by Jane Fallon
I nod and Lorna lets out a gasp like an over-acting soap opera extra.
‘And I meant it,’ he carries on regardless. ‘I’ve realized that these past few months… It’s all been a mistake, a big old clichéd mid-life crisis, if you like. I had always had a thing for you… always thought I was in love with you I guess…’
I cannot believe this man. Right in front of him is a woman whose heart he has well and truly broken and he’s barely even noticed she’s there. And not only is she there but she’s very obviously falling apart.
‘I really don’t want to listen to this, OK?’
I go to grab Lorna’s arm and she shrugs me off. We’ve now attracted a little audience comprised of the people who work in the shops up and down the street, which, I’m sure, will do the professional reputation of Mortimer and Sheedy no end of good.
Alex isn’t stopping. ‘But because I knew… I thought… I could never act on it, I put it out of my mind and I was happy with her, I really was. Until… well, you know, it all got too much. But I should have stuck it out – I realize that now. It was as good as it was going to get and everything since has been a mistake.’
‘No…’ Lorna says, or should I say sobs.
Alex finally looks at her. ‘Oh, come on, Lorna, you must have known it wasn’t serious.’
If she wasn’t already crushed, that one lands on her like a ton of bricks and she crumples under the weight. I need to do some damage limitation and get rid of Alex as quickly as I can.
‘What do you want from me?’
‘She listens to you. At the moment she’s saying no, but I know you could persuade her, convince her I’ve changed, that I just want my old life back with her and the girls. I miss my kids, Rebecca. And just think, given time, it could be the four of us again. I know Dan would come round once Izz and I were back together. We could have our little group back, our family. Think how much you’d like for that to happen.’
Actually, what I’d like to happen is for me to punch him right in the face. Unfortunately now isn’t the right time so I just say, ‘I think I should keep out of it. Now just go. Please. Do the right thing for once.’
He hesitates for a moment and then he says, ‘OK. But think about it at least. Everyone deserves a second chance.’
‘Fine,’ I say. Whatever. I just want to get away, or more to the point get Lorna away, at the moment.
Alex makes a move as if to hug me, but I step back. ‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘I’ll see you soon. See you, Lorna,’ he adds, like he was talking to a vague acquaintance.
He goes, thank God, and I am left with the mess formerly known as Lorna Whittaker. She has mascara all over her face so I get hold of her as if she was a small child and I use a tissue to wipe it off.
‘If you walk really quickly, you can still be on time,’ I say. I don’t know how else to handle the situation other than to try to pretend that everything is normal.
‘I can’t go,’ she says. ‘I need to go home.’
‘No, Lorna,’ I say firmly (bad dog). ‘You have to go to this lunch first. Then you can go home.’
‘I can’t.’
‘OK. The thing is you have to. After that you can go home for a week if you want to, I don’t care.’
‘Rebecca, I can’t.’ I think it might be the first time she’s ever used my name without it being pointed, without her then giving me a dressing down about something or other. ‘Look at the state of me.’
There’s no doubt about it, she does look like a mess. The runny mascara has escaped again and her hair has sunk into a lank helmet in sympathy. I know her statement is more about her emotional well being than whether she looks good or not, but I don’t feel equipped to be the one to have to deal with that now, so I start fussing at her face with a tissue again. She grabs hold of my hand and looks me straight in the eye, which is disconcerting to say the least. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she says. ‘You have to help me.’
‘I will. Just get the lunch over with –’
‘No. I’m never going to be able to get through the lunch.’
‘I’ll walk you there. Then you just need to sit there and smile for an hour and a half and kick Heather under the table if it looks like she’s agreeing to something stupid.’
‘I can’t,’ she says again, and I look at my watch. This is madness.
‘Shall I see if either Joshua or Melanie can go instead?’
‘No! I don’t want them to think I can’t cope. You were right, what you said when you came round to my flat, my job is all I’ve got really. I can’t risk it.’
“What, then? I don’t know what to suggest.’
‘You could go instead of me. Say I’m ill again…’
‘Come on, Lorna. Who sends an assistant when they can’t make lunch? It’d be an insult…’
‘OK. Come with me. I can say I’m not quite up to speed because I was off for so long. Please, Rebecca. I’ll be OK if I’ve got some moral support.’
It’s ridiculous. Niall will think she’s got a power complex, taking her assistant to a fairly informal lunch when he would never dream of doing the same. But I don’t know what else to do to get her there so I say yes, fine, let’s go.
On the way she starts talking about Alex. ‘I don’t understand what’s happened to him. We used to be so close.’
I don’t feel like now is a good time to be talking about this, especially as I can hear the crack in her voice that tells me more tears aren’t far off.
‘Let’s think about Heather,’ I say, trying to sound upbeat and positive, which is anything other than how I actually feel. ‘What kinds of things do you think she should be doing?’
‘We’d even talked about moving in together…’
I refuse to be drawn in. ‘Maybe something like Countdown, but at prime time? Or Crimewatch? Is that what she wants? I mean, he’s hardly going to ask her to front Newsnight, is he?’ I look at her. She’s gazing off into the distance, barely watching where she’s walking, so I carry on before she has a chance to talk about Alex some more. ‘Or does she have ideas of her own? Because that would be where the big money was, wouldn’t it? Owning the formats?’
She shrugs. Luckily it’s a short walk and, just before we turn down West Street from St Martin’s Lane I stop her and give her the once over, dabbing stray mascara with another – this time used – tissue I find in my coat pocket. I just about refrain from asking her to spit into it first.
‘Just smile,’ I say. ‘And nod every now and then. It’ll all be over in about an hour or so.’
Heather is already there so we take a seat in the bar. I’m waiting for Lorna to explain what I’m doing there, but she doesn’t so I say, ‘Lorna asked me to come along because as you know she’s not been well the last few weeks and I’ve been sort of covering for her…’ It’s barely an explanation but it’s all I have. Luckily Heather isn’t really interested in anyone other than herself and the little ripple of excitement her presence is causing among a group of middle-aged women at another table, so she doesn’t really react. In fact, she doesn’t even ask Lorna how she is. I’m grateful for her lack of manners, though, because if she did Lorna would probably tell her and that wouldn’t help matters at all.
‘So,’ I say to Heather. ‘Maybe we should have a quick chat before Niall gets here about what exactly it is you want to do…’
‘I’ve been over and over this with Lorna,’ she says petulantly. Lorna looks at me, wide-eyed.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘She said that you want to move on to something a bit more grown-up, a little more substantial. I just wondered if you had any specific thoughts. Because we have a few ideas,’ I add, talking off the top of my head.
‘Well, I don’t see why Terri Sanderson gets all the good jobs,’ she says, naming another young female presenter whose shows aren’t exactly Nobel Prize-worthy.
‘Right…’ I say, with no idea what I am going to say next. Thankfully Niall walks in at that very minute so it’s air kisses all round.
I manage to introduce myself and, though he looks a little bemused, he’s polite enough. He and Heather basically only have eyes for each other, which suits me. I sit back and try to relax a bit, keeping one eye on Lorna.
At the table Niall and Heather talk about mutual acquaintances and who’s hot and who’s not right the way through the starter. I have no idea when is the appropriate time to start a conversation about work or who is meant to initiate it. At one point Niall asks Lorna how she is and she stares down at her plate and mutters something about being fine.
It’s all rather awkward, but as soon as the main course is delivered Niall says, ‘So, you’re thinking of leaving ITV?’ and I tell myself to at least concentrate so that I can step in if the conversation takes a wrong turn.
Heather looks at Lorna as if she’s expecting her to chime in at this point, which, of course, isn’t going to happen. I take a deep breath. What’s the worst that can happen?
‘Well, Niall,’ I say, and he almost jumps. I can see him thinking, Who the hell is she again?, but I carry on regardless. ‘Heather feels like she’s being pigeonholed at ITV. Isn’t that right, Heather?’ Luckily Heather nods, so I carry on. ‘She brings in a great audience for them, as you know, so it suits them to keep her doing that kind of mainstream Saturday night, family stuff where it’s all about the ratings.’ I rattle off the facts and figures that I looked up to give to Lorna and he nods slightly impatiently as if to say yes, I know all this already. ‘The thing is,’ I say, in an effort to wrap up, ‘Heather doesn’t just want to spend her time reading an autocue. She’s capable of so much more than that and she’d like to branch out to do other things.’ I sit back. That’s all I’ve got. Really.
‘Like what?’ Niall says. He looks at Heather and Heather looks at me.
‘Um… like…’ I raise my eyebrows at Heather as if to say, ‘This was all your idea, what is it you’re so desperate to do actually?’
She shrugs.
‘… like documentaries.’
Niall almost laughs but he manages to stop himself and pretend he was choking on his water. ‘You want to do documentaries?’
‘No,’ Heather says testily, ‘not documentaries.’
‘Not exactly documentaries,’ I say, trying to rescue the situation, ‘but… you know, those shows where you see behind the scenes, where she can interview people and show off a bit more of her personality. Like… backstage at Britain’s Brightest Star…’ I add, clutching at straws.
Niall, as ever, looks at Heather rather than me. ‘You want to do back-up shows? Someone else fronts the show and you do little inserts or a support show on BBC3? That doesn’t feel like a big career move to me.’
Heather glares at me. For God’s sake. I wish she’d speak for herself. Surely she must have some idea what she’s capable of?
‘Not back-up shows, no. More like… What Heather was thinking of was more like… I know, say there was a new series, a new talent show to replace Britain’s Brightest Star because surely it can’t go on forever…’ I realize that dissing the BBC’s flagship show is probably not the most sensible idea I’ve ever had so I add, ‘Or maybe it could run in the summer when Brightest Star isn’t on, anyway, Heather could front it but, also say there was a show mid week. Where they did a catch up on all the training and what had happened in the house since last week’s live programme. Sort of like Big Brother, but then they have the talent show on the Saturday. Heather would be great at being in the house, getting to the real stories behind the contestants, finding out who hates who and getting them to spill the beans on who they think their biggest rival is or who is getting on their nerves.’
I’m on a roll now and everyone seems to be paying attention so I carry on. ‘In fact, you could do it twice a week, say on a Tuesday and Thursday. It’d be a real event. Eight o’clock, BBC1. Maybe you even introduce a mid-week heat so one person doesn’t even get to the Saturday show. The audience votes them out based on what they’ve seen of the rehearsals and what they’ve behaved like in the house. If they’re a pain in the arse, they don’t even get to compete. So you’d still have Heather doing what audiences love to see her doing, but then you see another side to her too. That’s it, isn’t it, Heather?’
‘Exactly,’ she says, smiling finally. ‘That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.’
‘That’s really not a bad idea, actually,’ Niall says, addressing me directly for the first time. ‘Britain’s Brightest Star meets Big Brother. That’s really not bad. Is this your idea?’
I’m so tempted to say yes. I’m so proud of myself I want to bask in the glory, but I have to remember the job at hand. ‘Well,’ I say. ‘We sort of all came up with it together.’
‘So you’d be prepared to break your ITV contract if, say, we wanted to look at doing this next summer?’ Niall says to Heather who is positively animated now.
‘Oh yes,’ she says, and I remember why I’m here and jump in. ‘Well, we’d have to talk about it further, first. The deal would have to be right. I mean, Heather’s ITV contract is very lucrative and –’
‘Of course,’ Niall says. ‘We’ll get an offer together and we can meet up again in a few weeks to discuss it.’
He’s looking at me now so I say, ‘Great. Lorna, you’ll be properly back in action by then so I can set something up with you and Niall…’
Lorna nods half-heartedly.
‘Oh, I think you should be there too,’ Niall says. ‘You seem to have the clearest idea of what it should be.’
‘Oh yes,’ says Heather, my new best friend. ‘Rebecca has to be there.’
I look at Lorna, expecting her to be glaring at me – how dare you steal my job, you bitch – but she gives me a small smile of what I think might be encouragement. I nearly fall off my chair.
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘I’d love to.’
28
I’m so full of my own marvellousness that I completely forget about Isabel and Luke until it’s too late to ring her and wish her luck. There’s no doubt that the lunch went well. Niall seems as excited by the idea of Big Britain’s Brightest Brother, as I am now calling it in my head, as he is by the prospect of Heather fronting it. Heather is buzzing with excitement and gratitude, and she seems to have forgotten Lorna’s flakiness and the fact that I am completely unimportant, because as we say goodbye she says, ‘Let’s all go out for a drink one night to celebrate, the three of us,’ and I smile and say, ‘Great,’ despite the fact that I can’t think of anything I would rather do less.
Lorna doesn’t mention going home again so we sort of drift back to the office together. We don’t speak on the way, but that’s fine because I have so much going on in my head I wouldn’t really be capable of holding a conversation anyway. Niall Johnson, the Controller of Entertainment Commissioning at the BBC likes my idea. My idea that I came up with on the spot is probably going to be on the television. Of course, no one will know it was my idea, I’m not about to start fighting for format fees and credits because the point is I shouldn’t have been at that lunch anyway, the point is that it’s our job at Mortimer and Sheedy to get good jobs for our clients even if that involves coming up with the ideas ourselves. The point is that when – if – that programme ever airs I will know and that will be enough.
I’m not sure how we are going to play it back at the office because Joshua and Melanie are certain to want to know how the meeting went and do we tell them about my involvement or not? I’m assuming not. To tell them would create even more questions needing answers. I decide to leave it to Lorna.
I settle down to type some letters, but it’s hard to concentrate. Lorna shuts herself in her office and a few minutes later I hear Joshua tap on her door and go in. I wait with bated breath for him to come out again but then Melanie walks through reception and says to Kay, ‘Do you know how the Niall Johnson meeting went?’
Kay knows the truth. Well, she doesn’t know the details, but I muttered to her about having had to go to the lunch when I firs
t got back. She looks at me and I shake my head, trying to tell her not to mention the fact that I was there.
In the end she plumps for complete ignorance and says, ‘No, Lorna didn’t say.’
I keep my head down, hoping Melanie will go away but she hangs around talking about nothing with Kay until Joshua comes back and says, ‘Sounds like it went well. Apparently Johnson is going to come up with a proposal for Heather based on some programme idea she wants to do that he likes.’
‘Wow,’ Melanie says, ‘that’s great. We’ll need to keep it quiet for a couple of months, obviously…’
‘Obviously,’ Joshua says. ‘Lorna’s hoping she can negotiate a big new three-year deal for her off the back of this. Plus Heather will own a share of the format by the sounds of it. It could earn her a fortune.’
‘And us, hopefully,’ Melanie says, putting into words what’s really on Joshua’s mind.
‘Congratulations, Lorna,’ she adds, spotting Lorna on her way to the kitchen. ‘It sounds like you handled that really well.’
‘Thanks,’ Lorna says, smiling. She doesn’t look at me.
The rest of the day goes by in a blur and it’s only when I’m on the tube on the way home that I remember I was going to call Isabel. By the time I get off and have a signal again it’s too late. She’s meeting Luke at six thirty and I don’t want to ring in the middle of their confrontation so I send a text that says, ‘Good luck. Call me as soon as it’s over,’ and I go home and wait nervously for her to let me know how it went.
Dan is as anxious as me so we try to distract ourselves by offering to help the kids with their homework. It doesn’t really work because Zoe’s idea of getting assistance is to leave the room and hope we just do it all for her, which is against my principles, and William thinks that children whose parents oversee their homework are ‘lame’ and he flat out refuses our offer.
Dan helps me with the tea and we try to talk about other things to take our minds off it. To be fair he’s really keen to hear about my day, especially when I get to the part about having to go to the lunch. He makes a big show of being proud of me for saving the day as he puts it. Plus he claims to like my idea, but I think he’s just being kind. Dan hates reality TV.