by Jane Lythell
‘We have to secure additional advertising. We have no choice. You want to hang on to your team and your guest presenters, don’t you, Liz?’
I was startled at such a direct question. Were the finances of the station in such a parlous state?
‘Well yes, of course.’
‘We have to do this and it’s your job to make this work in programming terms,’ he said.
So that was it. If it backfired I would get the blame. Wonderful! And I had the impression that the role of breaking the news to Fizzy, and of placating her, had been intended for me and that my reaction had scuppered that. I left the meeting shortly afterwards having been reminded by Saul Relph in a stern voice that our discussion had been entirely confidential. Lori stayed behind with Julius and Saul, the cabal. Martine shot me a look but did not ask what the meeting had been about so I was spared having to lie to her. My head was spinning as I went back to my office. This was going to be a major challenge.
It was only later that I recalled that Julius had been uncomfortable when he and I discussed the downmarket PR events that Lori had lined up for Ledley to front. At the time I hadn’t understood his reaction. Now it was clear. Julius must have known they were planning to keep Ledley on as the co-host with Fizzy. I wondered if Ledley knew this too. I felt belittled that they had only thought to share it with me once their decision was made, and my sympathies were all with Fizzy.
Kenwood House Picnic Concert, Hampstead, 7.15 p.m.
I had arranged to meet Douglas outside the main entrance of Kenwood House. It’s an elegant building sitting in landscaped gardens. I spotted him standing under the Ionic portico and he was laden. He had a bag of picnic food, a bottle of champagne and was carrying two cushions under his arm. We greeted each other and he kissed me on the cheek awkwardly, with the bags getting in the way.
‘Let me help you carry some of that,’ I said.
He handed me the two cushions which were firm rather than decorative ones.
‘Clever of you to think of bringing cushions,’ I said.
‘Oh, the cushions are kind of essential. I’m plagued with a back problem I’ve had since I was seventeen. I’ll tell you the whole sorry story some day. It’s a completely self-inflicted injury. Now, we need to get to the Pasture Ground.’
I followed him. It was a lovely setting with a lake and ancient woodland stretching beyond the landscaped vista. Rows of seats had been set up in front of a temporary stage and Douglas manoeuvred us to our places. He arranged one of the cushions carefully at the base of his spine and handed me the other one.
‘Why don’t you use them both? I’m perfectly comfortable,’ I said.
He put the second cushion into place and it was clear that back pain was a part of his life. He looked up at the sky and the darkening clouds which were gathering.
‘The forecast said rain is on the way but we may be lucky.’
As asked, I had brought a large StoryWorld golfing umbrella along and I pushed this under my seat. I was finding him desperately attractive in his open-necked shirt and jeans as he leaned forward and drew out a bottle of champagne, nicely chilled, and two plastic flutes.
‘I think a drink would be pleasant,’ he said.
He opened the bottle expertly so that it gave a satisfying pop but no champagne frothed out, poured, and handed me a flute before serving himself.
‘I’ve got some smoked salmon sandwiches here if you fancy one?’
‘You’ve thought of everything. Yes, please.’
I had looked up the programme before I’d set off and there were some glorious and familiar pieces of music listed.
‘This is such a wonderful idea for a summer evening. Thank you for organising it,’ I said.
The orchestra opened the concert with Bach’s ‘Sheep May Safely Graze’. This was particularly apt as we were sitting in the Pasture Ground and I whispered this to Douglas.
‘Yes, kind of perfect, isn’t it?’ he whispered back.
This was followed by Tchaikovsky’s stirring ‘Sleeping Beauty’ waltz and then the mood became tranquil again with the ‘Canon in D’ by Pachelbel. It was lovely and I felt happy in a fluttery kind of way and as if tears were close to the surface, but then music can do that to me.
In the interval Douglas and I finished the bottle of champagne and the sandwiches. As the orchestra was walking back onto the stage we felt the first large drops of rain on our arms and within a minute the sky had opened and dumped a barrel of rain on our heads. My dress was stuck to my body and my fabulous hairdo was flattened as I struggled to get the umbrella out from under the seat. Douglas was soaked through and he was trying to stuff his cushions into a plastic bag. He started to laugh and that set me off and we were both hysterical, unable to stop laughing as the rain hit us in the face and pelted the grass. He grabbed me by the hand.
‘Let’s go and find shelter in a pub,’ he said.
We ran through the rain to the gates of Kenwood Gardens and stood under a tree to get our breath. Finally, we managed to stop laughing.
‘That orchestra... and us running out on them like that,’ I said.
‘Oh, there’ll be plenty of diehards who’ll sit till the end and not let the rain stop them,’ he said. ‘I know a pub near here. We need to dry out.’
The rain was less fierce now and we walked out on to the road sharing my umbrella. We turned left and arrived at the Spaniards Inn within five minutes. This was all uneven flagstones and low beam ceilings, the sort of place that would have a log fire burning in the winter. We found a table and I went to the Ladies while Douglas went to the bar. I looked in the mirror. Some mascara had run beneath my eyes so I wiped the smears away. There was nothing I could do about my hair so I combed it back and tucked it behind my ears. And I was wet down to my bra. I joined Douglas at our table. His hair was wet and tousled and looked rather attractive. He had bought a bottle of Chablis which was in an ice bucket. We sat close and drank the wine and I asked him if he would tell me the story about his self-inflicted back injury.
‘What a young idiot I was, seventeen and reckless. We were living in Norfolk and had gone to Sheringham for our summer holiday.’
‘I know Sheringham.’
‘Funny little place, isn’t it? Mum and Dad didn’t have a lot of money then and we were camping. It’s not got much of a beach.’
‘It’s all pebbles, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly. But it did have the great attraction of sandy cliffs which I could climb. My parents had warned me that they were soft and known to crumble. That didn’t stop me. I set myself more and more daring challenges. I used my penknife to make footholds in the cliffs and these footholds would crumble away as I climbed.’
‘How high are these cliffs?’
‘Some are up to eighty feet.’
‘Scary,’ I said.
‘Not to me. I found it thrilling and got kind of addicted to the adrenalin rush. But at the end of the week it started to rain and it didn’t stop for two days. Mum wanted to go home early but I was desperate to do a last climb. The rain stopped and I went down to the beach and did a climb and this time I was unlucky, or maybe the rain had softened the cliff, because my foothold gave way and I fell badly onto the pebbles and hurt my back.’
‘You could have been killed!’
‘I didn’t fall that far.’
‘Poor you and your poor mum. She must have been beside herself.’
He gave me a rueful smile.
‘A dog walker found me and called an ambulance. I was in hospital for a while and I still have to see my osteopath regularly.’
He poured me more wine and topped up his glass.
‘And it’s had a long-term impact on my life. It’s the reason I’m a newscaster behind a desk and not a reporter out in the field.’
He sounded regretful and I reached over and squeezed his hand.
‘Liz?’
I looked up and Amber was in front of our table. I hadn’t seen her for ages though I knew that she
was back with Julius. She looked over at Douglas and I could tell that she recognised him.
‘Amber, hello. Um, this is my friend Douglas.’
He got to his feet and shook hands with her. She looked immaculate, as she always did, in a Burberry raincoat. No smeared eyes or flattened hair for Amber.
‘We got caught in the rain,’ I said.
‘It was quite a storm. Well, good to see you. I have to dash. There’s a taxi outside.’
Douglas gave me a quizzical look after she had gone. He must have noticed that I looked uncomfortable.
‘That’s Amber. She works in fashion and she is currently dating my boss.’
‘Ahh, Julius Jones,’ he said.
‘You know him?’
‘I’ve met him a few times. A tough boss, I would think.’
‘Tough but talented,’ I said.
When we parted outside my flat two hours later Douglas got out of the taxi and kissed me. It was a very nice kiss and there was a part of me that wanted to invite him in. Flo was in Portsmouth and I would feel much freer with her away. But it was too soon. This was only our second date. He waited until I had unlocked my door and gone in and then I heard his taxi chugging away.
‘Well, that was extremely nice,’ I told Mr Crooks as I got out of my still-damp clothes and pulled on a long T-shirt. I lay in bed and went through the whole evening again, recalling how closely we had sat next to each other in the pub. And there was that delicious goodnight kiss.
15
StoryWorld TV station, London Bridge
I was in the gallery with the director as Ledley discussed Gerry’s topic of the week which was superstitions and star signs. Ledley has grown into an assured performer and I wondered again if he knew anything about the plan to keep him on as Fizzy’s co-presenter. I used to think that Ledley was a straightforward person to deal with. He had seemed to be someone who did not have the monster ego that comes with so many on-screen personalities. My doubts about him have been growing and that conversation we’d had about Bob being the father of Zachary had shown him in a different and nastier light. He was capable of stirring things up if he thought it would advance his interests.
‘So you see Pisces, my sign, is the most superstitious of all. We will devise all kinds of rituals to avoid ladders and Friday the thirteenth, whereas canny Capricorns think this is the height of foolishness,’ Gerry said.
I recalled that Gerry had wanted us to have dinner and I reminded myself to book in a date with him. He’s a good man and I was in need of an ally.
Later, we were all seated in the meeting room to discuss the show and I looked around the table. At least three of us – Julius, Lori and I – were in on the bombshell that Fizzy would not be returning as the solo presenter in September. Bob was there but he didn’t know, nor did the director sitting next to him. I saw Ledley exchange a glance with Lori and I thought, He knows, he must know. I was finding it hard to focus on the discussion, thinking instead about the ramifications if the change went ahead. It would mean that with every guest we booked I would have to make a decision about who would do the interview. It was going to be a minefield. Fizzy would insist on the big interviews. But, more to the point, how would she and Ledley work on camera? No matter what private feelings they had about each other on camera they had to present a united front. I saw nothing but conflict ahead. At the end of the meeting I asked Julius if I could have a quick word and I followed him to his office.
‘I wanted you to know that I’ve agreed that Flo can be one of the three subjects of Guy’s teenage fashion makeover shoot.’
‘OK.’
‘It’s not a studio item, it will be a short digital package and she won’t get any pay for it,’ I said.
‘It’s fine by me.’
‘Thank you. I didn’t want you to think there was a conflict of interest.’
‘Of course not. You worry about the wrong things, Liz.’
There was a pause as he placed his papers on his desk before he turned back to me.
‘I heard you were dating Douglas Pitlochry?’
Blood rushed to my cheeks. How on earth had he heard that? Of course, it would be Amber. She had seen us at that Hampstead pub, but that was only last night! To my consternation my face was on fire and my blush was deepening.
‘We’ve been on a couple of dates.’
‘Be careful there. I’ve heard that since he split with his wife he’s been playing the field.’
Julius was telling me to be careful in my love life. I was astonished. I needed to change the subject fast.
‘Are there any further developments on the Fizzy situation?’
He looked grim.
‘I’m driving up to Burnley tomorrow. She has to be told face to face.’
‘You’re really going through with it?’
‘We have little option. The numbers stack up and we need the advertising Ledley can bring in.’
‘Are you sure that Lori’s figures are robust? You can do a lot by manipulating figures.’
‘I know: lies, damned lies and statistics,’ he said.
‘Exactly.’
‘She may not be the easiest person to work with but I will say this about her, she knows her stuff. I got her analysis verified by a number-cruncher and her forecast stands up.’
‘But the first rule of broadcasting is look after your talent. Fizzy is our greatest asset. Saul and Lori are money people. They only see the bottom line.’ I said this with more force than I intended. Did I still hope that I could persuade Julius to go against the decision? I could see Martine sitting at her desk outside and consulting her watch. It was clear she wanted Julius for his next meeting.
‘And Martine has no idea?’ I asked.
Usually Martine knows what is happening in the station before any of us. She adores Fizzy and we both knew she would take this development badly.
‘No. And we’re going to keep it that way,’ he said.
‘How on earth will you tell Fizzy? She’s going to be devastated.’
‘I’m working on that and I could do with your help. It is part of your job, you know, to carry out our policy on presenters.’
‘I’ve done some tough conversations in my time, but I wouldn’t know how to break this to her.’
Martine had grown fed up with waiting and she tapped on the door and pointed to her watch. Julius held up his hand to indicate he needed five more minutes with me.
‘I was going to ask you to come to Burnley with me but I know weekends are difficult for you with Flo,’ he said.
‘Thank you. She’s been away and I need to spend time with her this weekend.’
He seemed genuinely perturbed and I noticed that his left eyelid was twitching, a sure sign of stress. I looked down and tried to think how I would break this to Fizzy.
‘I guess the best thing is to be straight with her and say it’s got nothing to do with her appeal which remains sky high. Think of all those toys that got sent in for her. Say it is purely a commercial decision because Ledley can draw in another section of viewers.’
‘Yes. I’ll say that because it’s the truth; economic necessity. Saul is cut up about it too you know, even though he is a money man,’ he said.
‘And Julius, please tell Fizzy that this decision had nothing to do with me. She’s going to take this hard and she’ll need support. I want to be there for her.’
I went back to my office thinking that I had rarely seen Julius looking so ill at ease. This had to be a decision that had been imposed on him by Saul against his instincts. Yet Saul had always been Fizzy’s biggest fan. I remembered the huge bunch of flowers he sent her when she was in hospital last year, and the way he had talked to me about her when she revealed her pregnancy on camera. He had stood by her then and said that she was very important to StoryWorld’s continued success. It must be that the company finances were in a parlous state and they were desperate to bring in more advertising. This enhanced Lori’s position still further as she was seen
as the key to increasing revenue. And a by-product of this would be that Ledley would now see Lori as his patron. I didn’t like any of these developments or what it would mean for me and my features team.
I told Harriet that it was fine for Flo to take part in the teenage fashion shoot. Then I rang Flo in Portsmouth and confirmed that she was going to be one of the three models. She whooped with joy at the prospect.
‘I can get my hair changed back before the shoot, can’t I, Mum?’
‘Yes. I’ve talked to Mark about it and I want him to do it. We can trust him. I’ll see you in a few hours. Can’t wait, I’ve missed you, darling.’
*
It’s the late summer bank holiday on Monday and we won’t be broadcasting again till Tuesday. Fizzy is due to return on Thursday. I had suggested she come back the following Monday but she is determined to be back on the sofa on the first of September. Would this still be the case? Julius is breaking the news to her tomorrow and I have a slightly sick feeling that everything will be thrown into turmoil. As Flo is back tonight I decided I would leave early. I’d get some treat food in and we can do our Friday night veg out. I was looking forward to it. I locked my office door, just after five, and heard Harriet ask the team if any of them fancied going to the opening of a new sushi bar that was introducing the ‘sushi doughnut’. She had a spare invite and it was at a cool venue in Bermondsey.
‘Sushi doughnut? That sounds a truly vile combination,’ Simon said.
‘It doesn’t have any dough or sugar in it. It’s sticky rice shaped like a doughnut with the usual sushi toppings.’
‘What’s the point then?’ Molly asked.
‘Well, doughnut hybrids are the thing, aren’t they?’ Harriet said.
‘But it’s not a doughnut,’ Molly persisted.
This turned out to be another of Lori’s invitations from her marketing contacts. Considering she doesn’t like her I’ve noticed that Harriet is quick to accept Lori’s freebies.