by Jane Lythell
I smiled for the first time that day.
‘That sounds well over the top. Personally, I find the American celebrity smile off-putting. Give me crooked English teeth any day,’ I said.
‘And Molly and Harriet had a tiff this morning.’
‘What was it about this time?’
Simon rolled his eyes. ‘That hoary old chestnut editorial integrity; Harriet was sent a discount voucher by a company who want Guy Browne to mention them and Molly said she should return it as it compromised the slot.’
‘Was it worth a lot?’
‘A twenty per cent discount which all the press get. It goes deeper than that with those two. They’re chalk and cheese. They’ll argue over anything,’ Simon said.
Harriet and Molly would never be close friends but I needed them to rub along. In such a small team any kind of rift can fester and make the atmosphere at work unpleasant. It was another issue that would need addressing but it would have to wait. At the moment all my energies were focused on how we were going to get Fizzy on to the sofa with the appearance, if not the reality, of a good partnership between her and her new co-host. I would need a session with Ledley tomorrow, once the statement had gone out, and then I’d have to call Gerry, Betty and Guy to make sure they were in the know before the news hit the media. Simon was still hovering and I wondered if he sensed that something was up. He is good at reading my moods and seems to know when something is worrying me.
‘We need to work as a team, now more than ever. Let me know if you think I need to get them in here and have a clearing-the-air conversation, though I’d rather we parked it till next week,’ I said.
After Simon had left I tidied my desk and shut down my PC. Damn Lori Kerwell. Her intervention was causing so much conflict. Julius was irritable, Martine was shaken, I could see a lot more work ahead for me, and as for Fizzy... well, she was an unknown factor.
I looked at my team sitting outside. Molly wasn’t there and Simon, Harriet and Ziggy were in a huddle discussing something intently and Ziggy looked tense and unhappy. I watched the three of them as Harriet leaned in to her and said something and Simon reached over and patted her hand several times. He’s a kind man and is cute-looking in a Harry Potterish way. Ziggy continued to look stricken and I wondered what was up.
Chalk Farm flat, 7.30 p.m.
As soon as she heard my key in the lock a beaming Flo with brown hair opened the door to me.
‘What do you think, Mum?’
She spread her arms wide, did a twirl and swished her hair back and forth. Her hair looked lovely.
‘Oh yes, it looks great.’
‘Mark is brilliant. I’ll never go to a cheap salon again,’ she said with another swish of her head.
‘I’m glad to hear that.’
I checked my mail. Ron Osborne has had a week to respond and yet again he has ignored me. Sod him! Anger galvanised me and I sat at the kitchen table and made my claim. There was a form on the Small Claims website where you had to explain the dispute. I typed that he’d had my thousand pounds deposit since February and no work had been undertaken. You can ask for interest to be applied but I wrote that I didn’t want any interest, just my deposit back so I could pay someone else to do the job.
Douglas called me around nine and asked if I was free to go out on Thursday. He suggested a drink at his flat and supper around the corner at a small French bistro he liked. This will be our third date and they have always been on a Thursday evening, which is his day off from presenting the bulletin. He doesn’t seem to be free at the weekends and I wondered why that was. Perhaps the weekend was when he spent time with his son. I felt a tremor when he suggested we meet at his flat in Camden Town. What did that mean? And should I get Flo to do a sleepover that night?
I called Fenton and updated her.
‘Is it acceptable to sleep with a new man on the third date?’
‘I slept with Bill on our fourth date and it was something of a fumble and a let-down,’ she laughed.
‘Don’t! I’m nervous even thinking about it. It’s been a while and I don’t know if I feel confident enough to undress in front of Mr Sexy News.’
‘It got better with Bill, much better. Try to be light-hearted about it. First shags are nearly always a let-down,’ Fenton said.
‘I’ve been asking myself why I’m so nervous. I think it’s because deep down I want this to become a relationship too much. You can only be light-hearted when you don’t care. I approached sex with Todd light-heartedly, didn’t I? But I never expected Todd and me to be a big relationship. I wish I didn’t want this. When I want something too much I nearly always mess it up.’
There, I had told Fenton what I really felt. Underneath my nervousness was a dread of rejection. I felt that Douglas Pitlochry was too well known, too much the media figure to be really interested in me. Ben and I split up eight years ago and although I’ve had dalliances since then I haven’t had a partner. Part of me feels safe in my single status because it means I am in control of things. Another part of me has such a strong yearning to reach out and connect.
As I lay in bed I thought about how Flo will have to negotiate all this dating stuff soon enough and what a cyclone of emotions it can stir up. She talks about boys a lot with her friends. I’ve heard her mention an Ethan a couple of times. There’s this all-boys school in Highgate and after school Flo and her gang often go up to Highgate and sit on the green there in the hope of talking to the boys. I had done the same thing at her age but we had hung out in a skate park. It doesn’t get easier. Dating is as much a minefield in your forties as it is in your teens.
17
StoryWorld TV station, London Bridge
Straight after the morning meeting, Julius summoned me to his office. He was standing at his window looking out at the river and I went over to his side. Great white clouds were rolling across the sky and we watched the traffic moving through the water, the barges and the river buses, a calming view, but he was tense.
‘We’re putting the press release out at noon. We’ve agreed there’ll be no comment from Fizzy or Ledley.’
‘I’m surprised Fizzy doesn’t want to say anything,’ I said.
‘I spoke to her last night. She’s still furious and said under no circumstances would she talk to the press. She said they always twist what you say and they’ll try to paint her as a victim. She insisted Ledley stay shtum too. She almost spat out Ledley’s name.’
‘That bodes well for tomorrow,’ I said.
‘She’d better not flounce on set,’ he said.
‘She’s too professional to do that but off-air it’s going to be tough to manage.’
He didn’t reply. I looked at his profile as he continued to watch the boats moving up and down the river. He is handsome in a bland way with his straight nose and full lips, a clean-cut face which can change from pleasant to menacing in an instant. I was sure that, like me, he had serious reservations about tampering with the presentation which had worked so well for years. He might have moulded Fizzy into a star but he was finding it hard to control her now. And he had never liked Ledley.
‘Won’t it look odd if we make no comment; as if we’re hiding something?’
‘If they want a comment you’ll have to give one,’ he said.
‘How do you want me to play it?’
‘Treat the whole thing with the minimum of fuss, as if it’s a total non-event.’
‘I’ll say we’re delighted to have Fizzy back, the star of our show, and Ledley is there to support her.’
The rest of the morning was a round of meetings and phone calls with my presenters to brief them on the change. Betty had been in to do her advice slot – she was relaxed about the new approach, saying that Ledley was a peach to work with and she was glad he was getting the recognition he deserved. It was Gerry who reacted most strongly when I called him up.
‘That’s tough on Fizzy.’
‘It is.’
‘But I take it that we all have
to be happy-clappy and pretend that it’s no big deal,’ he said.
‘You got it in one, and we need to help her through it so she doesn’t feel she’s lost face.’
‘Poor love. So Ledley is well and truly on the up?’
‘He is, but I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes tomorrow,’ I said.
‘Nor I; Fizzy is a Leo and they hate to share the spotlight. But I’m not surprised. He’s got close to Lori Kerwell, hasn’t he? I keep seeing them together. Is she behind this change?’
I hesitated before replying. My habit of being the discreet producer had kicked in but how could it harm to tell Gerry that Lori was the instigator?
‘She says Ledley can help us get more advertising for male products,’ I said.
‘That woman is a force of nature and I wouldn’t want to stand in her way!’ Gerry said.
*
Once the media had got hold of the story they were on to me all afternoon and there were a lot of complaints that they couldn’t get access to Fizzy for a comment. I repeated, many times, the mantra that Ledley was joining her in a supporting role. One woman journalist, Lou Gibson, who wrote for a popular online news site, was especially persistent. I had encountered Lou before. She is highly opinionated and likes to create controversy. Her copy is hyperbolic and always comes with shouty headlines.
‘We’d like to hear from Fizzy directly. I mean, it looks to us like she’s being punished for having a baby,’ Lou said.
This was the angle I had been most worried about.
‘Nothing could be further from the truth. Fizzy is the star of our show and we’re so happy she’ll be back on our sofa tomorrow.’
I hoped I had deflected Lou but after I’d put the phone down on her I thought I’d better warn Ledley. Lou had pitched up at the station on more than one occasion and doorstepped our presenters. I did not want Ledley being ambushed and talking out of turn. He was still at the stage in his career where he liked to please journalists and wanted to be their friend. I went down to his dressing room. He had been allocated the second largest dressing room which we used to reserve for our A-list guests. The maintenance department had already put up his name on the door. I tapped and turned the handle. Lori was sitting on Ledley’s sofa and he was standing by his full-length mirror. He turned as I came in.
‘Liz, great to see you. Lori and I are having tea. Would you like a cup? It’s rooibos and very refreshing.’
He flashed me a smile and I saw what Simon meant about his teeth.
‘No, thanks. I wanted a quick word about dealing with the press, but I can pop by later,’ I said, starting to back out of the room as fast as I could.
Seeing Lori sitting there had thrown me. The two of them looked comfortable together. Of course, Lori was Ledley’s patron now and she would be a welcome visitor to his room.
‘Oh no, do stay and share. I’ve had several calls but I let them all go to answer machine as instructed,’ he said.
I was reluctant to talk in front of Lori but had no choice. I perched on a chair. Ledley sat down next to her. She had taken her jacket off and moved it for him while barely acknowledging me.
‘We want to keep it low-key until the new format settles down. But there’s this journalist, Lou Gibson, and she’s taking a line we don’t want to go anywhere near,’ I said.
‘What line?’
‘Kind of feminist outraged and implying that the station is punishing Fizzy for going off and having a baby—’
‘That’s nonsense,’ Lori said.
‘We know it’s nonsense but she is extremely persistent. If she gets in touch with you, Ledley, please be careful not to be drawn in,’ I said.
‘I won’t say a word. Thanks for the alert. You know I want this to work, very much.’
‘I know you do. We all do,’ I said, and left them to their tea. I didn’t feel any of us had expressed our true feelings for a minute. I could not tell if Ledley was embarrassed or combative or triumphant about his new role. I had an all too familiar sensation that my job meant feeling my way through a maze of different desires and agendas. As I walked through the atrium I saw Henry and he came over to me, looking down at me with his kind, serious face.
‘You OK with all this, Liz?’
The technical team had been briefed earlier by Julius. I gave a weary shrug.
‘I’ve spent the day fending off the media, trying to convince them it’s a non-story.’
‘Fancy a fag break?’
‘Oh, go on then.’
I followed him to our usual spot outside at the rear of the studio. He lit one cigarette and handed it to me and then lit a second for himself. It reminded me of a famous scene in a Bette Davis film when the man who is falling in love with her lights two cigarettes for them.
‘What’s the name of that film, you know, the one with Bette Davis where the man lights her cig? I can see the scene but I can’t remember.’
‘Now, Voyager,’ he said.
‘That’s it. Oh you’re good.’
‘It was my mum’s favourite film.’
We smoked in silence and I looked at the sky. The clouds over the river had darkened to a smoky purple.
‘Is Fizzy OK with it?’ he said at last.
‘No. She’s furious.’
‘Seems a mistake to me. If it ain’t broke why fix it?’
‘I’m with you there but it has been decreed from on high.’
I was surprised at how bitter I sounded. Was I taking this so badly because the idea had come from Lori?
‘Who gets to do the big interviews?’
‘Fizzy gets them,’ I said.
I dragged on my cigarette and it calmed my head. Henry looked at me sympathetically.
‘It’s going to be more work for you, isn’t it?’
I nodded. Henry threw his cigarette down and ground it under his heel, then picked up the tip and put it in the bucket of sand by the studio door.
‘We’ll make it work. And come to me if there’s anything I can do to help,’ he said.
Henry is a cool head in a crisis and I found his offer of help comforting. I went upstairs and Simon followed me into my office.
‘Ziggy’s got a big problem,’ he said.
I hadn’t expected that.
‘What is it?’
‘Her shit landlord says she has to leave her flat and he’s given her a month to get out.’
‘A month? Can he do that?’
‘It seems he can. It’s a basic bedsitter in Camberwell but it’s been her home since she left care and she doesn’t know where she can go.’
‘Poor kid. She’s got no family to turn to,’ I said.
‘We’re her family now. Harry and I are looking for a place for her but rents are ridiculous and they all want a big deposit. Harry said she’d do the deposit and Ziggy can pay her back slowly. I thought you should know because Zigg is finding it hard to concentrate on anything at the moment.’
I felt a huge rush of affection for Simon and Harriet for stepping in like this, and a feeling of pride that my team were pulling together. Ziggy had been looking pinched and anxious recently and I hadn’t thought to ask her what was wrong.
‘I think it’s brilliant what you and Harriet are doing. You must let me make a contribution.’
Simon took off his round glasses and polished them, which he does when he’s feeling shy or embarrassed.
‘It’s going to be hard enough to get Ziggy to accept Harry’s help. She’s proud and feels she should be able to sort this out for herself. And she won’t cry, you know, even though she’s terribly stressed. She feels she should tough it out,’ he said.
‘She’s a brave girl. She’s had more to cry about than any of us. Keep me posted and I’m glad you told me.’
This conversation reminded me that I need to secure a permanent post for Ziggy by the end of the year. There is no way I am going to let Ziggy leave StoryWorld and go back on the job market. The cards were stacked against her at birth and we are her safe harbou
r. I shut down my PC and checked myself in the mirror before locking my office.
I was crossing the forecourt outside our building when Lou Gibson loomed up in front of me. She was wearing a black raincoat which was flapping in the wind and I spotted the small tape recorder around her neck with its light on.
‘A quick word, Liz, if you don’t mind?’ she said.
I stopped walking. Had she been waiting for me or for Ledley? I was glad I had warned him about her.
‘Lou, we’ve spoken already.’
‘I had another question.’
I sighed and crossed my arms. I wanted to get home to Flo.
‘Which is?’
‘How much notice did Fizzy have about this change? We’ve heard it was sprung on her less than a week ago.’
How could she know that? She had to be bluffing.
‘That’s nonsense. Excuse me, I need to get home.’
I tried to walk past her.
‘But aren’t you offended as a woman working in TV that Fizzy has been demoted in this way? I mean, yours was one of the few shows that gave centre stage to a woman. I would think you would condemn this demotion,’ she said.
She was trying to appeal to the feminist in me. I knew I sounded like a cracked record as I reverted to my script.
‘Like I said to you earlier, this is not a demotion. Ledley is in a supporting role. I am delighted, as we all are, that Fizzy, our star, is back tomorrow.’
‘You’re a single-parent mum, aren’t you? Must be tough for you and that must be why you feel sympathetic to Fizzy’s plight,’ she said.
This stopped me in my tracks. I like to keep my family life private. How did she know I was on my own? Several responses leapt to my lips but all of them would have given Lou more information to build her story on.
‘There’s nothing more to say and I really do have a home to get to.’
I hurried away from her, fighting hard the urge to jog. It looked as if she was planning to accompany me to the Tube and press me with more questions. I put my head down and she peeled off after a minute.
I plunged down into the station. The platform was crowded and I pushed to get onto a northbound train to Chalk Farm. I held on to a roof strap as we rattled through the dark tunnels. A man who reeked of garlic was standing too close to me. I wanted to move away from him but there was no space to inch into. I turned my head away from his breath. Lou’s questions had shaken me. I hated her reference to my personal situation and it made me wonder how celebrities like Fizzy ever got used to the media crawling over every aspect of their lives. Lou appeared to know two things. The first was that Fizzy had been given very little notice about the change. The second was that I was against the change and was Fizzy’s champion at the station. Was this her intuition at work or did she have some inside information, and if she had inside information who could be her source? Garlic man finally got off and I could breathe more freely again. He was replaced by a tall youth with earphones whose thumping music I could hear. I didn’t think Lou’s source could be Ledley because a story about Fizzy’s anger and upset would put the spotlight firmly on her and make him the bad guy. It could have been one of the journalists at the station talking out of turn. Everyone had been gossiping about it since the news broke. Molly’s face flashed into my mind. Molly is a feminist and she knows Lou Gibson. No, Molly is as loyal as they come. My hunch was it was either idle talk overheard, or guesswork on Lou’s part.