“Not if the BBC goes bankrupt from underfunding reallyquickly. Which seems increasingly likely.”
“Even then I think they’ll probably outlast local newspapers,” Gavin observed, still drumming.
“Yeah, fair point. But”—Audrey smiled; she had sometimes been told she had a nice smile and she knew how to employ it, if not disarmingly then at least in a way that signalled commitment to a series of ongoing talks about nonproliferation—“given what readership’s been like, might it not be worth taking thetiniestlittle swing for the fences?”
Looking down at the printout, Gavin further adjusted his glasses. You could tell how concerned Gavin was about something from how frequently he repositioned his eyewear. “I suppose journalismisabout taking risks.”
“It is,” Audrey agreed.
“And it’d show the bloodyStar.”
“It would.”
“See howtheylike being Shropshire’s second biggest regional newspaper.”
This was going well. “Right.”
“I mean, obviously they’d like it quite a lot. Nothing wrong with being Shropshire’s second biggest regional newspaper. I think we do rather well here at theEchoall things considered.”
Okay, maybe that had been optimistic. “We do, but wouldn’t it be nice to be Shropshire’s biggest regional newspaper just for abit?”
Gavin was fiddling with his glasses again. “It’d be a lot of pressure.”
“Gavin”—Audrey gave him her most supportive and sincere look—“I really believe we’re up to the challenge.”
Gavin fell into a mulling-things-over silence and Audrey decided to let him mull. Because sometimes the right thing to say was nothing.
Once appropriate mulling time had passed, Gavin settled his glasses into their most decisive position. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll reach out to Inveterate Productions.”
Not entirely convinced that Jennifer Hallet was a bus she wanted to throw Gavin under, Audrey had hoped he’d leave it to her. “I can do it for you if you’d—”
“No, no. This is my decision and I should take responsibility for it.”
Now Audrey thought about it, maybe it would be best if the initial approach came from someone who hadn’t personally argued with Jennifer multiple times in a single weekend. “If you’re sure.”
Gavin just nodded. “I’m sure. But listen, Audrey. Even thoughthis is an exciting opportunity, you can’t let it distract you from the core work we do here at theShropshire Echo.”
“Of course not,” said Audrey.
“Seventy-nine thousand four hundred and six people are relying on us to keep them informed about the things that really matter to the real lives of the real people of Shropshire.”
“Absolutely,” said Audrey.
“So what I really need from you right now is for you to leave this with me.” Gavin slid his glasses up his nose and, fleetingly, he looked like the journalist he’d probably been in his younger days. “I’m serious, Audrey, we need to do this properly or it could cause theEchoa lot of trouble. Put your energy into the ghost barge story.”
In her heart of hearts, Audrey did not want to focus all or indeed any of her energy on the ghost barge story. Nor, if she was being one hundred percent honest, was she convinced that the ghost barge story counted as something that really mattered to the real lives of the real people of Shropshire. But now was not the time to bring that up. Especially since she’d just asked Gavin to go out on a limb for her. A limb that ran under a sewage outflow pipe.
She mustered her most team-playerey voice. Which, honestly, wasn’t that different from her normal voice because Audrey was kind of a team player. Or, as Natalie had put it during an argument once, had a subservient mindset. “You got it.”
Grabbing her things, she hurried out of Gavin’s office and down to the car park where Eddie, theEcho’s best and only photographer, was waiting for her. He had an enormous grin on his face, camera around his neck, suspiciously new-looking black bag over his shoulder.
Audrey always tried very hard not to pretend that she didn’twant to know things she blatantly wanted to know. With Eddie, that policy was occasionally a liability. “What’s that?” she asked.
Still grinning, Eddie opened a Velcro pouch on the suspiciously new-looking black bag and pulled out—Audrey wasn’t really sure what he’d pulled out—some kind of plastic box with red lights all over it and an ergonomic grip. “I’m glad you asked, because—”
“No.”
“You haven’t—”
