Beaumont Brides Collection by Liz Fielding

outpourings he always had been.
    ‘Oh, I do understand. And I would really love to come to the studios.’
    ‘Don’t expect too much,’ Fizz warned, with a small laugh that might have been of sheer relief that it had been so easy. ‘Actually, we’re recording some episodes of “Holiday Bay” this morning at about eleven-thirty, I thought perhaps you’d like to sit in?’

    Another squeak of pleasure, an offer to send a car for her at eleven and her mission was accomplished.
    *****
    Melanie Brett, fresh as a May morning and twice as pretty caused a minor sensation as she walked along the pier, stirring the heart of every male lucky enough to have decided to go fishing that morning.
    Fizz, watching for her arrival from her office window, had seen the easy way she stopped to sign odd scraps of paper thrust at her, perfectly happy to chat with perfect strangers. The girl was a natural and worth twice her weight in listening figures. Her fingers itched to ring the advertising agencies and tell them about her prize. Instead she hurried down to the foyer to greet her visitor.
    ‘This is so kind of you, Miss Beaumont,’ Melanie said, shaking hands with a convent school politeness that reminded her painfully of herself just a year or two younger, eager, wide-eyed and utterly innocent.
    For a moment Fizz felt a twinge of conscience at her deviousness then realised that the innocence, at least, had to be an illusion, although the girl was certainly as young as she looked. Then there was another feeling. Alien and uncomfortable. A feeling that she couldn’t identify, or perhaps didn’t want to admit to.
    She buried it under a warm smile.
    ‘Actually I have to admit to an ulterior motive in asking you to come to the station. Since you arrived in town everyone has been dying to know what your plans are. I wondered if you might be prepared to sit in on a radio phone-in later? It would give your local fans a chance to ask you a few questions. Only if you would like to, of course.’
    ‘Oh, I love phone-in programmes. But I should really ask Luke.’
    No you shouldn’t, she wanted to scream at the girl. You don’t have to ask anyone. Be your own person. Don’t let him take you over and break you apart so there’s nothing left.
    Instead she kept a polite smile fixed to her lips. ‘You could telephone him from my office if you like?’ She held her breath and hoped his instruction to his secretary to say that he was unobtainable for the rest of the day included Melanie. It didn’t seem likely.
    ‘Phone Luke at work!’ Melanie looked horrified. ‘Lord, no. He’s always so busy and he hates being dragged out of meetings.’ Fizz could well believe it. And she doubted if he kept his feelings to himself. ‘And if I don’t ask him, he can’t say no, can he?’ Melanie giggled.
    ‘That’s true.’ And perhaps because of the sudden relaxation of tension Fizz giggled too. ‘I’ll introduce you to Andy Gilbert later.’
    ‘Oh, I’ve heard him. He’s really good.’
    ‘He’s certainly very popular with our female listeners,’ Fizz said, dryly. ‘If you’re not too busy perhaps we could all have lunch together and you can discuss what you’re prepared to talk about. He’ll field anything difficult, after all we do want you to have fun.’
    ‘Oh, I will,’ Melanie answered. ‘It’ll be my first public appearance since I arrived in England.’
    ‘Then we’re very honoured. I would have thought you’d have been snapped up by the chat shows the minute you set foot here.’
    ‘Oh, there are some booked,’ she said, vaguely. ‘In a week or two I think. But radio is such fun.’
    ‘You’ve done a lot? In Australia?’
    ‘I’ve been a guest on a few shows, you know the sort of thing. Music and chat. I haven’t done any drama myself, but my mother used to take me along sometimes when she made recordings.’
    ‘She’s an actress too?’
    ‘Was.’ The girl’s face clouded momentarily. ‘She died last