What Happens in France

by What Happens in France (retail) (epub)

  It seemed logical to her and his concern was appreciated. ‘Sure. That makes sense.’

  He kissed her on the forehead. ‘I’d really like to throw you over my shoulder and march you downstairs, shouting, ‘I’ve found a woman!’

  ‘Would you really?’

  ‘Or you could carry me over your shoulder. I’m not sexist.’ He kissed her again, this time on the lips, before pulling away.

  She returned the smile he gave her and slipped on kitten-heeled black shoes that complimented her red and black dress.

  ‘Wow! You look every inch a winner,’ he said.

  ‘You’ll have to stop giving me compliments if you want to keep this quiet. People will soon suspect.’

  I told Donald he looked nice in his kilt. Didn’t mean I fancied the pants off him.’

  Bryony laughed then drank her coffee in one, stuffed the croissant in her bag for later and grabbed his arm in hers. ‘Ready, partner. Don’t want to be last down.’

  Outside, an over-exuberant pug was prancing around his master’s feet. Biggie was sporting a new multicoloured jumper and a tiny fedora hat.

  Oscar hopped excitedly from foot to foot, narrowly avoiding stepping on his dog. ‘I’m so excited I could explode,’ he squealed.

  ‘Hold the bus. Wait for the winners to arrive,’ yelled Lewis as he and Bryony bustled outside.

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ said Jim good-naturedly.

  ‘You don’t stand a chance, mate,’ replied Lewis, patting Oscar on the shoulder as he eased past him and stepped over Biggie. ‘I have Brainy Bryony on my team.’

  ‘And I have Ingenious Jim,’ Oscar replied, a gleam in his eyes.

  ‘Touché! So, it’s anybody’s game. May the best team win.’

  They climbed onto the minibus, and in an atmosphere soaked with excitement and tension, they pulled away from Hotel Petit Château.

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later they arrived at their destination. They passed through a pair of magnificent wrought-iron gates and down a lengthy drive, accompanied by the sound of gravel crunching under the tyres of the minibus. Bryony caught a glimpse of the Château du Torquet as the sweeping drive opened out onto a vast lawned area behind which stood an imposing building, fifty times the size of the one they had been staying in. She gasped in amazement, a sound echoed by her fellow passengers as one by one they feasted their eyes on the château facing them. The grandness of the building was all-encompassing, the sheer size of it was impressive.

  Oscar was the first to break the stunned silence. ‘Wow! That’s like the Palace of Versailles. It’s humungous. I wonder how many rooms are in it.’

  ‘At least forty or fifty,’ said Lewis.

  Jim nodded in agreement. ‘It’s a superb seventeenth-century example of design and architecture. I’d love to bring Cathy here. I can’t wait to see what’s inside. Do you think they’ll let us take photographs, Oscar?’

  ‘We can always ask Laura. I’ve got my camera with me. I’ve been using it to take pictures of Biggie since we arrived. Maybe they’ll let us use it inside. If so, I’ll take some photos for you to show Cathy.’

  Bryony spoke up. ‘There are about thirty black vans with blacked-out windows lining the drive. It’s like some sort of major political convention has tipped up. Judging by the activity around them I’d say they belong to the film crew.’

  Oscar’s excitement was mounting. He clutched the headrest of the seat in front of him and stared outside. ‘There are so many people. How many does it take to film a quiz show?’

  ‘Unless there’s something else going on as well as the filming, I’d say about a hundred. It’s so exciting! All of a sudden I feel like a celeb.’ Bryony clapped her hands together, eyes wide. Lewis picked up on her enthusiasm.

  ‘It makes you feel really important, doesn’t it? All those people just for the four of us.’

  The minibus pulled to a halt in front of the château and its doors slid back automatically. The contestants began to disembark, scrabbling for their bags as they left their seats and stumbled off the minibus in a daze where they were met by Roxanne.

  ‘Hi, everyone. It’s a bit mental at the moment. We’re still setting up. You wouldn’t believe how complex it is to film in a place like this. We have cables and lights and technicians everywhere. We’ve completely taken over four of the rooms with our kit.’

  The group trailed after her into the huge entrance and stood while several members of the film crew, dressed identically from top to toe in black, weaved around them carrying stands, boxes, coils and other mysterious objects. Once the kerfuffle had abated, the contestants travelled in single file along a dark tiled hallway and into a cavernous room with enormous windows affording a superb view of gardens, magnificent stone fountains and flower beds befitting of the estate. Mattie had set up camp in here, her palettes of make-up and brushes spread out on a cloth on a large wooden table. The far wall was filled with a freestanding clothes rail containing ironed shirts and suits of various colours for Professor Potts. She faced an enormous gilt-framed mirror and was busy applying liberal amounts of make-up to a pasty-faced Potts.

  ‘Morning, contestants. Hope you’re all on form today and didn’t glug too much wine last night.’

  ‘Once you left, the party ended,’ Jim replied. ‘Oscar and I turned in for the night.’

  ‘Yes, apologies I couldn’t stay for dessert. Roxanne and I had to get back to the hotel to go through today’s agenda.’

  ‘I slept like a log,’ said Jim. ‘I must say, the wine we had at dinner was excellent. I fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow.’

  Mattie stood back to admire her handiwork. Potts swiftly removed the white cloth protecting his bright blue shirt and, with an airy wave of his hand, dismissed her without thanks.

  ‘I’ll see you all later. I have to do my introductory pieces to camera. My, you do all look delightful. And Bryony you are positively glowing today,’ he added, his eyes appraising her. ‘Looks like you had a very good night’s sleep.’

  Bryony could sense Lewis’s hackles rising. She thanked Potts and, summoned by Mattie, slipped into the vacated seat to have her hair styled. The others waited their turn in awed silence, admiring the ornate furnishings in the room.

  Once ready, Bryony waited in the corridor for the others to join her which brought back memories of her schooldays and Melinda. She wondered how her friend was getting on without her. It was strange not to be able to talk to her. Although they didn’t chat every day, she’d never been out of contact like this for so long. She thought about her parents and hoped they were both alright then comforted herself in the knowledge that had anything awful happened, Melinda would have phoned the crew’s emergency number and got hold of her. Melinda was the sister she’d never lost and she loved her. In spite of that, Bryony sighed and wished with all her heart she could have prevented Hannah from running away. She had no way of knowing if this crazy adventure had been successful and people were looking for Hannah. All she knew was she wanted to win and have another opportunity to ask everyone watching the show to assist. There would be new viewers who hadn’t yet heard her story and one of them might know something. This was probably going to be her last opportunity to put right the past.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  FRIDAY, 28 JULY – MORNING

  ‘Right, if you could all follow me and watch out for the cables,’ bellowed yet another man in black. With his headset and microphone clamped to his head, he resembled some strange alien. Bryony was having trouble working out who was who. With similar fork-shaped beards and short dark hair they all looked similar.

  The contestants trooped behind him into the château restaurant used by the public on open days. Pots of coffee stood on a long, wooden table pitted with knotholes. Laura was looking youthful, dressed in snug-fitting black trousers and a loose, lacy black top. Her long, dark hair scraped back into a shining ponytail enhanced the impression of youth and took ten years off her face.

 
; ‘Morning, everyone!’ she said in a breezy voice. ‘Excited? It is going to be hugely enjoyable, so come on, teams, let’s get some energy going! Roxanne will run through the rules for today and then you’ll be getting your microphones and packs fitted and head off to be filmed.’

  Roxanne came forward. ‘These next challenges are going to be really easy, fun rounds all filmed here over the next two days. Today, we’re set up in the Gallery Room where you’ll take part in a general knowledge quiz consisting of one hundred questions. Professor Potts will start with an introduction to the château then invite to you to say a little about yourselves once more, in case some of our millions of viewers don’t know who you are yet,’ she added with a grin. ‘He’s got all the information we gathered from you when we interviewed you on Skype plus whatever he found out about you over the last few days and at dinner last night. He might, for example, say, “I understand you have a famous dog, Oscar?” and you’ll be able to talk about Biggie Smalls.’ She scanned their faces to ensure they all understood. ‘Then the actual quiz will begin and he’ll ask you one hundred general knowledge questions. You buzz in when you know the answer. First pair to buzz in and answer correctly will win the point. It’s all very simple. Enjoy it, be yourselves.’

  ‘Remember, plenty of energy, people,’ Laura added.

  ‘Energy,’ whispered Lewis to Bryony. ‘We’ve got stacks of it.’

  ‘Okay, the techies will make sure you have discreet microphones. They’re not the same as the ones you’ve been wearing on past challenges. However, like those, these are switched on at all times, so once again, don’t speak if you’re not being spoken to and no swearing. You must all be dab hands at this by now.’

  Bryony recognized some of the young men from the days before, now dressed in black shirts and black jeans. They unplugged wires from packs and deftly threaded them through clothing, reattaching them to sound packs. A young man with a small goatee beard and black-framed glasses dropped a wire down the back of Bryony’s top but struggled to attach the pack.

  ‘You’re too tight,’ he chided. ‘I can’t get it in,’ he continued, causing Oscar to snort loudly.

  A man with three days’ stubble, huge dark patches under his eyes and the look of a man who was being hassled, entered the room and rubbed his hands together.

  ‘Morning, folks,’ he called. ‘I’m Terry. I’m what they call the floor manager, which is just a title for “stressed bloke who needs a fag”. No doubt you’ve been told already but please watch out for cables. They are everywhere and some are hidden under raised covering. Try not to stare at the cameras. It’s different filming inside to outside as the cameras are closer to you, but pretend they’re not there, and enjoy yourselves. Now, how do I get outside this place to get a cigarette?’

  Both Roxanne and Laura carried walkie-talkies, which now babbled into life.

  Laura responded quickly, ‘Roger that. I’ll bring the teams through.’ Turning to them, she gave another of her infectious smiles. ‘Okay, guys. This is it. Break a leg.’

  ‘I might do that if I trip over any of the cables,’ muttered Jim to himself. No one acknowledged him. Nerves had kicked in and they followed Laura out of the restaurant, along the corridor and into a magnificent room. It was immense even filled as it was with about forty people. Six cameras pointed in the direction of the plinths while a seventh concentrated on Professor Potts, who stood staring at the autocue, a sour expression on his face. Mattie fussed about him spraying strands of hair and patting them down. Four men, arms folded and wearing headphones and microphones, communicated with invisible members of the team. Camera crew were positioned behind their apparatus awaiting commands. People rushed in and out of the room. Cables stretched around the floor like dark, coiling snakes.

  ‘Hi, guys!’ yelped a short, chubby man with a smile that stretched across his face.

  ‘Bryony and Lewis, could you please stand here?’ He walked them to two red crosses marked out in tape on the floor in front of a plinth. ‘Lewis, stand slightly behind Bryony, please. You need to squeeze right in behind her so we can get a tight shot of your faces. That’s it. Now Jim, Oscar, please can we have you at the next plinth? That’s it, Jim. You stand in front and Oscar behind. Great.’

  Terry reappeared from his cigarette break and shouted, ‘Okay, everyone. We’re ready for the take. Prof, you ready?’

  ‘If someone shoos off Hairspray Mattie,’ Potts answered, fiddling with his earpiece.

  She pulled a face at him and joined the crew to observe the proceedings.

  ‘Cameras?’

  ‘Rolling,’ replied each camera operative.

  A figure came forward with a clapperboard. Bryony could feel her heart hammering with anticipation.

  ‘Action!’

  Professor Potts faced the camera, plastered a smile on his face and began, ‘Hello and welcome to Friday and day five of What Happens in... We’re standing in the remarkable Gallery Room at Château du Torture—’

  ‘Cut! Prof, it’s Torquet not Torture.’

  Potts scowled. The cameras rolled and he tried again. ‘Hello and welcome to the final day of What Happens in... We’re here in the remarkable Gallery Room at Château du Torquet, a room filled with outstanding sculptures and artwork and where we can discover portraits and pictures from as early as the sixteenth century.’ He smiled winningly.

  ‘Our teams have been tested on all manner of challenges but today it’s all about their general knowledge. Have our remaining teams got what it takes to become champions and win ten thousand ponds—?’

  ‘Cut! Ponds? However did you come up with that?’

  Potts grinned boyishly. ‘Misread the autocue. The light was shining on it.’

  ‘Take it again starting from, “Our teams have been tested”,’ shouted a grumpy voice.

  ‘Miserable sod,’ mumbled Potts, winking at Bryony.

  ‘I heard that!’ said the voice.

  ‘You were supposed to. Loosen up, Roland.’ He faced his camera. The autocue was rewound and he began again.

  ‘Our teams have been tested on all manner of challenges but today it’s their knowledge—’

  ‘Misread it again,’ grumbled the same grumpy voice.

  ‘It’s the light, Roland. Move the wretched autocue. I can’t see the words.’

  ‘Move the autocue for the professor,’ yelled another voice.

  Oscar fidgeted on his spot. Bryony knew how he felt. They hadn’t started the quiz yet and already she was feeling too stressed to put up a good performance.

  Mattie shot out from near the cameras, can in hand, brushed a hair back from Professor Potts’ face and sprayed his hair liberally, causing him to cough.

  He waved his hands at her. ‘Go away. I have enough hairspray already. If anyone comes near me with a match I’ll go up in flames.’

  Bryony heard someone muttering, ‘Anybody got a lighter?’

  At last, the autocue was in the right place and Professor Potts managed to read the introduction without any errors. He turned to Bryony and Lewis.

  ‘So, our first contestants are Bryony and Lewis.’ He gave them a brilliant smile. ‘Bryony, Bryony, Bryony,’ he repeated in an affectionate manner. ‘How are you, darling? Bit nervous?’

  ‘A little,’ she confessed.

  He walked over to her and held her hands between his. ‘You have no need to be. You’ll be fine. Now, I understand you’re searching for your lost sister, Hannah.’

  She wanted to yank her hands away. His felt clammy.

  ‘Yes, she ran away from home when she was sixteen and my family tried everything to find her; they even hired two detectives but they had no success and said she’d fallen completely off the radar. Many children run away from home, never to be heard of again. They have their reasons for going but they leave behind a terrible hole in people’s lives – a hole that can’t be fixed. Certainly, none of us ever got over losing Hannah. My father took it the worst and last month, he suffered a major stroke. It’s now mor
e important than ever I locate her and beg her to come home. We all want to see her so badly. If anyone knows anything at all about her, or has contacts with people from missing person’s agencies, or anything that could help us track her down, I implore them to get in contact via the blog Searching for Hannah.’

  Potts stared at the camera, eyes wide, sincerity oozing from every pore. ‘If you know Bryony’s sister, Hannah, please get in touch with her and tell her about what you’ve heard. It would be wonderful to know that this incredible show has provided a happy ending. Now Bryony, I understand you’re a teacher. What subjects do you teach?’

  Bryony was surprised by the sudden change in the conversation but answered all the same. ‘I teach English and help children and young adults with learning difficulties. It’s extremely rewarding.’

  ‘And do you have any hobbies or interests?’

  ‘I like learning languages. I can speak French and a little Russian.’

  Professor Potts dropped her hands theatrically. ‘Get out of here! That’s incredible. Isn’t that amazing?’

  Bryony ignored the overdramatic reaction and smiled again.

  ‘Can you say something in Russian for us? How about, “I’m very happy to be on the show?”’

  Bryony obliged and earned a round of applause from the crew.

  ‘What about that, eh? Russian. You’ll be a formidable force today. And this is your teammate, Lucas.’

  ‘Cut!’ yelled the grumpy voice again.

  ‘Sorry. My mind wandered.’