by Harry Verity
‘No,’ Mr Butler said, firmly, ‘no, I haven’t.’
Mrs Butler returned with the tea.
Edward took a cup, then outlined how the story would run. ‘We want to put surveillance on Jessica, so we can see what she is really up to.’
‘To make sure she’s not on drugs?’ Mr Butler asked.
‘Yes, but we’re pretty sure that she isn’t, it will be mainly to see how many times a day she’s eating, whether we think she is throwing up all of her food.’
Mr Butler seemed uneasy. ‘And you think that this will be the best way to help her see she has a problem, to confront her?’
‘Yes,’ said Edward, trying not to linger on an – understandably – distressing part of the show for too long. ‘We’ve also got a doctor who specialises in eating disorders, he’s going to give his analysis on stage. We’re hoping that with Michael, Dr Braithwaite and you telling her the same thing, she might see sense and realise she needs to change.’
‘What will the support be like when the show is finished?’
Only Braithwaite could answer this question. ‘It will be the best help we can provide,’ he explained, ‘but it will involve you not seeing Jessica for quite a while.’
‘Oh…’
‘I have organised a residential clinic for her in Cornwall. She’ll have her own room and she’ll be looked after by the best doctors and nurses until she’s made a full recovery.’
‘Will we be able to visit her?’
‘Yes but only after the first two weeks. I’ve spoken to the clinic and they think it’s really important that Jessica is left alone so that she can get over the worst of it.’
‘And when will the treatment begin?’
It was one question that Edward did know the answer to. During the initial discussions about this story, Michael and Mags had suggested a follow-up episode a week later in which cameras followed Jessica’s ‘journey’ to recovery and her first few days at the clinic. However, everyone was now adamant that Jessica should be taken off in a car to the clinic during the show. It would send home the message that eating disorders were serious and that if people wanted to change their lives it wasn’t enough to do it tomorrow or the day after, they had to do it today. He told Mr Butler what would happen and he did not look happy.
‘You mean you want us to ambush our own daughter?’ he said, incredulously. ‘She would never forgive us.’
‘When it’s all over, when she’s recovered, I’m sure she’ll thank you,’ said Edward, tactically.
‘You don’t know my daughter.’
Edward smiled. ‘But she looks up to Michael O’Shea, doesn’t she? She will listen to him, he will make her see sense, I promise.’
‘What about clothes for Jessica, if she’s going away?’
Edward told her they could be sent down to Cornwall the following day and not to pack anything; it would look suspicious. Nobody wanted Jessica getting wind of what was really happening.
When Jessica appeared at lunchtime and she tucked into the smallest cheese sandwich Edward had ever seen, not even finishing it, Edward tried to put her at ease as he told her she’d definitely be on the show. He deliberately avoided explicit mention of the line of questioning she’d face or her illness, much to Braithwaite’s outrage, and instead focused on her meeting with O’Shea, and how he could help her with her media career. Of course, that wasn’t a complete lie, when she was better and if she put on a dramatic enough performance, he had no doubt Michael would see to it that she appeared on some reality show or other.
Finally, after half an hour of discussions and another cup of tea, Edward and Braithwaite were ready to leave. ‘Thanks so much for your time,’ Edward said, shaking Mr and Mrs Butler’s hands, though he felt rather uneasy at doing so. He felt as if he was stabbing them in the back, though he tried to forget about it.
On the journey home Braithwaite was incensed about the deception – something he had known nothing about until then – and Edward simply did not have the heart to mount a defence about something he knew deep down was entrapment. So he let Braithwaite rant on and tried to be as cordial as possible. The only thing that satisfied his conscience and stopped him from conspiring with Braithwaite to sabotage the show was the sight of Jessica Butler’s ludicrously small cheese sandwich. She was a girl that needed help, whatever the cost.
The week leading up to Jessica Butler’s appearance was far less manic than the previous week. The celebrity stories were easy to arrange. There was no need to do any prior research. Michael, who had that week been far more involved in setting up the shows – perhaps trying to keep a low profile by spending his days in the studio rather than attending his usual press junket where he could easily be ambushed – had insisted that the celebrities be allowed to tell their own stories without interference.
Perhaps feeling a semblance of guilt that he did not want to admit, Michael also personally arranged everything for the boy with the brain tumour. He took a film crew down to the hospital where he was staying and instructed Edward to order as many balloons, decorations and party poppers as the show’s budget would allow. The boy’s story was going to take the form of a party. He would be blindfolded and led into a studio where an audience composed entirely of his family, friends, and supporters would erupt into applause. The stage would be decked out with a cake, the decorations Edward had bought and, of course, presents. Lots of presents.
For once, Edward actually wanted to prepare for the show and he made sure he did all he could to make it perfect. There may have been a cynicism attached to the initial decision to have him on, but poor Freddie Bell – the nine-year-old with the brain tumour – didn’t have to know that. All that mattered was that he had a special day and got the funding to have his operation in America.
By Thursday afternoon, however, a strange atmosphere had overcome The Michael O’Shea Show. Everybody was pitching in to help with the last-minute preparations so they could go home early. Braithwaite volunteered to book the taxi that would take Jessica Butler all the way to the clinic in Cornwall – it would reach the secluded retreat for eight or nine in the evening he assured them – and in the same spirit, Mags offered to walk to the station and arrange for the Butlers’ train tickets to be sent by courier.
Of course, the Butlers were perfectly capable of driving to the studios, but Violet had insisted that they come in via train.
‘No turning back once you’re on a train, if Jessica does have any last-minute doubts.’
By half past four, they had all but finished the arrangements for the recording and, other than a few more balloons that needed blowing up and placing on the stage, they were ready to go.
‘Er…’ Unusually it wasn’t Braithwaite that was stumbling; Michael seemed to be at a loss as to what to say. ‘I guess that was good work today, guys. See you tomorrow.’
A compliment from Michael O’Shea, whatever next…
17
Edward could spot the Butlers making their way towards them from quite a distance. Jessica had straightened her hair and fixed it in place with a cute polka-dot headband. And she had complemented it perfectly with a smart cream blazer and a plain dark-blue dress that made her look almost nun-like. In fact, it was as if she was dressed for an interview. Of course, to her, it was an interview, an audition for what she saw as a lifetime career in the media.
‘Good morning.’ Edward beamed, and Jessica went to shake his hand.
‘Did you have a nice journey down?’ Violet began, asking her parents and they said there were no complications.
‘I’m afraid you’re not on until the end of the day,’ Edward said.
They did not seem best pleased but there was little that could be done about that. There was a tight schedule – aside from an hour-long break for lunch – the shows would be recorded, as ever, back-to-back and they weren’t about to risk pausing the show whilst they waited for delayed trains to arrive. Everybody on the show today would be here first thing, even those on last.
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br /> It was a rather unfortunate scenario given that it gave Jessica’s parents an entire day to mull over the situation and potentially decide they were going to pull out at the last moment. But a solution had been found. The Butler parents were shown to the channel guest suite – a dining area with guests from other shows on the third floor – whilst Jessica herself was given an ‘exclusive’ tour of the building and allowed to meet a few celebrities. It added to the illusion that Jessica was being brought onto the show to talk about her media career but also kept her separate from her parents.
Finally, four o’clock came and Jessica and her parents were brought up to separate green rooms where they had microphones fitted.
The decision had been taken to go for a full four-on-one assault with Mr and Mrs Butler, Michael and Liv all trying to ram home the message to Jessica about her eating disorder.
‘Now, my final guests are two parents who are at breaking point. They suspect that their seventeen-year-old daughter, Jessica, has an eating disorder. But she won’t admit it and she is becoming increasingly thinner and, they suspect, increasingly cunning at disguising her unwillingness to eat.
‘Jessica has only agreed to come on the show because she is a massive fan and because we’ve told her we can help her become famous. She has no idea what this is really about. So without further ado, let’s get Jessica’s parents on the show.’
And Mr and Mrs Butler walked feebly onto the stage, the audience clapping and cheering as their faces turned pale.
‘Don’t worry about them,’ Michael said, pointing to the audience, ‘they don’t get out much.’
Mrs Butler forced a smile.
Liv sat down on the chair beside her and held Mrs Butler’s hand. ‘I’ll cut straight to the chase. You believe your daughter has an eating disorder?’
‘We think so,’ Mrs Butler said.
‘So I guess the obvious question is when do you think her problems began? Did it all come out of nowhere?’
Mrs Butler looked to Liv for reassurance who nodded. ‘She’s always been a happy girl and she used to eat healthily. We used to take her out for a roast dinner on Sundays and go to restaurants. She was okay really until a few months ago.’
‘And that’s when things started going wrong?’
‘We noticed she wasn’t eating as much, small things but it never really bothered us.’ Mrs Butler’s voice was so gentle that the techie next to Edward said he had to turn her mic to full volume. ‘We never thought that something funny was going on but there were times – looking back – when we perhaps should have questioned what she was doing. We’d ask if she wanted a dessert and she’d say no when she’d usually want one. We’d say we were thinking of going out and she’d turn it down… but we thought she’d just made alternative plans, you know, to go and be with her friends.’
‘When did you realise things had got more serious?’
‘We noticed she was spending her pocket money on these magazines.’ It was Mr Butler who was speaking up about his daughter.
‘Gossip magazines?’
‘Yes, ones about celebrities. So we quizzed her about it and she said she wanted a career in the media, to be famous and that these magazines were going to help her do it. We told her she should focus on her exams so she had all her options open, but I think we rather misinterpreted what she meant when she said these magazines would help her.’
‘What did she mean?’
‘She meant that these magazines had led her to the conclusion that the only way she was going to lead the lifestyle she wanted and to work in the media was to look and behave in a certain way.’
‘To lose weight?’
‘I think it started off that way but then it escalated and now she just focuses on her weight and how to get out of eating anything at all. It’s like an obsession. It doesn’t matter how much weight she loses I don’t think it is ever enough.’
‘So how bad have her eating habits become? How much does she eat a day?’
Edward had put all of this information in the production briefing Michael was supposed to read before every show. For some reason or other, he actually seemed to have paid attention to it today.
‘We do make her come home for dinner on school days so we can make sure she definitely eats something.’
‘Really. Does she always come home without a fuss?’
‘Yes, always, but we think that she’s secretly making herself sick, bringing it back up again or hiding her food down her top or in her pockets. But we can’t watch her all the time. We can’t police her. She thinks we’re bugging her and that we’re working against her but we’re not.’
‘We’re just trying to help her,’ Mrs Butler said.
‘We know, babe,’ Liv said, clasping her hands firmly. ‘Michael’s only trying to get the full picture for the viewers at home.’
Michael didn’t react. He clasped his hands together. ‘Right, folks, shall we get Jessica on the show. Liv is going to bring her out.’ And, sure enough, cameras followed Liv as she made her way to the giant screen which faded into a glass panel and a door as she approached.
Jessica was sat on a comfy chair, sipping water from a plastic cup. Well, she was until Liv grabbed hold of her hand and walked her out onto the stage.
‘Good to have you on the show, Jessica,’ Michael said. ‘We’ve got your parents here…’
Her expression dropped.
‘They’ve been telling me about your eating habits.’
Edward could see the seething anger, the bubbling fury.
Braithwaite was jittery. He got up and paced around the gallery.
‘Sit down, Braithwaite,’ Mags screamed. ‘Sit the fuck down.’
Back on the stage, Liv was playing the good cop.
‘Jessica is an average teenager who wants to be famous, aren’t you? Nothing wrong with that.’
‘Let’s hear from the horse’s mouth. What’s the deal, Jessica?’ Michael said.
‘I err…’ She stumbled slightly, and a look of fear crept across her face. She jolted and forced herself to sit upright; to her, today was an interview, every word she said would be judged.
‘They hate me,’ Jessica exclaimed, ‘Mum and Dad, want to control me, stop me going out and having fun. They’re always in my face.’
Edward had not heard Jessica speak like this at home; he can’t have been the only one to have realised that her antipathy towards her parents was all a carefully constructed front. She wanted desperately to be the bad girl but it wasn’t washing.
‘No, darling, that’s not true, we just want to help you. You’re not well.’
Jessica fidgeted, it was if she was deliberately trying to psych herself up.
‘Why won’t you leave me alone?’ she said. ‘I’m seventeen I want to lead my own life.’
Her parents looked shocked and saddened.
Michael was having none of it. ‘Hang on a minute, you’re trying to turn the show around and get out of what we’re here to talk about. First of all, your parents have done everything for you from what they’ve told me and what my researchers said when they visited your house.’
‘Yeah, I know what you’re all about,’ Liv said, ‘you’re trying to paint yourself as the victim here.’
‘This isn’t about the poor little posh girl being victimised by her controlling parents,’ Michael continued, ‘it’s about you taking responsibility for your illness. Because you are ill, aren’t you?’
‘No I’m not!’ Jessica exclaimed.
‘And you’re sure about that, are you?’
Jessica shrunk back into her chair.
‘There’s nothing you want to own up to? Your eating habits are completely normal? You eat three good meals a day, you swallow and digest it all? Tell her, Liv, tell her what we know.’
‘We’ve been watching what you’ve been up to. Let’s watch a clip from our private detective to see what he found out.’
One of the techies dimmed the studio lights and the screens lit up
with snippets of surveillance cameras intercut with the silhouette of a private detective narrating what he’d found: he explained that he had followed Jessica when she was not at school and at weekends to find out what she was up to. The detective explained that he never once saw Jessica eating or buying food, even when she was with friends, and that he had got footage of Jessica placing food her friends gave her into a bin when they were not looking. He had also called upon a female accomplice to follow her into the bathroom and record what she had heard: what sounded unmistakably like her flushing food she’d been offered down the toilet. But the strongest evidence was reserved for the end of the film: the private detective had spotted Jessica meeting up with another girl one to one. The girl looked thin and exhausted and, when Jessica’s parents heard their conversation they broke down in tears, the two girls talked explicitly about their plan to break into the media industry by losing weight and how no one else understood them. They even talked about the tactics they were using to disguise the fact they weren’t eating.
The lights went up to gasps from the audience.
‘Well, Jessica, what have you got to say for yourself?’ Liv asked.
Jessica ran off the stage, her tears spewing eyeliner and foundation all over her face. Liv jogged on after her, inviting the camera crew to follow her. The projector screen above the stage lit up so that the audience could see what was happening behind the scenes.
Jessica came to rest in the corridor outside Michael’s dressing room. She covered her face with her hands and Edward couldn’t help but feel for her. The tragedy of it all moved him; the complete public breakdown of her life. And wasn’t he responsible for it all? Hadn’t this been a car crash of his own making? But his self-doubt and guilt about what he had done would not stop the show.
‘You’ve got to listen to me.’ Liv tried to grab hold of Jessica’s hands. ‘I know it might seem awful but your eating habits are all out in the open now. You have a serious problem and you can’t keep pretending anymore. We want to help you. Yeah?’
