Kate O’Mara - Good Time Girl

‘The club is better, not so much noise.’ Snellor decided not to give her the opportunity to argue. ‘See you there then. One o’clock,’ he repeated to make sure she’d got it straight.

But Patsy was not to be put off. ‘I have to have my lunch,’ she said truculently. ‘It’s my big episode.’ Patsy was very fond of her food and the nervous tension of the studio day was the only legitimate excuse she had to indulge. Snellor sighed. He could never understand this preoccupation with food. His idea of lunch was a double vodka washed down with several of the same. One ate at night. Hugely. But lunchtime was drinking time.

‘Look, Pat –’ Snellor began.

‘Patsy,’ she corrected him again.

‘Patsy. I want this piece to do you justice.’ This was absolutely the very last thing that Snellor wanted. ‘It’s not easy to be creative when both of us are stuffing our faces.’ On reflection Snellor wished he’d phrased it more delicately, but he pressed on. ‘It’s going to be an in-depth interview – and we’ve got to set up a photo session this week, too,’ he added to distract her attention.

‘Oh right. Of course. I could manage Thursday. I’ve got a day off. Is that all right?’ asked Patsy anxiously. She couldn’t bear it if anything went wrong now.

‘S’cutting it fine, but if we do them in the morning we’ll probably just manage it.’

‘Oh good,’ Patsy breathed with relief.

‘I’ll get Phil onto it,’ said Snellor, determined now to finish the conversation. ‘Expect his call later on. See you in the club at one.’ And he put down the phone.

Patsy was ecstatic. She went straight to her wardrobe, decided at one glance that she had nothing suitable to wear and spent a blissful afternoon shopping in her local boutique.

At the lunch break the next day, she could hardly contain herself.

‘Aren’t you coming to the canteen, love?’ called out Meg, who played the wife of the McMasters’ picture restorer, George, when she noticed Patsy rushing off in the opposite direction.

‘No, I’m meeting a journalist in the club,’ replied Patsy importantly.

‘Fame at last!’ muttered Simon Lavell, who played Tom McMaster, dryly under his breath as he watched the retreating figure disappear down the corridor.

Tony Snellor was ensconced at a corner table in the club, and on his third double vodka when Patsy arrived. He waved to her in an expansive manner.

‘Could you sign the gentleman in, please, miss?’ said the commissionaire on the door in a sepulchral voice. ‘He said he was with you.’

‘Oh, yes, of course – it’s Mr Snellor, isn’t it?’

‘Don’t ask me, miss, he’s your friend, not mine.’ He sounded relieved.

Patsy carefully wrote in ‘Mr Snellor’, his first name completely eluding her. Then she sashayed over to his table, in a manner calculated to alert the attention of every susceptible male in the room. As indeed it did. Well satisfied with her entrance, Patsy seated herself and crossed her legs provocatively, exhibiting a considerable amount of thigh. Snellor was suitably impressed and mentally congratulated himself on persuading Trevor that Patsy Hall was the business.

‘Did Phil ring you?’ enquired Snellor, after he’d ordered a Martini and lemonade for Patsy at her request. She was so excited, she’d completely forgotten she had a big scene with Bella in the afternoon and alcohol was not conducive to concentration in a stressful situation in the studio. Patsy’s mind was apt to wander at the best of times.

‘Oh yes, thanks,’ she said eagerly. ‘He wants to do pictures of me relaxing at home.’ She had been delighted with Phil’s phone call, which had been fulsome to say the least. Phil had been well primed by Snellor.

‘So how are you enjoying the series, Patsy?’

‘It’s lovely. I get to wear some really great clothes, and I love working with famous people like Bella and Geoff.’ Patsy had wit enough to realize that it would be wise to keep on the right side of Bella, especially in print.

‘Good, good,’ said Snellor. ‘Got any romance going in your life at the moment?’ He tried to twinkle at her, but it manifested itself as a leer.

Patsy giggled coyly and pretended to blush. ‘Ooh no, I’m a career girl, Mr Snellor. I don’t have time for romance.’

‘Tony, please,’ said Tony Snellor, with as much charm as he could muster. ‘I find that difficult to believe, a stunning-looking girl like you – all the other ladies in the cast must have been furious when you joined the series.’

‘Do you think so?’ said Patsy, overcome.

‘Of course. What did Bella have to say?’

Patsy giggled again. ‘You’d have to ask her. She’s usually up here,’ she added looking around the room. ‘She likes a drink or three.’

‘Does she?’ Tony Snellor took out his miniature tape recorder, placed it on the table between them and switched it on. Patsy turned back, disappointed that there was no sign of Bella. Snellor took a large swig of vodka. ‘Tell me, Patsy, how do you get on with other members of the cast?’

Patsy pondered this for some time. She was longing to air her grievances to someone, and maybe if she said she was unhappy in public they would realize and be nicer to her.

‘I wish they were nicer to me,’ she whispered.

Snellor sat up. ‘I can’t believe they’re nasty to you,’ he said hopefully.

‘They are sometimes. Well, not nasty, exactly. Perhaps they’re just jealous, like you said.’

‘I’m sure I’m right,’ said Snellor. ‘I bet you have trouble with that Bella, don’t you? I mean, she must be worried by a younger, beautiful rival, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, I suppose so,’ agreed Patsy, nodding her head sagely.

‘You know, Patsy, I could do you a bit of good here,’ said Snellor, looking at her with interest. He’d just had one of his brainwaves. They didn’t happen often, but when they did, they were humdingers. ‘I’ve been watching this series and, I must say, since you’ve come into it, it’s perked up no end. I think you’ve got what it takes. But producers aren’t always so quick off the mark. But if an artist is seen to be getting a lot of publicity, that means something to them. The ratings go up and they start to build up that artist’s part. Soon she’s taken over and become the star of the series. Do you follow me?’ Snellor glanced at Patsy. Had he gone too far? No. She was gazing at him with shining eyes. He pressed home his point. ‘What I’m saying here, Pat, is, you give me the stories and I’ll guarantee to give you the publicity. It needn’t be too obvious. Just little snippets about what’s happening behind the cameras from time to time. We angle it to include a nice big picture of you. We might even put you on the cover of the colour supplement on Sunday if you come up with the right story. What do you say?’

‘I think it’s a wonderful idea, Tony!’

Full of trepidation, Claire started to get ready for her visit to the studio. It was the day of her make-up test and she was apprehensive to say the least. Her previous encounters with make-up artists had not been happy. She had only done a couple of small parts in television, and had not had the nerve to stand up for what she wanted.

‘After all, Sal,’ she had complained to her friend after an earlier disaster, ‘I know my face better than anyone else. I know what suits me. I know how to make the best of my features. I mean, I realize I’m no beauty …’

‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous, you’re gorgeous! Everyone knows that. You’ve just got to be firm; you’re too nice, that’s your trouble. Diana Barry throws brushes and things around if she doesn’t get what she wants.’