News Where You Are

51

The new producer was younger than Martin had been. His name was Benedict and he told Frank to call him Ben. He wore narrow black-framed rectangular glasses to which his eyes seemed attached. Throughout their meeting Frank had to try to fight the impression that when the glasses came off so did the eyes. He found the image of a blank expanse of skin above the nose stuck in his mind and proved quite unsettling. Ben apologized for not formally sitting down with Frank earlier but explained that he wanted to watch the team in action for a few weeks before speaking to individual members.

‘So, Frank, I notice that the jokes appear to have dried up.’

‘Erm … yes. There haven’t been any for a few weeks.’

‘The viewers aren’t very happy about this. Quite a few have got in contact and we’ve actually already noticed a drop in viewing figures. Apparently your bon mots used to brighten up the day for many viewers.’

Frank had known this was coming. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that the man who used to write the jokes …’

Ben looked at Frank; his eyes seemed to fill their tight black frames. ‘A man? Someone used to write those jokes for you?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’d always assumed … well, I mean they seemed so … ad-libbed.’

‘Oh no, they were scripted by a professional.’

‘Right.’

‘Anyway, he’s retired, I’m afraid.’

Frank had received a short note from Cyril. He wrote that he’d decided he needed looking after for a while, something his sister had apparently been saying for the past few years, and so he had gone to live with her and her family in Bootle. He said he would be writing exclusively for his two young nephews from now on. He asked Frank if he had been to the police and gave his new address in case they needed it. He ended the note with a one-word apology, and Frank wasn’t sure what it was for: his part in Phil’s death, burdening Frank with the information or withdrawing his puns and one-liners.

Ben was nodding. ‘I see. Are you planning on providing your own jokes?’

Frank shook his head. ‘I don’t think I’d be able to do that. It takes — well, a special kind of mindset to find the humour in every situation.’

‘So are you thinking of finding someone else to write them for you?’

Frank felt his heart sink. ‘Do you think I should?’

Ben looked at Frank for a few moments. ‘Frank, do you actually like including jokes in your pieces to camera? Is it very important to your image of yourself as a presenter?’

Frank didn’t have the energy to explain to Ben about Cyril and Phil. About how this had all been foisted upon him. How it was nothing he had ever wanted, and didn’t figure at all in his image of himself as a presenter. He simply settled for: ‘No.’

Ben smiled. ‘Good.’

Frank looked up. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Let’s leave the jokes, then.’

‘What about the viewers? The drop in figures?’

‘To be honest, Frank, I’m thinking of making a few changes around here. There’s going to be a period of transition, we’ll lose some viewers, but hopefully we’ll gain new ones. I’ve just been discussing some of my ideas with Julia and I know we share a great deal of common ground, which is very exciting. From what she’s said I think you’re on the same wavelength too. I greatly respect your work, Frank. I know you’re a professional with high standards. I was just dreading having to persuade you that puns and one-liners didn’t form part of my vision for the future.’

Frank left the meeting feeling uncertain. He thought that during his time at Heart of England Reports he’d perhaps seen enough new visions for the future, enough rebrandings, repositionings and refocusings. At that precise moment in time he found the whole idea of yet another change of direction filled him only with weariness. He tried to focus on the positive: no more jokes — he should have been walking on air, but he found himself slightly sad at the prospect. At least Julia would be happy.

He looked at his watch and realized he was running late to meet Michelle, a meeting he had been putting off since learning the truth about Phil’s death. He knew he had to tell Michelle what he’d discovered, but that didn’t make it any less difficult. He’d discussed it over and over with Andrea and she thought the same. It was up to Michelle what she did with the information.

She was waiting in the bar as he rushed in.

‘I’m sorry I’m late.’

‘It’s okay — makes a change.’

He pecked her on the cheek. ‘You look really well.’

‘Oh, thanks. I take it that means I looked like a bag of dog food last time we met.’

Frank had no idea how this always happened when he tried to offer a simple compliment.

Michelle laughed. ‘It’s all right, Frank. No offence. I hope I do look better. I’m feeling a lot more myself. That’s why I wanted to see you.’

Frank was sure that it had been him that suggested the meeting. He was keen to do what he’d come to do, to just get it over with and yet now found the conversation being hijacked by Michelle.

‘Look, Frank, I just wanted to apologize about the last time we met.’

‘Apologize for what?’

‘For worrying you. For being a mental case. For talking all that rubbish about Phil.’

Frank looked at her. This was his opportunity. He hesitated a beat too long and she was speaking again.

‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last few weeks. I realize that I’d just let things get out of all proportion. I’d be mad to let just a few months cloud the happy years Phil and I spent together.’

Frank nodded uncertainly. He didn’t know what to say. ‘What about his mood swings? The erratic behaviour you were talking about?’

‘He was coming up to retirement, Frank. He was due to quit the show the following year. I wasn’t seeing things from his perspective. It was going to be a massive adjustment. Of course he’d get moody: he had to get used to the idea of putting his feet up, relaxing, letting me look after him — all the things he hated most! The transition was probably like a second adolescence for him — I mean it could have been a lot worse really.’

‘Right. Yes, I suppose that makes sense. What about that money you mentioned, though?’

‘Oh, that was ridiculous. I never had any idea what Phil did with his money. He was always protecting me from that side of things. I just seized on that £20,000 cash withdrawal when I saw it on his statement as evidence of something strange — something I was almost hoping to find. In reality it could have been anything — a charity donation, a poker game, whatever.

‘And yes, I know, the hit and run. To be honest, I still think it’s a bit odd, but the point is that odd things happen sometimes. I’m not going to waste the rest of my life cooking up crackpot conspiracy theories. I was thinking about it all and I suddenly had this crystal-clear vision of myself in ten years’ time on one of those daytime shows — you know, “Thinks her celebrity husband was killed by Mafia” scrolling under my name. You can convince yourself of these things. Once you get an idea in your head everything can be made to match that theory. Well, why can’t the theory be nice? Why can’t I now build on the idea of all the happy years Phil and I spent together instead of trying to concoct something out of a few bad days and a load of supposition?’

Frank envied Michelle. He wished very much that Cyril had never told him. He thought about Phil, of how much he had loved Michelle and wanted in his strange way to protect her. He thought perhaps some knowledge was overrated. He looked at her and answered, ‘No reason at all.’