Andy sat in the reception of Horizon’s London headquarters, in Canary Wharf. He knew some people would be impressed, all that sparkling glass and shiny chrome, air conditioning and white noise. But far more, he imagined, would balk at the lack of fresh air and natural light which accompanied any journey out to this hub of finance, nestling in the dog-leg of the River Thames.
The underground had led Andy straight into a subterranean tunnel, flanked by fast food outlets from every corner of the globe, with neat signposting to Horizon’s offices, negating any need for him to pop his head above ground or check out Google Maps. Their clinical and well-flagged location had immediately made him homesick for the crumbling brickwork of Monument and the sensation of rain on his face.
‘Mr Hendricks will see you now,’ the receptionist called out, pointing a perfectly manicured finger along the glossy corridor. ‘Number six. Turn left at the end and it’s on your right.’
Andy felt himself propelled along by some higher force, past an eclectic collection of artworks; a giant, green, enamel shell on a raised pedestal, a man, hand raised in welcome, made entirely from coloured string, some black and white photographs of trees, or was it the same tree, through the seasons.
‘Ah, Andy. How nice to see you. Come in and sit by me. Coffee?’
Graham Hendricks was of medium height and build, with greying hair and a genial manner, but Andy knew that behind the mask of conviviality lurked a will of steel. Graham’s reputation as a self-made, rock-hard man of business preceded him. He had set up his first company aged 11, achieved his first CEO position at 21, and had taken Horizon into the big league five years ago.
Andy shook Graham by the hand and accepted the cup he was offered, seating himself to Graham’s left. Almost immediately, as he eased himself into the ergonomic chair, replete with moulded back and tilting mechanism, he felt a rush of blood to his head, as the view from the 20th floor assaulted his senses.
‘Ha!’ Graham noticed his discomfort and, grinning, he leaned over and, with one flick of the finger, dropped the blinds. ‘You’re not the first one to get a little vertigo up here,’ he chortled, ‘and I’m sure you won’t be the last.’
Andy took a deep breath. Beads of sweat had burst through his skin and he dabbed at his forehead, with a conveniently placed paper napkin.
‘You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you up, out of the blue, like this?’
Andy wasn’t sure if Graham expected a response, but his professionalism carried him through his temporary, adrenaline-fuelled crisis.
‘I was curious, I have to admit,’ he managed, taking a slurp of coffee and feeling his pulse leap even higher.
‘I have a proposition for you,’ Graham continued. ‘You’re a good-looking man, some experience of life, not too young, not too old.’ Graham laughed when he saw Andy’s baffled expression. ‘Oh your face!’ he said. ‘It’s definitely a business proposition, don’t look so worried.’
‘I’m relieved to hear that,’ Andy said, his body finally starting to adjust to the altitude.
‘It’s confidential, though, at least for now. If I tell you, it stays with you. You don’t share it even with your wife or your clerk or your closest friend. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Now Andy really was intrigued and more than a little flattered.
‘Horizon is going to take a leap into programming in a new area and I’m recruiting people to front it. For reasons which will become clear in a moment, I need someone with a legal background and a reasonable knowledge of the criminal law and process.’
‘Sounds like you have come to the right person, then?’ Andy had now recovered sufficiently to treat Graham to his broadest smile. Graham’s eyes flitted over Andy’s face. Andy remembered being told Graham had a photographic memory and he sensed Graham processing and storing each and every detail of his anatomy.
‘Do you have experience then, in front of the cameras?’ Graham said.
‘Well, I…not TV cameras, no. But, I mean, it’s just an extension of what I do every day, isn’t it? I’m used to being in front of an audience, a live audience in fact, and one which often answers back. TV must be easy in comparison.’
‘Not easy, no. But we’ll give you some opportunity to acclimatise. It will mean taking at least three months out of your practice, though, and giving this job your full attention. Is that something you could readily contemplate?’
Andy was certainly not against a change from his daily grind, but he still wasn’t sure what was on the table.
‘You’ll be well remunerated of course, a daily rate plus a bonus if our viewing figures are good enough.’
‘You are offering me a position on one of your shows, as a presenter?’ he asked.
‘That’s exactly it. Now, assuming you’re OK with the confidentiality aspect, let me tell you a little bit more about what we’re proposing. I think you’ll like it…a lot.’