Cameron took special trouble with her appearance, wearing a new very waisted red silk suit with padded shoulders, a very plunging neckline and an extremely short skirt. This was because she was meeting Rupert’s best friend, Billy Lloyd-Foxe, for the first time. He’d been away making a film on rugger for the BBC for the past three months and Cameron was determined to make a good impression. She needn’t have worried. Billy came up to her straight away with that famous smile which had been described as ‘able to beam into millions of homes without the aid of satellite’.
‘Hullo, gosh, I’ve been longing to meet you,’ he said, kissing her. ‘I’m mad about “Four Men went to Mow”. Janey’s taped all the episodes for me. It’s exactly how Rupe and I used to carry on before we were married. It was just starting in Australia when I left, and being marvellously received.’
He was extremely attractive, Cameron decided. His light-brown hair had gone greyer and he’d thickened out since his show-jumping days, but he had such a young face, and his turned-down eyes were so merry you didn’t notice the broken nose or the doubling chin. He also had a sweetness and an air of life being hilarious, but at the same time a little bit too much for him that had endeared him as much to the BBC viewers as to everyone in the sporting world. Janey was mad to mess him around, thought Cameron. She wondered if that was why Bas wasn’t here today.
Rupert and he seemed to know each other so well, they slipped into familiarity like a pair of old bedroom slippers, arguing about horses, finishing each other’s sentences, howling with laughter at each other’s jokes. It was nice to see Rupert happy again, thought Cameron. His fuse had been very short since she got back. She suspected, although he denied it, that he hated being in opposition — a shadow minister of his former self.
‘When you come back to Penscombe, we’re bloody well going to start a racing stable,’ Rupert was saying in an undertone.
‘I thought we were going to run a television station,’ said Billy.
‘We are, but with the revenue coming in, we’ll have access to a hundred and twenty-five million a year. Just think what we can do with that.’
‘Good God,’ said Billy in amazement. ‘Christy may be able to go to Harrow after all. I must have a drink.’
At that moment Declan tapped a large mahogany table in the centre of the room and asked everyone to sit down on the row of chairs lined up on the opposite side.
‘Where’s the bar?’ asked Rupert.
‘No one’s having anything to drink until we’ve finished,’ Declan said firmly.
Wesley’s face fell. Billy turned pale. ‘What is this, a concentration camp?’
‘Concentration — ’ Declan smiled thinly — ‘is what we’re after tonight. If you’re all swilling booze and getting up to get each other drinks, you won’t take in what I’m saying. There’s Perrier if anyone wants it.’
‘Now I know why it’s called a dry run,’ said Billy sulkily. ‘Come and sit by me,’ he said to Cameron, patting a chair. ‘At least I can cheer myself up gazing at your legs.’
Cameron looked like a cross between Joan Collins and Donald Duck, Billy decided, frightfully glamorous but somewhat high-powered.
‘I’m frightfully hungry. Can we at least ring for some sandwiches?’ said Professor Graystock, deliberately pressing against Cameron’s breasts and having a good look as he leant over to pinch one of Billy’s cigarettes.
‘Later,’ said Declan.
Billy, Harold White, Seb Burrows, Georgie Baines and Sally Maples, the children’s editor Declan had recruited from Yorkshire Television, then jumped out of their skins when an unknown man in spectacles with a crew cut and a purposeful expression walked in.
‘It’s all right,’ said Declan soothingly. ‘This is Hardy Bissett. He used to work for the IBA and knows exactly what sort of questions they’ll ask us at the interview. He’s going to drill us over the next few weeks.’
‘Who’s that turgid old crone in the portrait over the mantelpiece?’ Billy whispered to Cameron.
‘Virginia Woolf,’ whispered Cameron.
‘I’d do anything to keep her from my door!’ said Billy. ‘What did she do for a living — belly dancing?’
‘A fine writer,’ said Professor Graystock reprovingly.
Declan found Hardy a chair beside him on the other side of the table. Then he said, ‘The IBA meeting, as you all know now, is fixed for 29th November. The good thing is that Corinium’s meeting is the afternoon before, so there won’t be any problem for those of you who have to go to both meetings.’
Everyone jumped again as a fat man waddled into the room wearing a stocking over his head, waving a blue plastic toy gun, saying, ‘This is a shoot-out.’
Then he peeled the stocking off with a broad grin and said, ‘Boo!’ It was Charles Fairburn.
‘Oh, for fock’s sake, Charles,’ exploded Declan. ‘This is serious. I was just explaining that ours and Corinium’s meetings are on different days, so you won’t bump into Tony and Ginger Johnson coming out of the IBA as you go in. But please think up excuses to be out of the office on the 29th well in advance. We want as many of you there as possible.’
‘Are you sure no one will see us?’ asked Sally Maples nervously. ‘We’ve all been threatened with the sack again this week.’
‘So have we,’ said Billy.
Declan shook his head. ‘All you have to do is to drive into the underground garage at the back of the IBA — you needn’t go near the front at all — and you’ll be whisked up to the eighth floor.
‘By now,’ he went on, ‘the IBA will have digested our applications and answers to the supplementary questions, and noted our performance at the public meeting. They will obviously have some idea as to whom they want to award the franchise. But have no doubt, the interview on the 29th is key. Just as important as a viva to an undergraduate taking finals.’
‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ murmured Billy.
‘I’m now going to hand you over to Hardy,’ said Declan, sitting down, ‘who’ll take you through the dry run.’
Hardy Bissett, despite his bristly crew cut, had an air of officialdom which unnerved them all. Getting to his feet, he tapped the table with a biro: ‘This is exactly the kind of table you’ll sit along during the interview, except the IBA table is oval-shaped. Facing you will be the twelve members of the Authority, with Lady Gosling in the centre. None of them know anything much about television. They are worthy public figures, academics, business people. One of them, Mrs Scott-Menzies, for example, is the ex-Chairman of the WI. Another used to run the Post Office. Another is an ex-Labour Minister of Education. Yet another, whom I think you’ve come across, Declan, is the Reverend Fergus Penney, a disgusting old goat who was once a Prebendary of the Church of England.
‘It is essential for you to memorize all their names. All important people in their own field once, they tend to be vain and enjoy recognition. Behind them during the meeting will sit half a dozen officials who work for the Authority, who know
Billy mopped his brow. ‘It sounds most alarming,’ he sighed.
‘God, that man’s disgusting,’ thought Rupert, as Professor Graystock pinched yet another of Billy’s cigarettes.
As if reading Rupert’s thoughts, Hardy Bissett said, ‘One of the crucial things at the interview is to appear to like and admire each other and prove you are not merely a star-studded bunch after a quick buck, but actually capable of forming a workable and amicable team. As you will be sitting in an almost straight line and will not be able to catch each other’s eyes, it is also crucial to work out in advance who will field what questions. Freddie perhaps should answer any technical questions, the Bishop should deal with religion, Dame Enid with music, Charles the arts, and so on.
‘It is also vital that everyone has their say. One excellent consortium lost the breakfast franchise a few years ago because their chairman, a newspaper editor, answered all the questions quite brilliantly, thereby convincing the IBA that they would be too much of a one-man band.
‘All right.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Enough waffle. To begin with I’ll fire questions directly at individuals. Later on in rehearsals we’ll get to the stage when I can fire a question in the air, and the appropriate person will leap to answer it. Now remember, the interview will last at least an hour.’
‘I won’t if I don’t get a drink,’ grumbled Billy.
‘Shut up,’ snapped Hardy Bissett. He turned to Henry Hampshire. ‘I’m interested to know why as Lord- Lieutenant you decided to join the Venturer consortium?’
