‘We want to develop a new reality show.’
I felt my spirits fall. ‘Reality show?’
‘For the over-fifties. There’s a whole new market out there for—’
‘People my age?’
‘Exactly. We call it the Second Marigold Hotel market.’
‘You mean the Saga Louts? The Silver Surfers? You’re right, they’re finally being acknowledged.’
‘I know. The over-fifties have money, they read books, they watch TV, they go to the movies, the theatre. People are cottoning on that there’s a whole generation that are only just beginning to be catered for in the media in the last decade.’
‘And where would I fit in?’
‘Ah, well, that’s the question.’ He laughed. ‘We haven’t actually got an idea as yet. That’s why we were talking about you. If you could come up with something that would appeal, you of course could front the series.’
‘OK. So what kind of areas were you thinking about?’
Gary finished off his tarts, then combed the crumbs out of his beard with his fingers. ‘Something that hasn’t been done before.’
I laughed. ‘No pressure there then. Isn’t that what everyone’s looking for?’
‘It is, but I remember working with you. You were never short of ideas and often had more than the production team you were working with.’
‘You know I’m no longer at Calcot?’
‘I had heard. Idiots to have let someone like you go.’
‘I knew there was a reason I liked you.’
‘So, how about it? Have you got other commitments yet?’
‘Honestly, nothing. I could lie and say I had offers coming out of my ears, but the truth is, I haven’t.’
‘Well, that’s great news. I’ll send you over a brief but truth is, we haven’t got much so far. All I can tell you is we want something upbeat, an angle to draw in our more mature viewers, something relevant to that time of life. You still with your agent Nicholas?’
‘I am.’
‘I can sort out the details with him.’
‘Sounds great.’ I looked down at my half-eaten croissant. ‘And here was me thinking I could have one of these. If I’m to be fronting a show again, these will have to go.’
‘You look great. Too thin, if you ask me. Have a tart as well. They’re truly excellent.’
‘I’ve got an idea for your show. Love Island for older folk who like their food. We could call it Love Handle Island.’
Gary laughed so hard, he spat coffee.
‘Or Bus Pass to Love Island, for the over-sixties?’
Gary laughed again. ‘I knew I could count on you.’
‘How soon do you need realistic proposals?’
‘Next few weeks. We’d like to get started as soon as possible. So are you in?’
‘I’m in.’
I couldn’t wait to get started. I felt as if I’d been given a shot of adrenalin and, as I left the café, my mind was already firing off ideas.
I went straight round to see Nicholas at his office, which was in the basement of his house.
‘Sounds promising,’ he said, after I’d made a fuss of his shepadoodle Atticus and filled Nicholas in on my meeting with Gary. ‘Any ideas so far?’
‘No serious ones. First I thought I’d have a look at what’s been done so far. I googled on the way here. Gary was right. It has all been done. I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here, Big Brother, talent shows, cooking shows, health shows, travel shows, Strictly. How about a version of that for the elderly?’
‘With zimmer frames? Strictly Come Hobbling for people who’ve had knee and hip replacements.’ Nicholas screwed up his face. ‘Dating shows? Naked Attraction for the elderly? Can you imagine?’
I screwed up my face. ‘I’d rather not.’
‘OK, let’s think about this. You’re the age that they want to attract, so what’s important to you at this time of life? What concerns you? People your age?’
I sighed. ‘I remember turning thirty and feeling that I was old then, and now …’
Nicholas held up his palm. ‘You’re as young as you feel. We don’t need figures.’
‘Priorities change as you get older, don’t they? Elderly parents, looking after them and losing them, sometimes divorce, seeing some friends battle with illness, some lose that battle, others coming to terms with becoming empty-nesters or grandparents.’
‘What about for you?’
‘Presently my main concern is: will I ever work again? Finances. How much I might need to survive depending on how long I live. It’s weird to think about how much I might need if I live to ninety, or that maybe it would be better if I popped off before.’
‘Cheerful. It would help if when we’re born we got a date of issue and a date of expiration.’
‘Like a driving licence.’
‘Programme about finding work in your fifties?’ Nicholas suggested.
‘Sounds dull. Gary said he wanted uplifting. What about a makeover show? Everyone loves a good before-and-after programme.’
‘Like Queer Eye for the Straight Guy? Hard to top that.’
‘Or what about Snog, Marry or Avoid for the elderly? We could call it Medicate, Resuscitate or Pull the Plug?’
Nicholas eyes twinkled. ‘What you have to do, Sara, is really get into the mind of a fifty-year-old,’ he said with a grin.
‘If I can remember how that was. Gary still thinks I’m in my fifties.’
‘No one need know you’re not. What I mean is – you’re the target market. Come on, think. What is relevant? Sex? Men? Relationships? Cooking? Gardening? Retirement?’
We sat in silence for a moment.
‘I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew,’ I said.
‘Sleep on it, dear Sara. You have a few weeks.’
I left the office with my mind in a spin, generating and rejecting ideas one after the other as I tried to rise to the challenge of creating the next big thing. Did I still have it in me and why had I agreed to come up with the impossible so quickly?
Chapter Nine
Ally
Present day, November
Philippa had stayed over with me in the week following Michael’s death. ‘I can stay longer,’ she said as she made coffee one morning. ‘John can bring me some more clean things over.’
‘Look, I have to get used to it some time, plus he must
