Page 12 of Mistaken Impression

“No,” she says, and I can hear the impatience in her voice. “We’ll record in advance, one episode per week.”

The woman sitting beside me leans a little closer. “Recordings take place on a Thursday.” I can’t remember her name, but I know she said she was the floor manager, which even I realise means she’s pretty much in charge of everything that happens in the studio.

“Thursday?”

She nods her head. “Most of the week will be taken up with preparations and rehearsals, we’ll record on Thursdays and allow Fridays to pick up any continuity errors or other mistakes that need re-recording, and also for Ella to begin work on the following week’s content.”

I feel a hand on my arm and turn to see Kennedy leaning right over, across Ella, which strikes me as rude. Her eyes are fixed on mine, though, in a way that tells me I need to keep quiet.

“I know you’re new to this, but trust me, it’ll be fine.”

I’m not entirely ‘new’ to this, but I refrain from telling her that and I smile and nod my head, wondering why she keeps saying ‘trust me’, like that. In my experience, when someonefeels the need to repeat those two words, it usually means ‘run… run as fast as you can, and don’t look back’, and while I’m tempted, I like to eat, so I’m staying put.

She sits back and opens her mouth to say something else, just as Ella raises her hand, copying my earlier action. Kennedy turns to her, her face like thunder at yet another interruption. Not that Ella seems to notice.

“Can I ask…” she says.

“Ask what?”

Kennedy’s impatience is getting the better of her and I half expect Ella to blush and say it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t, though. She frowns and says, “About the guests and their questions. Will I have any input in choosing which ones are selected for each episode? And will I get to meet the people first?”

Kennedy rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to worry about any of that. The selections have already been made…”

“By whom?” Ella interrupts her, and I bite my lip, trying not to smile. She might have been nervous before, but she’s got the bit between her teeth now, and she’s not letting go.

“By me.”

“I see. Your knowledge and experience of cookery being…?” Ella leaves her question hanging and I – along with just about everyone else in the room – brace myself for Kennedy’s response. It won’t be good. That much is obvious from the dark expression on her face.

“Irrelevant,” she snaps. “The questions have been chosen because they’ll make good television.”

“And the guests?” Ella persists. “The members of the public?”

“They’re not members of the public. They’re actors.”

“Seriously?” The word leaves my lips and everyone turns to me. I knew the whole thing was a sham – I’m evidence of that – but they’re not even going to use real guests?

“Yes, seriously.” Kennedy huffs, shaking her head. I guess she’s not used to justifying herself. “In a situation like ours, involving members of the public is fraught with all kinds of dangers. We’re going to use genuine problems, sent in by viewers, but have actors play the parts of the people presenting them.” She pushes a blue folder across the table in Ella’s direction, as though the subject is now closed. “This is the list of questions you’re going to be working on during this season.”

Ella hesitates for a moment, like she’s not sure whether she’s supposed to open the file now, but Kennedy looks down at it rather pointedly, and Ella folds back the flap, pulling out the top sheet, and glancing down at it. The room falls to silence, all eyes fixed on her, which is unfortunate, because it means we all hear her snort of laughter.

“What’s wrong?” Kennedy says, frowning and sitting forward in her seat.

Ella looks up. “This…” She taps the piece of paper. “It isn’t a problem, and even if it were, the answer is common sense, and certainly doesn’t need explaining on a television show.”

Kennedy glances over, presumably to refresh her memory, as she’s just told us she selected the ‘problems’ herself. “It might be common sense to you, dear, but it isn’t to everyone. That’s the whole point of the show. We’re taking cookery back to basics.”

She looks around the table for support and gets it in the form of nodding heads and sycophantic smiles. Ella blushes and I feel sorry for her, watching as she puts the piece of paper back into the folder again. I wonder about saying something, even if it’s just to ask what the ‘problem’ is, but that would probablyonly make matters worse, and I think in her shoes, I’d rather forget the whole thing.

The woman sitting beside me leans forward. “Shall I show Ella and Blake around the studio?” She’s looking at Kennedy, but I sense a solidarity with Ella and myself… or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. I’m feeling very much on the outside here.

“I think that would be an excellent idea.” Kennedy’s reply makes me think she’ll be glad to see the back of us, especially as she stands the moment she’s finished speaking. The others follow suit, filing from the room, until we’re left alone, just the three of us.

I get the feeling Ella’s still smarting from Kennedy’s remarks, and it wouldn’t hurt to take some of the heat from her, so I turn to the other woman. “Forgive me… I can’t remember your name.”

She smiles. “I’m Ruby.”

“The floor manager, right?”