Page 87 of Happily Never After
‘It’s pretty simple. Our studio is on level two, so the only floors I’m allowed to access are level two, this level and the basement, where the canteen is. When I scan my pass, it knows that, and will allocate me to a lift that isn’t going to visit any other floors.’
‘But surely you could just get in another one anyway?’
‘I could, but I wouldn’t get very far. You have to scan your pass to get out of the lift lobby on every floor, and it won’t let you if you’re not authorised to go there. Worse, you could end up stuck, because your pass won’t let you summon a lift from somewhere you’re not supposed to be, so you have to wait for someone to come along and take pity on you.’
‘Blimey, sounds more like a villain’s lair than a TV studio.’
‘Security is very tight. Production companies are understandably paranoid about their intellectual property, so they don’t want random strangers wandering in and possibly stealing it.’
‘But aren’t they all working for the same channel?’
‘Oh, no. This is a shared space. Production companies rent studios as and when they need them.’
In true British tradition, we fall silent and stare at the floor number display while we’re inside the lift, despite being the only people in here. I’m very aware of Finn’s hand still holding mine. It may only be a small act of intimacy, but it’s making my heart thump hard in my chest.
‘We’re in the middle of the second show of the day,’ he continues once we’re out of the lift and have navigated another set of security barriers.
‘You film more than one a day?’
‘Yes. Five, to be precise. It’s a tall order, but one of the things audiences like is to see contestants more than once, sowe start with five in each show. We replace the person who gets to the final every time, but keep the others. It gives a sense of continuity through each week. A lot of shows do it.’
‘I assumed you put them up in hotels for the week or something.’
‘Nothing so flash. We do ask them to bring changes of clothing so it looks like time has passed between each show and we offer them a room the night before because it’s an early start, but they’re only here for a day.’
‘Sleight of hand.’
‘Sleight of TV.’ He opens a door into a room that looks like the bridge of a spaceship and ushers me inside. ‘This is the control room,’ he says softly. ‘It’s the best place to watch the action from and we can speak, but we’ll have to keep our voices down because the people in here are talking to the presenter via his earpiece, the camera operators and so on, so we need not to distract them.’
As if on cue, a man sitting at the spaceship desk leans forward to a microphone and says, ‘He’s a philatelist, Elliott. Ask him about that. Make it sound like you don’t know that it’s stamp collecting and imply it might be something a bit smutty instead. Camera 3, standby to capture Elliott’s expression when the contestant explains.’
I watch as one of the large screens on the far wall zooms into the presenter’s face, just as he phrases the question, raising his eyebrow in a manner that’s very slightly suggestive, without going into full-on clown mode.
‘You got Elliott MacIntosh to present?’ I ask. ‘I’ve heard of him. Isn’t he the poster boy for just about everything at the moment?’
Finn shrugs, feigning nonchalance, but the smile on his face betrays him. ‘Apparently, he adored the concept and couldn’t wait to get involved.’
‘You’re loving this, aren’t you?’
‘Of course,’ he murmurs. ‘I’m literally seeing my baby, our baby, come to life. Come over here. I’ve arranged for a couple of chairs so we can watch in comfort. I might have to abandon you periodically, but I’ll be here as much as I can be.’
It doesn’t take long before I’m completely caught up in the action. There’s so much going on, and being able to hear the commands from the control room played out seamlessly on screen just makes it all the more magical. Every so often, everything stops and runners rush on to the set to add or remove props.
‘The audience at home will be watching an ad break during these bits,’ Finn explains when I ask about it. ‘You can cover all manner of sins with an ad break.’
By the time the head-to-head comes around, I’m leaning forward in my chair willing the contestants on. Neither of them correctly identified the rogue item, which was a painting in round three, so whichever of them wins will have the disappointment of seeing their prize halved.
‘Welcome back,’ Elliott says, smiling warmly into one of the cameras. ‘Before the break, we said goodbye to Sandra, but Richard and Sarah have played a superb game so far and are ready for their next challenge, the head-to-head. In this round the objects sold for a value of between ten and twenty thousand pounds, so there’s the possibility of adding up to twenty thousand pounds to your prize fund. Sarah, that would more than pay for your new kitchen. What else would you spend the money on?’
‘I’d take my mum on holiday somewhere hot,’ Sarah replies. ‘She’s done so much for me, it would be lovely to do something nice for her.’
‘What a kind thought,’ Elliott almost simpers. ‘Of course, the final prize amount hinges on whether the winner has correctlyidentified the item that didn’t belong in its category, so the stakes couldn’t be higher. OK, first to play is the person with the lowest prize fund and that’s you, Richard. Here’s your first item.’
Unfortunately for poor Richard, his guesses are miles off and Sandra pretty much wipes the floor with him, securing her place in the final. After bringing in the props for the last segment, filming resumes with Elliott reminding the audience once again that her final prize amount depends on whether she picked the correct rogue item. She hasn’t, of course. All the contestants missed the rather ordinary-looking painting with the initials WSC in the corner, which meant it had been painted by Winston Churchill and was actually worth a fortune. Sandra leaves with enough money for her new kitchen though, which seems to satisfy her.
‘Right, lunch break,’ Finn announces as the runners appear to start setting up for the next show. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘I am.’
