by Paul Ilett
Valerie buttoned her jacket, ready to leave. She then stepped towards her door, turned, drew on her cigarette and blew smoke back in Oonagh’s direction. “You may think you’ve earned your page on Wikipedia with your little website, Oonagh. But you mess with this newspaper and the one and only thing you will be remembered as is the woman who destroyed the Daily Ear. You might want to consider that.”
Oonagh allowed Valerie the final word, if only to ensure the conversation was over. Valerie was satisfied she had said her piece and marched through the Daily Ear newsroom triumphant. As the lift doors slid closed in front of her, and the Daily Ear vanished from her life, she found herself smiling. She knew she would never return. She was about to burn all her bridges, but she didn’t care.
The world was about to learn the truth about Leonard Twigg’s death and Valerie Pierce had the exclusive.
CHAPTER 23
“Murderer!” screamed the front page of the Daily Ear, a dramatic headline straddling a strangely sinister picture of Adam Jaymes’ face that Felicity guessed must have been photoshopped. It was 5am, and she was once again standing on the pavement outside the little newsagents just up the road from the Daily Ear office. She watched quietly as the owner placed that day’s papers out on display.
“Bitter Jaymes’ revenge blamed for tragic tube suicide: Full story on pages 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10”. It was a dramatic and daring attempt by the Daily Ear to finally place a stranglehold on Project Ear, in the hope the coverage would be a death blow to whatever was left of Adam Jaymes’ career. The day before, Felicity had seen the star’s name and reputation go into a free fall as his staunchest fans in the media struggled to support him. Even the most outspoken broadcasters hadn’t felt they could suggest (on air at least) that Twigg had simply reaped what he had sown.
On social media things had been somewhat different. There had been a huge, angry wave of support for the actor underpinned by a core of people who thought, very simply, that the world was well rid of Leonard Twigg. Adam Jaymes’ fans had taken to Twitter and Facebook in their thousands and demanded that their voices were heard. But their comments went unreported because that wasn’t the story, at least for that day. For 24 hours, Adam Jaymes had been solely responsible for the tragic death of a newspaper editor and Colin Merroney had confidently put Wednesday’s paper to bed expecting the rest of the printed press to follow suit.
But no one, and particularly not the staff at the Daily Ear, could have foreseen Adam Jaymes gaining the most unexpected ally. Valerie Pierce was supposed to have written a blazing criticism of the actor, but she had taken herself to the Press Association and dropped a bomb on the Daily Ear instead. She had handed over confidential emails and provided a devastating first-hand account of what had really happened behind the scenes in the days before Twigg’s suicide. “Bereaved, Blamed and Belittled; The truth behind Leonard Twigg’s death” was the Mail’s take on the story while the Daily Mirror revealed “Twigg ‘suicide note’ sent hours before wig exposé”. “Billionaire Harvey ‘killed’ Leonard Twigg” said the Sun, whilst the Guardian teased with “Valerie Pierce reveals how the powerful Harvey family turned on their most loyal servant in the days before his suicide”. All the papers had taken the story from PA, and the television and radio news reports had followed suit. The Daily Ear front page now looked as ridiculous as it did anomalous, reporting a version of a story that the rest of the world’s media had already decided was entirely discredited.
For Felicity, it had been a fascinating turn of events. Unable to sleep, she had quietly left her flat and made her way to the newsagents to see how the story was playing out. She had checked her Twitter account on the way and realised Valerie had done something big, but hadn’t realised the full repercussions until she was standing with all the front pages in front of her. In a single day the story had totally flipped. Adam Jaymes was completely exonerated and the blame now sat entirely with the Harveys.
“Have you come for the papers?” the shop owner asked. “Only no one’s been to collect them for a couple of days so I didn’t think you were still taking them. Won’t take me a moment to put them together, though.”
Felicity shook her head. “No, sorry, I just came to look,” she replied. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d take a walk and come and see what the papers were saying this morning.”
The shop owner stepped back and looked at all the papers he had just placed out on display. “I can’t see the Daily Ear lasting another week, not like this,” he said and then suddenly looked at Felicity, worried he had offended her. “Sorry,” he said, “I don’t mean to worry you. I’m sure your job is fine.”
She smiled at him. “Oh, I don’t work there. I’m just a student getting some work experience.”
The man was relieved, and then looked back at the papers again. “It’s quite something though, isn’t it?” he said. “They’re like a pack of wolves, aren’t they, these newspapers? It’s like they’ve spotted a weak one and have all turned on it.”
“Did you mean what you said?” Felicity asked. “About the Ear not staying open? Do you think that could really happen?”
The man shrugged. “If you’d asked me that a few years ago, I would have said no. No chance,” he replied. “But a few years ago, no one could ever have guessed that the News of the World would close. Or that newspaper reporters would be going to prison for phone hacking.” He collected together the plastic ties and paper wraps from the piles of newspapers he had just put out and then sighed, suddenly sounding like an old man. “Nothing lasts forever, anymore,” he said. “If there is one thing I do understand about this modern age, it’s that. Nothing lasts forever.”
“I thought we had him,” Sam said solemnly, as he studied the front pages that were sprawled across his desk. “I just don’t understand how this could have happened. I don’t understand how she could have done this. Of all the people to help Adam Jaymes. It just doesn’t make sense.”
As the morning had progressed, it had become painfully clear to the Daily Ear’s senior team how fleeting their victory had been as they plunged back into another reputational crisis. Leonard Twigg’s death had offered them little more than a short respite which Valerie Pierce had snatched away. Colin stood looking out of Sam’s window, his hands jammed into his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward, defeated. Although Sam, as usual, was failing to address the issue directly, Colin knew what he was after. Sam wanted Colin to offer some words, some explanation, for Valerie’s betrayal. And there was a tone in Sam’s voice that implied blame, as though Colin should have guessed what Valerie was going to do and prevented it.
Oonagh sat in front of Sam, staring intently at her iPad as she silently scanned Twitter and news websites in other parts of the world. “Sam, it’s too late for ‘what ifs’,” she said bluntly, and rested the tablet onto her lap. She rubbed her tired eyes and arched her aching back, wondering if it was time for yet another coffee. “It’s done. Your new PR director is getting our lines sorted and she clearly knows what she’s doing. But this isn’t going to be an easy few days. Valerie’s looking for a new job and I imagine she’ll be doing the rounds to promote herself. Radio, television, Loose Women, This Morning. You name it, I’ve no doubt she’ll be on it. In a very real way, she’s just become a bigger liability than Adam Jaymes himself.”
Colin turned his head, ever so slightly, at Oonagh’s words. A small part of him was still protective over Valerie and he felt an urge to jump to her defence. But he knew that Oonagh was making a fair and valid point. With her column at the Daily Ear now history, Valerie would be scouting around for a new role. She didn’t need to work, of course. Colin knew she had earned a small fortune at the Ear and been very well provided for by her late husband too. But he also knew how much Valerie enjoyed having a public profile and a sense that her opinion mattered. She liked feeling that she could influence anything from government policy to the career of a reality TV star. That sense of power would be difficult to give up. And
as much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Colin had been a little heartbroken by her actions. That day’s paper had been his first as acting editor and he had signed it off with pride and excitement. It had felt, to Colin at least, like a truly momentous occasion; the former work experience boy finally being handed the top job. But what should have proven an historic day had left him feeling humiliated and inept. Across the industry, and possibly within his own newsroom, Colin feared he was now a laughing stock. And Valerie had done that to him.
“Colin, what are you going to do about her?” Oonagh asked, determined that her acting editor should express some opinion on their former colleague. “You know her better than anyone, what have we got on her?”
Colin turned and found Sam and Oonagh both staring at him. They were waiting for him to share some gem of information with them, something they could use to rubbish Valerie’s version of events. And he knew they could only do that by ruining Valerie herself. He realised that was what Sam and Oonagh had already decided they were going to do, destroy Valerie Pierce’s reputation so no one would consider her version of events reliable. But as upset as Colin was, the situation still wasn’t so cut and dry. For the first time in a very long time he was facing a genuine moral dilemma: his friend or his career. He owed Valerie a lot, and not just because of how she had looked after him when Fiona left. She had been looking after him for his entire adult life, since he had first arrived at the Daily Ear as a sweaty and nervous 16-year-old on work experience. Valerie had been the only member of staff to treat him with respect from day one. She had kept an eye on him, made sure he got credit for his work and put his name forward when promotion opportunities came up. And over the years, she had also been pretty much the only woman in the whole building who had never tried to sleep with him. And when all was said and done, Colin knew there was a lot of truth to Valerie’s story. He understood how angry she must have been when she became aware of all the events leading to Leonard Twigg’s suicide. She may well have acted out of malice, but at least she’d had a legitimate reason to be so angry. “We’re going to look reckless if we attack Valerie,” he said, trying to sound confident and informed. “We need to take this one on the chin. She has confidential emails that can prove - ”
“Not an option,” Oonagh interrupted, sternly. “All Valerie has is an email proving we had a management restructure, and another showing that Leonard wrote handover notes. That is all. Everything else is just her opinion, pure conjecture.”
“But - ”
“It was her decision to leave. And it was her decision to make the Daily Ear an enemy,” Oonagh continued.
“I think ‘enemy’ is a bit - ”
“Enemy is exactly the right word, Colin,” Oonagh stated. “Valerie’s a big girl and she knew what she was doing, what she was getting herself into. She knew what we would have to do in response to her story.” In the absence of any ideas from Colin, Oonagh shrugged and said, “I suppose we could always use the drink-drive story. What do you think?”
Colin could see the irony in that suggestion, even if Oonagh and Sam couldn’t. It hadn’t been so long ago they thought it was something Adam Jaymes would throw at them. Now it was something the Daily Ear might use itself. “That’s no good,” he said. “Valerie’s got a cancer sob-story attached to it, and she also knows the Ear covered it up. It would do more harm than good.”
“In which case you need to tell us what you’re going to do,” Oonagh snapped, impatiently.
“Colin, we both understand that this is a difficult situation for you,” Sam said, finally chipping in and offering a gentler, more persuasive tone. “You’ve know Valerie for a long time and this is tough. But you must realise that this isn’t just business anymore. Valerie’s made this personal. This is my family she’s attacked. She’s blamed us for Twigg’s suicide and we need to respond to that as strongly as we can. And if that means we have to take Valerie down, that’s what we shall do.”
Colin fell silent, feeling a gnawing resentment at what Sam had just said. The Harvey family hadn’t considered it ‘personal’ when Adam Jaymes had revealed Colin’s affair live on Newsnight, or exposed Valerie’s secret first marriage. Or even when Twigg had thrown himself under a train. That, it would appear, was just business. But criticise the Harvey family and suddenly everyone has to take it personally, even the staff.
“We could issue a statement confirming Valerie was about to be released from her contract,” Oonagh suggested, clearly tired of waiting for any constructive ideas from Colin. “She and I had a conversation shortly before she walked out, and I think I made it clear that was a possibility.”
“Interesting idea,” Sam said, thoughtfully. “So, rather than looking like an honourable whistle-blower, she’d look like little more than a bitter former employee with an axe to grind.”
As Colin stood and listened, he realised he had no idea what to do. Over the years, whenever he had faced a difficult decision, he had always been able to seek out Twigg’s advice. Colin could explain the most complex situation, any ethical minefield, and within moments Twigg would have analysed the information, weighed the pros and cons and delivered a clear and precise action. And even though he was gone, Colin felt he knew what Twigg would have told him to do. With a heavy heart, he suspected Twigg would have agreed with Oonagh and Sam and told him to go after Valerie.
“Well?” Oonagh asked again. “Colin? We’re not getting much from you this morning. What are you going to do about Valerie Pierce?”
Just as Colin was about to reply, his mobile phone started purring in his jacket pocket. At first he was going to ignore it, but then he realised which mobile phone it was. It was a new phone he had bought and given the number only to Fiona’s dad to call him with any news. “I’m sorry,” he said, and reached to his inside pocket and pulled it out. “It’s about Fiona. I have to take this.”
Sam rolled his eyes as he sat back in his chair and looked at Oonagh, who gently shook her head, as though indicating that Colin was a lost cause. They listened to one half of the conversation, which was mostly a series of short responses to whatever information Fiona’s dad was relaying. “OK ... right ... ahah ... right ... I see.” When the call ended, Colin gently slipped the phone back into his pocket and said nothing. Oonagh noticed that he appeared to be shaking and his eyes were glistening as though he were on the verge of tears. “Colin, what’s happened?” she asked.
Colin spoke slowly, his face drained of all colour and his voice reduced to little more than a whisper. “Fiona’s been in a car accident,” he said. “She’s in hospital. It’s serious.”
“Oh dear Lord,” Oonagh said, and immediately stood and clutched his hand to show her support. “The baby?” she enquired. “How is the baby?”
“She’s having an emergency caesarean but it’s too early to tell,” he replied. “I’m sorry, but I have to be there. She’s still my wife. That’s my child. I need to get to the airport.”
Sam stood and patted Colin on the back. “Of course,” he said. “We’ll sort everything out here. You just go. Just go. We’ll all be praying for you.”
Distracted and alarmed and without a second thought for the Daily Ear, Colin hurried from the office and headed into the lift. In spite of the terrible circumstances, Fiona’s dad had been typically level-headed on the phone and delivered the awful news clearly and calmly so there was no misunderstanding about what had happened or the seriousness of the situation. Fiona’s brother Alastair had taken her out for breakfast when they had been approached by a reporter and photographer from a rival paper who demanded an interview and some pictures. Fiona had declined but the photographer had started taking pictures while the reporter threw insulting questions at her which had made her cry. Alastair then lost his temper and pushed the reporter to the ground, before helping Fiona into his car and driving away. But the journalists followed and the resulting car chase through country lanes had ended dramatically when Alastair lost control on a sharp bend and the car l
eft the road and overturned in a ditch. Fiona’s father had taken time to warn Colin that photographs of Fiona and Alastair being rescued from the wreck of the car by emergency services were already online. The rival paper, it seemed, hadn’t disclosed that its own staff had been involved in the crash but was gladly reporting that Alastair had been charged with both assault and dangerous driving.
As the lift doors closed, an unexpected tear trickled down Colin’s cheek. The thought of Fiona, his Fiona, battered and broken and undergoing an emergency caesarean section was almost too much for him to bear, and he blamed himself for every aspect of her predicament. He blamed himself for the pregnancy, for rushing her into a marriage, for breaking her heart with his affair and for leaving her as little more than fodder for a rival tabloid. For the first time in his life, Colin had been responsible for someone else’s life and happiness and he knew he had completely failed. His young wife and unborn child were both in terrible danger and as he headed to the airport, he knew that if either one of them died he would never be able to forgive himself.