Amidst the madness, Simon Nash's hand-picked new female stars of Hotel – two tandoori-sprayed blondes with enormous breasts and skimpy skirts – pouted and postured in the flash of cameras. Rosie thought the women looked like they were about to straddle a pole in a lingerie bar rather than front their peers as serious actors. Still, she realised, at least they wouldn't be out of place in the 'Happy Shiny Day' promo.
Rosie smiled at Lisa, who was looking at the two women as though trying to work out where their inflation valves were located, and signalled for her to send up another car. As Lisa spoke into her headset again and delivered another thumbs-up, Rosie was distracted by a tap on the shoulder. It was Keith's PA Mae, looking fetching in a billowing Kermit-green gown.
'Mae, you made it!' Rosie exclaimed, hugging her fondly. 'Is he coming?'
'He'll be here shortly,' Mae answered, grabbing hold of Rosie's hand and not letting go. 'Elaine is bringing him in the back entrance. He's been trying to get hold of you. I think he wants to apologise. Seems he is now aware of just what has been happening behind his back.'
'Oh, Mae, he doesn't need to. I'm fine. Everything's fine. I'm just glad to see you.'
'And me you, Rosie. I'm going to miss you.'
'So he told you?'
'Yes, and I'm happy for you, Rosie. Just promise not to be a stranger.'
'This won't be the last time you see me, Mae,' Rosie replied, squeezing her friend's hand. 'I will never be able to thank you enough for your support.'
'It was my pleasure,' Mae said warmly, before several loud screams diverted their attention.
The two women turned to face the red carpet, where Peter Ingles was posing with a young woman who, Rosie assumed, was his daughter. A hush filled the foyer as stunned onlookers gradually comprehended who the strange-looking man with the trapped-in-a-wind-tunnel face was.
'It's Peter Ingles!' Rosie heard one woman shriek from the press pack, followed by a loud chorus of clicking cameras and murmured remarks of disbelief.
'What has he done to himself?' Mae asked incredulously.
'He's freshened himself up,' Rosie answered, shaking her head in disbelief once again at the undignified sight.
'And who is the girl?' Mae continued.
'I think it's the soon-to-be new Mrs Ingles,' Rosie replied. She'd noticed that the twenty-something woman was holding the sixty-six-year-old Great Gardens host's liver-spotted hand.
'Holy hell,' Mae said, watching the girl turn to reveal the dramatically plunging back of her dress, which displayed three-odd inches of bottom crack. 'I've seen two-dollar hookers with more class.'
'Mae!' Rosie replied tersely. 'I find that comment insulting . . . to working girls, that is!'
As the two women laughed, Rosie watched in horror as the chicken fillet pumping up the young girl's bust popped out of her dress, falling onto the carpet as the cameras whirred feverishly.
CHAPTER 38
Inside the auditorium, Rosie quickly scanned the table settings and adjusted the seating back to her original arrangement, only this time she put Jason Jarvis on a table at the far end of the room, right beside the women's toilets. She double-checked where Simon Nash and Johnno Johnston were sitting, working out the best entrance to send their surprises through.
Rosie stopped to consider her plans and felt a twinge of pity for the unwitting executives, but it was too late to turn things back now.
With everything as orderly as it would ever be, she signalled to the ushers that it was okay to open the doors and allow the guests entry. She watched the who's who of Australian television pile into the large room before she headed backstage to see what dramas were happening behind the lamé curtains. The first person she saw standing in the wings was Big Keith's better half, Elaine Norman, looking like a cool glass of water in a simple white sheath with a Chanel camellia choker adorning her long balletic neck.
'Rosie,' she cried, 'Keith's been looking for you. He knows everything and wants to apologise. I mean, Simon Nash of all people being the one talking to the press. I never liked that man.'
'It's okay, Elaine, honestly it is. So tell me, how is he?'
'He's not great but he's looking forward to receiving his award. Something tells me he has a hell of a speech planned.'
'I bet he does,' Rosie laughed. 'I can't wait.'
'I know he'd love to see you, Rosie. He's in make-up at the moment.'
'I'll check in on him, Elaine, and thank you, for everything,' Rosie replied.
'Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry things worked out the way they did. I know Keith is too.'
Rosie felt her throat choke with tears as she took a final look at Elaine, a true lady in every sense. 'I'm not sorry, Elaine. I've learned a lot about myself in the past two years. And I've certainly loved getting to know you better. Look after him, will you? I know I don't have to ask, but I love that old bastard of yours.'
* * *
Rosie heard Keith well before she spotted him pushing away the make-up artist's blusher brush dismissively. 'Don't put that shit on me. I look like a fucking drag queen as it is.'
'Please, Keith, just five more minutes – please,' the stylist pleaded.
'Fucking hurry up then, will you,' Keith barked, turning back to the lightbulb-framed mirror, and suddenly noticed Rosie's reflection.
'Sweetie,' the Big Man said, smiling brightly and gesturing Rosie closer. 'I've been trying to get in contact with you.'
'I know, Keith,' Rosie replied, taking a seat in the empty chair beside him. He was even thinner than the last time she'd seen him. When she took hold of his outstretched hand, its paper-thin skin seemed to crackle at her touch.
'I'm sorry, Rosie. I should have trusted you,' Keith continued, his voice soft and low. The make-up artist, realising this was a private conversation, moved to the back of the room.
'Hey, it's all fine, Keith, honest. I don't want you to worry any more. You know I love you like a dad. I wouldn't swap the time I spent working with you for anything.'
'And me either, sweetie,' Keith said, his pale eyes watering. 'I'm going to make it up to you. Honest.'
'There's nothing to make up. Just look after yourself and enjoy your time out there. You deserve this award. You truly are a legend.'
Keith looked uncomfortable at the compliment and turned his head away to hide his vulnerability.
Rosie kissed his cheek gently and whispered in his ear, 'Love you, Big Fella,' then left the room.
* * *
Seated at the main Six table, Rosie looked at her program and double-checked the running sheet, wanting the timing to be perfect. She would stay for Keith's speech then hot-foot it back to her room to meet her special guests, returning in time for her grand finale. Looking over at Nash's table, she saw Nathan gesturing wildly at the head of light entertainment, who seemed annoyed by all the drama. Rosie beamed her widest smile in Nash's direction, which he responded to with an unnerved scowl.
The opening number was as excruciating as ever. A medical-themed tribute, it featured the stars of the three free-to-air hospital programs pretending to operate on each other, with dancers dressed in nurses' uniforms and scrubs performing ballet moves holding IV drips and scalpels. Although it only went for six minutes, it seemed like an hour before the room lights came on again, allowing the seated masses to escape for a cigarette break in the foyer and resume gossiping and networking.
Rosie stayed in her seat in the auditorium, despite craving a cigarette herself. She didn't want to miss a second of Keith's tribute, which was coming up next. As the lights began to dim again, she watched the stragglers return to the room, talking loudly over the host, who was attempting to introduce the Lifetime Achievement Award segment.
'If I could have a bit of hush, please,' the exasperated host pleaded, as the mumblings were replaced by the sound of wine bottles being upended in ice buckets and glasses refilled.
'Tonight I have the great honour of presenting an award to a man who has been behind the careers of most of Australia
's TV greats. To say Keith Norman is merely "a legend" would be an understatement as it implies there may be others out there who could lay claim to the title. The fact is, Keith Norman is the legend of Australian TV and I defy anyone in this room to say otherwise. For twenty-four years King Keith has ruled the ratings, and as such the industry, from his throne at his beloved Network Six.
'To be part of Keith's stable of stars meant you had made it in this business – there was nowhere else to go, as you were already at the top. The late, great newsreader Willard Frost said as much when he received the Lifetime Achievement Award on this very stage some three years ago. He also said he would never have made it in the business without the support of his great friend and mentor, Keith Norman, a man who Willard believed had an uncanny insight into what people want to watch and when they want to watch it. I, for one, could not agree more. Ladies and gentleman, I give you this year's Lifetime Achievement inductee, the one and only Mr Television, Big Keith Norman.'
Rosie was on her feet clapping wildly, overjoyed to see the entire room standing upright with her. The thunder of applause, whistles and the banging of glasses on tabletops was almost deafening as the curtains parted and Keith stepped out, though there were shocked exclamations as the audience took in his frail appearance and understood the extent of his illness; many had no idea the Big Man had even been gravely ill. Rosie took a moment to pat herself on the back for protecting Keith's privacy from the press, then wiped the tears streaming from her eyes with a napkin.
It took several minutes for the applause to cease and even after it had, everyone remained standing in homage to the TV great. Rosie was so proud to see him up there, basking in the accolades of his peers, and realised again just how much she would miss the old bastard. Finally, when Keith saw that no one was about to sit down, he began.
'I fucking love television,' he opened, causing the crowd to roar with laughter and clap loudly once more. 'Actually,' he went on, 'I should say I loved television, 'cause what I'm seeing happen in this business today is not what I have dedicated my life to.'
The room went deathly silent.
'Let me read a memo I received by mistake last week. It was sent by a man I have regarded as my son for over twenty years. It's headed "Moving Forward":
As most of you are aware, Network Six has been stuck in a time warp for several years now as we have laboured under a leader who no longer understands the requirements of today's viewing audience. What's more, the image he presents to our peers is embarrassing at best and destructive at worst. Which is why I am letting you know that following the Kennedys telecast, I plan to take this network out of the past and into the future as the newly appointed CEO of Network Six.
In my new role, I will work closely with Tang.Inc to ensure this network is cost-efficient and current. It will be out with the old and in with the new, which means changes at every level from production to publicity.
As such, I am asking you to ready yourselves for the impending changes by checking the contracts of all your talent and staff and, where possible, identifying any loopholes which may allow us to avoid any expensive and unnecessary payouts such as long service leave and other entitlements. There will be a team of Tang.Inc lawyers at your disposal to ensure redundancies are carried out with a minimum of fuss and financial liability.
Once this has been done, we can work together to find younger and less expensive replacements for on-air personalities, as well as streamlining management processes. I know some of you will be sad to see Keith go, however, I ask you to look to me as your new leader and know that I am driven to take Six to new levels of efficiency and profitability. Not only will I require the same level of loyalty as you've shown Keith, I will demand it.
Yours truly
Simon Nash
Acting CEO
A low hum of discontent filled the room as scowling faces turned to Simon Nash. Rosie feared a mob lynching might ensue, and readied herself to call in the security guards if necessary.
'Now calm down, everyone,' Keith continued from the stage, seeing the impact of his words. 'Let me fucking finish, will you?'
Once again the Big Man had the room's attention.
'Look, I know times have changed and I'm aware viewers want different things today, what with the internet and all. But I have to say to all of you, let's not let mean-spirited bean counters and overly ambitious head-kickers fuck the incredible institution that is Australian television. I'm crook and ready to hang up my hat so I'm leaving it up to you, the industry's future. These are my parting words to all of you responsible for entertaining hardworking punters at the end of their day: love television with all your heart. 'Cause let me tell you, these bastards running the networks today only love money. There, I've said my bit. Thanks for the trophy and thanks for listening. Goodbye.'
Rosie had never heard noise like it as the entire room full of people cried, clapped and stamped their feet in unison. She could have stayed there forever, basking in Keith's final triumph, but there was no time.
She had one more thing to do and then it would be over.
CHAPTER 39
Rosie heard the laughter coming from her hotel room even before Daniel opened the door.
'You look incredible,' he exclaimed as he took in her gown, hair, make-up and overall happy demeanour.
'How was the flight?' Rosie asked after kissing him tenderly. 'Has everyone turned up?'
'They're all here, honey. But before you head in, I have something for you.'
Rosie looked at Daniel curiously as he closed the hotel door behind him and pulled her into the hallway. She felt her heart pump in her chest wildly in anticipation as he pulled a velvet box out of his dinner suit jacket and placed it gently in her hands.
Whatever it was, she knew at that moment she was so in love with Daniel there would be no turning back. What she was feeling was big, the biggest. She was gone. Head over heels. And it terrified her. I'm not ready for this yet, she thought in a panic.
'It's not what you might think it is,' Daniel said, looking deeply into Rosie's concerned eyes before kissing her forehead gently. 'Though, I can't promise the next box I give you won't have a ring in it. These are just to say I love you and I am proud of you and I know you are going to write a bestseller when this is all over.'
Rosie could barely see the exquisite antique earrings Daniel handed her through her welling tears.
'Come on, honey, these are supposed to make you happy, not sad,' Daniel laughed as he caught sight of her quivering lip. 'You know how it kills me when you cry.'
'Daniel,' Rosie said, tears now streaming black mascara down her face, 'I am so in love with you I feel sick.'
'Thank god it's not just me that feels that way,' he smiled sweetly in return. 'Let's get tonight over and then we can feel sick for three whole weeks together in Bali. I checked out the accommodation on the net and there's a beautiful room overlooking the ocean for you to write in. Lou, Stephen and I will look after the boys so you can concentrate. But now we had better go in, everyone's waiting for you.'
Rosie stepped into her suite and saw the assembled crowd sipping drinks on her bed, watching the awards telecast on the large plasma TV screen mounted on the opposite wall. When they saw Rosie, they all got to their feet and, just like the crowd had done with Keith downstairs, delivered her a standing ovation.
The Boys' Club Page 31