‘Give her away,’ said Bella quietly, looking at her empty saucer. She turned to look at Carmel, her eyes suddenly blazing.
‘And I can’t forgive her. I just can’t.’
‘What about the father?’
‘Ian was … perfect, but my mother, she was … so sure at the time and I was so …’ Bella trailed off.
‘So young,’ Carmel finished for her. ‘No use looking back, though, Bella. Like I said, you never know what’s around the corner.’
Bella had an urgent need to blow her nose.
‘You’re right,’ she said, but didn’t sound convinced.
Being out of work was dangerous. At least when she was on the studio floor Bella could block out her sadness with food. Now she had too much time to think about the past.
Bella was just about to order an urgent second helping of cake when her phone rang.
The words ‘Flair 4 TV’ blazed on her phone strip. Fumbling, she wrenched it from her bag.
‘Hello?’ said Bella. Maybe Sharon was bored and wanted to chat to someone lower down the pecking order. But to her great surprise it was Yvonne’s high hysterical voice which replied.
‘Darling, how are you?’
Bella was in shock but mustered enough sense to lie. ‘Busy Yvonne. Pretty busy,’ and then before she could stop herself she added, ‘Have you had any of the messages I’ve been leaving for the last six months?’
‘Yes, well, that’s why I’m ringing. Well, actually it isn’t. But can you come in to the studio this afternoon?’
‘Why?’
There was a pause. Bella could hear Yvonne take a big breath. Bella hardly dared breathe herself.
‘To, er … to present Finger Food. We’re doing this pilot called …’
‘I know exactly what the pilot’s called. It was my idea,’ Bella snapped back.
This was ignored. ‘I’ll have a car pick you up? Where are you?’
‘I’m … I’m at work.’
‘Can I get you another slice of anything?’ shouted Carmel in her ear. ‘Cappuccino? You’ve made good work of that carrot cake, haven’t you, Bella – that’s my girl. You stop wallowing! Nasty boss or no nasty boss!’
Bella pointed at her phone hoping this would make Carmel back off. It didn’t. She folded her arms, waiting for another order. It was clear she expected a full reply. Especially as they had shared an intimate exchange only seconds before.
Bella mimed a ‘Yes please to both’, and nodded furiously.
A silence played out on the phone as Bella wondered how best to respond. If Yvonne was actually offering her the dream job, she couldn’t be seen to jump at it. But Yvonne was so reliably mean she couldn’t afford to play it too cool, either. She might change her mind just to spite her.
The only thing Bella knew for certain was that she’d never get another chance like this.
‘I’ll get back home soon,’ she said, hoping she was speaking loudly enough to drown out the sound of plates being cleared away.
She would go to the hairdressers, pick up her trousers from the dry cleaners and get her nails done. She’d have to pass on the upper lip wax.
Yvonne interrupted. ‘No. Make it half an hour … you can’t be far. I’ll send a car to your house.’ The phone went dead.
Bella sat stunned for a moment, holding the phone in her hand. No manners. No ‘How are you? Hope you don’t mind me nicking all your ideas’. Just ‘you can’t be far. I’ll send a car’.
In all her time working for Flair 4 Living TV, dreaming of being a presenter, Bella had never imagined her dream would come true quite so suddenly.
Even as a lowly chopper-upper she had been in her element. Bella was always bounding about the studio, clearing up after second-rate presenters, inventing recipes or pitching one of her themed ideas for programmes. It was Bella who had suggested the Easter picnic hamper prize for guessing the weight of her special three-tiered crystal and rose wedding cake. This had got the viewing figures high for that week. It was Bella who had started the campaign for carnation petals in a savoury salad. That made its way into the Herald as ‘strangest meal of the week’. Bella was the ‘ideas girl’ and everyone knew it. Even Yvonne.
So the fact that she was calling her in to present the show could mean only one thing.
Yvonne must be desperate.
Chapter 4
Bella took a deep breath as she took in the familiar studio. She had cleaned and decorated this space for years. She’d seen it dressed in all manner of different guises for various programmes.
But today at the back of the set the words ‘Finger Food’ twinkled upwards in pink neon flashing lights. This time she was going to … she could barely allow herself to say the word … This time she was going to present a daytime show. Even if it was an experimental pilot, it was still her show. And if Yvonne wouldn’t let on that Finger Foodwas Bella’s idea she’d just have to put up with it. For now.
She looked again at the studio with the new set design. Two rows of stacked seating had been laid out at one end for the audience. The brightly lit square where the filming took place was defined by black and white squares of lino on the floor … There was brightly coloured kitchen equipment and a counter. She gave a little shudder of excitement.
Bella guessed that behind the counter would be the usual mess of props rubbish and scripts. She took a quick peek and found she was right. A few apple cores, some electric cable and loads of coconuts. She’d have to be careful not to get tangled up, especially as she might be under pressure. What a leap! From unemployed to under pressure in one hour!
There were three cameras in front of the set arranged to swivel in an instant to capture the audience looking enthralled and happy. If they looked bored or distracted the cameras could swivel swiftly away. She drove back the rising panic in her chest. This was hershow. She was going to make it work.
In front of the ‘kitchen’ area were two sofas in bright yellow-and-pink stripes with shiny cushions in clashing greens and reds.
Bella moved a few cushions and props before lining up the knives neatly and obsessively. She polished off a half empty crisp packet left on the counter to calm her nerves.
The journey to the studio had been rushed to say the least. She’d managed to collect her pinstripe trousers from the dry cleaners only to discover they’d been taken up too short and were also too tight. Her carrot-cake intake during the day had topped five large slices so it was no wonder really.
After hair and make up no one will notice, she reassured herself. Bella was looking forward to all the extras offered to presenters. If she was lucky there might even be time for her to ask wardrobe for something to be ironed, like she’d seen other presenters do. With a bit of make-up Bella felt sure she’d look the part.
There was a sudden clatter of high heels. One of the cameramen said, ‘Here comes sunshine,’ to Bella under his breath. Bella turned to see Yvonne charging down from the upstairs gallery.
She was wearing a black see-through blouse and black pencil skirt with clickety-click black shiny stilettos. Colour did not feature in Yvonne’s wardrobe. Even the bra was black. And as usual she was dressed in the kind of outfit which only pencil-thin people could get away with. She walked briskly up to Bella and blew air around Bella’s cheek as a greeting.
‘You’d better get changed then,’ said Yvonne, grabbing all the cushions that Bella had just moved. She replaced them, tutting loudly, and did the same with the knives. ‘We’re on in ten.’
‘What?’ Bella had been determined not to let Yvonne throw her, and here she was, floundering in the first ten seconds. She had nothing to change into. She was wearing her outfit!
‘What about make-up?’ Bella was horrified. Flair 4 Living TV never let a presenter on screen without make-up. Everyone knew a professionally applied lip line and gloss cheered up the grumpiest of guests.
Bella could see Louise the make-up girl hovering with her bag of tricks at the back of the set.
‘
What about Louise?’ she added, breathing out in relief. ‘She can do a five-minute fix.’
But Yvonne was too quick for Bella.
‘Sadly Louise has got to do all five presenters of Master Pet now, haven’t you, Louise?’
Louise looked surprised.
‘Haven’t you, Louise?’ Yvonne’s voice dropped dangerously. ‘Off you go.’
To Bella’s dismay Louise scuttled off.
‘Does Master Pet have five female presenters?’ She smiled at Yvonne brightly in disbelief. ‘I thought it was just dogs and that old vet?’
‘We’ve made a lot of changes at Flair since you left.’
‘Clearly,’ said Bella, forcing a smile. She decided being rude to Yvonne was too much of a risk.
‘So! A suit!’ Yvonne looked Bella up and down with distaste.
‘I know!’ said Bella. ‘I didn’t have time to correct the trousers or get my shoes …’
‘Oh yes. Your corrective shoes!’ Yvonne sneered. ‘You’ve got that rather weird thing going on with one your feet, haven’t you!’
‘Weird? Do you mean my extra toe?’ Bella kept her voice casual. This was typical of Yvonne. The toe was an unwanted genetic gift from her mother’s side of the family, but she’d ceased to let it bother her long ago. ‘I don’t need corrective shoes. Those are for people with bunions,’ she added, looking at Yvonne’s feet.
Yvonne managed a tight half smile and strode away.
‘So …’ Bella was determined to make the best of the situation. She rubbed her hands together and looked around at the sudden influx of crew scurrying around the set. Then she hitched down her trousers to release some caught flesh.
‘These will work, I think …’ she said to no one in particular. ‘A tad snug around the old la la, but that won’t show on television … it’s just head and shoulders … like the newsreaders … and they wear what they want to underneath, don’t they …? I mean you don’t want to know what Moira Stewart used to wear!’
Her favourite cameraman chuckled. A sound man darted forward and asked Bella if she’d mind him fixing a microphone on her. He then felt all over her chest saying ‘whoops!’ and ‘sorry!’ as he kept changing his mind about the best way to put his microphone into her blouse.
‘You smell nice,’ said Bella, because she knew it was good to get on with the crew.
‘Thanks. Just had some toast,’ he replied.
A girl hurried on to the studio floor with a clipboard. She was wearing a T-shirt with ‘Finger Food’ written on the front and ‘Flair 4 Living TV’ on the back. It was tucked into boyfriend-style jeans which were tucked into well-used Ugg boots. The girl was the same height as Bella but slimmer. Her hazel eyes appeared friendly, but her long hair was sticking out at strange angles from her ponytail, in which there was also a pencil. Bella wondered if the pencil was securing the ponytail or had just ended up there by accident. The girl was wearing an earpiece and mouth microphone that bent round her face. It gave her an official manner that the rest of her appearance didn’t match. She was too natural-looking and short to be another Yvonne.
She rushed up to Bella with a panicked look.
‘Hi hi hi!’
‘Hi,’ repeated Bella.
‘You must be …’ The girl checked her clipboard ‘Bella? Hi Hi.’ She gripped Bella’s hand firmly but looked distracted.
‘Hi, I’m Fiona?’ she said, making the introduction sound like a question. Bella decided she liked her. The girl reminded her of herself when she had just started working at Flair. Slightly overwhelmed but always excited to be here.
‘Are you?’ said Bella. She was bracing herself for the return of the sound man. He had warned her he might be back with some ‘gaffa’ tape, whatever that meant.
Fiona looked confused for a second and then decisive. ‘Yes, I am.’
Yvonne’s voice boomed out from the upstairs gallery. She couldn’t be seen but she could certainly be feared.
‘Fiona! Tony says he’s on his way. Biscuits?’
‘Biscuits?’ Fiona looked frozen with fear. ‘Biscuits,’ she repeated as though she hoped this might make them appear.
‘Yes, biscuits.’
Bella said, ‘I saw some Garibaldis on the sink, there. Will there be real water running from the taps, Yvonne, or are they pretend? Just so I know.’
‘Yes, there will be water,’ snapped Yvonne. Fiona retrieved the biscuits from the sink and was offering them to no one in particular.
‘Fiona! The audience are coming in! Do your stuff. You arethe floor manager.’
‘Sure yes. I am indeed. Can’t wait.’ She looked sick with nerves.
As Yvonne clicked her way down the stairs to get at the biscuits Bella moved towards Fiona and whispered, ‘She used to be thin and ugly, you know. With braces.’
Fiona’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘How do you know?’
Bella smiled. ‘I’ve known Yvonne since we were twelve.’
‘That long?’
‘We were in the Guides.’ Bella leaned in closer, relishing the chance to dispel Yvonne’s illusion of sophistication. We wore awful uniforms and got badges for lighting fires and knitting blankets. If you got loads you got made a patrol leader. I was made one, but Yvonne never even made second in command. Nobody liked her.’
Fiona stifled a laugh and looked after Yvonne’s angry retreating figure.
‘Don’t say anything but they still don’t,’ she whispered, adding, ‘Braces? Was she very ugly?’
‘Mostly. She never smiled. Even when they came off.’
‘No difference there, then.’ Fiona thought for a moment. ‘Is that why she doesn’t like you? Because you remember her from before? I heard her talking about you before you arrived.’
Bella felt herself flinch. ‘That’s part of the reason,’ she admitted, regretting having brought it up. The other detail of their shared past was a little more delicate. At Guide camp, Yvonne and Bella had both fallen for the same boy, Ian Smith, in the Scout group. He had been attracted to Yvonne at one point (the day her braces came off, in fact) but ended up going out with Bella. And despite Yvonne’s best efforts at sabotage (a dirty-tricks campaign so nasty that Bella could hardly bear to recall it) Bella had enjoyed the happiest summer of her life with Ian. That was, until teenage pregnancy had interrupted matters and the happy couple had been broken up by her mother, and Ian’s family moved away.
Despite the tragic ending Yvonne had never forgiven her. Bella could only conclude that this was why she took such delight in giving her the job in the first place. So she could get back at her while making her somehow dependent. She particularly loved showing off her ‘special’ relationship with Tony who was the boss of Flair 4 Living TV. But, to Yvonne’s annoyance, Bella had always preferred to throw herself happily into her work rather than compete for Tony’s attentions, whether this was by chopping vegetables or coming up with strange new ideas for programmes to increase the viewing figures.
Annoyingly for Yvonne, these ideas were sometimes not only good, they were also liked by Tony. Which was why Yvonne made sure Bella was never near Tony when he popped in to the studio.
Fiona looked as if she was going to ask something else but then decided not to, instead sharing a secret of her own. She smiled shyly. ‘I’m a bit distracted today. I’m in love.’
Taking Bella’s silence as a sign of interest, she launched into a high-speed explanation.
‘Yeah and he’s called Zee Zee. He’s from Morocco where it’s quite sunny with lots of nice cushions and carpets … I love his passion and his politics … and his cute ponytail … and … and his customs, like when he gets angry he does what his family does and he throws a shoe at people because that’s like the biggest insult over there.’
Bella nodded faintly. Fiona was captivated by her own thoughts of Zee Zee and wouldn’t be stopped. Bella was equally captivated by the prospect of presenting a TV show.
‘Yeah, like, if you call someone a “shoe” you could be arrested, he said
, because it’s really rude … and showing the sole of your shoe is like … well, it’s considered unclean. Mine are always unclean obviously but that’s only because I have to walk across the common with all the doggie doo-doos,’ continued Fiona raising her foot in demonstration. ‘But anyway he threw a shoe at me once. I knew it was my fault because we talked about it afterwards … and he told me it was … so it must have been! And he only threw a slipper. And it missed. Just got the goldfish … who’s quite old, so couldn’t see it coming …’ She tailed off with a blissful expression. ‘So … you know … if you see me texting you’ll understand!’ she concluded, waving her mobile phone.
‘I do.’ Bella’s heart sank. She was about to present a programme but she hadn’t even seen a script. The audience were coming in, Yvonne still hated her, Tony the boss was coming … And now the floor manager who she had to rely on for everything was so lovesick she didn’t know if she was coming or going.
Bella felt like screaming. Instead she gripped her fists. She must draw on her experiences of watching all the other bad presenters she’d chopped onions for. After years of watching them she knew how to speak, slice and smile at the same time, only better. It was her big chance to prove herself and she wouldn’t let it slip away.
Chapter 5
‘OK.’ Bella pulled herself together. ‘First things first. Can I have the script?’
‘Script?’
‘The script. Of how the show will run. The running order.’
Fiona looked at her blankly.
‘The order of the items? Who comes on, and when, and what I say and which props I’ll need for each item.’
‘Ah. Yes, I saw one of those.’
‘Great. May I have one?’
‘But it might not have been for this show.’ Fiona saw Bella’s look of panic. ‘I could ask around?’
Bella had another thought. ‘Where’s the autocue? I can go through that while you find me the right script.’
‘Oh, autocue. Yes. The lady phoned. She’s not in today.’
‘Right,’ Bella was speaking slowly and carefully, ‘so I have no script, no autocue. How am I supposed to know what I am presenting?’
Finger Food Page 2