How to Get Ahead in Television

by Sophie Cousens

  Then, half an hour later, as we were working away, I got an email from across the office.

  TO:

  FROM:

  SUBJECT: You

  You look nice today, Penfold.

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  I didn’t know what this meant at all. Was he trying to make me feel better? I was wearing skinny grey jeans and a sequined T-shirt – nothing out of the ordinary. I replied: thanks. In the office, he kept talking to Jude and I about work things, but then half an hour later, another email:

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: You

  Are you cross with me, Dangermouse?

  JR

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: You

  No! I’m not cross with you. What makes you say that? I made your coffee just the way you like it and everything…

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: You

  Good. So do you want to come to dinner with me tonight?

  JR

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  What was going on? Why was he being so nice? Was this sympathy? Whatever it was, there was something quite exciting about sending secret emails across the office that no one else knew about.

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: You

  That’s probably not a good idea. I might throw myself at you again.

  Best to limit your exposure to drunken galumphing Tinkerbell and just deal with professional trying-to-be-a-good-runner Penfold.

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: You

  Maybe I’ve decided I like drunken galumphing Tinkerbell…

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  I looked up and caught his eye. This didn’t feel like sympathy any more; this felt like something else.

  ‘Are you all right? You’ve gone bright red,’ said Jude.

  ‘Yes, I’m just a bit hot. It’s hot in here isn’t it?’

  ‘Not really,’ said Jude.

  I nipped to the loo to try and de-flush my cheeks. I hated the fact that I blushed so readily. Easily overwhelmed cheek capillaries were my kryptonite. Back at my desk, another email from JR:

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: You

  So are you coming tonight or not, Dangermouse?

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: You

  I can’t tonight, I have plans.

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: You

  No you don’t.

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: You

  Don’t you have a girlfriend…?

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: You

  I’m just asking you to grab some food after work, Dangermouse. Stop being a pain.

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  FROM:

  TO:

  SUBJECT: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: You

  Pain, am I? Okay, I’ll come. But no booze for me. Sensiblemouse.

  RealiTV – because a real workforce makes real TV!

  STEP 24 – IDEAS, IDEAS, IDEAS

  FROM: POPPY

  TO: NATALIE

  JR wants to have dinner tonight. No idea what is going on. Do you think it’s an intervention about my drinking??!

  FROM: NATALIE

  TO: POPPY

  NO! He had weekend to think + realized was idiot 2 turn u down – now is keen like runner bean! OR was just waiting for u 2 b sober 2 make a moooooove…

  JR DIDN’T MENTION anything else about dinner until the end of the day, when he sent me another email saying: See you in reception, I’ll be five minutes. I obediently went to wait for him downstairs. My phone kept beeping as Nat sent me a constant stream of emoji wedding dresses and thumbs up.

  ‘Hey, Poopy,’ said Mel as I came out of the lift.

  ‘Hilarious, Mel. I don’t know how you think up these witticisms.’

  ‘Do you know where Rhidian is this afternoon?’ Mel asked, trying to make it sound like a casual enquiry.

  ‘Probably saving more dogs in distress somewhere. I thought you’d know?’

  ‘We don’t live in each other’s pockets,’ she snapped.

  Just as I was wondering what else I could talk to Mel about, JR came out of the lift and walked purposefully past me and out of the building.

  ‘Gotta go, bye, Mel!’ I said, scooting out behind him.

  JR was pacing off up the road, so I ran to catch up.

  ‘This is all very cloak and daggers,’ I said, out of breath.

  ‘Not really, Penfold. Right, do you fancy Thai or Mexican? I know a great little Mexican on Charlotte Street.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  JR asked for a table downstairs, right at the back in a dark corner.

  ‘It’s quieter down here,’ he explained.

  I looked at the menu, working out what I could afford if we ended up splitting the bill.

  ‘Have whatever you like, Dangermouse,’ said JR.

  I had no idea whether this was a date or not. I’d obviously totally misread the signs last time, so I didn’t trust myself to interpret what was going on here.

  ‘James, I’m so sorry about Friday… and about how I was on the phone when you called me on Saturday… You caught me at a bad time…’

  ‘Stop apologizing so much, Penfold, it’s not becoming. I never apologize.’

  We sat in silence for a moment, surveying the menu.

  ‘Are you seeing Kel O’Shaunessy?’

  I don’t think I’d planned to say that, I just thought it and then accidentally said it out loud.

  ‘Who told you that?’ JR asked, looking a bit thrown.

  ‘Just people. People said you were dating her.’

  ‘I was dating her,’ JR said, signalling the waitress to come over. ‘We’ll have a bottle of Viognier, please, and some sparkling water.’

  The waitress wrote down our drinks and said she’d come back for the food order. JR studied the menu in silence, not offering up any more information.

  ‘So you’re not seeing her any more? What happened?’ I asked.

  ‘You are very nosy, aren’t you, Penfold?’

  ‘I’m just asking…’

  ‘Let’s just say, you need a lot of time and resources to date a celebrity,’ he said.

  ‘Ooh, was she a real diva?’

  ‘Poppy, it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me to tell you anything about her, would it?’

  ‘Roger that,’ I said, gauging that this was probably all the information I was going to get regarding JR’s relationship with Kel O’Shaunessy.

  ‘Sha
ll I order for you, Penfold? I know what’s good here.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. No one had ever ‘ordered for me’ before; how delightfully old-fashioned, the kind of thing James Bond would do.

  ‘So, do you think What Do They Know? will get commissioned based on that run-through?’ I asked.

  ‘I hope so,’ he said. ‘It would be nice to produce one of my own ideas for once, rather than delegating it to people who don’t know what they’re doing.’

  ‘You come up with a lot of show ideas, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s the only way to make money, Penfold. There’s no money in TV unless you come up with the ideas. Ideas, ideas, ideas, preferably internationally resaleable ideas – remember that.’

  ‘I’ve got a quiz show idea,’ I said.

  ‘Oh yes?’ JR looked at me with amusement.

  ‘It’s called “Bank My Bonus”. It’s basically a quiz show, where the prize is the equivalent of someone in the audience’s bonus. So contestants have to work out who they think earns the most. It’s all about perceptions and impressions of what you think people earn.’

  JR was quiet for a minute.

  ‘Poppy, that’s actually a really good idea. You should write that up.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. In fact, ITV are looking for a high-jeopardy quiz show; it could fit the bill perfectly.’ He turned to look me straight in the eye. ‘Not just a pretty face then, Dangermouse.’

  I blushed and held the menu a little higher to cover my cheeks.

  ‘I’ll help you if you like – show you how to present the idea for pitching?’

  ‘That would be great, thanks.’

  The waitress returned with our drinks and JR gave her our food order.

  ‘So that’s me finished on What Do They Know? now,’ I said, curious to know why I’d been moved off the production so suddenly.

  ‘Yes, it’s a great shame, Poppy. Sadly we’ve run out of pilot money, so I’ve been forced to lose you and Alan for the last few weeks.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ I was relieved it was a question of money and he hadn’t asked for me to be transferred for lack of professionalism. ‘So how did you get into telly?’ I asked, changing the subject. ‘Were you ever like me, an ambitious little runner?’

  ‘I was never like you, Poppy. I wouldn’t have the energy to be as permanently excitable as you are.’

  ‘I am not excitable.’

  ‘You’re like this little bird who’s just hatched, looking around at the world, instantly wanting everything. Your whole generation is like that.’

  ‘I am nothing like a baby bird.’

  JR’s eyes twinkled with humour. ‘Having said that, I wish I’d been as confident as you when I was a runner. Confidence gets you a long way. People remember you.’

  ‘I don’t feel confident,’ I said. ‘I often feel like I don’t know what to say to people. Rhidian is so good at it, he meets people on production and it’s like he’s their best friend after two minutes. I just don’t have that skill.’

  ‘Oh, I think you do, Poppy,’ JR said. ‘You should have seen me when I was your age: I was the brooding, silent type – not exactly what people want in a runner.’

  ‘So what did you do? How did you get your first production job?’

  ‘I came up with a show idea the company wanted to buy, then insisted they gave me a job on it.’ JR exhaled, a long, slow breath. ‘TV isn’t made for introverts; you have to adapt if you’re someone like me. The only way I’ve managed to keep working is to make myself indispensable.’

  ‘Ooh, this looks good,’ I said, as a selection of little dips and finger foods arrived and were laid out in front of us.

  ‘I ordered you a little bit of everything. I thought you were the kind of person to get food envy if you saw me eating something that looked better than yours.’

  ‘That is exactly what I’m like,’ I said, helping myself to some tortillas and guacamole. ‘So you really see yourself as an introvert?’

  ‘Yes, I need to be alone to think. My best ideas happen when I’m surfing – just a board, a whole load of sea and me. I find it harder to think when there are too many people around, too much talking.’

  ‘You surf? Wow, cool. Where do you go?’

  ‘Anywhere. Most weekends I drive to the coast if I can. I’ve got this old van with just enough room for a surfboard, a mattress and an old kettle. That’s pretty much where I live during the summer.’

  ‘That sounds very romantic,’ I said. ‘Do you take your girlfriends with you?’

  JR laughed. ‘Most of the girls I’ve dated wouldn’t be seen dead sleeping in my stinky old van.’

  I definitely wouldn’t mind sleeping in the back of JR’s stinky old van. Maybe I could take up surfing and become a surfer girl, and we could go on road trips together…

  As the evening went on and I learnt more about JR, I quickly built up a detailed fantasy of how life with JR would play out. We’d live in London for a few years, both working in TV, then we’d get a cottage down in Cornwall and live off the format fees from all the great ideas we’d come up with. I’d probably start writing some sort of movie screenplay and he’d surf all day thinking up more brilliant ideas. He’d come in from the sea and I’d have some elaborate tea prepared, with cakes to rival Mary Berry’s (the perfect sponge to cream ratio). Everyone in the village would be all, ‘Oh, yeah, we know James and Poppy, they are soooo creative and glamorous, but soooo down to earth considering how successful they both are, and wow, their children are beautiful, aren’t they?’ And then we’d find some lovely woman in the village to babysit our beautiful children, because we’d need to fly to America for the Oscars, and in my acceptance speech I’d say: ‘And none of it would have been possible if it hadn’t been for the support of my gorgeous husband, James’.

  ‘Poppy?’ JR nudged me.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘What were you thinking about. You were miles away.’

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ I blushed.

  After dinner, walked me back to Goodge Street tube, taking my hand as we walked. The feel of his hand against mine made me instantly aware of every atom in my body. I wanted to turn to face him, to see if he felt it too, but I didn’t trust myself to move.

  ‘You’re pretty good company, you know, Penfold,’ he said, ‘when you’re not totally off your face.’

  ‘Hey!’ I protested, but as I turned to show righteous indignation, JR took my face in his hands and kissed me – a long, hot, sensuous kiss. He pulled away, but kept his body close to mine as we stood in the dimly lit alley near the Tube. He looked down into my eyes.

  ‘I was wondering what that would be like,’ he murmured.

  I stared up at him, heart pounding.

  ‘Have I finally managed to render you speechless, Dangermouse?’ he said, kissing me again.

  After a few minutes he pulled away and stroked a lock of hair away from my face, tucking it gently behind my ear.

  ‘You’re very pretty, you know, Penfold.’ I looked down at my feet. ‘You are – a classic beauty. Very Botticellian.’

  ‘Botti–who?’

  JR smiled. ‘Are you going to be okay getting home? Do you want me to get you a cab?’

  ‘No, no…’ I stammered, trying to disguise how flustered I was feeling. ‘This is really easy for me. Woo-hoo for the Jubilee and Northern lines!’ I gave a little thumbs up. (Why was I doing a thumbs up?)

  ‘Okay. Goodnight, Dangermouse.’

  STEP 25 – HAVE A FINANCIAL CONTINGENCY PLAN – TV WAGES CAN BE TOUGH TO LIVE ON

  AS I SKIPPED into work the next morning, my mother called me. I decided to take it – nothing could dampen my mood this morning, not even my mother.

  ‘Hi, Mum!’

  ‘Poppy, I’m glad I caught you. Now, how was your date with Ian?’

  ‘It wasn’t a date, Mum, and it was fine. He said I wasn’t qualified to work in banking and I was much better off trying to make a go of it in TV.’

  ‘Did he no
w?’ My mother sounded sceptical. ‘And how did you get on… you know, besides work? You used to be so close as children, you know.’

  ‘He’s a nice guy, he was very helpful. Oh, while I think about it, can I borrow two hundred quid?’

  ‘What for, Poppy? Not drugs?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. No, Nat’s mum has asked me to start contributing some rent money while I’m staying at their house, ’cause otherwise she was going to let the basement out to a lodger. I’m a bit short. It would just be a loan until payday.’

  ‘Hmmm, and what’s the long-term plan, Poppy? You can’t stay in Natalie’s parents’ basement for the rest of your life, can you? I just don’t know how you’re ever going to sign a lease when you’re living such a mouth-to-hand existence.’

  ‘Hand-to-mouth,’ I corrected her.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The expression is hand-to-mouth, not mouth-to-hand. Look, it’s fine – it’s just a temporary arrangement. If I get this job, I’ll have more security and I’ll be able to move out into a house share or something.’

  ‘And what happens if you don’t get this job, young lady?’

  ‘I will get the job, Mum. Honestly, everything’s going really well at work. Yesterday one of the producers told me that I’d come up with a really good idea for a show and he thinks I should pitch it to ITV.’

  I bit my lip. That wasn’t exactly a lie; JR had said that, but perhaps my statement about getting the job was a little on the optimistic side. I wondered how my mother would react if she saw Rhidian’s little chart of my various failures.

  ‘So you think they’ll give it to you?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Hopefully.’

  ‘And if they don’t?’

  ‘Well, I guess I’ll try and get something else in TV, at another production company.’

  ‘But if you don’t get this job, Poppy – and I don’t want to be negative – but maybe you don’t have what it takes to make it in such a whimsical industry?’

  ‘It isn’t whimsical, Mum. Look, my generation are never going to have a “job for life” like yours. I read some article in the Telegraph about how the average person my age will have at least five different careers in their lifetime.’