How to Get Ahead in Television (24 page)

‘Shall we order?' sighed my mother.

There was always the implication from my mother that Aunt Josephine was a failure because she didn't have any form of financial security or retirement plan. But whenever we spent time with her, I always came away thinking what a luminously happy person Aunt Josephine was. Surely that had to count for something? Maybe it had more to do with her personality than her art or her life choices. Still, maybe if I could channel a bit of my inner Aunt Josephine, I would fare better.

‘Oh, before I forget, I have a little present for you, Poppy,' said Mum as our drinks arrived.

‘It's
your
birthday, Mum, you shouldn't be getting me anything,' I said.

‘Hey, why does she get a present and I don't?' whined Clemmie.

‘Well, it's just a little something, a sort of “moving to London” present,' said Mum, handing me a small box.

I was touched. Buying me a present for getting a job in London meant that, subconsciously at least, my mother was proud of me. I opened the package to find a rather strange-looking bracelet inside.

‘Oh, jewellery,' said Clemmie, peering over my shoulder. ‘You never buy us jewellery.'

‘It's a rape bracelet,' said Mum.

‘A what?' I said.

‘Well, it's a bracelet that's also a rape alarm.' Mum reached over to show me. ‘If you yank it apart like this, the alarm goes off. You know London is a dangerous place, especially with you living all the way out in the depths of zone six.'

‘Zone two,' I corrected her.

‘Well, you can't be too careful. I saw them on
Dragon's Den
. Aren't they clever?'

‘Well, thanks, I guess,' I said.

‘The woman who invented them said that a lot of women have rape alarms, but they're always hidden in their bag somewhere. You know, by the time you've been mugged and thrown up against a wall, you're not going to be able to get into the depths of your bag, are you?'

‘Mum, that's a bit graphic.' Clem grimaced, wrinkling up her nose.

‘Well, I thought it was a very good invention. Go on, put it on, Poppy.'

I put it on under duress. This was a typical present from my mother: well-meaning, but cloaked in a depressingly pessimistic outlook on life. The implication being: you live in a bad area in a bad city, and you'll probably get raped and murdered because of your bad life choices.

‘I think it's actually quite a nice bracelet, very chunky and modern,' said Clem. ‘It's also a bold statement on the reclamation of our gender from misogynist ornamentation and decoration purely for decoration's sake.' (Clem was currently doing a module at university called ‘The Feminist ID and the Misogynist Within.') ‘I think I'd like one too.'

‘You're not going to get raped in Cardiff, Clementine.'

‘Rape can happen anywhere, Mum, don't be so old-fashioned. You could get raped in Dorset; you could get raped in this restaurant.'

‘Can we stop talking about rape?' said Dad, who had gone quite pale.

‘Sorry, but it's a fact of life,' said Mum. ‘They're called “Rapelets” if you want one, Clementine. I'll stock up. You can give them to all your friends for Christmas.'

‘Can we eat? I'm ravenous,' I said.

‘Let's make a toast first,' said Aunt Josephine, holding up her glass. ‘To my sister. May this year bring enlightenment, joy and peace to her heart.'

‘I am perfectly enlightened enough, thank you very much,' my mother objected, but we toasted to it anyway.

STEP 40 – IT'S TOUGH TO GET YOUR FIRST FORMAT COMMISSIONED, DON'T EXPECT TO RUN BEFORE YOU CAN WALK

TO
: POPPY

FROM
: BRAD

Tabitha, how is the Congo? Thought I'd send u some pictures to keep u warm at night… ; )

ATTACHED
: *EXPLICIT MATERIAL*

TO
: NATALIE

FROM
: POPPY

SEE ATTACHMENT!!! AMERICAN GUY FROM BAR IS SENDING ME PICTURES OF HIS ANATOMY THAT I DO NOT WANT TO SEE! NOT FUNNY.

TO
: POPPY

FROM
: NATALIE

Nice…

R
EALI
TV
HAD A
monthly meeting for all employees. Those out on production were excused, but for everyone else it was an opportunity to eat free Danish pastries and hear from
CEO Jack Chamberlain what a wonderful job they were all doing.

Rhidian was back in the office for the afternoon, so we were both sent to lay the boardroom for teas and coffees. I was pleased to see him; the post room always felt rather empty without him around.

‘So how are you finding Les and Kel?' I asked.

‘Wow, she is really something, isn't she?' Rhidian laughed. ‘Beautiful but deadly.'

‘You think she's beautiful?'

It was a stupid question; obviously she was beautiful, but for some reason I'd hoped Rhidian's tastes were less obvious.

‘On the outside, but I think she has a black soul,' said Rhidian, catching my eye. ‘You know, Poppy, I wasn't going to say anything…' He paused, putting down the teapot that was in his hand. He suddenly looked unsure of himself. ‘I know it's not my place to say, but…'

‘But?'

‘JR isn't good enough for you.'

Rhidian reached out to touch my hand, so I put down the coffee cup I was holding.

‘Look, I know he's successful and good-looking and I'm sure he's great company, but, well, I'm sorry but I think he's a bit of a prick. You know he's still seeing Kel O'Shaunessy? I saw them kissing in her dressing room. He doesn't deserve someone like you.' Rhidian looked embarrassed. ‘There, I've said it.'

I looked up at him. Rhidian chewed his lip nervously, his whole face aglow with anticipation. We stood looking at each other for a moment and it suddenly hit me: this was the man I'd been wanting to kiss. This gorgeous, funny, kind man was the one I'd been thinking about in JR's flat. This sledgehammer realization threw me, and I suddenly felt unsteady on my feet. When had this happened? When had Rhidian – my competition, the one who was so irritatingly good at everything, who would no doubt win this job and leave me jobless – when
had he crept into my head like this? And here he was, worrying about JR! I hadn't given JR a moment's thought all week.

‘Rhidian, I…' I reached out for his arm to steady myself, but before I could formulate what I wanted to say, people started coming into the boardroom and I didn't have a chance to.

We rushed around offering people drinks, Rhidian studiously avoiding making eye contact with me. Eventually the milling pool calmed and people started to take their seats. A few bold stragglers lurked by the Danish pastry table as the CEO made his entrance.

Jack Chamberlain was quite short, with neatly trimmed grey hair and impeccably tailored suits (he was the only person in TV I'd seen wear a suit). Apparently he was one of the richest men in the industry, and counted among his friends Rupert Murdoch, the Prince of Wales and most of the dragons from
Dragon's Den
.

‘Good morning, everyone,' he said to the room. ‘We've all got places to be so I'll keep this catch-up snappy. Firstly, congratulations to
Can Your Dog Do Your Job?
on being re-commissioned for a ninth series.'

Everyone clapped, and the series producer, Viv, nodded in acknowledgement.

‘Also, we have to congratulate Jordan for getting
Who Wants to Marry a Serial Killer?
commissioned in the USA. It really is one of the most groundbreaking, controversial formats we've ever been involved in, and kudos to the channel for letting us continue to push boundaries. Huge congratulations to the
Last Clan Standing
team; the first few episodes all won their slot in terms of ratings, and we're in talks with the channel about doing an international version set in Iceland.'

More applause.

‘And our biggest news,' Jack went on, ‘is two brand-new commissions, both masterminded by the brilliant James Ravenstone. One, a big-budget quiz show for ITV called
Banker's Bonus
, and the other an animation collaboration,
Tipsy and Tim
, which we'll be co-producing with InkBlot Media.'

My heart started pounding in my chest, and I scanned the room for JR. Had my show been commissioned? Why hadn't he said something? Why had Rhidian's idea been mentioned? A small ball of panic formed in my gut, swirling around, gradually gaining momentum.

‘James is truly a colossus when it comes to development,' Jack went on, ‘and as such, I'd like to announce his promotion to Head of Development here at RealiTV.'

Looking around for JR, my gaze landed on Rhidian. He was glaring at me with a mixture of anger and disappointment. Oh god, he must think I stole his idea – that I talked to JR about it. Shit, I
did
talk to JR about it…

JR walked up to shake Jack Chamberlain's hand and everyone clapped. I turned to see Rhidian leaving the room and dashed after him.

‘What the hell, Poppy?' he snarled as I caught up with him in reception.

‘I… I didn't… He took my idea too…' I trailed off.

‘Why were you even talking to him about my idea? I told you that in confidence, Poppy. I told you I hadn't talked to anyone else about it, it's a really personal project for me, and then what, you talk to your boyfriend about it over pillow talk?'

‘No, no, it wasn't like that,' I said, trying to reach out and touch his arm, but he shrugged me away.

‘So what, you didn't tell him about it? It's just a coincidence, is it?'

Rhidian looked so wounded by my betrayal, the ball of anxiety swirling in my gut swelled into my throat so I could hardly speak.

‘No, well, I… I might have mentioned it in passing, but only to say that you had this great idea!'

‘You had no right to talk to anyone about it.'

‘Look, he probably just stole the title, I didn't even tell him
much about your idea, he must have just—' But Rhidian cut me off.

‘I don't want to talk to you about it, Poppy. You two deserve each other, you know that? I had you down as this… I really thought… But maybe Mel was right – ultimately you're just out for yourself, just out to win.'

With that, he turned and left.

What had Mel been saying about me? What did he have me down as? Oh god, this was bad, this was really bad.

After the meeting I waited for JR.

‘I need to talk to you,' I hissed.

He was talking to Shannon Long, who was congratulating him on his promotion. I expected him to look guilty, to be embarrassed by what he had done, but he just rolled his eyes at me.

‘Give me a minute, Shannon,' he said, taking me over to a corner of the room. ‘Look, Poppy, you have to stop this. Nothing is happening between us, okay? You have to stop this teenage—'

‘What?' I spat through gritted teeth. ‘You stole my idea, and you stole Rhidian's!'

JR looked at me as though this was entirely new information. He looked around to see if anyone else was in earshot, then took my elbow and escorted me through to the empty production office beyond.

‘What are you talking about, Poppy?'

‘
Banker's Bonus
?
Tipsy and Tim
? They don't sound at all familiar?' I cried.

‘Poppy, do you know how many ideas I have in development at any one time?' JR shook his head. ‘I had a total of four quiz shows all based around the concept of winning differing sums of money in development last year. Your title might have influenced about two per cent of the concept. I was trying to help you, allow you to see the creative process.
What would you have me do – put your name on the credits just for inputting a fraction of the title?'

‘Well, I… How do I know it's just a fraction?'

‘Poppy, do you really think a twenty-two-year-old, who's been working in TV for precisely three minutes, is going to be able to write a pitch that gets commissioned by ITV?' JR laughed. ‘I was trying to mentor you, get you enthusiastic about your first format. Your idea wasn't actually anything close to pitchable.' JR pinched his forehead in frustration. ‘It is literally like getting a child to write “The cat wore a hat” and then the child shrieking, “Hey, I wrote Dr Seuss!” This is absolutely the last time I try to help someone.'

I felt totally thrown.

‘But… but what about
Tipsy and Tim
? That's just a coincidence, is it? That that was the title of Rhidian's idea?'

‘Poppy, do you know how long I've been working on this animation project?' JR laughed again. ‘You really have no idea, do you? It's been two years in development. I'll admit you gave me the idea for the title, which was an improvement on the one I had before, but I don't think you said more than two words about it.' JR sighed. ‘Look, I'll write your boyfriend a cheque for those two words I've plagarized and he can still call his little drawing project whatever he likes.'

I wanted to grab JR by his smug throat. Fury welled up inside me.

‘He's not my boyfriend,' I blurted, though this was the least relevant point to be taking objection to.

‘Well, I think he wants to be. I've seen the way he follows you around like a lost dog. Maybe he'll be the Mr Romantic you've been looking for, Dangermouse?'

JR tried to touch my arm affectionately, apparently to diffuse my anger and lighten the mood.

‘Don't touch me.'

‘Look, ideas come from everywhere, Poppy, they don't just jump onto the screen fully formed. That's the skill – pulling in a hundred strands and turning them into something workable.
You contributed a strand, well done, that's more than most people do. Hey, maybe I'll give you a job on the show… if you stop looking like you want to scratch my eyes out. You can be a good little worker when you're not having a teenage tantrum.'

I glared at him, speechless.

‘What about it, Dangermouse?' JR said, smiling. ‘I'm starting production next month, I'll give you a researcher job as a peace offering. Four months' work, then it doesn't even matter if you win this runner's placement or not.'

‘Screw you, JR, and screw your job,' I said.

I turned around, meaning to stalk off, head held high, but instead I walked full pelt into a table full of empty coffee cups, half a dozen of which went flying into the air and shattered all over the floor.

‘Ow.' I gritted my teeth. That really hurt.

Everyone in the next room turned to look at me and I made a half-hearted wave to explain that I was okay. I crouched down to start picking up the shattered pieces.