1
Natalie studied the photograph: the prow of a gondola just passing under the Rialto Bridge, golden light bathing the Grand Canal. She could almost feel the gentle warmth of a Venetian evening, hear the voices of the jostling crowd. Her trip to Italy had been magical. Until…
A blur of bright colour moved across the glass partition. Floella elbowed open the office door, two takeaway cups balanced in one hand. She dropped a pink and white cardboard box on the desk, bracelets jangling.
‘Admiring my mood board?’
‘Yes, it’s beautiful.’
Floella set down the cups. ‘I’ve brought coffee and doughnuts.’
‘Thanks, Flo. And I’m glad I’ve caught you. I don’t suppose I’ll see you for a while after today, at least not until the new series ofTogethergets the green light… unless something comes up in the meantime.’ Natalie hoped she sounded casual, not desperate. She loved her job in TV production but being freelance made it hard to plan, let alone pay the bills.
‘Something will turn up for you. Go on, have one of these.’
Natalie opened the cardboard box, releasing a sweet, doughy aroma. Globules of pink frosting clung to the lid’s cellophane panel. She took a doughnut, the sugary coating sticky on her fingers.
‘So, how’sLuxe Life Swapgoing?’ she said tentatively. The show was Flo-Go Production’s flagship programme. Thousands of loyal fans were looking forward to the series returning but in the fickle world of television, that wasn’t enough to guarantee the additional funding that was critical to the survival of Flo’s small company.
‘Marrakech and Paris are looking good but it’s hard to keep the new locations all hush-hush when some eagle-eyed viewer manages to snap a picture of Mandy Miller halfway up the Eiffel Tower. But now we’ve got a much bigger problem. Mandy’s not going to make it out to Italy.’
‘Oh no! Why? What’s happened?’
Floella stirred her coffee. ‘If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t say, it is rather personal, but you know Mandy, she’s all for talking openly about women’s problems.’
‘She’s ill?’
Floella reached for a doughnut. ‘She’s been suffering with severe endometriosis; poor woman’s been in agony. Her PA met her off the plane from Paris, took one look at her and took her straight to A&E. Next thing she knew, they were wheeling her into theatre for an emergency hysterectomy.’
‘How awful! Mandy’s such a trooper, she probably didn’t even tell anyone she was suffering. Is she going to be okay?’
‘Looks like she’ll be fine; her husband’s keeping me in the loop. He says she’s been charming all the staff; some of the nurses are quite starstruck. Apparently, she’s been demanding her make-up bag, and wants to film a message for her fans so they hear the news from her first. The doctors have told her to rest but…’ Floella tutted.
‘She’s probably giving an interview on hospital radio as we speak and boning up about Venice.’
Floella waved a hand in the direction of her mood board.
‘We need to talk about that.’ She ran her tongue over her purple lip gloss, catching a couple of errant sugar sprinkles.
‘If there’s anything I can do…’ Natalie reached for her phone and clicked on the Notes app. She felt Floella’s eyes on her. ‘Why are you smiling at me like that?’
Floella began singing a theme tune Natalie hadn’t heard in years. ‘Panda’s Place–it’s yours and my happy place. White tummy, black paws, Panda’s Place!Remember that show?’
‘How could I forget it? That awful tune! Those dreadful striped dungarees they made me wear! Don’t tell me you’ve been watching it.’
‘Someone’s uploaded the old episodes to YouTube.’
Natalie cringed. Her one and only stint as a television presenter hadn’t worked out quite as she’d hoped.
‘Don’t make that face. The programme was terrible but you were great.’
‘I was okay, I suppose, considering the material.’
‘You were more than okay. That’s why I want you to be the stand-in presenter forLuxe Life Swap’s Italian leg.’ Floella smirked.
Natalie gasped.Luxe Life Swapwas prime-time television, a once-in-a-lifetime chance most people would kill for. And if Floella needed her, she had to help. She’d go anywhere. Anywhere but Venice.
‘No! Come on, Flo, you’re kidding! Surely you want Suzie Silver or Fiona McPhee? I’ve not done any presenting for years.’
