‘Yes,’ Emma replied. ‘You weren’t too hard on her, were you?’
‘No, no. Not really. But come on, Emma, it’s a game, they all know what they’re buying into.’
‘I suppose so,’ Emma replied doubtfully.
‘Don’t go
too
soft on me, Em,’ Calvin said. ‘I’m doing what you want over HRH but I still have to make a show, you know.’
‘Yes, I know,’ he heard her say. ‘And I suppose you do make some dreams come true, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do. That Quasar bloke’s going to get a meal ticket for life. Lots of them do.’
‘Yes.’
‘What stuns me is the way people buy into the whole “we love Beryl” thing. The woman is so evidently a lying, self-obsessed, bullying bitch. I’ve seen her diss Mingers this morning like you wouldn’t
believe.
We had this half-dead skeleton of a crack whore in and Beryl asked her if she’d thought of a hair weave! You can’t get much meaner than that, but five minutes later she’s pretending to give a shit about some sixteen-year-old human zit with attitude and we all
believe
her. The woman’s a genius. A fucking genius.’
‘Everybody hates her on the team, you know.’
‘You
amaze me!
’ Calvin grinned. ‘Guess what, Rodney just threatened to resign again!’
‘You
amaze me!’
Emma laughed back. ‘Did you let him?’
‘Of course. Told him I wanted to film it.’
Emma laughed. ‘You know, Calvin, I think that’s why people like you. I think deep down they understand that you
know
this whole thing is a joke. That you are actually enjoying the pantomime as much as the audience.’
‘Do
you
like me, Emma?’
‘You know I like you, Calvin. If you hadn’t been such a prick I’d be there with you now.’
‘But I’m making back the ground, aren’t I? Slowly?’
‘Yes. Slowly. Just don’t forget your promise.’
‘I think about it every day, Emma. It’s going to be hard but I will save the future King from himself.’
‘I can’t believe how confident you are . . . Confidence is attractive.’
‘I’m in love with you, Emma.’
‘I have to go.’
‘Are you in love with me?’
‘I . . . I’m trying to take things easy. Control my emotions.’
‘I’ve controlled absolutely every aspect of my life for years. Falling in love with you was the one thing I couldn’t control and yet it’s the one thing that makes me happy and excited. You should try losing control.’
‘I’m not like you, Calvin. I’m the opposite. You need to loosen up, I don’t.
Not
being in control has always been my problem. I need to be in control now.’
‘But why?’
‘Because, Calvin, that day when you sacked me and tried to fuck me . . .’
‘Oh, not
that
again.’
‘Yes,
that
again.’
‘I’ve said I’m sorry.’
‘And I’ve no doubt you are, Calvin, because you showed me something of your true self that day and I am in no doubt that if I’d slept with you that night and taken my job back you wouldn’t be in love with me now. It’s because you
can’t
have me that you care so much. You just love a challenge, Calvin. You can’t resist one.’
‘Will you ever love me?’
‘When I can trust you. Look, I have to go, I’m in Sainsbury’s. Will you ring me later?’
‘Of course.’
‘Bye.’
Calvin turned off his phone, both frustrated and thrilled. He knew that she was right. He did love a challenge. He
had
to get that girl.
Troy Learns to Read
Chelsie was back in the holding area where her next shoot was scheduled. This was one that Calvin had scripted himself but which he did not wish to attend.
‘Uhm, Your Royal Highness?’ Chelsie said.
The Prince of Wales looked up from the book he had been reading.
‘Eh, what? Oh hello. How
are you
? Just boning up on my crop rotation. Smallholdings are an absolute
nightmare
to farm, do you agree? At least I always think they are. Perhaps I’m
mad
, a lot of people seem to think so, but I keep
banging on
just the same. Not that anybody listens but I do think it’s
important
, don’t you?’
‘This is Troy.’
The cameras Chelsie had brought with her began to close in as the sixteen-year-old youth stepped forward, still holding his comic.
‘Hello.
Hello.
Troy, is it?’ the Prince said, jumping up. ‘How
are
you? What’s that? A
comic
, I see. Well
done.
Is it good? I know some of them are
awfully
cleverly done. How
are
you?’
‘I read comics because I can’t read very well,’ Troy replied in a rather wooden manner, as if these were words he had been told to say.
‘Goodness! Really? Well, you know, we do positively
heaps
of work on
the literacy issue
in my charity. We run
homework
clubs, you know. I do believe
very strongly
that we can’t simply leave young people
behind.
We
have
to find a way to include them. Of course I
bang on about it
all the time, but I don’t suppose anybody
listens
very much, do you?’
A few feet away Keely edged into the shot and whispered a piece to camera as if she were listening in on a genuinely spontaneous encounter.
‘Meanwhile in the holding area,’ she whispered, ‘Troy has got chatting to the Prince of Wales. Like most people here, the penny hasn’t dropped for Troy that he’s speaking to the heir to the throne. Everybody else thinks he’s a lookalike but I don’t even think Troy thinks that. The royal family are simply not on his radar at all.’
The Prince was still politely chatting with Troy, who had sat down next to him and was showing the Prince his comic.
‘Goodness,
Batman
,’ the Prince was saying. ‘Is it very exciting?’
‘I don’t know,’ Troy replied. ‘I can’t read it.’
‘I
see
,’ said the Prince. ‘It’s all Greek to Troy, eh?’
The Prince laughed as if he had made a joke but Troy had clearly not followed it.
‘It’s frustrating,’ said Troy, offering the Prince his comic.
The two serious-looking men sitting nearby stirred for a moment.
‘Oh, don’t
fuss
so!’ the Prince admonished them, taking Troy’s comic. ‘Goodness,
Deep in the Bat cave the Dark Knight sits brooding
– how thrilling!’
For a moment the Prince and the youth sat together and pored over
Batman
.
At a discreet distance, the cameras rolled.
Congratulations, You’re Through: Quasar and The Four-Z
After lunch, which Calvin and Beryl spent on the phone and Rodney spent pretending to be on the phone, the second half of the day began with the drudgery of setting up those characters who it had been decided would proceed through to the Pop School stage of the contest and also in some cases on to the finals.
The Quasar was up first, doing everything that was expected of him. He walked in wearing a skin-tight string vest and announced that he was already a superstar and it remained only for the three judges to alert the world.
Calvin pretended to hate him, as planned.
Beryl asked him if his muscles were real, as planned.
The Quasar played up to it all beautifully as the selectors had assumed he would. They had expected him to offer Beryl a squeeze test so that she could make up her own mind, and he did. They had not expected him to ask if she’d like to squeeze his love muscle to see if that was real too, but regrettably (since it was that rare thing on
Chart Throb
, a moment of genuine comedy) it would not make the final cut of a family show.
The Quasar was voted through as planned. Calvin had long since decided that the Quasar (who, although no singer, was a genuinely amusing and personable Blinger) would make it all the way to the finals.
Next came The Four-Z, who did a not-bad four-part a cappella harmony of ‘Three Times A Lady’ in which no fewer than three parts were in tune most of the time. They were voted through in a unanimous orgy of dewy-eyed enthusiasm, as if The Commodores themselves had turned up for an audition.
‘You know what?’ said Calvin, going all professional and serious. ‘It is rare to encounter such innate musical talent in people so young. You
owned
that song. You boys are genuine stars and you have huge recording careers ahead of you.’
‘You know what?’ said Beryl, half mother, half sex kitten. ‘You guys just blew me away. I’m a rock chick from way back and I know that that is one tough song to nail, but you know what? You guys owned it.’
‘You know what?’ said Rodney. ‘I honestly think you sang it better than Lionel Richie did, you took that song and you know what? You owned it.’
The boys left the room weeping tears of joy.
‘You know what?’ said Calvin testily, after they had left. ‘We can’t
all
say “you know what” so can you please refer to the phrase distribution chart which is included in each morning’s briefing notes?’
Calvin was referring to the system he had developed in the face of the plethora of judging-panel shows that had emerged since
Pop Idol
and
X Factor.
Phrases which had arisen in those early days – ‘you know what?’, ‘you owned that song’, ‘you could sell a lot of records’, ‘you rock big time’, ‘the dream’s over’, ‘the song was just too big for you’, ‘I loved you
so
much but it’s a no from me’ – had soon become the staple audition language for all panels and it had been necessary to ration them.
Outside the audition room The Four-Z didn’t care what language had been used to put them through, they were too busy leaping about with Keely and collectively thanking God for taking them one very big step closer to moving out of hell.
Congratulations, You’re Through: Graham and Millicent
The next auditionees were Graham and Millicent.
‘Hi. I’m Millicent,’ said Millicent, leading Graham in.
‘I’m Graham,’ said Graham.
‘And together we’re Graham and Millicent.’
Millicent announced that they would like to sing ‘Bright Eyes’ (which had been suggested to them by Chelsie, although the idea had come from Calvin).
‘Good song,’ said Calvin, looking serious. ‘Good choice.’
Beryl, who had been discreetly pulling at the hairs on the inside of her nose in preparation, wept real tears as they began.
Millicent sang well and Graham sang badly. Not, however, according to Calvin, who as usual was not inclined to let the facts get in the way of a good story, particularly one that he had written himself.
‘You know what?’ Calvin said, once more playing the role of the straight-talking perfectionist. ‘For a double act that was a great solo performance.’
The two young people stood in silent confusion, waiting for Calvin to explain himself.
‘Millicent?’ Calvin enquired. ‘What do you think you bring to this act?’
‘Well, I . . .’
‘I’ll tell you,’ said Calvin. ‘Currently, nothing. Graham has a voice and you don’t, it’s as simple as that. He’s a singer, you’re a passenger, Millicent, and I think you know it too. He’s carrying you, Millicent. No, he isn’t carrying you, you’re not that good. He’s
dragging
you, Millicent. Right now Graham is
dragging
you along. How do you feel about that, Millicent? Is that what you want? To be dragged? You must be aware that you’re holding him back.’
Millicent did not reply. By the look on her face she would have had more chance of replying if Calvin had punched her in the stomach. She was clearly sick with horror.
‘How do you feel, Graham?’ Calvin asked. ‘You’re a singer, you’re singing with someone who can’t sing. It’s screwing up your act. How do you feel?’
Graham could not find words either. The two young people, young lovers, simply stood and stared like witnesses to a tragedy. Which, in a way, they were.
‘Right!’ snapped Calvin, going all businesslike. ‘I’m going to put you through because of Graham and only because of Graham, it’s as simple as that. Rodney?’
‘I agree,’ said Rodney, who knew what was expected of him. ‘Graham has the voice. He’s the talent.’
‘Beryl?’ Calvin snapped again.
‘Yes,’ croaked Beryl, picking up her cue from Calvin. ‘I’m going to say yes but only because of Graham and his beautiful rock ’n’ roll voice. You are
so
sexy, Graham, and that
voice
!’