and sex with the presenters and journalists and technicians always at it. There is a grain of truth to this idea. We all spend long hours at the station and there is often a febrile atmosphere around the place. I’ve known of several liaisons between colleagues in my years at StoryWorld, and of course I met Ben here. But it does grate on me when I come up against the assumption that I’ve held onto my job all this time because of some sexual shenanigans. Yet here I was thinking the same thing about Fizzy. I joined Betty and Simon at the table with their drinks.
‘We have a few crackers this week,’ Simon said.
‘Tell me.’
‘A woman who is pregnant by her married boss and can’t decide whether to have the baby or a termination. Her biological clock is ticking and she’s desperate to have a child, but she’s afraid of doing it on her own. He’s made it clear that if she goes ahead she’ll get no support from him,’ he said.
‘That’s tough,’ I said.
‘What would you do in that situation?’ Betty asked as she sipped at her hot chocolate. She is a large woman and has a sweet tooth. Her being large seems to enhance her status as an agony aunt. There’s comfort and reassurance in her bulk.
‘Wanting a child is such a powerful thing and if I was in my mid-thirties I might go through with it and sod the man,’ I said.
‘This woman is in her mid-thirties,’ Simon said.
‘Yes, but the child won’t get the best start in life if the mother has no partner and no financial security,’ Betty said.
‘Lots of women have done it on their own successfully,’ I said.
‘Long-term research shows a child does better if there are two parents,’ Betty asserted.
I bristled at this.
‘Not if the parents are warring all the time.’
Simon jumped in. ‘We’ve also got a sixteen-year-old boy who wants to know how he should tell his parents that he’s gay.’
Betty put her cup down.
‘That was a heartfelt email. The poor troubled lad, his parents sound uptight and I’ll need to go carefully with that one.’
‘I look forward to hearing it tomorrow,’ I said.
My one criticism of Betty is that she takes a conventional approach to most issues. I wish that sometimes she would be more subversive in her advice.
*
In the evening I was taking Gerry and his partner Anwar out to dinner to celebrate his new longer contract with StoryWorld. I had arranged for Janis to babysit. I must stop using that word babysit; Flo gets insulted when I do. I wanted Gerry to feel cherished and had asked him where he wanted to go. He said Anwar was raving about a place in Soho called the Social Eating House so I booked us into there. After the team had left for the night I changed into a dark red velvet shirt and put on my silver drop earrings with the ruby stones; not real rubies, of course, semi-precious stones, but I like the way they catch the light. I brushed my hair. My hair is black and I’ve worn it in a short bob, without a fringe, for years. A bob is nice and low maintenance and I pay Ellen in make-up a small fee to cut it for me every two months. I peered in the mirror and saw a few more grey hairs at the parting. I applied dark red lipstick and was squirting perfume onto my hair when Julius walked in unannounced again.
‘Nice smell,’ he said.
‘Jo Malone. Wood Sage and Sea Salt.’
‘Very you; nothing conventional for Liz Lyon.’
‘How did your meeting with the sponsor go?’
‘Pretty good; I think I’ve landed them.’
Julius is brilliant at getting sponsors on board and it is one of the reasons his position at StoryWorld is unassailable.
‘And was Harriet helpful?’
‘She was like a rabbit caught in headlights.’
‘That’s strange. I find her rather poised and confident,’ I said.
‘It must be the effect I have on her,’ he said with an annoying smirk.
I turned to pick up my handbag.
‘Where are you off to in your glad rags?’
‘I’m taking Gerry and his partner out to dinner to
‘We have a few crackers this week,’ Simon said.
‘Tell me.’
‘A woman who is pregnant by her married boss and can’t decide whether to have the baby or a termination. Her biological clock is ticking and she’s desperate to have a child, but she’s afraid of doing it on her own. He’s made it clear that if she goes ahead she’ll get no support from him,’ he said.
‘That’s tough,’ I said.
‘What would you do in that situation?’ Betty asked as she sipped at her hot chocolate. She is a large woman and has a sweet tooth. Her being large seems to enhance her status as an agony aunt. There’s comfort and reassurance in her bulk.
‘Wanting a child is such a powerful thing and if I was in my mid-thirties I might go through with it and sod the man,’ I said.
‘This woman is in her mid-thirties,’ Simon said.
‘Yes, but the child won’t get the best start in life if the mother has no partner and no financial security,’ Betty said.
‘Lots of women have done it on their own successfully,’ I said.
‘Long-term research shows a child does better if there are two parents,’ Betty asserted.
I bristled at this.
‘Not if the parents are warring all the time.’
Simon jumped in. ‘We’ve also got a sixteen-year-old boy who wants to know how he should tell his parents that he’s gay.’
Betty put her cup down.
‘That was a heartfelt email. The poor troubled lad, his parents sound uptight and I’ll need to go carefully with that one.’
‘I look forward to hearing it tomorrow,’ I said.
My one criticism of Betty is that she takes a conventional approach to most issues. I wish that sometimes she would be more subversive in her advice.
*
In the evening I was taking Gerry and his partner Anwar out to dinner to celebrate his new longer contract with StoryWorld. I had arranged for Janis to babysit. I must stop using that word babysit; Flo gets insulted when I do. I wanted Gerry to feel cherished and had asked him where he wanted to go. He said Anwar was raving about a place in Soho called the Social Eating House so I booked us into there. After the team had left for the night I changed into a dark red velvet shirt and put on my silver drop earrings with the ruby stones; not real rubies, of course, semi-precious stones, but I like the way they catch the light. I brushed my hair. My hair is black and I’ve worn it in a short bob, without a fringe, for years. A bob is nice and low maintenance and I pay Ellen in make-up a small fee to cut it for me every two months. I peered in the mirror and saw a few more grey hairs at the parting. I applied dark red lipstick and was squirting perfume onto my hair when Julius walked in unannounced again.
‘Nice smell,’ he said.
‘Jo Malone. Wood Sage and Sea Salt.’
‘Very you; nothing conventional for Liz Lyon.’
‘How did your meeting with the sponsor go?’
‘Pretty good; I think I’ve landed them.’
Julius is brilliant at getting sponsors on board and it is one of the reasons his position at StoryWorld is unassailable.
‘And was Harriet helpful?’
‘She was like a rabbit caught in headlights.’
‘That’s strange. I find her rather poised and confident,’ I said.
‘It must be the effect I have on her,’ he said with an annoying smirk.
I turned to pick up my handbag.
‘Where are you off to in your glad rags?’
‘I’m taking Gerry and his partner out to dinner to
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