Back After the Break

by Anita Notaro

  Tomorrow’s programme was a mixed bag. The three glamorous mistresses had eventually made it on to the final running order, and Lindsay was relieved that Chris would be doing it instead of Tom, who had taken a real dislike to the item, for some reason. They had the latest American teen idol, a sixteen-year-old girl who had sold ten million albums worldwide and sang about hot sex yet claimed never to have kissed a boy. A senior government minister who had been embroiled in a complicated money scandal had finally agreed to break his silence and tell his story for the first time and they had an interview with an up-and-coming young Irish actress who had just been offered a twenty-million-dollar role in a Hollywood movie. On paper it was a very strong show.

  Chris said he was completely comfortable with the government minister, happy with the actress, knew very little about the teen star but had already spent most of the night browsing the hundreds of sites devoted to her on the Internet. He was unsure about the item on mistresses, simply because he felt women would love it and most men would be uncomfortable.

  ‘I feel they’ll be threatened by it but riveted to it.’ Lindsay was prepared for this. ‘Statistically, men are the ones more likely to have affairs. On the other hand many women regard mistresses as traitors, claiming they degrade the female sex. But certainly one of our women will claim that mistresses keep marriages together and another will say it’s a better life than being a wife. We also have an interesting mix of people planted in the audience, several women whose marriages ended when they discovered their husbands having an affair, a woman who lost everything to a mistress and a man whose wife finally left him and, once he became available, his mistress didn’t want to know. All in all, I think it will make for compulsive viewing, seeing as it’s Irish women openly discussing this and as far as we know it’s a topic that hasn’t been done before on TV in this country.’

  ‘I think you’re right. I just need to get a handle on it – I feel my role is important and I don’t want to blow it. Could we talk about it later?’ He gave her a ghost of a smile, the first in a long while.

  ‘Sure, but why don’t you and David go through the briefs first because it’s his item, then maybe the three of us can plan our approach later?’

  They ran through a few final items, including the audience, and Lindsay asked Kate to work with Monica, ensuring the ‘plants’ were well seated and the younger invited guests got to be near their idol. She sensed the other girl didn’t want to do it but she had too much on her plate to worry about it now.

  The press conference was very well attended and Chris arrived looking stunning in a dark-grey, oversized Italian suit, crisp white shirt and expensive tie. His hair was long by comparison with the other men at the top table and he looked clean, fit, tanned and healthy as he took his seat next to Jonathan Myers. The interest was palpable. The photographers flocked around him and Lindsay could sense he was uncomfortable. There were lots of questions about whether this would become a permanent arrangement but Chris assured them he was simply filling in for Tom, which was clearly the only answer to give but not what they wanted to hear. She stayed in the background until Jonathan insisted she join them when someone asked, ‘Who’ll be producing the show?’

  He gave her full credit and it was her turn to feel the heat of the spotlight and she liked it even less.

  Afterwards, all the papers wanted a photograph of herself and Chris, partly because of her supposed involvement with Colin Quinn, she suspected, and they were forced to stand close together and look happy, which made her laugh, at least.

  The day was completely mad and the office was still full at eight o’clock, with everyone anxious to make sure they played their part in what was expected to be a landmark show. Lindsay realized she hadn’t eaten all day and decided reluctantly to be the first to leave at eight-thirty, feeling a bit tired and emotional.

  ‘I’ll be on the mobile if anyone needs me.’ She picked up her bag and said a general good night.

  Chris stood up immediately. ‘Could we have a chat about things, you know, what my approach at the start should be, how I handle the whole Tom business etc.? Jonathan felt that the three of us should sit down and discuss it.’

  ‘Yes, of course, sorry I should have mentioned earlier, his secretary rang and suggested twelve noon in his office tomorrow. I just assumed she’d rung you as well. Is that OK, or is it too early for you to come in?’

  ‘No, I was planning to work at home in the morning but I’ll be there, no problem.’

  ‘Great, well call me if you need anything else before then. Good night.’ She opened the door and almost ran to her car, needing food and air and a hug. The cool spring evening helped and she was too tired to do anything other than grab a sandwich on the way home and the only hug available came from an ecstatic, crazy bundle of fluff.

  Her mobile rang at ten-thirty, just as she was dozing off and she saw that it was Chris and she diverted it, not wanting him to think she didn’t have a life, and then was sorry when he didn’t leave a message.

  Chapter Forty-One

  THE NEXT DAY went without a hitch, which was always slightly worrying. After the evening meal break they rehearsed the show from start to finish with Chris only, going through his opening for cameras, checking his seated position for make-up and lighting and reading through all his introductions. He had opted not to use autocue. They had discussed it for ages – Chris wanted his approach to be as off-the-cuff as possible and Lindsay agreed. Cards had been prepared for him as a back-up, with all the basic information he needed and they both felt his relaxed approach would come across on screen. As they finished the rehearsal she could tell he was nervous and she suddenly wished they had remained friends, at least, so that she could have assured him everything was going to be OK, instead of remaining stilted and formal with him, as she had done all day.

  She insisted he take a break before the show and he headed back to his dressing room for a breather and Lindsay left instructions that he was not to be disturbed. She went to check on the audience and discovered that Kate had done nothing to help Monica so far. Lindsay, who rarely got upset over something so trivial, was furious. She found Kate swanning around the hospitality room and called her outside.

  ‘Kate, I asked you to help Monica with the audience and I find her struggling to manage on her own. Is there a problem?’

  ‘I’m doing things for Chris.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘Just things he needs for the show.’

  ‘I said, what things?’

  ‘I’ve done them anyway.’

  ‘Kate, I am not going to argue with you now but I want you to take responsibility for the audience this minute and if there is one problem with them tonight you will not be part of this team on Monday. Do you understand?’

  ‘You’re not the boss, you can’t order me around.’

  ‘Either do what I say or you’re off the show from now.’

  Kate walked off and Lindsay knew she’d won but she was too furious to care and there were already more urgent problems demanding her attention.

  The baby-faced, angelic teen star and her entourage were becoming more and more demanding and refusing to come out of their dressing rooms. There were rumours of a strong smell of dope in the corridor outside, which was worrying. Also, one of the mistresses had arrived having consumed several drinks to ‘steady her nerves’ and the government minister was insisting that Lindsay give him a list of the questions Chris would be asking, in advance.

  She sent their good-looking stage manager to try and work his charms on the teenager, despatched the hospitality hostess to fetch a pot of strong coffee for the three ladies and detoured to Chris’s dressing room en route to meet the minister. She didn’t particularly want to go to his room but knew these few minutes before going on air might be crucial to his performance.

  She knocked gently.

  ‘Come in.’ His voice sounded slightly strained and he looked a little edgy but otherwise she thought she’d never seen
him look as good. They had chosen his outfit with wardrobe the previous day and it had felt very personal, asking him to try on several suits, but the effort had paid off. He was wearing a black, fine wool suit and very dark grey shirt, open at the neck. The jacket was cut beautifully and fell from his shoulders making him look taller and broader. He’d asked her advice about his hair, wondering if he should get it cut, but she felt it worked and told him so, and make-up made his skin more even and his eyes whiter. He looked too big for the small cubby hole with his long legs and powerful frame and the overall effect was quite something.

  He gave her a rueful grin. ‘Christ, I’m just wondering what I’ve got myself into. How’s it looking out there, by the way? Any problems?’

  ‘Nope, everything’s fine,’ she lied. ‘The audience are really lively and the warm-up artist has had them rolling in their seats for the past ten minutes.’ She didn’t add that the floor manager had spent another five getting them to rehearse the opening round of applause to greet their new presenter. Hopefully he’d get a nice surprise that would carry him through.

  ‘Has the minister arrived?’

  ‘Yes, just on my way to say hello to him now. The mistresses are very lively and our teen idol seems in great form. You OK about it all?’

  ‘Fine. What about notes during the show?’

  ‘I’ll talk to you at each commercial break or during a music number or recorded piece if it’s urgent.’

  He nodded, just as the floor manager tapped on the door.

  ‘Chris, three minutes to air.’

  ‘On my way.’

  ‘I’ll walk with you,’ she said as he held open the door. ‘I just know it’s going to be a fantastic show, I really do. You’re up to speed on all the stuff and I think the most important thing now is to just follow your instinct with the guests. Above all, I hope you enjoy it, it’s one helluva buzz. I love it.’ She grinned at him and he smiled back.

  They were standing behind the set, waiting for his cue and he continued to watch her and for one moment all their animosity was forgotten. She just wanted him to do well because he was a really nice guy and she suddenly remembered why she’d fallen so hard for him.

  ‘It’s just so completely different to anything else I’ve ever done – and it’s live. Christ, I’m nervous.’ In the middle of the big black hole that was backstage they grinned at each other and her stomach lurched.

  Suddenly, the music from the opening animation flooded the giant speakers and the floor manager gave him the fifteen-second cue.

  ‘Good luck, but you don’t need it. You’ll be great.’ It was the best she could do for him without kissing him or crying all over his expensive clothes and he glanced back at her as he walked through the arch to rapturous applause that took him completely by surprise.

  ‘Thank you very much. Hello, good evening and welcome to the show . . .’ He had to stop because the applause was still deafening and the director cut to the cheering audience and back to a smiling Chris and within twenty seconds she knew he’d be brilliant and in spite of everything she was glad for him.

  The minister threatened to walk out if she didn’t show him the questions and Lindsay politely informed him that the papers knew of his appearance and that she would be forced to offer an explanation for his departure. He backed down and she assured him that the format was exactly as discussed with the researcher and he insisted on going over the whole thing again.

  The sixteen-year-old singer was definitely a star and Chris handled her beautifully. He treated her like an adult and she responded like a baby, giggling about her popularity with guys on the Internet and teasing Chris blatantly, as she did with all men, Lindsay suspected.

  As soon as they hit the first commercial break she slipped over to him with a broad grin on her face. ‘That was as close to cradle-snatching as I’ve ever seen but you got away with it and the show is flying.’ She was happy for him.

  ‘I’ll tell you, they didn’t make sixteen-year-olds like that in my day. Whew, she was hot,’ he grinned back.

  ‘I think the entire country will have gathered that you liked her. The phones are hopping, everyone saying how great you are.’

  ‘I don’t believe that for a minute, but thanks for lying to me. I feel much better now that it’s up and running.’

  ‘The rest will be a doddle, but keep your eye on the three ladies, I think Lola has had a drink or two.’

  ‘Thanks for the warning.’

  ‘Twenty seconds back to us,’ the floor manager announced.

  ‘Stand by, studio, for music and applause. Chris, coming to you on camera two.’

  Lindsay slipped back into the shadows and watched quietly. The millionaire Irish actress flirted outrageously with him and he got her talking about shooting sex scenes with an ageing heart-throb actor who insisted on having his bottom made up and properly lit before she even got near the bed. Her stories were hilarious as she assured him she earned every penny. The audience laughed hysterically. She was completely self-deprecating and Chris seemed to be enjoying it as much as everyone else.

  The mistresses told their stories to gasps from the women in the audience and eventually a huge row broke out, with one woman screaming abuse from the aisle. Chris immediately went down and sat beside her, which wasn’t planned in rehearsals but worked a treat and made him seem even more relaxed and approachable. His manner was probing yet he seemed to understand both sides and overall it went down a storm and was completely different to the rest of the show. The interview with the government minister was one of the toughest Lindsay had seen. It was clear Chris knew his stuff and he asked all the hard questions but was polite and measured and there wasn’t a peep out of the audience who’d been cheering or hollering for most of the night. They sat transfixed as Chris quietly edged the politician into a corner, from which there was no way out.

  Suddenly it was over. The credits rolled, the closing music boomed out, and the audience all wanted his autograph or to have their photos taken with him. He stayed and chatted whereas Tom would have slipped away immediately.

  As soon as she’d gathered her stuff together she made her way over to him and his eyes were shining.

  ‘Jesus, I’d murder a pint. That was some buzz, you were right.’ She knew he was on a real high because he reached for her and pulled her to him and gave her a bear-hug and she let him.

  ‘Thanks for everything, you were amazing.’ She avoided looking at him and she sensed he was a bit embarrassed all of a sudden.

  ‘Pleasure, I’ll ask Jan to have a very cold beer waiting for you.’ She left without looking at him and felt his eyes following her and when she arrived in the hospitality suite Jonathan hugged her again.

  ‘Well done, congratulations, that was a splendid show. Chris was even better than I had hoped. Were you pleased?’

  ‘I certainly was and you’re right, he was terrific, I’m dying to see the ratings.’ All of a sudden a wave of tiredness, unlike any other, swept over her and she could easily have slipped into a coma in a corner.

  Chris appeared and everyone wanted a piece of him and he looked relaxed and happy as he sipped a beer and chatted to Jonathan. She saw him glance in her direction several times, but was too tired to care and as she walked one of the guests to the limo she used the opportunity to sneak off home, feeling a bit tired and emotional.

  Of course, she couldn’t sleep, her adrenalin was still pumping, so she sat up in bed and watched a tape of the show. A text arrived about an hour later.

  WHERE R U? NEVR GOT A CHANCE 2 TALK PROPERLY. COULDN’T HAVE DUN IT W/OUT U.

  It made her feel lonely all over again and she wished there wasn’t a baby because then maybe they could go back and start afresh. But not now, she was certain of that.

  Next morning Lindsay woke with a burning sensation that travelled from her navel to her throat like a hot curry. She thought she was going to throw up but nothing came. She tried to get to the bathroom but had to crawl back to bed and lie down unt
il the dizziness passed. Frightened, she called her sister.

  ‘Heartburn,’ Anne announced. ‘Are you dry retching?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘OK, you need to make sure you’re not dehydrated.’

  ‘I didn’t really eat or drink anything yesterday.’

  ‘Lindsay, this is not on. I’ll be over shortly. Stay in bed.’

  Like I’m going anywhere, she thought as she hung up.

  Anne arrived and mothered her and made her drink lots and fed her soup later, when things had improved a little. She brought all the Sunday papers and two of them carried a photo of herself and Chris, with a short piece on Tom’s illness. It was the only photo she had of them together and she tore it out and put it in her wallet and felt worse.

  The girls arrived and Anne left after insisting that Lindsay go to her doctor the next day. She promised. She got up and tried to clean her teeth but the smell of the toothpaste almost made her throw up again and she caught sight of a puffy, pasty face in the mirror as she crawled back to bed. So much for her health kick.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  ON MONDAY, LINDSAY went to her own doctor. If Alison Crowley, who had known her for years, was surprised by her announcement, she was too experienced to show it.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘I was fine, too well actually, up to now, but yesterday I got the most terrible heartburn, at least that’s what I think it was and I spent the day trying to get sick but not being able to. I’m also feeling a bit dizzy if I try to get up suddenly, so all in all I feel pretty grim.’

  ‘All sounds normal, I’m afraid. How’s your weight?’

  ‘Well, surprisingly I don’t seem to have put on very much anywhere except on my boobs, which are swollen and sore. But I’ve no real tummy and I’m over three months.’