How to Get Ahead in Television (14 page)

STEP 25 – HAVE A FINANCIAL CONTINGENCY PLAN – TV WAGES CAN BE TOUGH TO LIVE ON

A
S I SKIPPED
into work the next morning, my mother called me. I decided to take it – nothing could dampen my mood this morning, not even my mother.

‘Hi, Mum!'

‘Poppy, I'm glad I caught you. Now, how was your date with Ian?'

‘It wasn't a date, Mum, and it was fine. He said I wasn't qualified to work in banking and I was much better off trying to make a go of it in TV.'

‘Did he now?' My mother sounded sceptical. ‘And how did you get on… you know, besides work? You used to be so close as children, you know.'

‘He's a nice guy, he was very helpful. Oh, while I think about it, can I borrow two hundred quid?'

‘What for, Poppy? Not drugs?'

‘Don't be ridiculous. No, Nat's mum has asked me to start contributing some rent money while I'm staying at their house, 'cause otherwise she was going to let the basement out to a lodger. I'm a bit short. It would just be a loan until payday.'

‘Hmmm, and what's the long-term plan, Poppy? You can't stay in Natalie's parents' basement for the rest of your life, can you? I just don't know how you're ever going to sign a lease when you're living such a mouth-to-hand existence.'

‘Hand-to-mouth,' I corrected her.

‘What?'

‘The expression is hand-to-mouth, not mouth-to-hand. Look, it's fine – it's just a temporary arrangement. If I get this job, I'll have more security and I'll be able to move out into a house share or something.'

‘And what happens if you don't get this job, young lady?'

‘I will get the job, Mum. Honestly, everything's going really well at work. Yesterday one of the producers told me that I'd come up with a really good idea for a show and he thinks I should pitch it to ITV.'

I bit my lip. That wasn't exactly a lie; JR had said that, but perhaps my statement about getting the job was a little on the optimistic side. I wondered how my mother would react if she saw Rhidian's little chart of my various failures.

‘So you think they'll give it to you?' Mum asked.

‘Hopefully.'

‘And if they don't?'

‘Well, I guess I'll try and get something else in TV, at another production company.'

‘But if you don't get this job, Poppy – and I don't want to be negative – but maybe you don't have what it takes to make it in such a whimsical industry?'

‘It isn't whimsical, Mum. Look, my generation are never going to have a “job for life” like yours. I read some article in the
Telegraph
about how the average person my age will have at least five different careers in their lifetime.'

I had read no such article, but it sounded plausible, and if there was one thing my mother trusted, it was the opinion of the
Telegraph
.

‘Look, Poppy, I admire your spirit, I really do, but I'm just saying, we paid for you to get a degree, and we won't stand by while you fritter away your potential.'

‘Look, fine.' I sighed. ‘Listen, I promise if I don't get this job, I'll reassess the career plan.'

I didn't know why I was promising any such thing and was beginning to regret taking Mum's phone call.

‘Excellent. That sounds like a good plan, Poppy,' my mum said, perking up. ‘Now, on another note, there's an article in the
Mail
today that I want you to read: it's about freezing your eggs.'

‘Mum, I'm twenty-two! Why would I want to freeze my eggs?'

‘Well, it's good to get them banked while they're young and healthy. If you're planning on putting your career ahead of starting a family, it's good to have a contingency plan.'

‘I'm not freezing my eggs, Mum. I have to go.'

My mother achieved new levels of insanity on a daily basis. But as I walked into Soho Square, I started to wonder whether there might not be an element of truth in what she was saying about my finances. I could barely afford to live on my runner's wage as it was, and that was with me contributing only a minimal amount of rent. Fifteen grand a year was going to be hard to live on in a city like London. I thought of my friends who'd picked ‘proper' jobs and their thirty-five-grand training contracts straight out of university. How much easier life would be… No, this is the career I wanted, so economies would have to be made. I looked down at the Starbucks cappuccino in my hand. I would need to start living on a budget.

‘Morning, Penfold,' said Mel as I walked into RealiTV. She never called me Penfold; in fact, she rarely spoke to me when Rhidian wasn't around. I eyed her suspiciously.

‘Can I ask you something?' she said.

‘I guess…'

‘How do you have sex with someone in a wheelchair? Like, do you have to do it in the chair, or do you have to lift them out and do it on the bed with you doing all the work?'

‘Oh, bugger off, Mel.'

‘No, I'm serious, I genuinely want to know!'

Mel looked confused at me taking offence. What Rhidian could possibly see in that girl, I had no idea.

In the post room, David was on Helen's computer doing some kind of ‘Which Movie Genre Are You?' quiz. Luckily the other one was free, so I quickly jumped on to check my emails, hoping I might have something from JR.

FROM
: <
[email protected]
>

TO
: <
[email protected]
>

SUBJECT
:

Dangermouse. Last night was fun. The fourth floor misses you and the sound of falling coffee cups that accompanies your presence…

JR

RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

FROM
: <
[email protected]
>

TO
: <
[email protected]
>

SUBJECT
:

How rude. I only ever dropped two coffee cups, thank you very much.

I'm glad the fourth floor misses me.

RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

FROM
: <
[email protected]
>

TO
: <
[email protected]
>

SUBJECT
:

Are you busy in the runners' room today? If not, write up your show idea. The sooner we get it to the channel, the better.

RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

FROM
: <
[email protected]
>

TO
: <
[email protected]
>

SUBJECT
:

Aye aye, captain. Will get straight on it.

So how exactly are you going to cope without me today?

RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

‘Poppy, can you help the Entertainment floor with a printer blockage?' David's voice interrupted my emailing bubble.

I sighed. Unblocking a printer was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to stay here and impress JR with my witty email banter, then hopefully he would ask me out again and we'd kiss and he'd ask me to go surfing with him in his van, and the whole ‘move to Cornwall and win an Oscar' plan could begin.

‘Sure,' I said.

For the rest of the day I found myself scurrying around the building doing all sorts of tedious tasks, trying to jump on the computer whenever I had five minutes to spare. I grew more and more frustrated as the day went on and there were no more messages from JR. Maybe he was busy working? Maybe he thought I was busy working? Maybe he'd had an unexpected
heart attack upstairs and no one had noticed… Perhaps I should go and check?

‘What's wrong?' David asked me mid-afternoon.

‘Oh, nothing,' I said.

‘You bounced in here this morning, and now you look like Tigger who's lost his bounce.'

‘I'm fine,' I said, bouncing up and down to illustrate my perpetual bounciness. ‘Just tired. Hey, David, random question: has anyone ever had a heart attack in the building? You know, just been in their office and then accidentally dropped dead, unable to send texts or emails, but no one knew about it until the cleaner came later that night?'

‘No, Miss Morbid.' David looked thoughtful. ‘Though Phil Farmer once got trapped in the disabled loo overnight. He didn't die though.'

‘Well, that's a relief.'

STEP 26 – IT'S GOOD TO GET EXPERIENCE BOTH IN FRONT OF AND BEHIND THE CAMERA

FROM
: VANESSA

TO
: POPPY

OMG POPPY PENFOLD!! Did I just see your arse on Rusty Howarth's News Swipe???!?!?! V

FROM
: CLEMMIE

TO
: POPPY

P, YOU ARE SO EMBARRASSING!! PLEASE CAN YOU NOT TELL ANYONE WE ARE RELATED!! Clem

FROM
: MUM

TO
: POPPY

Poppy, I've had lots of people calling me to say they've seen you on some TV programme – ‘Rusty Howy's News Game' or something? Is it something we should have recorded? Well done from us! Mum x

T
HE TEXT MESSAGES
came in thick and fast. I was with Natalie watching
Orange is the New Black
on Netflix, so we changed the channel to look up the show in question on Plus One. I had a horrible feeling of impending doom as Nat flicked through the channels.

‘Okay, I've got it, this is it,' said Natalie, jumping onto a beanbag and dropping the Sky remote in her rush to find it.

Rusty Howarth's News Swipe
used outtakes and bloopers from news channels around the world. I watched in trepidation as the credits started. We didn't have to wait long – one minute in – before they showed a clip of BBC news from Friday afternoon. There I was in the background, obliviously wandering through shot, then realizing I was on camera, farcically ducking down to crawl across the office, my bottom bobbing along behind the desks like a camel's hump. It went on for a good twenty seconds – my bottom making its exit.

‘On the BBC, they're really getting to the
bottom
of the day's big events,' narrated Rusty Howarth.

‘Oh no!' Natalie yelped with laughter.

‘NOOOOO! How can they use that without… without getting my permission?' I cried indignantly.

‘Um, because you crawled across their newsroom while they were transmitting,' said Natalie, falling around on the floor in hysterics.

My phone kept beeping – everyone I had ever known was texting me.

‘This is so embarrassing.'

‘Oh, don't worry about it, Pen. Today's news, tomorrow's fish paper,' Nat said, trying to compose herself.

‘That's newspapers, Nat, this is TV; it's going to be on YouTube for ever. Everyone at work will have seen it!'

Nat looked thoughtful. ‘You just need to be philosophical about these things, Pen; worse things happen at sea.'

‘Do they? I don't know, Nat, I'm probably not going to be nationally humiliated at sea, am I?'

My phone started ringing; the caller ID said ‘Rhidian'.

‘Oh great. Rhidian. He's probably calling to tell me this is going on my chart of failures,' I said.

‘Ooh, put it on speakerphone, I want to hear what his voice sounds like,' said Nat.

I answered and clicked the phone onto loudspeaker.

‘Hello.'

‘Hi, Poppy,' Rhidian said. He sounded strangely quiet.

‘Oh, don't pretend you haven't seen it and you're not calling to gloat.' I sighed.

‘Seen what?'

‘Oh, ha ha.'

‘No, seriously, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm calling because we've been asked to go on a shoot tomorrow – last-minute change of plan.'

‘Oh.' Damn it.

Natalie hit her hand against her forehead, then mouthed ‘he sounds hot' at me. I shook my head and rolled my eyes at her.

‘Um, right, no, nothing. So what's the shoot?'

‘The survival show,
Survival of the Wittiest
. They're having a bit of a crisis – both their runners are off sick – so they've asked if we can help out for two days. We'll drive down to Dartmoor tomorrow afternoon. I was just calling to tell you to bring some overnight stuff into work.'

‘Ah, okay.' I tried to think if there was anything else I should ask, but Nat was distracting me by miming kissing her hand. She was so immature. ‘Thanks for… thanks for telling me. So I guess I'll see you in the office tomorrow.'

‘Great. Oh, and Poppy…'

‘Yes.'

‘Your arse has never looked better.'

He rung off before I could say anything. He
had
seen it! Bloody Rhidian.

‘Wow, you didn't tell me your competition was Dr Hottness McSexerson!' Nat squealed.

‘He's not,' I said.

‘Are you kidding me? Even if he looked like a Hobbit with herpes, that voice would be enough to get me. Just the right amount of huskiness, manly rather than boyish.'

‘You need to get out more, Nat.'

‘You've never said what evil-competition-Rhidian looks like.' Nat eyed me distrustfully.

‘Haven't I?'

I really didn't want to tell Natalie that Rhidian was
technically
quite good-looking, otherwise she'd start inventing some ludicrous fantasy about him in her head, and every time I mentioned him she'd be annoying.

‘Um, quite normal-looking, I suppose…' I said.

‘Normal how?'

‘Um, six foot two, blond, nothing out of the ordinary.'

‘Bad skin?'

‘Er, no… quite nice naturally tanned skin, actually.'

‘Weird nose? Piggy little eyes? Strangely protruding forehead?'

‘Er… no. Sparkly green eyes, normal forehead and a pretty nice nose, in fact.' I looked sheepish.

‘Poppy Penfold, you devious little wench. Why didn't you tell me this guy was a total fitster?'

‘Look, he's not a total fitster. Is he technically really attractive? Sure, I guess. But he's not my type, Nat – he's a total womanizer and he's really competitive. JR is much more my type.'

‘Did JR ask you out again yet?'

‘Not yet. We've both been super busy.'

‘Suuuuper busy,' Nat said in a serious voice, nodding her head slowly.

I stood up and threw my beanbag at her from across the room.