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Authors: Jilly Cooper

Tags: #General, #General & Literary Fiction, #Fiction - General, #Television actors and actresses, #Television programs, #Modern fiction, #Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), #Cabinet officers, #Women Television Producers and Directors, #Aristocracy (Social class), #Fiction

Rivals (61 page)

BOOK: Rivals
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    When they'd all got drinks, Declan gave them a brief progress report. 'You needn't be too disheartened by our abysmal showing today. Elsewhere things are looking good. The most dramatic bit of news is that Mid-West have pulled out. They can't raise the cash evidently, so their Geography master will

    probably never get to London now.' He grinned. 'This means it's a two-horse race just

    us and Corinium.'

    Everyone was wildly excited by this information, except Rupert. Two two the rivals now, he thought bitterly. Why did everything remind him of Taggie?

    'I've also heard off the record that the IBA have had at least three thousand letters from local organizations pledging their support for Venturer,' Declan went on. 'Tony was also supposed to appear on a programme on Radio Cotchester this week, with me and the West of England man from the IBA, but he's backed off because he claims a programme interspersed with pop records is not the right vehicle for serious discussion, i.e., he's got cold feet.

    'The story's been leaked to tomorrow's papers. Finally Ladbroke's make us five to four on today, so we're on our way."

    'So am I,' said Freddie, going towards the door.

    Rupert followed him. 'Where are you going?'

    'To a meetin',' said Freddie, looking shifty.

    'With Mrs Vereker?' said Rupert. 'For Christ's sake be careful. Sarah Stratton rolled up at my house in hysterics the other day, saying James had been told to back off and concentrate on Lizzie, as they're going to make this marriage series together.'

    'I know,' said Freddie. 'Makes fings very difficult. That's why Lizzie and me's meeting up here.'

    'It's a bloody good story,' said Rupert. 'Corinium presenter ordered to give up his presenter mistress and concentrate on his wife in order to win franchise. The Scorpion would adore it.'

    'No!' said Freddie, appalled. 'It'd hurt Lizzie, and hurt her kids to have their father's name plastered all over the papers.'

    'Frederick, dear,' said Rupert patiently, 'it's a good story, I said. It'll discredit Corinium and make a complete mockery of the marriage programme if everyone knows it's a sham. D'you want to win this franchise or not?"

    Freddie shook his head stubbornly. 'Not if it 'urts Lizzie. Anyway, you're barking up the wrong tree, mate. Fact that Tony's told James to drop his mistress and concentrate on making his marriage work will only score Brownie points with the IBA. Besides, if the papers start sniffin' round James, they might easily cotton on to Lizzie and me.'

    Rupert sighed. 'If Declan and I can behave ourselves, I can't think why you can't.'

    As soon as Freddie had gone, the Bishop and the Professor, who was clutching a huge whisky in one hand and a vast plate of smoked salmon sandwiches in the other, closed in on Rupert.

    'Could we have a word?' said the Bishop.

    'We're a bit concerned about Freddie Jones,' said the Professor with his mouth full.

    'Charming chap, of course,' said the Bishop smoothly. 'Definitely one of nature's gentlemen, but a little bit of a rough diamond.'

    'Rough diamonds are a consortium's best friend,' said Rupert lightly, but there was a deterrent steeliness about his eyes.

    'Ha, ha,' said the Bishop heartily. 'However, as I was saying, Crispin Graystock knows several members of the IBA who we'll be meeting on the 29th. I myself am not unfamiliar with quite a few of them either. Mrs Menzies-Scott is an old friend, and of course I've exchanged views with the Prebendary. We just feel that Freddie Jones is not quite the right vehicle to put Venturer's message across.'

    'What d'you mean, vehicle?' snapped Rupert. 'Freddie's not a van!'

    'Well, someone who talks about Lord Reef and Cafflic converts and refers to Tony Baddingham as "a fug" -' delicately the Professor mimicked Freddie's accent 'and

    extols the joys of "miking vast sums of money", will hardly go down very well with the IBA.'

    To be frank,' said the Bishop, 'poor Freddie can hardly string a sentence together.'

    'Freddie is a star,' said Rupert furiously. 'He's far the most genuine person Venturer's got. He runs one of the most

    successful companies in the country and he's got the common touch.'

    'A very common touch,' said the Professor, stuffing two more sandwiches into his face and gargling them down with a huge slug of whisky.

    'All we're suggesting,' said the Bishop soothingly, 'is that Freddie Jones may be very much at home on the shop floor, with businessmen, even with the press, but not with the clergymen, academics, ladies of the Women's Institute and senior statesmen he's going to encounter on the 29th.'

    'We feel very strongly that he should stick to technical specifications, take more of a back seat and perhaps take a few elocution lessons,' added the Professor.

    'I know an ex-actor who lives in Will-is-den,' said the Bishop, taking Rupert's stunned silence as assent, 'who's worked absolute miracles with somewhat -er

    provincial young curates, who have difficulty taking services and giving sermons."

    'I've never heard such a bloody awful idea in my life,' exploded Rupert. 'D'you want to castrate Freddie, to take away all his spontaneity and bounce? And coming from two jumped-up ex-grammar school boys who talk about "Willis-den", and "substantial involvement" makes it all the more laughable. Do you want Freddie to talk like a fucking toastmaster?'

    'I beg your pardon?' thundered the Bishop, turning puce. 'And for someone who calls himself a Christian and another a practising socialist, you're both a bloody disgrace,' added Rupert.

    'I hope you'll withdraw that remark,' spluttered the Professor, showering Rupert with whisky-soaked crumbs.

    'Sausage rolls, anyone?' said Cameron, coming over and shoving a plate between them. 'What on earth's the matter!' 'The Bishop and the Professor have just pointed out that Freddie is a social embarrassment to Venturer and should take some elocution lessons,' said Rupert furiously and stalked out of the room.

    It took all Cameron's and, later, Declan's tact to calm the Bishop and the Professor down. Both threatened to resign, demanded Rupert's resignation or at least most humble apologies, and were only placated by a large and very expensive dinner at the Gay Hussar.

    It was two-thirty in the morning before Declan got home to Penscombe, but he found Taggie still up laying out apples in an upstairs spare room. With all the bills flooding in, it might be all they had to live on soon.

    'How did it go?' she asked.

    'Awful, but Hardy Bissett says it's always ghastly to begin with. He'll knock them into shape. Billy Lloyd-Foxe turned up.'

    'Is he nice?' said Taggie.

    'Enchanting,' said Declan. 'Exactly the right kind of person to calm everyone down. With the last fence in sight, they're all getting incredibly twitchy.'

    Then he told Taggie about Rupert's row with the Bishop and the Professor.

    'Rupert was right. Poor Freddie,' said Taggie indignantly.

    'He was not,' said Declan. 'Winding up other members of the consortium at this stage is insane. Keeping the Bishop sweet is absolutely crucial. Rupert was flip and obstructive the whole way through the meeting. I don't know what's got into him, or how poor Cameron puts up with him.'

    It was poor Cameron now, reflected Taggie grimly.

    'She was fantastic at the meeting,' Declan went on, with unexpected warmth. 'The more I see of her, the better I think she is. In fact all the moles distinguished themselves, even Sally Maples, once she got over her nerves. And Charles keeps everyone's spirits up. And Billy, as I said, just has an enchanting personality, which is bound to endear us to the BA. I hate to sound over-confident -' he reached over and touched the skirting board 'but

    if we don't do anything bloddy silly between now and December, our chances of getting the franchise must be good.'

44

    

    In the first week in November Tony Baddingham called a press conference. He looked on top of the world, the scarlet poppy in his buttonhole adding just the right note of concerned sobriety to offset the hedonistic effect of a splendid Los Angeles suntan.

    He had been in LA, he told the waiting army of reporters and cameramen, to sign up a brilliant new woman programme controller who would start in the new year.

    'Assuming you win the franchise?' asked ITN.

    There's no doubt about that,' said Tony smugly.

    'Is she better than Cameron Cook?'

    'I have no doubt about that either,' said Tony even more smugly.

    He went on to say that Corinium had set aside sixteen million pounds next year for new programmes and pledged to have 'an even fresher and more responsible approach to covering the region'.

    'The old fox is up to something,' muttered the Mail on Sunday. 'He didn't get us here just for this crap.'

    'What about advertising?' asked the Observer.

    'Revenue may be down,' Tony replied smoothly, 'but so is the advertising revenue of all the ITV companies.'

    It had been a bad summer for advertising, he explained, because the weather had been so good, but this had boosted Corinium's leisure interests, so shareholders could expect excellent mid-term results in December.

    'Why weren't you prepared to face Declan O'Hara on Radio Cotchester?' asked the Scorpion.

    'Because Corinium prefer to rest on their laurels and not indulge in vulgar abuse and -' Tony lowered his voice, so the journalists had to crane forward to catch what he was saying 'Declan

    O'Hara might not have been quite so happy to face me had he been aware that I know everything he's been up

    to.'

    'Here it comes,' said ITN, as Tony very slowly got out a cigar and made a great play of cutting off the end before

    lighting it.

    'Declan O'Hara,' he went on slowly, 'has been poaching my staff. This summer he enticed Cameron Cook away, but as early as May he had signed up my sales director, Georgie Baines, my religious editor, Charles Fairburn, and my finest news reporter, Sebastian Burrows. I'd like also to warn the BBC, London Weekend, and Yorkshire Television, that Billy Lloyd-Foxe, Harold White and Sally Maples -' Tony enunciated the names particularly carefully so all the journalists could get them down 'are

    also signed up and poised to move to Venturer in the most unlikely event of them winning the franchise.'

    There was a stunned silence.

    'How the hell did you find all this out?' asked the Mail on Sunday, almost sent flying by the unseemly dash for the

    telephones.

    'I wouldn't be chief executive of Corinium if I didn't know everything that was going on in my own company,' said Tony grimly, 'and I intend to keep it that way for many years to come. Unlike Venturer,' he added dismissively, 'whose security is even worse than MI5.'

    For twenty-four hours Tony left the three Corinium moles to sweat, and the whole Corinium building in a turmoil of rumour and speculation. James Vereker, for one, was absolutely furious on initially hearing the news. How dare Declan

    ignore him and sign up Charles, who was nothing but a fat drunken fag, or Seb, who was infinitely junior to James in the newsroom, or Georgie, of whose longer eyelashes James was inordinately jealous? Then James's fury turned to pleasure, as he realized that all three moles would be for the high jump. He even gave several interviews to the nationals, saying he was utterly disgusted by their disloyal, uncaring behaviour, and that he felt huge sympathy for Tony Baddingham in his hour of desertion.

    James was therefore not the only member of Corinium's staff hanging round the newsroom waiting for fireworks the following morning, after word whistled round the building that Tony had sent for Georgie Baines. Seb was demented with worry, thinking of the loan he'd wheedled out of his bank manager for a new Ferrari. Charles could only take another gulp of claret and think greyly of his five-figure overdraft and the mortgage he'd just taken out on a tumbledown cottage near Penscombe.

    Half an hour later Georgie Baines staggered into the newsroom making agonized faces and clutching his bottom as though he'd just been given twelve of the best. Then, very slowly, he drew the latest Corinium Company Report out of the seat of his trousers, then roared and roared with laughter.

    'Tony gave me an absolute bollocking,' he told his amazed audience, 'said if I have any more dealings with Venturer, he'll sue me for breach of contract, but it's made him realize how much I'm worth to Corinium. So he's doubled my salary, and made me Deputy Managing Director so

    you better all behave yourselves, my darlings.'

    'Oh, how sweet,' said Daysee Butler, bursting into tears.

    'You're not joining Venturer then?' asked Seb.

    'Not for the moment,' said Georgie. Then, rubbing his hands, 'And now that I'm deputy MD I'm going to start getting heavy. Off with his head!' he yelled, pointing at a very discomforted James Vereker. 'And don't you go giving any more interviews to the press about me and disloyalty, you little twerp.'

    Muttering about being seriously misquoted, James bolted of the newsroom, whereupon everyone cheered and started opening bottles to celebrate.

    Seb was summoned ten minutes later and received more of less the same treatment.

    Tony's sending me to the New York office for six months

    I me out of the way,' he said. Then, if I behave myself, I can come back. I suppose it's better than the sack."

    'Much, much,' said Charles Fairburn, draining his bottle d. Feeling vastly relieved that he wasn't going to be out on his ear, Charles too obeyed a summons from above.

    'Mea culpa,' he said in mock seriousness, winking at Miss Madden as he sauntered into Tony's office.

    Five minutes later he was back in the newsroom, trembling like a great white blancmange. Everyone stopped their revelling.

    'Whatever's the matter?' said Georgie, who'd been tangoing in and out of the desks with Daysee Butler.

    'I've been sacked,' whispered Charles. 'On the spot, and he's not giving me any redundancy money because I was warned three times.'

    Over at the BBC, at London Weekend and Yorkshire Television, Billy Lloyd-Foxe, Harold White and Sally Maples, all ashen and trembling and mindful of their overdrafts and their dependants, denied any involvement with Venturer and were all suspended from programme-making pending further investigation, and warned that the most tenuous contact with Venturer would mean the sack.

    Venturer's fast diminishing kitty was faced with paying both his and Charles's salaries. Seb would have no difficulty finding another job, but, at fifty-one and a notorious piss artist, Charles was far more of a problem.

    Venturer, meanwhile, had been thrown into complete pandemonium. On the afternoon of Tony's putsch, Rupert, Freddie and Declan met up at The Priory.

    'There must be a countermole, or how could Tony have found out all these things?' said Declan. Freddie, however, was scrabbling under Declan's desk. Then he took Declan's telephone apart.

    'Bugged,' he said bleakly. 'I'll get my men in at once to sweep the room and check all the phones. It's possible the 'ole place is bugged. They'd better do your phones as well, Rupe.'

    Declan was appalled. 'Christ knows how much Tony has found out, then.'

    'If he smashes Venturer, he finks he'll get Cameron back,' said Freddie. 'I said we was dealing with a villain. He's out to bury us.'

    'But how the hell did his men get in here to bug the telephone?' said Rupert. 'The dogs would frighten anyone away, and there's always someone in the house.'

    As Taggie was out doing a dinner party in Cheltenham, Declan sent for Maud. 'Has anyone called to check the telephones lately?" he asked.

    'Yes,' said Maud, 'someone from British Telecom came last Friday; such a delightful young man. He said his mother's favourite opera was The Merry Widow. He heard me rehearsing and made me sing the Vilja song over and over again.'

    'What was he doing here?' asked Declan wearily.

    'His department had been notified that we'd been overcharged, so he was checking all the telephones to see if they were using up too many units,' said Maud beaming. 'He said they might be able to give us a rebate. I quite forgot to tell you.'

    Declan put his head in his hands.

    'How long was he here?' he groaned.

    'About three hours,' said Maud.

    Rupert and Freddie exchanged glances of horror. If it hadn't been so terrible, it would have been funny.

    That was your bugger,' said Rupert.

    'D'you mean to say all that time he was bugging our house?' said Maud indignantly. 'And I gave him three cups of tea with sugar and a Penguin.'

    'I'm sorry,' sighed Declan after she'd gone, 'I'm not making excuses for her, but I don't think it's quite as simple as that. Tony knew about all the moles, but I've never rung Billy on this telephone. Rupert's always been the one to get in touch with him. And because I was ultra-conscious of security, I've always made a point of directly contacting all the moles from a callbox outside Penscombe, so the calls couldn't be traced back. Anyway, if the telephone was only bugged last Friday, I rang everyone about the dry run before that. I've got a horrible feeling someone tipped Tony off.'

    'All right,' said Freddie, sitting down heavily on a lot

    of tapes, 'let's go through the list of possibilities. Taggie

    was working at Sarah Stratton's a fortnight ago and the

    Baddinghams and the Verekers were both there.'

    'Don't be bloody silly,' snapped Rupert, who was pacing

    up and down the room. 'Of course it's not Taggie. She's

    entirely responsible for all those letters being sent to the IBA

    and what the fucking hell's she got to gain by leaking secrets

    to Tony?'

    Freddie raised his eyebrows. 'No need to overreact. She could have just let somefink slip to Sarah over the dishes.'

    'And how d'you know the Verekers and the Baddinghams were at the Strattons the other night?' said Rupert, still furious. 'I suppose Lizzie told you. Lizzie's much more likely to have told Tony.'

    'Lizzie's nothing to do with us,' said Declan irritably. 'Do

    keep to the point, Rupert.'

    'Lizzie's something to do with Freddie,' persisted Rupert. 'You could easily have talked in your sleep.'

    Freddie turned dark red. 'There's nuffink going on there.'

    'Hum,' said Rupert.

    Declan looked disapproving. 'Is there?' he said icily.

    Freddie shuffled his feet. 'I'm very fond of Lizzie. I haven't told her anyfing.'

    Declan then admitted that Maud had told him Caitlin had been out once with Archie Baddingham, but they were just a couple of kids, and he was quite certain Caitlin knew nothing of importance. Anyway she was back at school now.

    'Caitlin knows everything,' said Rupert. 'She doesn't miss a trick, and she might easily have seen Sally Maples or Harold.'

    'They've never been to the house,' said Declan. 'I suppose one of the moles could have turned countermole.'

    'More than their life's wurf,' said Freddie, shaking his head. 'If they shopped us, they automatically shop themselves. Georgie is the only one it might have been, and he was far too upset when Tony broke the news yesterday. I expect Tony's got the thumbscrew on him now, getting the rest of Venturer's secrets out of him.'

    'What about Maud?" said Rupert. 'She's always hanging around with Monica.'

    'When did my wife ever take the slightest interest in the franchise? She doesn't know a thing,' said Declan bitterly.

    'Valerie's got a soft spot for James Vereker,' suggested Rupert.

    Freddie sighed. 'Valerie's like Maud, simply not interested.' 'Much as I'd like to suspect the Bishop and Professor Graystock,' said Rupert, 'they're far too motivated by greed and self-interest to shop us, and the same goes for Marti.'

    'Not if Tony made it worth their while,' said Declan. 'I wouldn't rule them out.'

    'Well, Basil's in the clear,' went on Rupert, 'and I honestly think Wesley and Henry are too thick, or in Wesley's case too spaced out to remember anyone's names anyway. But I suppose they're possibilities.'

    'Everyone's a possibility,' said Declan bleakly, 'and finally there's Cameron. She's my choice. I've had my doubts about her all along.'

    'Balls,' said Rupert irritably. 'She's far too obsessed with us winning the franchise and, since she came back from Ireland, with making movies with you.'

    'And frankly,' said Freddie, 'she's far too smitten by our

    Rupe.'

    When Declan said nothing, Rupert protested: 'Cameron's got a lot of faults, but she's basically honest. That's why she so loathed carrying on with Tony and Corinium while she was sleeping with me.'

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