Rivals (76 page)

‘Well done,’ said Rupert. But once again the Professor and the Bishop exchanged pained glances.

After that Harold White and Cameron were both excellent on programme plans, Georgie was brilliant on advertising, and Seb marvellously bitchy about the newsroom and ‘Cotswold Round-Up’. But at the end Hardy Bissett was just as scathing.

‘Look at you,’ he said mockingly, ‘cringing on the back of your seats trying to make yourself invisible to an examiner who might ask you the awkward question. You’ve got to sit forward, be eager and positive, bursting with enthusiasm.’

‘Gimme a drink, then,’ murmured Billy.

‘But it was better than last time,’ went on Hardy. ‘You’ve got just over a month to get your act together, and if we keep going over the same ground night after night -’ Billy and Rupert exchanged looks of horror; Freddie glanced at his watch – ‘you’re bound to improve. It’s obvious our moles won’t be able to make every evening. But I’m glad to say most of them, not all -’ Hardy glared pointedly at Billy -‘acquitted themselves well and are obviously less in need of coaching than the rest of you. I congratulate you, Declan, on your poaching skills. Just don’t get rumbled, any of you, between now and December.’

When they’d all got drinks, Declan gave them a brief progress report. ‘You needn’t be too disheartened by our abysmal showing today. Elsewhere things are looking good. The most dramatic bit of news is that Mid-West have pulled out. They can’t raise the cash evidently, so their Geography master will probably never get to London now.’ He grinned. ‘This means it’s a two-horse race – just us and Corinium.’

Everyone was wildly excited by this information, except Rupert. Two two the rivals now, he thought bitterly. Why did everything remind him of Taggie?

‘I’ve also heard off the record that the IBA have had at least three thousand letters from local organizations pledging their support for Venturer,’ Declan went on. ‘Tony was also supposed to appear on a programme on Radio Cotchester this week, with me and the West of England man from the IBA, but he’s backed off because he claims a programme interspersed with pop records is not the right vehicle for serious discussion, i.e., he’s got cold feet.

‘The story’s been leaked to tomorrow’s papers. Finally Ladbroke’s make us five to four on today, so we’re on our way.’

‘So am I,’ said Freddie, going towards the door.

Rupert followed him. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To a meetin’,’ said Freddie, looking shifty.

‘With Mrs Vereker?’ said Rupert. ‘For Christ’s sake be careful. Sarah Stratton rolled up at my house in hysterics the other day, saying James had been told to back off and concentrate on Lizzie, as they’re going to make this marriage series together.’

‘I know,’ said Freddie. ‘Makes fings very difficult. That’s why Lizzie and me’s meeting up here.’

‘It’s a bloody good story,’ said Rupert. ‘Corinium presenter ordered to give up his presenter mistress and concentrate on his wife in order to win franchise. The
Scorpion
would adore it.’

‘No!’ said Freddie, appalled. ‘It’d hurt Lizzie, and hurt her kids to have their father’s name plastered all over the papers.’

‘Frederick, dear,’ said Rupert patiently, ‘it’s a good story, I said. It’ll discredit Corinium and make a complete mockery of the marriage programme if everyone knows it’s a sham. D’you want to win this franchise or not?’

Freddie shook his head stubbornly. ‘Not if it ’urts Lizzie. Anyway, you’re barking up the wrong tree, mate. Fact that Tony’s told James to drop his mistress and concentrate on making his marriage work will only score Brownie points with the IBA. Besides, if the papers start sniffin’ round James, they might easily cotton on to Lizzie and me.’

Rupert sighed. ‘If Declan and I can behave ourselves, I can’t think why you can’t.’

As soon as Freddie had gone, the Bishop and the Professor, who was clutching a huge whisky in one hand and a vast plate of smoked salmon sandwiches in the other, closed in on Rupert.

‘Could we have a word?’ said the Bishop.

‘We’re a bit concerned about Freddie Jones,’ said the Professor with his mouth full.

‘Charming chap, of course,’ said the Bishop smoothly. ‘Definitely one of nature’s gentlemen, but a little bit of a rough diamond.’

‘Rough diamonds are a consortium’s best friend,’ said Rupert lightly, but there was a deterrent steeliness about his eyes.

‘Ha, ha,’ said the Bishop heartily. ‘However, as I was saying, Crispin Graystock knows several members of the IBA who we’ll be meeting on the 29th. I myself am not unfamiliar with quite a few of them either. Mrs Menzies-Scott is an old friend, and of course I’ve exchanged views with the Prebendary. We just feel that Freddie Jones is not quite the right vehicle to put Venturer’s message across.’

‘What d’you mean, vehicle?’ snapped Rupert. ‘Freddie’s not a van!’

‘Well, someone who talks about Lord Reef and Cafflic converts and refers to Tony Baddingham as “a fug” -’ delicately the Professor mimicked Freddie’s accent – ‘and extols the joys of “miking vast sums of money”, will hardly go down very well with the IBA.’

‘To be frank,’ said the Bishop, ‘poor Freddie can hardly string a sentence together.’

‘Freddie is a star,’ said Rupert furiously. ‘He’s far the most genuine person Venturer’s got. He runs one of the most successful companies in the country and he’s got the common touch.’

‘A very common touch,’ said the Professor, stuffing two more sandwiches into his face and gargling them down with a huge slug of whisky.

‘All we’re suggesting,’ said the Bishop soothingly, ‘is that Freddie Jones may be very much at home on the shop floor, with businessmen, even with the press, but not with the clergymen, academics, ladies of the Women’s Institute and senior statesmen he’s going to encounter on the 29th.’

‘We feel very strongly that he should stick to technical specifications, take more of a back seat and perhaps take a few elocution lessons,’ added the Professor.

‘I know an ex-actor who lives in Will-is-den,’ said the Bishop, taking Rupert’s stunned silence as assent, ‘who’s worked absolute miracles with somewhat – er – provincial young curates, who have difficulty taking services and giving sermons.’

‘I’ve never heard such a bloody awful idea in my life,’ exploded Rupert. ‘D’you want to castrate Freddie, to take away all his spontaneity and bounce? And coming from two jumped-up ex-grammar school boys who talk about “Willis-den”, and “substarntial involevement” makes it all the more laughable. Do you want Freddie to talk like a fucking toastmaster?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ thundered the Bishop, turning puce.

‘And for someone who calls himself a Christian and another a practising socialist, you’re both a bloody disgrace,’ added Rupert.

‘I hope you’ll withdraw that remark,’ spluttered the Professor, showering Rupert with whisky-soaked crumbs.

‘Sausage rolls, anyone?’ said Cameron, coming over and shoving a plate between them. ‘What on earth’s the matter?’

‘The Bishop and the Professor have just pointed out that Freddie is a social embarrassment to Venturer and should take some elocution lessons,’ said Rupert furiously and stalked out of the room.

It took all Cameron’s and, later, Declan’s tact to calm the Bishop and the Professor down. Both threatened to resign, demanded Rupert’s resignation or at least most humble apologies, and were only placated by a large and very expensive dinner at the Gay Hussar.

It was two-thirty in the morning before Declan got home to Penscombe, but he found Taggie still up laying out apples in an upstairs spare room. With all the bills flooding in, it might be all they had to live on soon.

‘How did it go?’ she asked.

‘Awful, but Hardy Bissett says it’s always ghastly to begin with. He’ll knock them into shape. Billy Lloyd-Foxe turned up.’

‘Is he nice?’ said Taggie.

‘Enchanting,’ said Declan. ‘Exactly the right kind of person to calm everyone down. With the last fence in sight, they’re all getting incredibly twitchy.’

Then he told Taggie about Rupert’s row with the Bishop and the Professor.

‘Rupert was right. Poor Freddie,’ said Taggie indignantly.

‘He was not,’ said Declan. ‘Winding up other members of the consortium at this stage is insane. Keeping the Bishop sweet is absolutely crucial. Rupert was flip and obstructive the whole way through the meeting. I don’t know what’s got into him, or how poor Cameron puts up with him.’

It was poor Cameron now, reflected Taggie grimly.

‘She was fantastic at the meeting,’ Declan went on, with unexpected warmth. ‘The more I see of her, the better I think she is. In fact all the moles distinguished themselves, even Sally Maples, once she got over her nerves. And Charles keeps everyone’s spirits up. And Billy, as I said, just has an enchanting personality, which is bound to endear us to the IBA. I hate to sound over-confident -’ he reached over and touched the skirting board – ‘but if we don’t do anything bloddy silly between now and December, our chances of getting the franchise must be focking good.’

RIVALS

In the first week in November Tony Baddingham called a press conference. He looked on top of the world, the scarlet poppy in his buttonhole adding just the right note of concerned sobriety to offset the hedonistic effect of a splendid Los Angeles suntan.

He had been in LA, he told the waiting army of reporters and cameramen, to sign up a brilliant new woman programme controller who would start in the new year.

‘Assuming you win the franchise?’ asked ITN.

‘There’s no doubt about that,’ said Tony smugly.

‘Is she better than Cameron Cook?’

‘I have no doubt about that either,’ said Tony even more smugly.

He went on to say that Corinium had set aside sixteen million pounds next year for new programmes and pledged to have ‘an even fresher and more responsible approach to covering the region’.

‘The old fox is up to something,’ muttered the
Mail on Sunday.
‘He didn’t get us here just for this crap.’

‘What about advertising?’ asked the
Observer.

‘Revenue may be down,’ Tony replied smoothly, ‘but so is the advertising revenue of all the ITV companies.’

It had been a bad summer for advertising, he explained, because the weather had been so good, but this had boosted Corinium’s leisure interests, so shareholders could expect excellent mid-term results in December.

‘Why weren’t you prepared to face Declan O’Hara on Radio Cotchester?’ asked the
Scorpion.

‘Because Corinium prefer to rest on their laurels and not indulge in vulgar abuse and -’ Tony lowered his voice, so the journalists had to crane forward to catch what he was saying – ‘Declan O’Hara might not have been quite so happy to face me had he been aware that I know everything he’s been up to.’

‘Here it comes,’ said ITN, as Tony very slowly got out a cigar and made a great play of cutting off the end before lighting it.

‘Declan O’Hara,’ he went on slowly, ‘has been poaching my staff. This summer he enticed Cameron Cook away, but as early as May he had signed up my sales director, Georgie Baines, my religious editor, Charles Fairburn, and my finest news reporter, Sebastian Burrows. I’d like also to warn the BBC, London Weekend, and Yorkshire Television, that Billy Lloyd-Foxe, Harold White and Sally Maples -’ Tony enunciated the names particularly carefully so all the journalists could get them down – ‘are also signed up and poised to move to Venturer in the most unlikely event of them winning the franchise.’

There was a stunned silence.

‘How the hell did you find all this out?’ asked the
Mail on Sunday,
almost sent flying by the unseemly dash for the telephones.

‘I wouldn’t be chief executive of Corinium if I didn’t know everything that was going on in my own company,’ said Tony grimly, ‘and I intend to keep it that way for many years to come. Unlike Venturer,’ he added dismissively, ‘whose security is even worse than MIS.’

For twenty-four hours Tony left the three Corinium moles to sweat, and the whole Corinium building in a turmoil of rumour and speculation. James Vereker, for one, was absolutely furious on initially hearing the news. How dare Declan ignore him and sign up Charles, who was nothing but a fat drunken fag, or Seb, who was infinitely junior to James in the newsroom, or Georgie, of whose longer eyelashes James was inordinately jealous? Then James’s fury turned to pleasure, as he realized that all three moles would be for the high jump. He even gave several interviews to the nationals, saying he was utterly disgusted by their disloyal, uncaring behaviour, and that he felt huge sympathy for Tony Baddingham in his hour of desertion.

James was therefore not the only member of Corinium’s staff hanging round the newsroom waiting for fireworks the following morning, after word whistled round the building that Tony had sent for Georgie Baines. Seb was demented with worry, thinking of the loan he’d wheedled out of his bank manager for a new Ferrari. Charles could only take another gulp of claret and think greyly of his five-figure overdraft and the mortgage he’d just taken out on a tumbledown cottage near Penscombe.

Half an hour later Georgie Baines staggered into the newsroom making agonized faces and clutching his bottom as though he’d just been given twelve of the best. Then, very slowly, he drew the latest Corinium Company Report out of the seat of his trousers, then roared and roared with laughter.

‘Tony gave me an absolute bollocking,’ he told his amazed audience, ‘said if I have any more dealings with Venturer, he’ll sue me for breach of contract, but it’s made him realize how much I’m worth to Corinium. So he’s doubled my salary, and made me Deputy Managing Director – so you better all behave yourselves, my darlings.’

‘Oh, how sweet,’ said Daysee Butler, bursting into tears.

‘You’re not joining Venturer then?’ asked Seb.

‘Not for the moment,’ said Georgie. Then, rubbing his hands, ‘And now that I’m deputy MD I’m going to start getting heavy. Off with his head!’ he yelled, pointing at a very discomforted James Vereker. ‘And don’t you go giving any more interviews to the press about me and disloyalty, you little twerp.’