How to Get Ahead in Television (8 page)

It was then that I saw what was happening further down the line. Keith had picked up one of the hedgehogs and was playing with it in his lap.

‘Keith!' I hissed, but he wouldn't look at me.

I was about to rush onto set to retrieve the hedgehog, when I realized I was too late: a contestant's hands were already through the curtain, feeling the hedgehog that was left. I couldn't get past without getting in the way.

‘He can't touch the animals,' growled Trevor, who'd also noticed what was going on.

‘I know, I know,' I whispered back.

At this point, Leon arrived.

‘Sorry I'm late. Nightmare up on Loch Mess,' he whispered to me. ‘Everything okay here?'

‘No!' I hissed, pointing at Keith, who was now kissing the poor hedgehog and whispering, ‘Lovely little spiker.'

‘Fuck,' said Leon. ‘Get it off him.'

‘Me?' I hissed.

‘You know him, he's more likely to listen to you.'

I was very dubious about this plan, but did as I was told, scooting across the set just as the curtain closed on the lone hedgehog.

‘And for our final kilt, let's have a feel, what's behind this one?' said Valerie.

Hands appeared through the curtain, looking for something to feel, but Keith had moved his feet from the stool and was holding out the hedgehog instead. I grappled with his hands, trying to take it from him, spiking myself in the process.

‘Ow!' I yelped.

‘I can't feel anything?' said the contestant.

Keith pushed me away, onto the stool, and I felt hands touching my back.

‘Ooh, we've got something,' said the contestant. ‘I think it's human.'

I jumped up just as a giggling Keith pulled his trousers down and lunged his groin towards the contestant's outstretched hand.

‘No!' I said firmly (the way you're supposed to talk to a dog that's jumping up).

‘What's going on back there?' came Shannon's voice on talkback. ‘Who's talking?'

‘Do not open the curtain, I repeat, do not open the curtain,' Leon whispered urgently into his radio.

‘Any guesses?' asked Valerie.

Keith had the hedgehog in both hands now. The contestant had one hand on the hedgehog and one on Keith's right testicle.

‘Very strange!' pondered the contestant. ‘Sort of a bit fleshy and warm, but on the other hand spiky…'

Trevor decided enough was enough and launched in to retrieve his performer.

‘Stop that!' Trevor roared, grabbing a now half-naked Keith by the collar.

Keith threw the hedgehog in the air and I let out a squeal of concern for the poor creature.

Everything that came next happened in a bit of a blur.

Trevor punched Keith and then caught the airborne hedgehog in an expert rugby catch. Keith lunged into me and pushed me into the set; the giant kilted legs came crashing down, taking Valerie and the contestants down with them. Everything went very quiet and I looked up to see Trevor cradling his precious hedgehog and a naked-from-the-waist-down Keith straddling Valerie Decouz.

‘All right, treacle,' he chuckled as he realized where he had landed.

Valerie screamed, voices from the gallery erupted in my ear, and I felt Leon's hands pulling me out of the carnage.

Safe to say, my very first television item had not gone very well.

STEP 16 – BE NICE TO THE PEOPLE BELOW YOU, THEY MIGHT BE ABOVE YOU ONE DAY

FROM
: RHIDIAN

TO
: POPPY

‘I
WISH
I had seen it,' Helen laughed. ‘It sounds 'ilarious.'

‘Well, it wasn't at the time, trust me,' I said.

Helen, David and I were sitting in the post room having an early morning coffee and biscuits. Helen was attempting to disinfect her latest upper ear piercing with a cotton bud, which was putting me off my Jammie Dodger.

‘Well, I don't think it was your fault,' said David, flicking through a
Total Film
magazine. ‘Everyone knows Keith Ray is a notorious reprobate. They shouldn't have booked him on a family show.'

‘So Valerie Decouz actually saw 'is cock?' Helen was in fits of giggles now. ‘What did she do?'

‘Well, she kind of flapped at it, like it was a snake trying to attack her,' I laughed.

‘Rhidian is going to be so annoyed 'e missed that,' said Helen, throwing a cotton bud at the bin and missing.

‘Where is Rhidian anyway?' I asked.

‘He's been sent to work on
Can Your Dog Do Your Job?
for a few days. We haven't seen him since he got back,' said David.

Just as I thought Helen had composed herself, she started laughing again at the thought of the Valerie and Keith kilt sandwich. Her laughter was infectious, so we were both giggling as JR walked into the post room. He'd trimmed his stubble slightly to reveal a sharp, well-defined jaw line, and his thick dark hair looked perfectly tousled.

‘Something amusing?' he asked.

‘Just hearing about your brilliant Scottish show.' Helen grinned.

I blushed. I didn't want JR to think I'd been laughing about it: he was probably furious about the whole thing.

‘Penfold, a word please,' said JR, beckoning me with a stern finger.

I silently followed JR into the meeting room, annoyed with Helen for getting me into trouble. I hadn't seen JR since Scotland, and suddenly realized how self-conscious I felt in his presence. Alan and Rhidian's comments about my overly gushing praise for him popped into my head as I quickly wiped a finger beneath each eye to check my mascara hadn't smudged.

JR shut the door and sat down on one of the meeting-room sofas.

‘Have fun in Scotland, did you, Penfold?'

‘Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh about it. Helen just—'

‘It's okay, Penfold. I was there. I saw it. You don't need to explain how funny it was to me.'

‘I'm so sorry if I messed up your show.'

‘God, it wasn't your fault. You tried to tackle a naked Keith Ray to save the item; you were bloody heroic, Penfold. Leon
was responsible – he should never have let Ray go on in that state.'

‘Well, I was supposed to look after him,' I muttered, reluctant to let all the blame be placed at Leon's feet.

‘Poppy, you're a runner, you shouldn't have been left in charge of a maniac like Keith Ray. Honestly, I was impressed with your efforts up there, Dangermouse.'

I glowed with pride. I wasn't sure I agreed with him, but the fact that JR thought I'd done a good job was enough to leave me grinning like an idiot.

‘Shannon was out of her depth up there. If you ask me, they promote people too quickly around here; it leads to mistakes getting made.'

JR paced the room and I felt as though he was talking to himself rather than to me. Catching himself, he turned to me with a smile.

‘Hey, I should probably be nice to you, Penfold – you'll probably be a channel commissioner in six months!'

He brushed against my arm as he took a seat next to me. The hairs on my arm tingled to attention, hyper-aware of his accidental touch.

‘Which is why, Penfold, I want you to come and help me on
What Do They Know?
I need an extra pair of hands and I've asked Dominic if it can be you. You were funny in that run-through.'

‘Wow, thanks.'

‘I've got a feeling you're going places, Penfold,' he said, holding my gaze that bit too long.

‘Well, I don't know…'

‘So I'll tell Dom you're working for me for a few weeks? He wanted to send you back to Scotland but I doubt you're particularly keen on that idea?'

‘No, no, I'd rather work with you,' I said.

Did that sound ridiculously eager? I wondered if JR could hear my heart pounding in my chest.

‘Great,' he said, putting a hand on my shoulder as he left.
‘Just make sure you swat up on your general knowledge, Dangermouse.'

Back in the post room, I couldn't hide my excitement.

‘JR wants me to work on his pilot! Isn't that great?'

David and Helen exchanged glances.

‘What?' I asked.

‘Nothing,' said Helen, shaking her head.

‘Oh yeah, “nothing”,' said David scornfully. ‘That's like saying
Mulholland Drive
is a really one-dimensional film, pah!'

‘What? What is it?'

‘Look, it's probably not that.' Helen shot a look at David.

‘He's got a reputation,' said David.

‘A reputation for what?'

‘I wouldn't go that far,' said Helen, running her hands through her short brown hair. ‘Just a couple o'… Well, 'e's been known to like young blonde runners.'

‘Fancies himself as a bit of a lothario, does JR,' added David. ‘RealiTV's resident Casanova.'

‘'Ardly,' said Helen, grimacing. ‘Honestly, I don't know why folk fancy 'im.'

I was about to defend JR, to say he was actually quite charming, funny and undeniably attractive – but given what we were talking about, I thought better of it and stayed silent.

David and Helen thought they were telling me bad news, but I couldn't help but feel excited by the fact that JR might be interested in me in more than just a work capacity. I had to admit that maybe I wasn't
just
impressed by his abilities as a producer; I was impressed by him. I liked the way his dark, deep-set eyes seared into me whenever they settled upon me… I liked the fact that he was a proper grown-up man with proper grown-up stubble… And I liked the fact that he called me Dangermouse…

‘Poppy?' Helen said.

‘Huh?'

‘Are you okay? You've got a funny look on your face.'

I quickly tried to stop my face from giving me away by knitting my eyebrows together in a frown and biting my bottom lip in a textbook ‘worried and concerned' expression.

‘Look, don't worry about JR, you'll be fine,' said Helen. ‘It was a long time ago, 'n' it's only a rumour.'

‘Just don't stay late with him on your own,' warned David.

I made a mental note to definitely try and stay late with him on my own.

STEP 17 – CONGRATULATE YOUR COLLEAGUES WHEN THEY DO A GOOD JOB

TO
: <
[email protected]
>

FROM
: <
[email protected]
>

SUBJECT
: Car

ATTACHMENTS
: Wing mirror pic

Poppy,

Can you come and explain to me two things. One – the attached picture of the hire car wing mirror. Hertz claim it was brand new. Two – I have a letter, fine and picture showing you stopping the hire car on a double-red line…

Not good.

D

R
HIDIAN'S LITTLE CHART
of success and failure had started out as a scrawl on a Post-it note, which he had taken a photo of and sent to me. Now the chart had taken on a rather more professional form: a typed-up A4 sheet pinned to the post room noticeboard. I would have taken it down, but yesterday Dominic had Blu-tacked the picture of my wing mirror smash onto the ‘Poppy' column and I didn't think I could interfere with it now it had been usurped by higher powers.

‘It's not funny,' I said to Helen. ‘It's mean.'

‘Aw, come on, it's just a bit o' fun,' said Helen, looking into a compact and applying heavy black kohl beneath each of her eyes.

‘I don't mind among us, you know, but now it's actually up there on the wall, anyone who comes in is going to see it and ask “oooh, what's hedgehog-gate?”, and then the whole company knows about every disastrous moment of my pitiful career so far.'

‘Everyone in t' company already knows about 'edgehog-gate, 'n' actually,' Helen picked up a black marker pen, ‘I'm gonna change that to a plus one. JR said you were a hero up there, trying to save the day by divin' on top o' Keith Ray.'

My irritation with the chart was slightly allayed by the news that JR had been telling people I was a hero. Perhaps in a few days I could just allow the wing mirror picture to ‘fall off' and then I could slowly phase out people's interest in the chart.

‘Rhidian's just so bloody competitive, it's not even funny. He obviously thinks he has something to prove,' I said.

‘I don't know if he does,' said David, coming in with a plate of Bourbon biscuits he'd scrounged from the meeting room. ‘Did you hear what he did on
Can Your Dog Do Your Job?
yesterday?'

‘No, what?' I asked.

‘She don't need to 'ear 'bout every little thing Rhidian does,' Helen said, giving David ‘don't tell her' eyes, which only served to make me more curious.

‘What did he do?'

‘He only went and saved the show,' said David, ignoring Helen.

‘That's a bit o' an exaggeration,' said Helen.

‘What happened?' I asked again, taking a biscuit from David's plate.

‘Well, they were doing an episode about fishing, seeing if this Dachshund had what it took to be a fisherman—'

‘What kinda fisherman?' asked Helen. ‘I think “fisherman”
is more a hobby than a job, unless it's like in trawler boat at sea or somethin'?'

‘I don't know.' David looked annoyed at having his story interrupted. ‘It's a stupid show. I think the dog had to learn how to do all kinds of fishing. Anyway, they were shooting on this riverbank in Wiltshire, learning about carp or something, when the dog suddenly decides to jump into the water. There's actually quite a strong current, and he gets swept downstream into a bunch of swans. The swans go mental and the dog's owner is screaming, and the production team all just stand there not knowing what to do. Then, out of nowhere, Rhidian leaps into the river, single-handedly wrestles these swans out the way, and rescues the dachshund. It was like a scene out of
Indiana Jones
or something.'

‘I don't think anything remotely similar to that happens in
Indiana Jones
,' I said.

‘'Ave you seen it?' Helen asked David.

‘Yeah, the whole thing was caught on tape. Everyone upstairs is calling Rhidian “The Dog Rescuer”.'

‘Well, that's not very inventive. Obi-Swan Kenobi, surely?' I said. ‘Or Indiana Bones if you're wedded to that comparison.'

Helen and David laughed, but the pleasure I derived from puns could not outweigh the crushing news that Rhidian was a hero – again. Who were RealiTV going to employ at the end of our placement: The Motorway Muppet or The Dog Rescuer?

‘Anyway, 'ow's it all goin' up on JR's show? That's great 'e asked you to work on it,' Helen asked, tactfully changing the subject.

David was writing
Obi-Swan Kenobi + 1
on Rhidian's chart.

‘Hey, that's my joke,' I said grumpily. ‘And since when has every man and his dog started adding to that bloody chart?'

‘Poppy?' said Helen. ‘So JR's show?'

‘Um, yes, it's good,' I said, trying to ignore David and listen to Helen. ‘I've stayed in every night this week watching
Newsnight
on iPlayer so I don't embarrass myself with my pitiful general knowledge again. Have you seen what's happening in Syria? It's awful.'

Just as I was about to expand on my newfound political opinions, with a swoosh of platinum-blonde hair, Mel from reception put her head round the door.

‘Can one of you cover reception for me at six? I want to leave early.'

‘Goin' on another date wi' Rhidian, are we?' asked Helen.

‘None of your business,' said Mel, looking incredibly pleased with herself.

‘Well, do yer want us to cover reception or not?'

‘We're having drinks. Whatever, no biggie.' Mel pouted. Then she noticed David's addition to the chart on the wall. ‘Obi-Swan Kenobi. Very good. Rhids will like that.'

I suddenly felt a slight queasiness in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't that I cared if Rhidian was seeing someone – I couldn't have cared less – but Mel? She was such a bitch. It made me think less of him that she would be his type. I mean, even that annoying make-up girl was preferable to stuck-up Mel.

Also, THAT WAS MY JOKE.

Mel swanned off back to reception. I finished the dregs of my overly oiled salad and gathered my things, ready to head back upstairs. JR was away today so the
What Do They Know?
team was pretty quiet. I was hoping I could leave work early tonight as I had finally got around to arranging drinks with Ian. I felt bad about being so slow in getting back to him, plus if I met up with him, it would get my mother off my back for at least a week or so. I could report that we'd discussed it at length and Ian had concluded I didn't have the right qualifications for banking.

As I was about to leave the post room, Rhidian appeared.

‘Hi,' he said.

‘If it isn't Obi-Swan Kenobi himself,' said David, looking at me pointedly to see if I would challenge such purposeful plagiarism.

‘Oh guys, seriously, this whole thing has been blown way out of proportion, I wish people would stop talking about it,' Rhidian said, pushing up the sleeves of his blue shirt to fetch post down from a pigeonhole. I noticed how dexterous his large, masculine hands were at flicking through the thick pile of letters.

‘Hardly,' said David. ‘I've seen the tape: it was like Mr Darcy emerging from the lake, but instead of just looking all wet and gorgeous, he was saving a dog and wrestling a swan.'

Everyone stopped to look at David. He looked momentarily embarrassed at having been a little too descriptive.

‘Anyway…' said Rhidian, breaking the awkward silence, ‘Poppy, I haven't seen you since Scotland. You got back okay on the train?'

‘Yes. I managed to do something without you, unbelievable as it may sound,' I said with a smile.

‘Well, well done you,' Rhidian said, stooping down to my eye level and patting me on the head like a dog.

‘Ha ha, very funny,' I said.

‘No, but seriously, I hear JR asked for you to work on
What Do They Know?
That's great news.'

‘Yeah, she's been in every night spodding up on 'er general knowledge,' said Helen.

‘Well, look, we should go for drinks to celebrate. You never go out, Poppy,' said Rhidian, turning back to look at me.

‘I do go out,' I said.

‘Um, no you don't,' said Helen. ‘Come on, you've moved up t' London, you should be out ont' town seein' your friends, datin', dancin', drinkin' cocktails, 'aving a glorious, glamorous time.' Helen was putting on a mock-girly voice.

I knew for a fact she didn't do any of the above, and spent most of her free time playing on the Xbox with her boyfriend Randy, a supermarket designer from Texas.

Rhidian was looking at me intently, waiting for a response. This was probably another thing he thought he was winning at, with his compulsion to find competition in absolutely everything.

‘Actually, I have a date tonight,' I found myself saying.

I caught Rhidian's eye and there was a momentary flicker of something between us. Did he know I was lying?

‘Really? Who with?' he asked.

‘Just this guy Ian I've been seeing,' I said breezily, making to leave.

‘Woah! You can't leave now,' said Helen. ‘You 'aven't told us this! Who's Ian?'

‘Oh, just this guy who works in the City, not a media type. You wouldn't know him. Anyway, bye.'

Ha, that will teach him, I thought as I sauntered out of the post room. How dare he assume I never go out or go on any dates? Anyway, when exactly would I have had time to go on any dates? When I wasn't driving battle-axes up to Scotland or dive-bombing drunk celebrities, I'd been rather preoccupied, studiously swatting up on my general knowledge so that I could actually do a good job on a production for once. (Okay, so there was a bit of
Girls
and
30 Rock
watching in between
Newsnight
, but still…) Besides, just because Rhidian was dating every floopy airhead out there, it didn't mean I should be berated for being that bit more discerning.

Maybe I should try and go on some actual dates. Helen was right: I was twenty-two and single in one of the most exciting cities in the world. I shouldn't be spending my evenings watching boxsets and old romantic films in the basement of my friend's parents' house. This new crush I'd developed on JR probably wasn't helpful (considering he was my boss and ten years older than me) and I didn't seem to be able to escape hearing about Rhidian's blooming love life at every turn. I needed to get out more.