alone with Mel.
‘Listen carefully to Gable,’ said Mel as he sat down next to Harry. ‘The minute the red light goes on, no one, including the studio audience, will realize he’s had
anything to drink but orange juice, and by the time he comes off, everyone will want to see his new movie.’
Mel turned out to be right. Gable was the ultimate professional, and the title of his new film got a mention at least every thirty seconds. And although Harry had read somewhere that he and Miss
Turner couldn’t stand each other, Gable was so gracious about his co-star that even the most cynical listener would have been convinced they were bosom pals. Only Natalie didn’t look
pleased, because Gable overran his slot by forty-two seconds.
During the ad break, Mel was escorted up to the studio. Harry learnt a great deal from Mel’s performance, during which Sylvester, Tweety Pie and Bugs Bunny were all given an outing. But
the thing that most impressed him was that when Matt Jacobs asked what was clearly the final question, Mel just went on talking, and stole another thirty-seven seconds of his precious time.
During the next ad break, it was Harry’s turn to be led up to the guillotine, where he knew his head was about to be removed. He sat down opposite his host and smiled nervously. Jacobs was
studying the inside flap of a copy of
Nothing Ventured
that looked as if it had never been opened before. He glanced up and returned Harry’s smile.
‘When the red light goes on, you’ll be on the air,’ was all he said before turning to the first page. Harry checked the second hand of the studio clock: four minutes to eight.
He listened to an advertisement for Nescafé, as Jacobs scribbled down a couple of notes on a pad in front of him. The ad ended with a familiar jingle, and the red light went on.
Harry’s mind went blank, and he wished he was at home having lunch with Emma, even facing a thousand Germans at Clemenceau ridge, rather than 11 million Americans enjoying their
breakfast.
‘Good morning,’ said Jacobs into his microphone, ‘and what a morning it’s been. First Gable, then Mel, and we end this hour of the breakfast show with a special guest
from Great Britain, Harry’ – he quickly checked the book’s cover – ‘Clifton. Now, before we talk about your new book, Harry, can I confirm that the last time you set
foot in America you were arrested for murder?’
‘Yes, but it was all a misunderstanding,’ spluttered Harry.
‘That’s what they all say,’ said Jacobs with a disconcerting laugh. ‘But what my eleven million listeners will want to know is, while you’re here, will you be
getting together with some of your old convict buddies?’
‘No, that’s not the reason I’m in America,’ began Harry. ‘I’ve written a—’
‘So Harry, tell me about your second impression of America.’
‘It’s a great country,’ said Harry. ‘New Yorkers have made me feel so welcome, and—’
‘Even the cab drivers?’
‘Even the cab drivers,’ repeated Harry, ‘and this morning I got to meet Clark Gable.’
‘Is Gable big in England?’ asked Matt.
‘Oh yes, he’s very popular, as is Miss Turner. In fact I can’t wait to see their new film.’
‘We call them movies over here, Harry, but what the hell.’ Jacobs paused, glanced up at the second hand on the clock, and said, ‘Harry, it’s been great having you on the
show, and good luck with your new book. After a few words from our sponsors, we’ll return at the top of the hour with the eight o’clock news. But from me, Matt Jacobs, it’s
goodbye, and have a great day.’
The red light went off.
Jacobs stood up, shook hands with Harry and said, ‘Sorry we didn’t get more time to talk about your book. Loved the cover.’
Emma sipped her morning coffee before opening the letter.
Dear Mrs Clifton,
Thank you for attending the board meeting last week. I am pleased to inform you that we would like to take your
‘Listen carefully to Gable,’ said Mel as he sat down next to Harry. ‘The minute the red light goes on, no one, including the studio audience, will realize he’s had
anything to drink but orange juice, and by the time he comes off, everyone will want to see his new movie.’
Mel turned out to be right. Gable was the ultimate professional, and the title of his new film got a mention at least every thirty seconds. And although Harry had read somewhere that he and Miss
Turner couldn’t stand each other, Gable was so gracious about his co-star that even the most cynical listener would have been convinced they were bosom pals. Only Natalie didn’t look
pleased, because Gable overran his slot by forty-two seconds.
During the ad break, Mel was escorted up to the studio. Harry learnt a great deal from Mel’s performance, during which Sylvester, Tweety Pie and Bugs Bunny were all given an outing. But
the thing that most impressed him was that when Matt Jacobs asked what was clearly the final question, Mel just went on talking, and stole another thirty-seven seconds of his precious time.
During the next ad break, it was Harry’s turn to be led up to the guillotine, where he knew his head was about to be removed. He sat down opposite his host and smiled nervously. Jacobs was
studying the inside flap of a copy of
Nothing Ventured
that looked as if it had never been opened before. He glanced up and returned Harry’s smile.
‘When the red light goes on, you’ll be on the air,’ was all he said before turning to the first page. Harry checked the second hand of the studio clock: four minutes to eight.
He listened to an advertisement for Nescafé, as Jacobs scribbled down a couple of notes on a pad in front of him. The ad ended with a familiar jingle, and the red light went on.
Harry’s mind went blank, and he wished he was at home having lunch with Emma, even facing a thousand Germans at Clemenceau ridge, rather than 11 million Americans enjoying their
breakfast.
‘Good morning,’ said Jacobs into his microphone, ‘and what a morning it’s been. First Gable, then Mel, and we end this hour of the breakfast show with a special guest
from Great Britain, Harry’ – he quickly checked the book’s cover – ‘Clifton. Now, before we talk about your new book, Harry, can I confirm that the last time you set
foot in America you were arrested for murder?’
‘Yes, but it was all a misunderstanding,’ spluttered Harry.
‘That’s what they all say,’ said Jacobs with a disconcerting laugh. ‘But what my eleven million listeners will want to know is, while you’re here, will you be
getting together with some of your old convict buddies?’
‘No, that’s not the reason I’m in America,’ began Harry. ‘I’ve written a—’
‘So Harry, tell me about your second impression of America.’
‘It’s a great country,’ said Harry. ‘New Yorkers have made me feel so welcome, and—’
‘Even the cab drivers?’
‘Even the cab drivers,’ repeated Harry, ‘and this morning I got to meet Clark Gable.’
‘Is Gable big in England?’ asked Matt.
‘Oh yes, he’s very popular, as is Miss Turner. In fact I can’t wait to see their new film.’
‘We call them movies over here, Harry, but what the hell.’ Jacobs paused, glanced up at the second hand on the clock, and said, ‘Harry, it’s been great having you on the
show, and good luck with your new book. After a few words from our sponsors, we’ll return at the top of the hour with the eight o’clock news. But from me, Matt Jacobs, it’s
goodbye, and have a great day.’
The red light went off.
Jacobs stood up, shook hands with Harry and said, ‘Sorry we didn’t get more time to talk about your book. Loved the cover.’
Emma sipped her morning coffee before opening the letter.
Dear Mrs Clifton,
Thank you for attending the board meeting last week. I am pleased to inform you that we would like to take your
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