Finger Food by Helen Lederer Page A

I’ve just stepped off a train from Paris … I’ve won awards … do you really think you could host a show like this? Do you really think Tony Trimble would employ you to front-up anything? You are living in a dream world, my lovely …’
    Something snapped in Bella. Her mother, Yvonne, and now this white-clad product placement queen telling her what she wasn’t capable of.
    Bella rose shakily from her wine stool. ‘I may be living in a dream world,’ she said, her voice raised to the same level as Juliet’s. ‘But you’renot going to take it away from me.’
    She picked up a cake knife.
    Juliet’s eyes widened in horror and the audience let out a howl. The St John Ambulance woman stood up, but the man in the bow tie told her to sit down again. He was having the time of his life.
    Bella wielded the knife menacingly.
    â€˜Juliet, you’re going to help me now in my stunning daytime TV debut. I’ll be the toast of Take a Break , and housewives up and down the land will pause mid-Dyson to note my handy tips.’
    Bella scanned the kitchen area and her eyes settled on a row of cakes laid out with a blender and raspberries for the final feature.
    â€˜We’re going to make a raspberry ice cream, Juliet,’ she said, waving the knife wildly, ‘simple, yet brilliant. To be eaten with any other pudding you can think of. And I’ll be using real raspberries. Have you ever heard of anything real? Finger Food will be like daytime TV should have been, with realpersonalities.’
    She took a step closer to Juliet. ‘Go on. Force those raspberries through the sieve.’
    Juliet start to whimper but it seemed none of the audience wanted to help her. Some had taken up a chant: ‘Go Bella! Go Bella!’
    Bella turned to the blender. It was already full of pinkish liquid, which was confusing since the ice cream mix had not yet been made. There was a strange smell to it, too. Not like raspberries at all. She wrinkled her nose.
    â€˜You can stop with the raspberries now, Juliet,’ she said brightly. Juliet looked nervously at the knife.
    â€˜Taste this ice cream,’ said Bella. ‘Go on, Juliet. Have a taste.’
    Juliet recoiled from the blender, which even Bella had to concede did not look much like any ice cream she’d made before.
    There was a familiar clickety-clicking as Yvonne’s high heels arrived on set.
    â€˜Bella!’ she shouted. ‘I will personally see to it that you never work in television again!’
    Fiona grabbed the set of boards which she used to tell the audience what to do and chose the one which said ‘go crazy!’ She shook it at the audience and they immediately started clapping in a crazy way. But this only encouraged Bella to shout over the applause.
    â€˜I am the voice of the little people,’ she shouted, waving the knife at the audience. ‘I am the voice of low-brow television. And no, I didn’t get left behind, it’s the formats that got smaller. When I click my fingers. I, Bella Le Parde, will shape the dreams of those who desire a second bathroom with a budget beachhut feel …’
    Yvonne screamed up to the gallery, ‘KILL THE LIGHTS!’
    The set was thrown into darkness. Everyone was quiet.
    Yvonne yelled, ‘PUT THEM ON AGAIN!’
    Bella suddenly felt a little dizzy.
    Yvonne cleared her throat and addressed the audience.
    â€˜I have an announcement to make. I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen. As you can see we have a very unusual situation. Bella Le Parde will no longer have a place on Flair 4 Living.’

Chapter 10
    To Yvonne’s surprise the audience started to boo.
    â€˜And Fiona will be sacked for being sick in a TV kitchen implement!’ she added.
    Bella looked at the blender in surprise.
    There were more boos. For a moment Yvonne looked alarmed, but then turned the full force of her fury on Bella, and spoke in a