by Jane Lythell
Celebrities are often disappointing when you meet them face to face. They are usually smaller and less striking than they look on screen, as if the camera has made them more heroic. But Ashley Gascoigne was extremely good-looking and charismatic in the flesh. He has curly dark hair and intense brown eyes and I found myself feeling flustered as I took him to the green room. He had three people with him: his assistant, his publicist and his stylist. I welcomed them and offered them refreshments. Ziggy was in the green room serving the coffees and teas and I loved that she was unfazed by the proximity of Ashley Gascoigne. I thought Julius might come down to say hello but he stayed away. He watches the show from his office. He says you get a false sense of things if you watch it from the gallery. It is true that when mistakes happen on air they look more catastrophic from the gallery. Ashley’s publicist asked for a green tea and drew me aside. She wanted to know if the station had a back exit.
‘Yes, there is. Don’t you want to leave by the front though? I’m sure there’ll be some press there,’ I said.
‘We don’t need it and he’s already done the autograph thing. Get our cars to meet us at the back. I want a quick getaway.’
I didn’t like her. She hadn’t said please and she gave the impression that she was a woman used to giving orders and to people jumping to attention. But all her power came from the reflected glory of Ashley Gascoigne. I asked Ziggy to make sure the taxis were at the back of the studio at the end of the interview.
I accompanied Ashley to the studio door and the floor manager took him in. I sat in the gallery next to the director and we had scheduled fifteen minutes for this interview, far longer than our usual slot, as I wanted to make the most of having such a big name on the sofa. Fizzy was enjoying it and was on great form. We rolled in three clips during the interview, including the famous one of Ashley stripping and washing in a river, which had had the womanhood of Britain swooning. Fizzy said after the clip that this trumped Mr Darcy swimming in the lake and Ashley took this with good grace. We went to the ad break and I came out of the gallery and saw his publicist shouting at Ziggy. I hurried over.
‘What’s going on?’
‘This idiot girl hasn’t got the cars where I asked!’ the publicist said.
‘But I told them to go out the back,’ Ziggy said, hugging her arms around her ribs tightly.
‘Where the fuck are they then?’ she hissed.
‘No need to talk to her like that!’ I said.
The publicist turned to me. ‘What?’
‘Don’t speak to my runner like that.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Oh, I get it. Now you’ve had your interview you don’t care. Last time I’ll let him be booked onto this crap show.’
Ashley was coming out of the studio door with his assistant at his side and the publicist shut up. I wondered if he knew what a bitch she was. I went over to him and thanked him warmly for coming to StoryWorld.
‘My pleasure, I enjoyed it,’ he said.
‘We’ve booked your cars for the back exit as requested and they should be there any minute.’
I walked with him to the exit and when we got outside the two cars were waiting for them. There was also a handful of fans who had gathered there. Ashley stopped to chat to them briefly and to sign more autographs. I shot a glance at the mean-spirited publicist and gave a small smile. Ashley and his assistant got into the front car and she stepped into the second car with the stylist and they drove off. I’ve made an enemy there. I walked back in and Ziggy was hovering in the reception area as if she was waiting for me.
‘No one’s ever done that before,’ she said.
‘Done what?’
‘Stood up for me. Thanks.’
*
At the morning meeting Julius let Fizzy rave on about Ashley Gascoigne and what a difference it made to get a true A-lister on the show.
‘I loved every minute of it,’ she said.
We all congratulated Fizzy on her interview and I was feeling good about my job. As the meeting came to an end I asked Julius if we could have a quick word. The outside broadcast was the next day and I had decided this would be the moment to show him the Naomi Jessup interview in the afterglow of the Ashley Gascoigne success.
‘Sure.’
I followed him to his office.
‘I have an interview I want to show you. Molly filmed one of the patients at St Eanswythe’s. She is dying of cancer and—’
‘Dying...’
‘Hear me out. The way she talks about it is so moving and inspirational and I’d like your view on it.’
‘OK,’ he said.
‘Give me ten minutes and I’ll get it set up downstairs.’
When Julius joined me in the edit suite it was just the two of us as I knew Molly would get too passionate and might argue with him if he was critical of her work. She had cut the interview back to four and a half minutes and it was even more powerful at this length.
‘It’s good work,’ he said when it was finished.
‘I thought so too.’
‘But we can’t transmit it as part of the OB.’
‘The sponsor asked for inspirational and this is inspirational.’
He swung his swivel chair round to face me.
‘Liz, thanks for showing it to me but you know the sponsor will not want this in the show. We pitched it as a community hospital with good team spirit and patients on the mend.’
‘I sometimes think we underestimate our audience,’ I said.
‘Maybe we do.’
‘Seriously, some of the best reactions we’ve got have been to difficult stories, stories we’ve taken a risk on.’
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you and your team member but this is not going out as part of the OB.’
He is the director of programmes and he gets the last say. We both stood up. He hesitated at the door of the edit suite.
‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate the extra hours you’ve been putting in to make this OB work,’ he said.
I flushed at his praise; it was a rare enough occurrence. He opened the door for me and we parted at the top of the stairs. Molly was watching me intently as I walked towards my office and I made a slight shake of my head.
‘Come into my room.’
‘He’s said no, hasn’t he?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid he has, but he thought it was excellent work, and it is excellent work.’
‘What’s the good of that if it doesn’t get shown?’
‘I argued for it and I know how disappointed you must feel.’
She was looking down at the floor as she said: ‘We get so little time with a camera crew here and I think I need to develop that part of my work. It’s what I want to do long-term.’
Molly is an honest person. There is no side to her and she was telling me that she wanted to leave the station. I can’t afford to lose her. There is already too much for the three of us to do as we are still carrying Harriet.
‘You must know how much I value your work Moll.’
*
In the afternoon I completed the running order for the outside broadcast. I included the Naomi Jessup interview as the standby tape. We almost never use the standby tape. In fact it has never happened at any of the OBs I have produced. But there has to be at least one available for the director to screen should the live link go down. Molly had been looking upset all day. I went out to the team and over her shoulder I saw that she had the Guardian jobs page up on her screen. She closed her screen down quickly but she must have known I had seen she was job hunting.
For Simon and Ziggy a sense of anticipation was building about the outside broadcast. We had to be at the hospital by five-thirty a.m. and I’d told Molly, Simon and Ziggy that they could book taxis to get them there. I reminded Harriet to be at her desk by six thirty in case we needed anything at the last minute and she could have a taxi too. The team were packing up to go when I did a last check on the paperwork.
‘Stop a minute, guys; not so fast, I can�
��t find Dirk’s release form.’
‘They’re all in the folder,’ Harriet said.
‘His isn’t. I’ve checked twice.’
Harriet looked sheepish and I remembered that she had snuck off early on the day of the hospital shoots and Molly had returned to the station on her own.
‘You were in charge of this. Did you get the form from Dirk?’
‘I thought I had,’ she said.
I was furious in a flash. It was her passive response as much as her error that angered me.
‘I told you how important those forms were. We can’t transmit without it. Is he still at the hospital?’
‘No,’ Simon said. ‘He’s gone home. Look, I’ll track him down tonight and I’ll get the form signed. It’s my story and—’
‘No! Thanks for the offer, Simon, but this is for Harriet to sort out. You three get off now and I’ll see you first thing tomorrow.’
They picked up their rucksacks. Simon was looking worried as he left with Molly and Ziggy. I turned to Harriet.
‘You’ve got time to put this right. Here is Connie Mears’s number.’ I wrote it down on a post-it note. ‘That’s my home number too. Connie is the senior manager. Call her now and get Dirk’s address and then go over to his place and get the form signed.’
‘Will you call Connie Mears?’ she said in a helpless voice which made me even more enraged.
‘No. You’ve got to do this. If you want to become a researcher you have to take responsibility and see things through.’
She sighed and looked down at the post-it note.
‘I know, I’ll ask Dad to send his driver round to pick up the form.’
‘You will not. You will go and see Dirk personally and get that form signed. I need to know by ten at the latest that it’s sorted. Call me at home once you’ve got it.’
I picked up my bag and as I left she was sitting at her desk using the phone. All the way home in the Tube my anger against Harriet raged. Dirk’s interview is the best of the stories we’ve got now that we’re not transmitting Naomi Jessup. Harriet would have let Simon do the graft for her, or her dad’s driver, if I hadn’t intervened. She is such a little princess. Occasionally I’ve allowed a story to go out without a contributor release form, but it’s a risky thing to do and it leaves the station vulnerable. This was a sensitive story about a young man’s amputation and I couldn’t risk it.
Chalk Farm flat, 7.15 p.m.
I gave Flo a photo-card signed by Ashley Gascoigne. I’d asked him to put her name on it and to my surprise she was pleased with it. She sat with me at the kitchen table. I was chopping an onion to make a cheese and onion frittata and my eyes were watering.
‘Guess what? Paige’s dad says he can get our names on the door for the Cat and Mouse on Friday night. Can I go?’
She sounded excited.
‘What’s the place called?’
‘The Cat and Mouse. You know, the one I told you about.’
‘Did you?’
‘Yes. The club Harriet goes to. In Camden Town. Everyone at school wants to go there.’
‘Don’t you need ID cards for those kind of places?’
‘Not if our names are on the door.’
My first instinct was to say no but I played for time. I got up and rinsed my fingers under the cold water tap.
‘These onions are very strong.’ I blinked away the tears. ‘Let me think about it, sweets.’
‘What’s the problem? Her dad’s going to be there.’
‘Those places have an age bar for a reason, you know.’
‘I’m not going to drink alcohol or anything. I just want to see the band and we’ve got free tickets.’
‘Let me check out the venue and—’
‘It’s not like you’ll be at home to hang out with,’ she said.
‘Flo, I said I’ll look into it. I’m not going to say yes tonight.’
I said it as calmly as I could but she got up from the table with a jerk.
‘Why d’you have to be so uptight about it?’
‘I’m not being uptight about it.’
‘Yes you are!’ she shouted.
‘You think you’ll get what you want by shouting?’ But I had raised my voice too. All my buttons were pressed.
‘You are the most horrible controlling mother in the world!’
This was followed by a great slamming of her bedroom door. I stood outside her door and shouted through it.
‘And you’re behaving like a spoiled brat. One day that door will come off its hinges!’
‘Leave me alone!’ she shrieked from her bedroom.
I was shaking with anger and I left the cooking and went into my bedroom. Why did my rows with Flo escalate so fast? I thought back. She had been pleased with the Ashley Gascoigne card but in minutes she was shouting at me and I was shouting back. Why was I able to control my anger at work but not at home? I felt a failure as a parent and I wanted to call Ben and tell him that he didn’t know what he was missing.
When Janis first came to work for me she told me a story that has stayed with me. It was a hot afternoon and after she had picked Flo up from school she took her to Primrose Hill to find a breeze and to eat sandwiches on the grass. They had walked to the top of the hill where there is this panoramic view of London spread out below with all its buildings, cranes and spires. Flo pointed to the view and said: ‘That’s London and my mummy works there.’
It makes me sad when I think of Flo saying that. She was missing me and she probably wished she had a stay-at-home mum who would pick her up from school every day. Her comment tonight that I wouldn’t be around for her to hang out with had stung because it was true. I spent so much time at work, not at home. I wrote down the name of the venue, the Cat and Mouse. I haven’t met Paige’s mum or dad yet but the father works in the music industry which is presumably why he can get them the tickets. Would it be OK to let her go? She was so keen on the idea. But I don’t like the way Paige is left alone in their house so often and I doubt that the father would make the best of chaperones. Flo said Harriet goes to the Cat and Mouse and I can check it with her tomorrow.
Ten past ten and Harriet called. She had tracked Dirk down and had the contributor release form duly signed. She sounded positively resentful and was talking as if she had done me a favour. I had to bite back the harsh words I wanted to say to her, that it was her sloppiness that had caused her the late night. Instead I thanked her for calling me and reminded her that she needed to be in the office by six-thirty a.m. to monitor calls for the team. As I went to bed I thought that I was being too easy on Harriet and maybe that was because of who her father is and the MD connection. I had been harsher with Amanda. She had been in my team three years ago and, like Harriet, she was passive and one of life’s whiners. I have a low tolerance for whingeing as we work in an industry that most people would love to join. When Amanda complained about the long hours I would snap that we weren’t working in the Siberian salt mines, for God’s sake! She brought out my nasty side and she didn’t last long in my team.
As I turned out the light in my bedroom I reflected that maybe I was being over-protective with Flo and that I needed to cut her some slack.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
St Eanswythe’s Hospital, Bermondsey, 6 a.m.
The outside broadcast truck was parked in the hospital car park. It took the technical guys a while to find the right position to get an uninterrupted uplink path to the satellite but finally we were getting a good signal. We have four cameras: three will be set up in the wards with the fourth one in the hospital kitchen in the basement. Ledley was already down there preparing the ingredients for his cooking demonstration. He was going to make Jamaican patties and a cake for the patients. Fizzy arrived ten minutes ago and we go to air at eight a.m.
There is such a heightened atmosphere to an outside broadcast. It’s unlike any other kind of programme-making and what makes it work is when the whole team pull together as one. Simon and Molly arrived and I
put them in charge of lining up the patients for Fizzy to talk to as we move through the wards. Ziggy arrived ten minutes later and she would be the on-site runner and would do the fetching and carrying. All three had taken my advice and were wearing trainers as they will have to move fast around the hospital which has miles of corridors; we have all been issued with a map of the hospital layout.
Once we go on air I will be sitting in the mobile control room with the director and the PA. It’s a tight squeeze in there with a production gallery including a bank of monitors showing the output from the four cameras. We will be in voice contact with Fizzy, Ledley and the floor manager throughout. It was at an OB that I first met Todd two years ago. Our show was coming from the Natural History Museum and it had been a six-camera operation. I was sitting close to him in the truck as he directed the cameras. It was an ambitious shoot but it had gone brilliantly and when the credits rolled Todd and I were euphoric. Our first date followed soon after. And now he is on the other side of the world.
I walked around the hospital making last minute checks that everything was in place. Connie Mears arrived just after seven and I thought she looked nervous. She has something to lose if it goes wrong today and if the hospital is shown in a poor light. She was amazed at the length of cabling we had laid down for the lights and the sound feeds. The cameras are on radio links to allow the crew to get in close to any interaction Fizzy has with the patients. Connie and I wished each other luck and I went to find Henry. I was glad it was Henry, our most experienced floor manager, who was on duty. During an outside broadcast the floor manager is the key member of the team because he creates order among all the strangeness and unfamiliarity of the location. He was drinking a coffee and eating a bacon roll by the catering van. We discussed the trickiest part of the show, which was when we had to get two cameras down from the wards to the kitchen in the basement. We would be doing this during an ad break and the turnaround time was going to be short. He threw his paper cup in the bin.