fuck!’ she said, giving an audible gasp, as did Sylvia.
‘It’s live, please don’t say “fu...”’ I started.
‘Oh God, stop... no. Oh yes, yes,’ she cried, looking almost tearful.
‘Wonderful,’ I said. ‘So that’s a yes. Thank you, Bella, I’m so looking forward to this...’ But I’d already been cut off, and when I looked at the screen Bella was now talking about ‘swollen fruits’ in her Christmas pudding like she hadn’t just said the F-word live on air.
I put down the phone, feeling slightly uncomfortable about what I’d just done. It wasn’t in my nature to be so forceful, so assertive, but anger was driving me – I just kept thinking about my mum and the people of St Swithin’s. I’d also thought about the Neils and Bellas of the world, who’d hurt me and left me behind without even looking back, and felt justified. I was determined to turn the tables for once and make some of my own demands on behalf of me and my mum, who’d always been a doormat for the likes of Bella’s family.
‘You bloody dark horse,’ Sylvia said, hugging me like I’d just run a marathon (I felt like I had). ‘I don’t know what that was all about, I bloody love you right now. Beatrice is going to have a heart attack when she finds out and the residents are going to think they’ve won the lottery. I don’t believe it.’ And after mauling me into another bear hug she preceded to jump around the postage-stamp size office like a woman possessed. Fortunately Paul Watkins wasn’t around to film this - or the moment the TV fell off the wall.
Later that day I received a call from Crimson. ‘Lucky girl,’ she started, sarcasm dripping down the phone. ‘A car will pick you up at your home tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. and bring you to Dovecote – it’s only about twenty miles, so you should be here by 7.30. It will take a couple of days to film, so bring something to wear. Bella’s looking forward to a big old catch-up.’
I bet she is, I thought, and so am I. ‘That’s good, because there’s a lot to talk about,’ I said, and put down the phone. I immediately texted Sylvia to confirm it was all happening, then I texted the kids, who said ‘Go Mum!’ (Jamie) and ‘OMG that’s fantastic! What are you going to wear?’ (Fiona). I hadn’t even had chance to think about clothes – perhaps it was time to treat myself to a couple of TV outfits after work?
I wandered around the local retail park that evening, fighting with frenzied Christmas shoppers just to find something to wear. I wanted something understated but colourful to wear for my TV debut, but it wasn’t easy amid the mass consumer panic. I couldn’t concentrate on shopping, I just kept wondering how Bella would greet me after all these years. What would the dynamic be? If the phone call was anything to go by I reckoned she might push my face in one of her ‘naughty’ custard tarts! Whatever happened, I couldn’t wait to see Bella Bradley unplugged, in her own home without cameras and make-up. Perhaps under all that slap and botox I’d be able to dig deeper. Who knows, I might find my old friend in there somewhere?
7
Baubles, Bangles and Baileys
T hat evening after I’d eaten supper I looked outside the kitchen window and through the darkness was a light sprinkling of snow. I held my mug of tea and wondered what the next few days would bring.
I was still looking out onto our tiny lawn when Fiona called my mobile; ‘I rang because I’m really excited for you, but I’m worried too, Mum. I hope you get there safely in the morning, before the snow sets in,’ she’d said.
‘A professional driver’s taking me, I’ll be fine.’
‘Has the snow made you sad, Mum?’ she asked, which was probably the real reason for her call.
‘Yes, I’m a bit sad, sweetie, but I’m fine.’ The snow always made me sad, because it reminded me of the worst day of my life.
I’d been fifteen when my auntie had woken me on a cold, December
‘It’s live, please don’t say “fu...”’ I started.
‘Oh God, stop... no. Oh yes, yes,’ she cried, looking almost tearful.
‘Wonderful,’ I said. ‘So that’s a yes. Thank you, Bella, I’m so looking forward to this...’ But I’d already been cut off, and when I looked at the screen Bella was now talking about ‘swollen fruits’ in her Christmas pudding like she hadn’t just said the F-word live on air.
I put down the phone, feeling slightly uncomfortable about what I’d just done. It wasn’t in my nature to be so forceful, so assertive, but anger was driving me – I just kept thinking about my mum and the people of St Swithin’s. I’d also thought about the Neils and Bellas of the world, who’d hurt me and left me behind without even looking back, and felt justified. I was determined to turn the tables for once and make some of my own demands on behalf of me and my mum, who’d always been a doormat for the likes of Bella’s family.
‘You bloody dark horse,’ Sylvia said, hugging me like I’d just run a marathon (I felt like I had). ‘I don’t know what that was all about, I bloody love you right now. Beatrice is going to have a heart attack when she finds out and the residents are going to think they’ve won the lottery. I don’t believe it.’ And after mauling me into another bear hug she preceded to jump around the postage-stamp size office like a woman possessed. Fortunately Paul Watkins wasn’t around to film this - or the moment the TV fell off the wall.
Later that day I received a call from Crimson. ‘Lucky girl,’ she started, sarcasm dripping down the phone. ‘A car will pick you up at your home tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. and bring you to Dovecote – it’s only about twenty miles, so you should be here by 7.30. It will take a couple of days to film, so bring something to wear. Bella’s looking forward to a big old catch-up.’
I bet she is, I thought, and so am I. ‘That’s good, because there’s a lot to talk about,’ I said, and put down the phone. I immediately texted Sylvia to confirm it was all happening, then I texted the kids, who said ‘Go Mum!’ (Jamie) and ‘OMG that’s fantastic! What are you going to wear?’ (Fiona). I hadn’t even had chance to think about clothes – perhaps it was time to treat myself to a couple of TV outfits after work?
I wandered around the local retail park that evening, fighting with frenzied Christmas shoppers just to find something to wear. I wanted something understated but colourful to wear for my TV debut, but it wasn’t easy amid the mass consumer panic. I couldn’t concentrate on shopping, I just kept wondering how Bella would greet me after all these years. What would the dynamic be? If the phone call was anything to go by I reckoned she might push my face in one of her ‘naughty’ custard tarts! Whatever happened, I couldn’t wait to see Bella Bradley unplugged, in her own home without cameras and make-up. Perhaps under all that slap and botox I’d be able to dig deeper. Who knows, I might find my old friend in there somewhere?
7
Baubles, Bangles and Baileys
T hat evening after I’d eaten supper I looked outside the kitchen window and through the darkness was a light sprinkling of snow. I held my mug of tea and wondered what the next few days would bring.
I was still looking out onto our tiny lawn when Fiona called my mobile; ‘I rang because I’m really excited for you, but I’m worried too, Mum. I hope you get there safely in the morning, before the snow sets in,’ she’d said.
‘A professional driver’s taking me, I’ll be fine.’
‘Has the snow made you sad, Mum?’ she asked, which was probably the real reason for her call.
‘Yes, I’m a bit sad, sweetie, but I’m fine.’ The snow always made me sad, because it reminded me of the worst day of my life.
I’d been fifteen when my auntie had woken me on a cold, December
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