Chapter Sixteen Family Fortunes
‘Does your mum know the difference between YouTube and a TV channel?’ asks Josie one day when the travel agency is quiet.
‘I know she’s watched YouTube,’ I say. ‘So I’m sure she knows it’s not the BBC, but having it on the smart TV confuses her. Why?’
‘I was just thinking about her bucket list item to get on TV and wondered if she’d be happy with us creating a quiz show of our own and filming it. I got a board game of that show Family Fortunes and it includes the buzzer thing.’
‘She loves that show. But I don’t think she’ll be satisfied with a bargain-basement version.’
‘Oooh,’ exclaims Charlie, swirling his computer screen around. Josie and I get up to see what has excited him so much. He’s on a website about applying for quiz shows.
‘Look at this,’ he says. ‘By happy coincidence, Family Fortunes are recruiting contestants at this very moment.’
My heart sinks at the thought of Mum dragging all of us into her fantasy. I can’t imagine Dad or Zoe being delighted at the prospect either. Charlie notes the look on my face and adds, ‘I’ll do it with her — maybe I could say I’m her nephew.’
‘And I could be her niece,’ adds Josie excitedly.
It seems that Mum’s list has hit on a few things that other people want to get on board with and it took her to mention them before we all came out of the woodwork. It makes me wonder how many desires lie latent and possibly never indulged because we don’t make time for them.
We huddle around Charlie’s PC to see which other shows are listed as needing contestants. Unfortunately, Catchphrase isn’t one of them, but there is an article about how to apply for these shows. I skim it now but will read it properly when I’m at home; the writer says there’s about a one in ten chance of getting on a show, which seems like incredibly good odds to me. I realise as I’m reading this that I’m disappointed; I had hoped there’d be no chance of my mother getting selected and showing us up to the whole nation. I do know that’s incredibly unfair of me considering my post-divorce meltdown went viral online and caused the type of embarrassment I’m imagining for my own daughter.
‘I think we would stand a good chance,’ says Charlie. ‘A gay man, an Aussie and a pensioner — we’ve covered most of the bases and your mum would be hilarious as the matriarch.’
The problem is that I know she would.
‘I’ve got a brilliant idea for our application,’ says Josie.
‘And if we get it, we might be able to get audience tickets for the Mercury Travel Club members,’ adds Charlie. ‘Maybe to use in a prize draw.’
So it looks like the quiz train is rolling and it’s not going to stop.
‘Can I leave this bucket list item up to you two?’ I ask, getting only a nod because they’re both totally engrossed in how to make this happen. The little bell on our door chimes and a couple walks in.
‘I’ll, err, serve these customers, shall I?’
Charlie looks up and gives the couple a beaming smile and offers to get them a coffee. Once they’re settled opposite me with their drinks, he heads straight back to the PC and into a deep conspiratorial conversation with Josie.
Throughout the day I make good progress with the dance holidays and think I should be able to tie up the loose ends and announce the full details by the end of the week. Charlie and Josie stay in close cahoots, although their plotting is occasionally interrupted by the inconvenience of customers. However, I can see by the smiles on their faces as we close up that they believe they have this bucket list item nailed.
‘Do you think your dad would want to be on the show?’ asks Charlie. ‘There’s always a sensible one to balance the others — they can’t all be wacky.’
‘Of course, your mum would still be team captain,’ adds Josie.
As if it were ever in doubt. Sometimes, when I consider the personalities of those around me, I wonder whether Patty and I weren’t accidentally swapped at birth. She’s far more like my mother than I will ever be.
‘I honestly don’t know, but he loves a quiz and if you’re really going to do this, you may as well ask him,’ I tell them.
They clap their hands together in excitement.
‘We need five members and we have your mum, dad, me and Josie — so there’s a space for you, Angie, and you are actually family,’ says Charlie, tentatively clutching his hands together in front of him with his head tilted coyly like some naughty schoolgirl.
I know instantly which role I would play — the one who’s the butt of all the jokes. I can just picture my mother berating me on live TV because I can’t name five things you do in a tent or whatever ridiculous question would be asked. I tell them that I’m going nowhere near the stage but I will accompany the Mercury Travel Club members if they get accepted and we get audience tickets.
‘Will you at least make up the team for our rehearsal?’ asks Josie. ‘We’re going to do a little video to accompany the application.’
‘Is there really no one else you can ask?’ I plead. ‘It can’t be Patty because she might be away on the cruise when it’s filmed, but what about Peter?’
‘He’s going to be our quiz master,’ Charlie says. ‘Go on, Angie — what happened to the go-getter that took this business by the horns and made us award-winning? The one that got up on stage, got propositioned in Nice and was a complete inspiration? What would Richard say?’
As he’s speaking I’m thinking about everything I did post-divorce, and as he lists the highlights of the year, I realise that I’m still letting one person dictate my mood. And Charlie is also right — my hero Richard Branson would not be happy to see me like this. I wonder whether he gives relationship as well as business advice? I must look that up later. For now, I take a deep breath and channel the pre-Michael Angie, the one that gave it all a go. After all, nothing ventured, nothing gained. And I kind of think I have very little to lose right now.
‘Okay,’ I say, pulling myself up tall. ‘You’ve got your fifth team member.’
Charlie and Josie cheer then hug me as we bounce up and down as if we’ve won already. We haven’t even been accepted onto the show yet.
They insist on driving straight round to my parents’ house to tell Mum that we’re applying to be on Family Fortunes. I’m happy when Dad says he thinks it will be a great laugh and that we’ll need to practise. Seeing the smiling faces all around and hearing the gentle mocking of each other’s likely efforts has me grinning like that old Cheshire cat. My friends and I are lucky to have the chance to share my mum’s crazy list and we’re going to have fun doing it — or at least most of it. The application has to be in within the fortnight so our team decides that the first rehearsal will be tonight at Charlie’s house. To make it more realistic (did I really think that?) we hurriedly make some phone calls, and within the hour we have two teams: us, the actual entrants, and our competition — Josie’s boyfriend Matt, Zoe, James and his parents. Although this is only supposed to be a friendly rehearsal, I know that my mother will be raging if she loses to Yvonne and Bob.
‘I’m sorry I’m going to be missing this,’ says Patty when I get home to change. ‘It sounds hilarious.’
‘Can’t you cancel the rehearsal and come along?’ I ask.
‘Not really, Sheila has already changed her plans to make it tonight and I want to be sure we’re ready if Zach and Khai come up with any gigs.’
‘Well, it’s being recorded, so we can open a bottle and have a giggle later,’ I tell her, heading up the stairs.
‘Bo,’ says Patty as I’m mid-step. I turn to look at her quizzically.
‘It’s good to see you with a spring in your step again,’ she adds.
I just give her a big smile then take each step two at a time to prove how springy I am. Of course, when I reach the landing out of breath, I vow never to do that again.
Charlie has given us instructions on our outfits; if we ever get to be on TV then there’s a host of things we can’t wear, including stripes and blue, so we’re not allowed to wear them now. My heart often goes out to people I see on television who’ve made a real effort to wear something nice but the way that the microphone is lying or perhaps the seating position they’re forced into makes the clothes all bunch up and give them a spare tyre whether they have one or not. Underwear is also an issue. Being able to see bra straps or lines isn’t flattering either. Weather girls seem to get it right. They all seem to go for those very structured dresses that don’t look comfortable but don’t bunch up either. I’ve got quite an elegant shift dress with sleeves that would probably be perfect. I flick through my wardrobe and pull it out; it has a bit of stretch in it so won’t be uncomfy and should work well on screen. It might be too formal but I’ll give it a go and let the team decide; my mum will certainly have an opinion on what everyone is wearing and won’t want to be outshone by any of us.
And she certainly won’t be in the shocking pink mother-of-the-bride type outfit — complete with feather boa — that she’s wearing now.
‘Wow,’ I can’t help but say as soon as I walk into Charlie’s kitchen, where our competition is being held. ‘I’ve never seen you in this before.’
‘It’s new,’ she tells me with a twirl. ‘I want them to see I’ve made an effort.’
Everyone around the room has raised eyebrows and is standing staring at her... and shaking their heads in disbelief.
‘I feel I should have made more of an effort,’ says Yvonne, looking down at her jumper and jeans.
‘Oh, what you’re wearing isn’t important,’ my mum tells her. ‘It’s me the cameras will be on.’
Peter assembles each team and makes us stand either side of the kitchen island. Josie pulls out the board game she has and the crucial piece of equipment — the Family Fortunes buzzer. If we want to answer the question we have to buzz in first.
‘You’ll be disqualified if you just shout out.’ He says this to us all but is looking directly at Mum. ‘Now, are we all ready?’
We all cry ‘yes’ and Peter acts out the role of host by introducing us and getting onto the first question.
‘Name something in a lady’s handbag,’ he says in a cheesy TV quizmaster voice.
‘Fluff,’ shouts Mum, getting a snort of laughter from everyone. She looks at us all indignantly and tells us that there’s always fluff in everyone’s bag.
Peter scolds her for not using the buzzer and tells her that if she does it again she’ll be disqualified. I’m glad it’s him holding Mum to account and not me. She promises not to do it again so we once again prepare for the question. Honestly, the tension around this kitchen island is probably on par with an England penalty shoot-out.
‘Name something that makes a man look distinguished,’ Peter reads from a card he’s written.
‘A beautiful woman on his arm.’ This time it’s Bob in trouble for shouting out, but as his answer is accompanied by a chorus of ‘ahhhs’ and a cuddle from Yvonne, he doesn’t seem too bothered.
‘Okay, teams, properly this time. You do have to use the buzzer on the show so you have to get used to it now,’ Peter says firmly but gently. We all promise to behave and he clears his throat.
‘Name something you do on a second date.’ I press the buzzer quickly, getting a nod of approval from him.
‘Angie, give us your answer,’ he continues.
‘Go for a nice walk.’ I get disappointed murmurs from my team mates.
‘Sorry, Angie,’ says Peter, ‘that’s not in the top answers.’
‘It’s not her fault,’ my mum pipes up, giving me a big hug and pulling me down towards her so she can plant a kiss on the top of my head. ‘She never gets past the first.’
I cannot fault her timing and simply burst out laughing. I can’t stop, and soon the others join in. If we ever do get on this show then the Great British public will probably learn more about me than they ever wanted to.