How to Get Ahead in Television (11 page)

STEP 21 – OFFER TO DO MORE THAN IS EXPECTED ON EVERY ASSIGNMENT

L
UCKILY, THE REST
of the run-through went without a hitch. JR and Magnus hadn't even noticed my blunder in the newsroom, so I assumed I'd got away with it. I could handle stuffy old Leonard and his team being cross with me, I just didn't want to disappoint JR.

Magnus was a fantastically terrifying host and the contestants Jude had lined up had exactly the right level of knowledge to make the game work perfectly. JR appeared very happy with how it had gone, and took Alan, Jude and I out for a drink at the pub across the road to celebrate.

‘What would you all like?' JR asked us at the bar.

‘Champagne!' I said, feeling as though we had something to celebrate.

‘Um, orange juice for me,' said Jude.

‘I'll have a pint,' said Alan, pulling his lank hair back into a ponytail.

‘Well, no, wine for me then,' I backtracked.

‘No, no, if Dangermouse wants champagne, champagne Dangermouse shall have.' JR looked at me with amusement. ‘If that run-through doesn't get us a commission, I don't know what will. You all did a great job, team.'

We went to sit down and JR brought me over a miniature bottle of champagne with a straw in it. I was embarrassed at
having asked for champagne, so drank it quickly then volunteered to get the next round in.

‘I have to head off,' said Jude with a shrug.

Alan stayed for one more and then it was just JR and I. Alone with him at last, in a pub, two drinks in. (Which was the perfect amount: I'd be confident and amusing, without being drunk or embarrassing.)

‘I'll stick around for one more if you will?' I said, super casually.

JR looked at me, assessing me. I mentally pleaded with him to stay, willing him to have one more.

‘I could have one more, I guess. We are celebrating your first wrap on a production, I suppose, Penfold.'

‘Yes!'

‘What will you have? I'll get these.'

‘Champagne!' I said, making what I thought to be a hilarious reference to the awkward nature of my first order.

‘Really? Poppy, you do have expensive tastes for a runner, you know?'

‘Oh, I was joking,' I said. ‘I was just saying that because obviously when I said that before it was quite… awkward. Wine, I'll have wine.'

JR rolled his eyes at me. He headed to the bar and returned with another miniature bottle of champagne.

‘Oh no, honestly, I really was joking. Let me pay you back.'

‘Poppy, it's fine. You are odd sometimes, aren't you?'

‘Odd? Odd how?'

‘Well, when you're being good and organized, running around getting me coffee and scripts, you really are very good…'

‘But…' I said.

‘But sometimes I look at you and you're like a flustered little fairy, flitting around the place – a chaotic little elf.' JR smiled.

‘A fairy?' I said, leaning back on two chair legs, then quickly having to catch myself from falling backwards.

JR laughed. ‘Yes, a clumsy, galumphing little Tinkerbell.'

I must have looked crestfallen, because JR reached out to touch my hand reassuringly.

‘Don't worry, you're doing a good job, Poppy.'

‘You must watch a lot of cartoons,' I said.

‘Why?'

‘Dangermouse, Tinkerbell?'

JR gave the hint of a blush, a dimple appearing on one cheek beneath his stubble.

‘Maybe you just remind me of a cartoon, Penfold.'

We stayed in the bar for another hour and I felt as though I was on the best date I'd ever been on. I loved the fact that JR was this big scary producer on the one hand, but this quick-witted, funny guy on the other. Everything he said, I fizzed in response to, desperate to say the right thing, for him to like me too.

‘I should go. Come on, Dangermouse, let's get you a cab,' JR said suddenly, as I tottered back from the loo, realizing I was a little tipsy.

‘No! More champagne!' I cried.

JR laughed. ‘I've got a lot to do tomorrow. Come on, I'm cutting you off. I'll get a bad reputation, getting my pretty little runners drunk.'

Did he say pretty?

He guided me out onto the street and I savoured the feeling of his hand against the small of my back.

‘I heard you already had a bad reputation, JR…' I said.

‘Did you now?' JR said, looking up and down the road for a cab.

I tripped on the cobbled pavement and JR reached out to stabilize me. I suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to kiss him. We were standing face to face; I knew he felt it too, this fizz between us. He'd never make the first move, he was my boss – I would have to kiss him, to let him know it was okay…

This was definitely a good idea. This felt like the moment in the movie when the hero and heroine finally get together.

As I lurched my lips toward him, I felt his hands, suddenly strong on my forearms. He was going to pull me into his arms for a passionate embrace… But then I realized he wasn't pulling me into his arms at all, he was pushing me away.

‘Woah, Poppy, what are you doing?'

I opened my eyes, which I must have closed in anticipation.

‘Kissing you?'

He obviously hadn't realized what I was doing; perhaps it wasn't clear. I lunged again.

‘Woah, Poppy, no. Seriously, that's not a good idea.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because I'm your boss, and you're twenty-two, and drunk… and… well, a million other reasons.' He ruffled his hair in frustration.

Hmmm. I didn't quite understand what was happening here. What about the fizz, the chemistry, the movie moment?

‘But you f… fancy me, I kn… know you do,' I slurred.

‘Really?'

‘Yes, you've been flirting with me all night, and… and you must have felt it, between us, no? These last few weeks?'

A cool breeze swept along the street, momentarily sobering me up. I blinked, glimpsing the reality of the situation.

‘Oh god, really? No!'

‘Poppy, come on, don't worry about it, let's just get you in a cab,' he said, looking down the street, willing one to appear.

‘Oh, I'm so embarrassed.'

‘Don't be embarrassed. Come on, it's fine.'

‘You're just saying that to make me feel better.'

There were no cabs. An overwhelming desire to run away suddenly hit me. The cringe-worthy nature of the situation, coupled with the look in JR's eye, like he really didn't want to deal with this, just made me want to leg it. So I turned and fled.

‘Poppy!' JR shouted after me. ‘Poppy, come back.'

But I kept running. I could work out where I was later and find myself a cab home. I crossed the road and saw a glimpse
of the river through some buildings. I glanced behind me, hoping JR wasn't following me. I was alone, so I sprinted off through the alleyway. I just needed to sober up, to regroup.

I walked over to the railings and steadied myself, looking down into the murky depths of the Thames. The moon was bright, and the dark, churning water looked strangely beautiful, the swirls of water dancing this way and that. As I stared out over the water, I felt a tug on my arm. JR spun me around – he had followed me. Perhaps he'd tried to resist, but now he just
had
to kiss me? What a romantic setting for our first kiss; much better than the street. I collapsed into his arms in a dramatic swoon.

‘Poppy, don't run away like that. I'm not chasing you halfway around bloody London, and I can hardly leave you here in this state, can I? You can barely stand. Come on, I've found you a cab.' He pulled my arm, dragging me back to the road.

‘Just leave me here, I'm not your responsibility! I want to look at the river, it's all swirly!' I tugged back.

‘Stop being childish, Poppy.' He sounded really quite cross now.

We got back to the road and there was a black cab waiting, its passenger door open.

‘Where do you live?' JR asked me.

‘Greenwich,' I said, feeling like an admonished child. I crawled into the cab and slunk into the corner, defeated.

‘You are an expensive runner,' JR said, shaking his head and handing the cab driver fifty pounds. ‘Take her wherever she wants to go,' he said, and then slammed the door of the cab without even saying goodbye.

STEP 22 – YOU WILL NEVER GET A SECOND CHANCE TO MAKE A FIRST IMPRESSION

T
HE NEXT DAY
was a Saturday. I woke with that nagging feeling something bad happened the night before, but it took me a few minutes for the whole thing to come back in all its Technicolour glory.

Nat brought a cup of coffee down to my basement bedroom.

‘Wow, Poppy, you were shit-faced last night.'

‘Was I?' I tried to sit up, but the sudden throbbing headache forced me back down beneath the duvet.

‘Oh no, no, you are not having a duvet day, you're helping me try on bridesmaid dresses today, remember?' said Nat, pulling back the covers.

‘I think something bad happened last night,' I said, my voice hoarse.

‘Something bad? Bad how?' Nat asked, looking concerned.

‘Embarrassing bad.'

I'd already admitted to Nat that I'd developed a minor, somewhat all-consuming crush on JR, so she knew the background as I relayed the hazy details of last night's events.

‘I'm sure it wasn't as bad as you think,' she offered.

‘Oh it was, it really was…' I said. ‘I think I watch too much TV, Nat, honestly. In my head it was about to be this big romantic moment, like Carrie and Big or Ross and Rachel,
this long-anticipated kiss… But, in reality, I was just a drunk girl throwing herself at this gorgeous older man, who probably really regrets hiring her now. How could I be so deluded?'

‘Booze will do that,' Nat said. ‘Honestly, it sounds like he was super nice about it. Maybe he just didn't want to take advantage? He probably felt like he should do the right thing, since you were so obviously off your face.'

‘Oh god, how am I going to face him? How will I go into work on Monday? Do you think he will tell people?'

‘He won't tell people. It's not in his interest to tell people. Come on, get up, booze breath. Shopping with me is just the thing to get you over your hangover.'

Nat's older sister Veronica – who currently lived in America – was getting married in a few months and Natalie was to be her maid of honour. Veronica had given her a specific list of approved boutiques from which she could choose a dress, several of which Natalie had booked appointments with today.

In the first two shops I sat in the corner feeling like a rancid badger had died in my mouth and a feral fox was running around in my brain, pawing at the inside of my temple. When the smart proprietress offered me a glass of champagne (apparently they do this in bridal shops), I thought I might actually throw up.

‘Well?' Natalie asked, coming out in a floor-length blue velvet monstrosity.

‘No. Looks like something my mum would wear,' I said. The proprietress bristled.

‘This one.' Natalie held up another lace creation.

‘No! Looks like a doily. Ugh.'

I'm not sure I was being much help.

On our way to the third shop, Natalie had an idea.

‘Trying on dresses on my own is so tedious. In the next shop, why don't you try on some too, Pen?'

‘Why would I want to try on bridesmaid dresses?' I grimaced.

‘Oooh,' squealed Nat, ‘or even better, ask to try on some of the bridal dresses! This shop we're going to next does gorgeous bridal dresses as well as bridesmaid ones.'

‘Nat, don't be ridiculous,' I said.

‘Oh come on, it will be fun! I'll say you've just got engaged. I've always wanted to try on wedding dresses, haven't you?'

By the time we arrived at the shop, Natalie had managed to convince me that this was a good idea. The shop was called Patricia Palmerston-Smythe Bridal and you had to ring a special doorbell to gain entry (I'd never been to a shop where you had to ring a bell to get in before). The floor was swathed in pristine white fur and along each wall hung the most exquisite-looking dresses.

‘Hi, I'm Natalie McGurk,' said Nat. ‘I've got an appointment at two o'clock.'

The snooty-looking shop lady gave us a thin-lipped smile.

‘Ms McGurk, yes, your sister has already called ahead with some dress suggestions. I've put them aside in the fitting suite.'

‘Great! Listen, this is my friend Poppy and, well, she's just got engaged!' Nat gushed.

Oh god. I suddenly started to feel very hot and hungover again. This wasn't a good idea.

‘And I know you wouldn't usually allow this…' Nat fluttered her eyelids at the shop lady. ‘But, since we're here, I just wondered if she might be able to try on a couple of dresses while we're at it? Just to get some inspiration, you know?'

The stern shop lady started shaking her head, but Nat wasn't giving up.

‘You see, she's marrying a
very
rich,
very
successful television producer called James Ravenstone. He basically runs TV-land – you might have heard of him? Of course, he wants her to have the absolute best of everything at the wedding. He has a
lot
of cash to splash.'

I turned my back on this cringe-inducing performance and started admiring some of the dresses hanging along the wall. I knew I would only make things worse if I tried to get involved.

‘Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt to try on a few,' the shop lady conceded. ‘If you don't mind sharing your fitting suite?'

‘Not at all,' Natalie said.

As the shop lady turned her back, Natalie turned to me and mouthed ‘amazing!'.

Before I knew it, I was all trussed up in a full-on ivory silk bridal gown, with lace embroidery around the corset.

‘Oh my god.' Natalie had a tear in her eye. ‘You look soooo amazing! Like, better-than-Kate-Middleton amazing.'

I looked in the mirror. I had to concede I did look pretty bloody amazing, the way the dress pulled in my waist and the fabric swept out at my hips… well, it was just very flattering. Looking this good was also a surprisingly effective hangover cure. Natalie was right – trying on dresses had been a great plan.

‘It does suit you. Your fiancé James would be thrilled,' the shop lady simpered.

Natalie rolled her eyes at me behind the woman's back.

‘It's very flattering, isn't it?' I said, looking in the mirror and swishing it up and down a bit.

‘Yes, ten-thousand-pound dresses tend to be flattering,' Nat said.

‘Ten thousand pounds!' I said, shocked that anything in the world could cost ten thousand pounds. I caught the shop lady's eye and quickly added, ‘… is probably quite reasonable considering the exquisite workmanship.'

Natalie snapped a picture of me with her phone.

‘You can't take photos of the dresses, I'm afraid,' the shop lady said firmly.

‘Sorry,' said Natalie, sheepishly hiding the phone behind her back. We were like children who'd been let loose in a dressing-up box – this woman must hate us.

Just then, my phone started ringing from my bag.

‘I'd better get that,' I said, swishing back behind the curtain where my bag was stowed on an ivory silk armchair. I rummaged through it looking for the phone.

‘Hello?'

‘Hello.'

It was JR.

‘James?'

‘Yes.'

Butterflies skipped in my stomach and I started pacing the room nervously. Why was he calling me on a Saturday? Maybe I was fired and he was going to tell me not to come in on Monday? Oh god, DO NOT accidentally turn on FaceTime. Imagine if he could see where I was right now.

‘I just, um… I just wanted to check you were okay,' he said, sounding slightly nervous. I'd never heard him sound nervous.

‘I am soooo sorry, James, I… Last night was so unprofessional. I am so embarrassed…'

I looked up to see the shop lady eyeing me suspiciously, so I pulled the curtain of the fitting room back a little further.

‘It's fine, Poppy. As long as you are okay?' said JR.

I froze, unable to speak, too aware of being listened to and not at all sure what to say.

‘Poppy?' JR said, after a few moments' silence.

‘Yes,' I said quietly.

‘Are you still there?'

‘Yes.'

‘Do you plan on being entirely monosyllabic with me now?'

‘No,' I said, moving my bag and sitting down on the armchair; all this expensive fabric was actually quite heavy to carry around.

‘Look, I rang to see if you were alive, which you are, so that's good.'

‘Yes.'

‘So I guess I'll see you Monday…'

‘Okay.'

JR sounded annoyed that I was being so quiet, but what could I do? Nat had just told the shop lady he was my
fiancé: I couldn't have a proper conversation with him now. The fact that he was even calling me had taken me totally by surprise.

JR rang off and I reached for my bag to put the phone back. The corset restricted my movement and I knocked my bag over, spilling the contents over the floor. I had to get down on my hands and knees to retrieve them, as it was impossible to bend over in this dress. I picked up my wallet, keys, hairbrush and a grotty old Biro with a chewed end. I looked at it and smiled – Rhidian. He chewed on Biros endlessly at work; no pen was safe in his presence.

With everything safely back in my bag, I stood up and wondered how I was going to get out of this dress. Natalie came back around the curtain, mouthing, ‘Was that JR?' at me, but then her mouth fell open in horror as she saw me.

‘What?' I said.

Natalie clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes bulging out of her face in an alarming manner. She silently pointed a finger at the dress.

I looked down, following her arm, and there, in the middle of the ten-thousand-pound dress, was a distinct blue ink stain.

I pressed both hands over my mouth to stop myself from yelping, and we both just looked at each other in shock for a good thirty seconds.

‘Holy shit!' Natalie finally whispered. ‘How did you do that?'

‘I don't know!' I whispered back.

‘Is everything okay in there?' called the shop lady.

‘Yes, yes, all fine,' Natalie said, her voice panic-ridden.

‘Get me out of it!' I hissed, and Nat started scrabbling at the corset ribbons.

‘Oh my god, we are so dead,' Natalie murmured in my ear, but despite the gravity of the situation, she sounded as though she was about to laugh.

Once I was out of the dress, she carefully folded it up on the chair, hiding the guilty stain from view. She slipped out of
the bridesmaid dress she was wearing and draped it over the wedding dress.

‘Okay, I've got an idea, but you need to start crying,' she whispered.

‘Are you girls ready for the next gowns?' the shop lady called through the curtain.

‘Why do you want me to cry?' I hissed at Natalie.

‘Just do it and follow my lead.'

We quickly pulled on our clothes and grabbed our bags. I did as Natalie said and tried to look tearful as she pulled back the curtain. The shop lady looked surprised to see us in our own clothes.

‘Is everything okay?' she asked suspiciously.

‘No. I'm afraid not,' Natalie said somberly. ‘That was her fiancé James on the phone. He just called off the wedding. Bastard.'

I sniffed and tried to look sad. Natalie pinched me on the arm and I tried a sob. I obviously wasn't giving a good enough performance.

‘Oh,' said the shop lady.

‘Of course we have to leave immediately, you understand.' Natalie shook her head gravely. ‘This is the last place she needs to be.'

I offered up a dramatic wail, but it sounded more like an asthmatic duck impression. Acting was not my forte.

‘Of course. Well, you are still young, dear.' The lady touched my arm sympathetically. ‘Best not to rush into these things.'

I let out another duck wail and Natalie shepherded me out of the shop.

We ran down the street until we were out of breath, Natalie howling with laughter.

‘Why are you laughing?' I cried.

‘It was funny.' Nat looked wild-eyed with adrenaline.

‘I ruined a ten-thousand-pound dress, Nat!'

‘Which my sister will probably be billed for…'

‘No!' I slapped a hand to my forehead. ‘I'm so sorry, I don't know how it happened, I had an old Biro in my bag… You really think we should have run away like that?'

‘What were we going to do? Do you have ten grand?' Nat shrugged.

‘No.'

We walked to Green Park Tube, digesting what had just happened. I felt terrible, like a felon on the run, while Natalie appeared to find the whole incident incredibly amusing.

‘So JR called you?' Nat said, chirpily changing the subject.

‘Yes!'

‘What did he say?'

‘He said he just wanted to see if I was okay.'

‘You didn't talk for very long.'

‘Well, I couldn't talk for long, could I, with Miss-Beady-Eyed-Shop-Lady watching me.'

‘That was nice of him to call though?'

‘What do you think it means?' I asked.