by Daisy Tate
‘Thanks for coming out with me,’ Sue said after a bit of silent pedalling.
‘Absolutely. No problem.’ Raven swallowed back the guilty apology that should have followed. Sue had actually been quite diligent about going out, even if only for a bit, the entire ten days since they’d made their purchases. She invited Raven every single time and never once moaned or cajoled or rebuked her when she made her excuses. The truth was, she’d hit a bit of an emotional snag of her own and was afraid if they had alone time without the telly, everything she’d been spilling her guts to the work therapist about would come flying out in a torrent of woe that she really didn’t deserve to feel. Not when Sue was going through the actual death of an actual loved one who had mired her in substantial debt and then topped himself rather than face up to what he’d done. Not that she was judging, but … effing hell. She hoped there was some mahoosive apology letter buried somewhere amidst all of those receipts and things. Boxes and boxes, he’d left. She didn’t know how Sue got up in the morning. Not that Gary had left her much choice. Anyway … she’d not met the man. Not her place to judge.
‘How many miles do you think Kath does a day?’ Sue asked. ‘She looks pretty fit.’
Raven shook her head. She didn’t know. ‘I suspect her trainer sees to that.’
‘Maybe we should’ve hired Dylan,’ Sue said in a way that suggested she might think Raven and Dylan were a thing.
To put her well off that track because – No, Raven barked a not-ruddy-likely laugh then asked, ‘Have you rung the production office back?’
‘The Brand New Day people?’
‘Yeah.’
Sue shook her head. ‘I thought we’d better speak to Flo, because it sounded like they thought we were all still working at the call centre and I didn’t feel it was my place to – you know—’
‘… tell her about The Rachel Incident?’
Sue crinkled her nose. ‘Yeah. I wish they’d have her back. The place feels a bit …’
‘Boring?’ Raven offered.
‘Quieter,’ Sue countered in that politic way of hers.
‘Maybe they will. If Flo, you know, apologized. It’s not like people are exactly banging the doors down to work there.’
‘What do you think you’ll say,’ Sue asked, the tone of her voice making it clear she’d drifted off somewhere entirely different.
‘When?’
‘When they come to interview us?’
‘Oh, god. I don’t know. I was just presuming Flo would do all the talking and I would stand there like a berk, then it would all be over and that would be that.’
‘But …’ Sue made a weird chewing motion as if she was trying to taste the perfect way to explain what she’d actually meant. ‘I don’t really want to do it. I’m probably more shy than you are – not that it’s a contest,’ she quickly added. ‘It’s more that … I was just thinking.’
‘What?’
‘Well? It’s not just any old bike ride is it? It’s a bike ride for a charity that helps people who are going through a tough time and … I don’t know. It seems important to make sure people know that we know that and that we support that and the people who ring in and the people who volunteer and Kath who is making it all happen.’
Raven nodded. All good points. She felt a bit squeamy, now. To have been so blithe about it. She, after all, was going through her own things and probably could’ve done with someone neutral to bounce ideas off of before she did stuff like move out of the family home to prove a point she wasn’t entirely sure was worth proving.
‘Are you going to …’ Oh crap. She’d just started a sentence she didn’t really know how to finish.
‘… talk about Gary?’ Sue quietly finished for her.
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m not really sure it’s something they want on television.’
‘Kath talked about it. What her brother did.’
Sue’s lips disappeared into her mouth with an mmm.
‘I’m sure they’d help you. You know, how to phrase things.’
‘What about you?’ Sue deflected. ‘What would you want to talk about?’
‘How to be brave,’ Raven blurted.
‘You’d be good at that,’ Sue said, clearly missing the fact Raven had meant it as a wisecrack, a filler to cover for the fact that the last thing she wanted to do was appear on television, let alone Brand New Day. Hello? Total opportunity to be mocked.
But where?
She wasn’t on social media anymore. If people did say things about her, what did it matter? Sticks and stones and all that … So … why not? Maybe growing a pair was what she needed to talk about. Bravery wasn’t painting your face blue, waggling a sword in the air and shouting oaths of loyalty. Bravery came in all shapes and forms. She thought Sue was brave for getting out of bed every morning. She thought Flo was brave for not acting like an old person. Could bravery come in the form of a chubby, Indian, goth girl who froze when life threw ‘fix it now’ moments at her? Maybe.
They rode along the canal towpath and into a woodland, dappled with early spring sunlight, the idea growing in her along with the spring flowers poking out here and there … like little fragile promises of good things to come.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
ONE MONTH LATER
‘Well I know I’ll be racing down to get one!’
Kath turned away from her husband who was pretending to drive a car and then crash it. She put on her brightest smile for camera three. ‘A ten-pound voucher for an MOT? Amazing!’ She let her astonished smile soften. ‘Now, as part of our popular new series where we meet the riders who’ll be joining me and my trainer Fola in four short weeks for our Trip of a LifeTime, today we’re off to Bicester—’
‘Wanting some bargain designer wear, are you, love?’ Kev cut in. ‘I thought it was all lycra and padded bums for you and your crew these days.’
Kath oh-ho-ho-ho’d, as she checked the monitors and saw that Kev had indeed signaled for them to open the camera angle up to a two-shot. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Not letting her have one on one ‘chats’ with the viewers. People want crazy Kath. They want fun Kath. Not all of this bloody, earnest bullshit you keep on about. It’s getting right tedious it is.
Actually it had proved very popular. Particularly, and rather astonishingly, in the wake of Fola marching the ‘scrubby ASBO waiting to happen’ off of live television.
‘About time someone dealt with the little heathens properly,’ said one caller. ‘I’d have done far worse,’ said another. ‘Disrespecting Kath like that.’
Since then, viewing figures regularly peaked when the segments about the people joining Kath on the charity ride aired. It turned out people didn’t want jolly jolly all of the time. In between the cream pies in faces and ice bucket challenges, they also liked discovering they weren’t the only ones going through tough times and, against the odds, finding a way to survive them. Make a difference, even.
‘Actually, Kev, whilst you’re not wrong—’
‘Am I ever wrong?’
Oh, ho-ho-ho. A voice in Kath’s ear told her camera two was on a one shot. ‘What the team here at Brand New Day hadn’t bargained on was finding not one, but three women within a few miles of one another who are in training to join us.’
‘Three? Crikey. What’s in the water in Bicester, I wonder?’
‘Kindness?’ Kath suggested with an impish smile. ‘Generosity? That was my take, anyway, when I went down there with a crew yesterday afternoon. I will warn you. You’ll see a side of me you don’t often see.’
‘The back side?’
‘Oh, ho ho ho … you’re just full of ’em today, aren’t you, Kev? Why don’t we take a look at the first of our Three Amazing Women of Bicester mini-films.’ She gave a nod and the taped segment began to play.
Kev pulled off his mic and stormed off set, muttering something about the balance of the show being out of sync. Funny that. Kath could say hand on heart it didn’t feel comforta
ble … but it did feel right. So, unlike her husband, she sat back and watched as the segment played.
The first shot was of Florence Wilson riding her bicycle along a canal. It cut to her waving to Sue and Sunita, or Raven as she liked to be called.
Kath’s nose crinkled as her own voiceover rang through the studio. All these years and she still hadn’t got used to the sound of it. This time however … this time she sounded properly invested.
‘Florence Wilson isn’t your average seventy-two-year-old grandmother. She lives here, in a sleepy village just a few miles outside of Bicester. Flo, as she prefers to be called, has travelled the world not once, but hundreds of times in her role as a flight attendant with British Airways. While she may have retired from the friendly skies, she has far from retired from life. Together with friends Sue Young and Raven Chakrabarti, she will be joining us at the end of May for our Trip of a LifeTime.’
The segment cut to Florence waving goodbye to Sue and Raven as they carried on down the towpath. Then it showed Florence putting a poultice on an Irish Wolfhound’s leg, Florence waving goodbye to her husband, getting in her car and then, through the magic of television, arriving at work all in a quick ten-second edit.
Kath’s voiceover continued, ‘By day, Florence works for the NHS 111 call service taking calls from all over Oxfordshire and Bedfordshire counties.’
Kath smiled as a two shot of the pair of them appeared on the monitor. She’d really liked Flo. A proper can-do woman with extra bags of verve in tow.
‘So this is where it all happens, is it, Flo?’ She watched herself ask.
‘Absolutely.’ Florence made a grand gesture with her arm. ‘This is where hundreds of calls a day are taken, all helping the good people of Britain.’
On-screen Kath made a forgive me for putting it this way, but … Many women your age would be quite happy to put their feet up. What is it that keeps you so active?’
‘I like to live life to the full, really. Seize the day! As they say, you’re a long time dead, so why not make the most of the time we have here on—sorry, do you mind if we just … yes … there we go … just over here.’
Kath’s brow furrowed as she watched the next bit. At the time, she’d not thought a thing of Flo moving her to the far side of the forecourt outside the call centre, but now that she watched it again, they were practically in the hedge by the time the officious-looking brunette dipped in and out of shot. Her line manager, Kath thought. Maybe she’d not asked permission to film. Kath tuned back in as Flo explained what had inspired her to do the ride, ‘—and, of course, your enthusiasm to raise money for such an important charity was inspiring. In fact, they have a call centre for Lifetime, don’t they? Oh. You wouldn’t mind just taking one more step this way, would you? Out of security’s way is always best.’
Flo threw a naughty wink at the camera.
‘You’re not a trouble maker at work, are you, Flo?’ She definitely was a woman in possession of a wicked laugh. A wicked laugh she wasn’t using right now.
‘Not at all. I tried – try – to do my very best for the callers. Anyway, back to what you were saying about LifeTime. What sorts of hours can people ring in?’
Sue smiled. Flo was born to do television. ‘You’re an excellent prompt for a very important point I was hoping to make, Flo. Yes. LifeTime does have a dedicated hotline staffed entirely by volunteers. (Looks directly to camera.) I promise you viewers, this was completely unrehearsed, but it is important for all Britons to know that when they think there is no one out there who can understand what they’re going through … there is. LifeTime has dedicated, twenty-four-hour listening lines open to anyone who feels they might need a friendly ear.’
“What type of qualifications do the helpline folk need?”
‘Flo, if I didn’t know better it’d sound like you’re in the market for another job!’
Kath crossed her arms. Maybe that explained the funny business with the line manager.
Kath continued for a bit about how LifeTime was always looking for volunteers, that there was training, but the main thing they were looking for in the volunteers was an ability to listen, really listen, and not just trot out the same truisms everyone knew.
Flo gave an earnest nod, then jumped in. ‘So what you’re saying is that people want a personal touch. Not a scripted response to a genuine problem that is specific to the caller. Who wants someone plodding through a script by rote when you’re at your darkest moment? No one! That’s who! Just because two people take milk in their coffee doesn’t mean they want the same amount, does it? Or coughs! One might have whooping cough. One might have pneumonia. It pays to take an interest, doesn’t it? Going off script doesn’t mean you’re daft. It means you’re interested.’
‘Absolutely,’ onscreen Kath agreed. ‘What it also—’
‘In fact I would say it’s critical that the volunteers have a mind of their own. If someone out there were to call me, for example, I can pledge, hand on heart, I’d be willing to listen for as long as you needed. We’d pour a proverbial cuppa, sit down and hash it out. Ten minutes, an hour, all night long. Whatever it takes.’
Kath nodded along as her onscreen persona said, ‘I know I’d like you to be on the end of the phone in my hour of need.’ She would as well. Maybe she could carve out a little Kath and Flo time on the ride.
‘I’d do that for you, Kath.’ Flo had taken her hand at this point. ‘If you needed it. I’d be there for you. No judgement. No script. Just you and me talking about the things that really matter.’
Kath’s throat grew itchy as she watched her eyes glass over on the monitor. The editors had said they’d cut this bit out if she wanted, but if she wanted their viewers to know the real her then she couldn’t edit out the tough bits. The vulnerable bits. ‘Ooo! You caught me there.’ She waved her hand in front of her face as if it was a cure all for an unexpected attack of emotion. ‘Blimey! I just got hit by — ooof.’
‘You alright, love?’ Flo asked.
‘Yes, I just … [Shakes head] Goodness! Forgive me. I’m obviously feeling a bit emotional today.’ A sob escaped her throat.
‘Better out than in, darlin’.’ Flo pulled her into a half hug.
Kath tried to shake herself out of it. She’d be back on air soon. But she was riveted as she watched herself say, ‘I just wish my brother was here to see how amazing you all are. I wish he’d known there were people like you he could’ve called for support.’
The make-up girl, Bridie, scurried into place as a tear streaked down her cheek as her on-screen self properly succumbed to the tears. ‘I should’ve been there for him.’
Flo rubbed her back, ‘’s all right, duck. We all should done a lot of things.’
Flo gave her a tissue, Kath gave Flo a hug. It had all been about a million times more moving than she’d thought, but … she hadn’t really thought of her brother speaking to an actual person before. She stuffed down all of the feelings again, watched as the onscreen notice telling people the LifeTime number if they’d been affected by the content of the segment and then, mercifully, they cut for a commercial break.
‘Alright, Raven? Put it here, yeah? Before you’re too famous to remember me.’
Raven looked up from her drawing, surprised to see Dylan standing in front of her, his hand curled into a loose fist waiting for a bump. She gave it an awkward tap with her fist after flipping her phone face down on the table, weirdly embarrassed at having been caught looking at uni specs in Costa. ‘Sorry, umm … what are you talking about?’
‘I saw you on telly yesterday, didn’t I?’ He mouth trumpeted the opening tune to Brand New Day then put his hot drink on her table and gave her a double thumbs up. ‘You sounded really smart, like.’ He did a little reenactment playing both Kath and Raven which was weird because he gave her a voice like the Queen and Kath sounded like Sporty Spice.
After her face had stopped burning, her interview with Kath had actually been pretty cool. She had a way of listenin
g that made you feel as if she was actually listening. And she’d stuck to the plan, unlike Kev, who always seemed to be springing things on people as if he loved catching them out. Thank god he was going to Cape Town.
‘I loved that bit about social justice. You was like, all up in the cyber bullies grill. “Keep your mitts off of my social media and shit, yeah?”’
Raven frowned. She didn’t remember everything she’d said, but she was pretty certain she hadn’t said that. Rather than talk about exactly the truth – her complete shame and horror that she’d stood by while an innocent girl was driven to the point of complete despair – she’d talked near the truth. Cyber bullying was a big enough tabloid issue she’d been confident she could keep her actual emotional investment in it vague. But venturing into the realms of social justice? Not so much.
She examined Dylan’s eyes for red lines. Nope. Clear and … oh! Sparkly sea-blue, a bit like Bradley Cooper’s, not that she fancied Bradley Cooper because he was like, bleurgh, old, but … Dylan’s eyes were nice.
‘I liked the part where you said teenagers needed to take charge of their own lives because they were practically grown-ups anyhow and the future was their future so they might as well own it.’
‘Yeah, well …’ She was no Greta Thunberg. She gave a single shoulder shrug hoping she looked as if it had been pre-planned because all of it had actually been born out of sheer panic. Sue had been asked to go and had been terrified so Raven had said she’d go with her only to figure out she too was terrified until she thought about talking about cyber bullying and then it was like a whole different person had come out of her. Someone articulate and strong who could shrug off trolls and shamers. Someone who could stand up to her parents and refuse to go to uni straight out of college, move in with a newly widowed colleague and agree to go on a 174-mile bicycle ride for a mental health charity. So … she was discovering herself, really. And her superpowers. Like an ability to step up and do things even if there were people out there who thought you were a fat, brown, goth slag. Even fat, brown, goth slags could step up for people. For Aisha Laghari, for example.