Catherine O'Flynn - News Where You Are

Frank got off on the wrong foot with Suzy from the start. In their first week presenting together she had regaled him with story after story from the good old days, most of which he had heard before. After telling the Telly Savalas story she concluded in a studiedly wistful way, ‘I often think of how of all the cities in the world something, something perhaps we’ll never understand, drew an international superstar of the stature of Savalas to Birmingham, and, well, I suppose in a funny way, to me.’

In retrospect Frank realized that the required response was to say that it had been kismet, or some mysterious transatlantic catnip operating on the bald-headed actor, but instead he said, ‘I suppose desperate times, desperate measures. Kojak was axed the year before. He did Telly Savalas Looks at Portsmouth and Aberdeen as well. He would have advertised Don Amott caravans if they’d have had him.’

Despite his best attempts to make amends it was clear that Suzy always considered Frank a very poor substitute for Phil and altogether lacking in old-world charm. After a few years of working together she opted to go part time and remained as one of the seven-strong presenting team, usually doing the early morning bulletins. Julia maintained that Suzy’s continued presence was due more to her devotion to Sally Anne’s pearl studs than to her career.

After Suzy there was Nicki, who was smiley and petite and in a short space of time became very popular with viewers. She had a natural warmth and vivacity that burned through the screen, and after Suzy’s hauteur Frank found her a joy to work with. Because of her popularity Nicki received a particularly large number of invitations and requests for PAs, which she showed no inclination to decline. The weekly society page of the local paper rarely failed to carry a picture of Nicki at a charity dinner, or the opening of a new restaurant, or an awards ceremony for industrialists. As the months passed, she became less petite, her brightness seemed to fade and her slips whilst reading the autocue became more regular. Frank remembered the day he finally reached across and pushed the lift button for her rather than have everyone watch her struggle to control her shaking hands. She resigned due to ill health after just four years.

After Nicki came Lisa, who Frank had found strangely absent and had a hard job remembering much about. She had worked on the show in pre-sofa days and the producer thought the fact that she was taller than Frank was disconcerting for viewers and so had her sit on a lower seat. Lisa never really forgave the producer or Frank for that. She stayed for two years before moving on to become sole anchor woman of the early evening news on a satellite channel. She was now enjoying, as far as Frank could tell, all the benefits of a full-height chair.

After Lisa was Joy, fondly remembered by all, even Frank’s mother, but who moved regions after only a few months. She was followed by the equally short-lived Erica, who collected lizards and was dismissed after an incident involving cocaine, the sports correspondent and the disabled toilets. And then finally Julia arrived.

He looked at his watch and wondered where she was now. He could do with some advice on how best to answer his mail. He gave up on the Oddbins sighting and moved on to the next one:

Allcroft, the programme would be a hundred times better if you were not on it. You are not funny. I like it best when you are on holiday. Also, how do you get a job in television?

He was uncertain about the last line. From the tenor of the mail he could assume that it was meant rhetorically, with the emphasis on ‘you’. But maybe it wasn’t. The ‘also’ suggested to him another tack, an unrelated point. He’d once sent as full and helpful a reply as he could to the request, ‘Where do you get your ties?’ Only to receive the response: ‘I was joking, you wanker. They make me want to be sick.’ He remembered Julia had laughed at that, for what he had thought had been an unnecessarily long period of time. As he sat and thought, a new mail appeared in his in-box and he opened it:

Dear Mr Allcroft,

I don’t know if this mail will find you or if you will have time in your busy schedule to read it. My name is Sidney Craven and I am currently enrolled upon a ‘Silver Surfers’ course at my local library which is trying to teach me and some other seniors how to use the world wide web. I think the teacher is finding it a bit of a struggle. It took us a long time to get the hang of the mice.

Last week we learned how to send email. To be honest I can’t see what use that will be as I don’t have a computer and don’t know anyone else who does either, but I think it’s good to keep the mind active and learn new things. Anyway I see your email address every evening on the telly and I don’t know if that’s just a gimmick but I thought I would try anyway.

My wife Margaret died late last year but we used to watch Heart of England Reports every evening together. She was a fan of yours and particularly enjoyed your jokes. She also thought you had a lovely smile. You reminded her of someone she used to know when she was younger and every night without fail she’d say: ‘Oh, he looks just like Charlie Stoker. I wonder if they’re related.’ Well, she had a real bee in her bonnet about it and would go on and on. Sometimes she’d say, ‘I’m going to write to the programme and ask him,’ and I’d say, ‘For goodness’ sake, Margaret, they’ve got better things to do with their time than answer silly questions.’ If I’m honest I was a bit short with her because I didn’t like her always mentioning this Stoker chap. It was jealousy I suppose as I’d never met the man, but I know that he had been sweet on her before I came along.

Anyway Margaret’s gone now and she never did write, but when I watch the programme I always feel as if she’s still sat on the settee next to me. So I thought I’d send an email and maybe you would read it and I could tell you about Margaret and ask if I may: are you related to Charlie Stoker? If you send an answer, I’ll get the teacher to print it out and then I can put it on the sideboard next to Margaret’s photo. I think she’d like that.

Yours faithfully,

Sidney Craven

Frank sensed that someone was behind him and looked to see that Julia had arrived at work and was reading over his shoulder. They looked at each other briefly.

Julia rolled her eyes. ‘So this Charlie Stoker looked just like you?’

Frank nodded and said, ‘Apparently.’

Julia shrugged. ‘That would explain why she ditched him for old Sidney.’

Michelle was caught up in a discussion with her producer, so Mo excitedly dragged Frank around the Tough Love set while they waited.

‘Dad, look, look, this is the Mirror of Truth. That’s what Michelle calls it. When the people look in this, they see themselves the way other people see them.’

Frank frowned. ‘Isn’t that what all mirrors do?’

‘Yes, but this one’s really big! Michelle gets the people to stand in front of it in a bikini so we can see where they are fat and she tells them what she honestly sees and they cry. That’s the tough-love bit — but at the end they come back and stand in front of the mirror again, but now they have new hair and new clothes and intelligent underwear and they cry again, but this time because they’re so happy.’

‘ “Intelligent underwear”? What’s that?’

Mo shrugged. ‘I don’t know exactly. I think it might have a computer in it. It stops the fat escaping.’

Mo stood in front of the mirror and turned slowly with a crazed expression of ecstasy. ‘Tough love has turned my life around!’ she said, clapping her hands together.