Chapter 28 #2
“Rumour is that they’re in deep shit because the whole thing was a giant liability. Lawsuit from one of the brand deals and several grievance reports. Also? Ofcom had over a million complaints about episode five. The bigwigs were in a tiff. Easier just to make it all disappear.”
“Really?” Peter said calmly. “Not surprised. It was…a disorganised soup.”
“Soup.” Gina laughed. “That’s one way to describe it.”
“There were a few good cro?tons on the production side. A few. I may have put a few to the side. And before I left, I got Rupert and Robert into a taxi. Made them call their mother so I could speak to her. I told her to get real and get them sorted. I wasn’t going to have their lives ruined for cheap laughs. ”
“Good for you,” Peter said calmly.
“That Kirsten woman was abusive. Her ethics were completely non-existent.”
“Misguided, perhaps,” I filled in. Like I knew what I was talking about. “Some of us are. Sometimes.”
“No excuse for exploiting fellow human beings.” Gina tutted. “Anyway.” She slapped her hands onto the table.
“I have plans. I’ve had this under wraps for a while, but now I suddenly have time as well, so I’m going to run with it. There are things I want to explore, and I think on the back of this latest…what shall we call it?”
“Shitshow,” I added. OMG. She was Gina DeSanto, and I was an addict with issues. What the hell was I playing at here? I’d brought that shitshow on myself, and now I was sat here behaving like a clown?
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” she said sternly. “Peter, sit down. I need you on board with this because I think this is where you and I can actually make a difference. You should never have been on that show. And I should have walked out the first day when they thrust that goddamn script in my face.”
“I agree,” Peter said calmly. Like he knew what was going on.
“I have a business plan, a projected timeline and ten episodes of real talk.”
“For what?” I had to ask.
“Real Talk with Gina DeSanto. The show where we blow the lid off reality TV fame and the influencing trap. Where real people tell real stories and where we fucking don’t script a fucking thing.”
“Language, Gina.” Peter. And the bloody ceiling didn’t even make a sound.
Damn it.
“What are you saying?” I had to smile. No idea what was going on here.
“I want you two in the first episode. Both of you. No script, no drama. Let’s talk, and tell it like it is. Rip the plaster off.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Last thing I heard, Kirsten was threatening to massage the statistics and allow Chloe-Catherine to win.”
“Marrying herself?” I squeaked. This was…ridiculous.
“Wouldn’t surprise me. The win was yours.
You two would have done it hands down, but we’re not going to go there.
We’re moving on, and we’re hitting back.
Hard. On a prime-time Friday night slot.
I won’t settle for less. There will be an appearance fee, and we will agree on clear boundaries beforehand.
You approve the final episode before we air anything.
From now on? I’m in charge, and I’m going to do what I want to do.
Stop taking on these insane jobs that just make me mad. ”
I wanted to agree, but now there were more footsteps and here were…
Ed. And a…shit.
“George?” Gina burst out laughing. “What the –?”
“No,” I said. “Absolutely not.”
What was this? My worst fucking nightmare? People coming at me from every angle, trying to drag me down? Back to that place where things had gone… Fuck. Next, Juliet would turn up, and my life would just be…
Dust. Just get me out of here.
“Dad. Ollie,” Ed said. Then he stared at Gina. “Hey.”
“Hi, Ed.” She grinned. “Gosh, both of you have scrubbed up well.”
“She follows me on Insta,” Cal squealed. Like it mattered.
“I know,” Ed said. “I told you, and you said it was fake.”
“Fuck.” Cal just stared into space again.
“Dad,” Ed started again, as I just stared at…
George. The floor manager or whatever. Little nerdy kid with glasses.
No spine. Frightened of his own shadow. He looked different, though, standing there in a sweatshirt and briefs, half smiling as Ed wrapped his arms around him.
Held him tight from behind and smacked a kiss on his cheek, making his glasses go all crooked.
He fixed them with a quick flick of a finger. Then grinned at us.
“This is Georgie. Any questions?”
None. I had none. And Peter just smiled.
“Hey, Georgie, nice to meet you. Welcome. There’s tea? Toast in the freezer. Feel at home.”
“George,” Gina said.
“Hi,” he said. Soft. Like he didn’t know on which of his bare feet to balance.
“I told you to check your messages. I left you two this morning.”
“I got them. I replied,” he said. Good job. Steady. I was just staring here with no idea what the plot was in this insane play.
“Ed, make your George here a tea,” Peter said calmly. Like. What on earth? “Make yourself useful. I have things to sort,” Gina filled in.
“So bossy,” Ed huffed. “How many teas?”
“Just Georgie here,” I replied, shocking myself by actually acting along here. Playing my part.
For fuck’s sake.
“So, George. Real Talk with Gina DeSanto. You in? Don’t expect a full-on role. You’re green, and we have to start somewhere.”
“Not that green,” he protested. “But yes. Perhaps. Maybe?”
“OnPoint Productions wouldn’t know how to run a production, even if they had the best people in the business on board. We start from scratch on this one. I need a runner. Full dogsbody. I say jump, you hit the ceiling. Clear?”
“Grateful.” He nodded. I was impressed. Perhaps I should take that back, the part about having no spine. His spine suddenly seemed fine.
“Also, I expect full compliance with my no-bullshit policy. You see it? You pull me up on it.”
“No problems,” he replied sternly as she nodded and pinned her eyes on me.
“Oliver. I need you to look at my numbers. I know it’s not your area of…figures. But before I go and make an absolute tit out of myself to my investors? Check that I’m not completely off track here. I’m good with most things; I just need an extra pair of eyes.”
“And me?” Cal asked, looking all excited.
“Your mum would kill me if I even got you anywhere near a studio. No can do, kiddo.”
“Ed’s a scriptwriter.” He pouted.
“Not on my watch, he isn’t,” Gina said sternly. “Your mum gave very clear instructions. If I ever dragged you into any of my projects? She was going to haunt the shit out of my arse.”
“Yet you’ve offered Georgie here a job?” Cal threw his hand out, then stared at George, like he’d suddenly realised he was actually there.
This piece of theatre was certainly getting interesting.
“Hey, George.”
“What?”
Okay?
“Good to finally meet you,” Cal said, reaching out and offering his hand. Like this had just occurred to him.
“Finally?” George looked a little taken aback.
“Your ugly mug has been Ed’s screensaver for the past year. He’s not been very discreet about it. And he refused to introduce his brother to the love of his life. I was starting to worry he’d made you up.”
And plot twist.
I laughed.
Then I laughed hysterically. And so did everyone else. This wasn’t normal. But then?
That was how…things apparently rolled around here.
For fuck’s sake.
And then? The ceiling creaked.