Rehearsal
EDEL ARRIVES AT 4.15. She is already early. She gets a little bit earlier all the time. She is worried that some day she will meet herself coming back. But the woman at reception isn’t surprised.
‘Certainly,’ she says. ‘They’ll have someone over right now:’
*
Over in the office they are running late. Frank is putting in some last minute changes. Jo tries not to care, but she follows them all the same.
‘The script has already gone to printing,’ she says. Frank doesn’t hear. He puts his hand over his back pocket and freezes. His wallet, his pictures are gone.
*
A man comes into the reception area and asks her her name. When she tells him he says ‘That’s great’, as though she had a great name.
‘Follow me,’ he says and walks through a door. She looks over at the woman behind the reception desk and the woman smiles at her. The smile is for her, but it is also for the row of television sets on the wall, where a cartoon is showing with a cat and a bird. The cat is walking a telephone wire over to the bird’s nest. He has an umbrella in one hand, stretched out for balance.
*
Frank enters the studio through the wide scene-dock door, big enough to fit a plane through. He walks across the floor and looks at the lighting rig which creaks and blinks, as one lamp descends on a telescopic hoist. The lamp turns around to look at him with a whirring hum and switches itself on.
‘How’ya,’ says Frank.
*
Edel follows the man through the door and finds herself in a corridor. It is surprisingly narrow and busy. She doesn’t have time to see it all. A man goes past with a dirty duvet cover knotted at the top like a sack. As he goes past she smells something rancid and does not know whether it comes from the man or from the sack. She looks over her shoulder and she sees the sack move. There is something moving inside the duvet cover and it smells.
*
Marcus is editing the interview from last week’s date. The girl on the tape is saying ‘Lovely eyes, big smile, really good pectorals, but the best bit is … well you know … all girls really … but me now … I really go for …’
‘Say it,’ says Marcus, under his breath. ‘Say it.’
‘I’m a …’
‘You’re an …’
‘I like …’
‘You like a nice …’
‘I like a nice …’
‘arse.’
‘personality.’
‘What?’ said Marcus. ‘That’s not what she said this morning.’
‘Women,’ said the editor. ‘Always changing their minds.’
*
The man brings her down the corridor and around the corner where someone is shouting ‘Run. Run now.’ A woman turns around and collides with her and five tapes land on the ground, their cases burst open, one of them goes skittering across the carpet and hits the wall. Edel bends down to pick them up.
‘Sorry,’ she says and the two women’s heads bang off each other. The woman who was holding the tapes doesn’t say anything to her, she says ‘Oh Jesus. Oh Jesus.’
*
Up in the box Frank dials a number and says ‘What’s the story on Camera 3? We are going live in three hours’ time. What do you want me to do? Cut to black?’ and his wife’s voice says ‘Frank? Who gave you my number? Is this a joke?’
*
She follows the man through a door and into make-up.
‘This is Edel’, he says, ‘for the LoveQuiz.’
‘How are you?’ says a woman in make-up. ‘Take a seat.’ She climbs up into what looks like a barber’s chair, the woman takes a pink bib, snaps it into the air, twists the top around her neck and lets the rest drift down onto her chest.
‘Nervous?’ says the woman.
‘No,’ says Edel. ‘I mean yes.’ She looks down at her knee and sees a ladder in her tights, running up under her skirt, even as she watches it.
*
‘When I saw her first… Ready? OK. When I saw her first I thought Nice face, Shame about the dress. No. No. The first thing I saw were her eyes which are green, a really witchy, seductive green. Brown. Let me try that again. When I saw her first I thought Hello … We’re going to have a good time.’
*
Stephen waves at the camera, just like he is told and the light around his head separates out into red and green and blue.
*
The man sitting in the next chair to Edel gives her a wink. She thinks it might be the Minister for Health and Social Welfare.
‘Mmmmnn,’ says the Minister. He closes his eyes. ‘That’s lovely’ he says. ‘You know there’s nothing so lovely as being made-up.’ The make-up woman leans across him. Her breast touches his ear.
*
‘Stand by for rehearsal,’ says Frank. ‘In five. Get wardrobe to do something with that guy’s white shirt—it’s flaring all over the place. Cue Damien. Cut two. What?’
All the screens have gone to white.
*
Stephen looks up and sees me on the gantry, looking down. He seems scared. He smiles anyway. Pop goes a light, showering the floor with sparks and glass. Bang goes my heart. Pop goes my breast.
And at last I know the difference between one and two.
‘One. Tchuu,’ says Stephen into the mike. ‘One. Tchew.’
* *
Frank leaves the studio while they fix the cameras and he goes to the toilet. There is a smell in the next cubicle and a man is making a noise in there. It sounds like he is feeding hens, or a calf. He is making wet clucking sounds deep in his throat. Frank hears the toilet flush and the man say ‘Oh no you don’t.’
* *
Maybe he isn’t the Minister for Health and Social Welfare. Edel notices that he is sliding his hand up and down the back of the make-up lady’s knee. Every stroke of his hand goes a little further up her skirt.
* *
‘Well let’s eat in the hotel,’ I said. ‘If you want me to wear a dress.’ I just thought he didn’t like my legs. That said I thought well here’s a lovely person, kind eyes and a good listener, maybe it was because his mouth was always full. No I didn’t say that. Don’t put that in.’
‘Leave it in,’ says Marcus.
* *
The Head of Current Affairs comes into the toilet and goes up to the urinal. Frank edges away from the cubicles. His back brushes the back of the Head of Current Affairs, who looks over his shoulder. Frank catches his eye. They listen. There is the sound of the piss of the Head of Current Affairs hitting the urinal and, from the cubicle, the sound of a man saying ‘Come on. Come on you little sweetheart, you little bastard. Come on.’
* *
The make-up woman is leaning across the Minister for Health and Social Welfare. She is patting his face with a soft, dry, firm powder puff. He is stroking the top inside of her thigh. She says ‘How’s that now?’
‘Lovely,’ he says and opens his eyes. ‘Just lovely.’ She smiles down at him.
* *
‘Great kisser. I mean classic kisser. And he says “Listen, come on” because I wasn’t really interested to tell you the truth but he was really hot to trot. Talk about Russian hands, talk about Roman fingers! Anyway. It was a beautiful night. Very warm. And “Fuck you” he’s saying.’
‘Out on “fingers”,’ says Marcus.
* *
The only sound in the toilet is the sound of the piss of the Head of Current Affairs and the sound of the man inside the cubicle, who is saying ‘Eat it, you little bastard. Eat it.’ Frank bends down to check how many pairs of shoes are visible under the door. The toilet seat falls with a clatter and the man says ‘Damn.’ A stained sheet is thrown over the cubicle door and a small white mouse runs from under the partition and across the shoes of the Head of Current Affairs, where it gets very wet.
‘Damn,’ says the Head of Current Affairs.
* *
‘Just lie back there,’ says the woman from make-up.
‘Take as long as you like,’ says the Minister for Health and Social Welfare.
‘I’ll just neaten you up a little,’ she says, taking up her tweezers. ‘You know what they say about men’, she says, ‘whose eyebrows meet.’
* *
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ says the camera-man to Frank. ‘The pictures are back, they’re just coming in upside down.’
‘Well stand on your head, why don’t you,’ says Frank.
* *
‘This big prick with a vein in it and I’m saying Just please let me go to the toilet, I have to go to the toilet, I’ll be back in a minute I swear, I swear and he just says nothing and I can’t move and this big ignorant looking prick pushing.’
‘Rewind,’ says Marcus.
* *
‘Aaargh!’ says the Minister, as the woman from make-up examines the tuft of hair in her tweezers. His body stiffens in the chair, his hand under her skirt makes a fist.
‘You BITCH!’ he screams and the Special Branch man runs into the room with a gun in his hand.
* *
Jo checks her stopwatch and her stand-by stopwatch counts up her durations. Then she checks them again. One of her stopwatches is out.
* *
There is a scream from make-up. The Special Branch man drops his sandwich. It takes him three long seconds to get his gun out of the holster. The screaming has stopped. He bursts in through the door and covers the room. The gun goes off. A mirror shatters and Edel’s face falls on the counter.
* *
‘Physically,’ says Frank. ‘Turn the camera physically upside down.’ A pair of feet walks across the ceiling, top of the frame, then spins around and walks across the floor.
* *
‘Great kisser I mean a really classic kisser and he says “Listen, come on” because I wasn’t really interested to tell you the truth, but he was really hot to trot. Talk about Russian hands, talk about Roman fingers! Anyway it was a beautiful night. Really warm, “Fuck this” he says. “Let’s go for a swim” he says, “Everyone’s asleep. We might be the only two people left in the world.”’
‘What?’ says Marcus.
* *
Jo has synchronised her watches. She puts her hand on Frank’s arm.
* *
‘Nobody move,’ says the Special Branch man. ‘Or I’ll take out my gun.’ There is a man at the back of the room holding a stained sheet. He’s saying ‘Come on. Come on.’ The Special Branch man looks at the floor, where a snake is winding its way around the base of one of the chairs. It is heading this way.
‘It’s only a snake,’ says the man. ‘I can’t leave it in my dressing room.’ The Special Branch man is afraid of snakes.
* *
I arrive in make-up and Michelle sort of glares at me and indicates with her eyes where the guy is sitting with his snake. Every one is being very professional.
‘David, is it?’ I say and shake his hand. ‘What are you up here for? Giving Patrick a lick of Vaseline?’ Patrick is the snake.
* *
And that is all before we hit air. Stephen blamed Patrick, but he would, wouldn’t he. He would blame the snake.
I go up to hospitality.
‘So Edel,’ I say, ‘all set?’
‘I have a ladder in my tights,’ she says.
The television is on in the corner. She has switched over to Countdown where Carol is doing a numbers quiz.
‘She’s amazing with numbers,’ I say, for the sake of it.
‘Why is she always pregnant?’ says Edel. ‘I mean, when is she due?’ And it is true that every time you see her, Carol from Countdown is still pregnant. She has been about seven months gone all year.
‘They record them all together,’ I say. ‘They record about twenty shows in a week and then put them out one at a time.’
‘Oh right,’ says Edel. But she is not convinced. She looks at Carol like there was one thing she could not count and that was the days left, as if all the numbers in her head had knocked a few out of her belly. And we both look at her bump, where that baby sits from month to month, on the telly, just as happy as it ever was. Resisting time.