My Magazine Ch 08

The news at 6:00 bulletin began and an official photograph of Lord Barcote recently released to the media appeared on-screen showing him smiling.

"Look, look," Marissa cried. "He's gloating!"

She was watching with her family including her 'gloating' father.

"No that's a new stock photograph - I think taken for the Government Dinner Menu & Entertainment Programme for the official visit to the UK of HRH Princess Lydia," corrected her mother.

"Here's your secret life coming to haunt you daddy," said Hayley, the quiet one.

They watched to the end of the interview with Jenni and then the TV set was switched off.

"So that treacherous woman thinks we'll forgive you, daddy. Well she didn't get that one right did she?" snapped Marissa, thinking that if her paternal grandfather had been alive he'd ordered a horse-whipping for his wayward son.

"Hush," commanded Marissa's mother. "Let us not rush into anything."

"Can we go and visit our half-brothers when all this dies down?"

Clifford didn't answer and Alice thought carefully before replying.

"I except so. They are just like any other relatives of ours and it's not their fault I'm not their mother."

"Would you have liked to be with child again at your age mother? That youngest one would have meant you becoming a mother at the age of thirty-eight."

"I would prefer not to discuss that at the moment, thank you Hayley."

"Very well mother dear."

The conversation rambled until Clifford looked at the clock and said perhaps they should watch Behind the Headlines to see if the woman who fronted that show had any comment.

"What, about you and your mistresses?" Alice said stiffly.

"Why aren't we receiving hundreds of phone calls and knocks at the front door?"

Clifford said, "Because our phones are disconnected and security has a man at our gates and another with a guard dog is patrolling the grounds Marissa."

Clifford pointed to the TV hand control.

Hayley picked up the hand-piece and tuned in to Behind the Headlines. The fleshy-faced Charmaine Eriksen was holding up a copy of

My Magazine

and the TV camera zoomed in for a close shot of the cover as the presenter announced that her next guest was the new magazine's editor Jenni Giles.

"I think I'll go to bed - I've had an exhausting day," said Alice, making Clifford wonder what she'd done until realising that she meant emotionally exhausting.

But as the studio lights came on, illuminating Jenni sitting in the guest's chair. Alice stayed put.

"Look," she commented. "She's changed her dress and has a different hairstyle than when she was on the news. Doesn't that deep bright green suit her?"

Clifford had no idea if it did or not but he noticed it outlined the contours of her body. She must be pushing fifty but looked quite attractive, really. As one could say, she looked very cuddly. As he began to fantasise, he was suddenly jolted back into reality as Charmaine looked at her notes, asking, "Miss Giles, you've no doubt had a number of affairs, would you like to tell us about them?"

"No next question please."

Marissa clapped her hands and said, "Good on you Jenni."

Hayley glanced at her mother and was pleased to see that Marissa's unexpected acclamation had not caused a further upset.

"Well then, may I deduce from that response that it is all very well for you and your magazine to tell the world about the affairs of somebody as important as head of British internal security but you are not prepared to have your own affairs placed into the public domain?"

"Charmaine I do not expect that I was invited into this studio to teach you your job, but I was specifically invited in to discuss with you my new magazine with some reference to our sensational disclosure story. Would you mind getting yourself back on track?"

"How much did you pay for that story Jenni?"

"That information will remain confidential; it's commercially sensitive."

"It could harm your credibility if you don't say how much."

"How much do you get paid to present this show Charmaine?"

"That has no relevance to this interview."

"Exactly and that's the answer to your payment question. May we move on?"

"What made you think British women needed another trashy magazine?"

"I have never given that any thought Charmaine. My publishing interest is aimed in the opposite direction - meeting the reading expectations at the top end of the market to cater for intelligent females."

Charmaine looked at her notes.

"People are expected to pay over £8 for each copy of your magazine purchased singly. Is not that blatant extortion?"

"Advertisers tend to think that rates to advertise on this television channel are set by extortionists but your channel has managed to survive. Why? It's because there are numerous reasons to justify paying for that advertising space. So will it be with our new magazine - providing numerous reasons for buying it."

"But think of the money-strapped women who simply can't afford such extravagance?"

"I think of them - and in her early days my mother was in that category. She was unable to lift herself into a more affluent state but she managed to get me started with a good education and support to make damn sure I had a good basis to achieve my dreams. I've paid more than eight pounds and more for a range of top magazines for some years because I can afford it and because they offer the quality of readership that attracts me. I can't be held responsible for people who cannot afford to read beyond their means."

"Fair enough and so why in packaging the glitter of expensive lipsticks and lotions, articles about beautiful people, inspirational articles about high achievers and a puerile piece about gold not being a golden investment for most individuals influenced you to buy and publish a sleazy story about a man having two illegitimate children - albeit a very powerful man?"

"My answer is in two bites. First, it is beneficial to readers - not puerile nonsense - to have their eyes to the possibility that gold does not glitter as a personal investment. Many people buy gold and sell it later, often a great many years later and at a loss. In extreme cases, for example during a civil war, a currency collapses or if escaping to become a refugee in a foreign land our article concedes that gold is one of the best things to have in your pocket. But then in times of extreme emergency how many investors in gold actually keep the gold bullion or very valuable gold objects on hand?"

"Secondly it is outrageous for anyone to describe our article on the secret life of Lord Barcote a sleazy story. It is a true, unemotional narrative of facts painstakingly verified and ultimately confirmed by the person in question."

"But you ran this sensational story that surely ought to be in a newspaper or television news bulletin rather than running in a magazine with advertisements extolling women to pamper themselves with skin moisturisers and renovation systems for fingernails?"

"I'm sorry, but I seemed to have missed the relevancy of that question. Perhaps you need to justify such specious argument that women might not be deserving of provocative, thoughtful reading in their magazines?"

Charmaine's hand furthest away from the camera went to her electronic ear-piece and she bent her head to listen to the instruction.

"I'm sorry Miss Giles. Let's move on."

"Will publication of this article and the reverberations arising from it help sell your magazine?"

"Yes and that's one of two principal reasons. I wished to launch our magazine with a bang."

"And the other reason is?"

"To push the interests of women who have been wronged by men. I'm not a feminist, far from it, but throughout my time as a journalist I have always been sympathetic to the struggle of women attempting to break through the glass ceiling as it's called. Part of their problem is the brotherhood of men that silently and I'm sure quite unrehearsed meshes to oppose the advance of women. That barrier acts much in the same way male sperm are collectively denied access to their goal until through strenuous unrelenting effort one of them breaks through."

"Miss Giles that analogy is rather inappropriate on prime time television when children are among our viewers."

"Well Charmaine, I would be willing to bet big money that you are not in favour of that outdated 'Aunty Knows Best' politically enforced decree imposed to curb a particular line of broadcasting during the so-called family viewing times being permitted to inhibit thoughtful and indeed responsible educational communication."

For the first time Charmaine smiled and she said touché. She pushed her notes away from her and continued.

"I have just been told my time with you has been extended. What do you think of other women's magazines that British women are offered?"

"They have impressive variety but yet there is much duplication because the market is overcrowded in some sectors. I repeatedly tell people that I having nothing against the tastes of women who turn to the so-called trash magazines or watch television programmes such as 'Coronation Street'. It's just that I have sampled such publications and programmes and found that they were not to my taste."

"Do you think publishers should pamper to below-par tastes?"

"Yes indeed and frankly it is unavoidable because there's a mass market out there for publishers as a whole to more or less align to each segment to meet differences in intellect and personal interests."

"Surely you're not saying that bimbos read trash magazines and egg-heads read the top-notch publications?"

"Re-phrasing the question, yes I would think that women who have not overly allowed themselves to be mentally challenged and educated will have a tendency to read magazines with lighter content that are heavier on graphics and illustrations."

"But Jenni - if I may call you that - that goes against the acknowledged publication phenomenon long known in the UK that when women's magazines publish photographs of royalty on their front covers, casual sales of such publications go through the roof in some instances."

"I know but conversely there are an awful lot of mentally unchallenged and educationally under-nourished women magazine readers in this country of ours."

"Wow Jenni - you're sticking your neck out on that one. Be prepared for the packs of baying hounds."

"We can't change the truth."

"Thank you, Jenni Giles, editor and publisher of

My Magazine

which makes its sensational distribution debut from tomorrow."

"Oh, just one more question Jenni: Do you think Lord Barcote will survive his current political and moral crisis?"

"Yes, his track record and sheer personality and perhaps family support will save him."

* * *

The noisy party at the offices of

My Magazine

had substantially decreased - virtually silenced when the introduction of 'Behind the Headlines' appeared on the big screen, with Nico shouting - "Quite please, here comes my Jenni!"

There was cheering and clapping when the interview with Jenni finished, but nothing like the reception she received when arriving back at the party forty-five minutes later with Charmaine, Mace the pumped up reporter and Colette the make-up queen in tow.

Nico hurried over to Colette with a glass of champagne for her.

"Hello my dear," he said with familiarity. "You look like is if you may be from the Old Country. Where were you born?"

"Down country on a farm in Devon," she said. "I arrived so quickly that I was a home birth."

"Oh," said Nico, appearing a little disappointed that she was not at least from somewhere in Europe. He eyed her bosom that seemed to have a life of its own.

"I saw you when you were here earlier this evening - you seem to move so well."

Colette smiled.

She was used to attracting old men who had difficulty controlling their urge to press flesh. What was his name - ah, yes, Nico. She was going to have fun stringing Nico along. This had the makings of a great party.

Snowy gave Jenni a long embrace, really putting his wife on edge. But Jenni being Jenni turned and smiled warmly at Gracie, saying, "You're lucky to have a fine man like this who dotes on you."

Snowy, midway through telling Jenni that she's got a million quid of free publicity in the past couple of hours, stopped and said: "You should get Zephyr to print more copies - heaps of them. There will be a run on bookshops in the morning."

"That's already underway, thanks Snowy. As I was leaving the studio I returned an urgent telephone message from Ron Wiggins, suggesting the same thing. The night shift would have been engaged on non-urgent printing and as we speak they're re-plating to print another twenty thou of your mag. I'm supposed to pay in advance but Ron told the night foreman that he would personally guarantee payment."

"Ron's a good mate, isn't he? You should have married him, Jenni. You both like each other so well."

"Yes Snowy. It had been discussed but we both agreed that while we liked each other, very much indeed, this mutual attraction amounted to nothing more than deep friendship and so Ron found someone else."

"Perhaps you should have married him," said Gracie quietly, her arm around Snowy, "and let your love for each other develop."

"What and risk ending up in the loveless marriage like my own parents? No thanks!" replied Jenni, a little edgy.

"Gracie meant no offence," hastened Snowy.

"I know - sorry Gracie. You unknowingly pressed a raw nerve."

"Come I would like to introduce you to Nico's wife. I think I need to divert her from Nico who's probably thinking he's all over that plump make-up lady from TV. Nico is an aged ex-playboy wishing to reinvent his past, but will do no harm."

"They sound foreign," said Gracie shyly. "Do you think Nico's wife will know any interesting dishes - I mean recipes?"

"Oh come with me Gracie, You're about to meet one of the great cooks of western civilization.

"Snowy please go over and talk to Nico. It will take some of the heat off when Katarina sees he's not alone with Colette."

As the two women walked over to Katarina Gracie said: "Have you seen the way that Colette flaunts herself? Why does she do it?"

"It's an age-old bees around a honey-pot technique, but let's not get into that. I think you want to talk recipes. Don't think of Katarina as being sharp - she'd really very lovely. Her apparent toughness is a variation of Colette's technique - she acts tough as it's the only way she can control Nico."

"I don't think I would be brave enough to try to control a man like that Jenni."

Katarina, seeing them approach, turned and held out her arms to embrace Jenni.

Jennie, a journalist who'd spent most of her working life attempting to analyse people she dealt with, accepted that people still managed to surprise her. Take Gracie, petite, rather shy and yet from what Snowy had more or less said, was an outright raver in bed. Whoever would have thought that? Obviously Snowy was smart enough to latch on to it. He'd been emotionally lonely and now had found the perfect answer.

Jenni felt happy for them both. She then began trying to imagine how Lady Alice was coping with her dilemma but Katarina interrupted that thought by drawing her into the conversation with Gracie.

* * *

A small movement toward seeking resolution had occurred inside the second reception room of the Barcote mansion. It occurred as the TV set was switched off at the end of 'Behind the Headlines'.

"That Giles woman seems very feminine and charming but exhibits a certain toughness, don't you think?" ventured the elder daughter Hayley, who was seven months' pregnant.

"No certainly not," snapped Marissa, her white cheeks beginning to flame. "She's a conniving bitch out to make herself a fortune from daddy's disgrace."

"Thank you Marissa, but we do not have that sort of language in my home," retorted her mother.

There was a brief silence.

"I forgive you daddy."

Hearing that declaration, with a muffled sob and hand over her mouth Alice fled.

"Why did you have to go and say that? Mummy's upset again."

"I also think about daddy," said Hayley, defiantly.

"That's all very well, but daddy's not the one who has been hurt to the core. You need to be more sensitive."

"Girls please keep your voices down. You mother does not need to hear this debate."

"She'll be up in her bedroom, with the door closed and crying," Marissa said.

Hayley got to her feet and padded over to the windows. She looked at the night sky and then turned to face her sister and father.

"One of us has to show leadership, and with your big mouth Marissa you are the obvious candidate. But oh no you are choosing to wallow in mummy's distress. Please grow up."

Her sister turned scarlet. She angrily brushed strands of light brown hair from her face.

"I turn twenty-one soon, and will not be spoken to as if I were a child."

"Well said Marissa," Hayley said. "At least we are now on the same wave-length. What do you propose doing to resolve this family dilemma? You are the one who's supposed to have all the brains."

"I don't know what we should do. You take the lead."

"Well I've taken my first step but mummy's rather theatrical exit rather spoiled the overture.

"Daddy?"

"It's quite simple, really. You have three options: Take mummy with you and run; adopt the mechanical approach and work to reach agreement between the three of you and then strive for resolution, seeking outside mediation assistance if necessary."

There was a pause, a technique well used by the public speakers and politicians.

Marissa did the asking: "And the third option?"

"Do what Hayley has just done and rely on your own instinct. One's instinct is usually true to one in moments of crisis, however it's not infallible."

"I desperately want to see my youngest brother daddy; he's so young."

"Half-brother," snapped Marissa, who was ignored.

"Perhaps that's the mothering instinct coming out in you Hayley but it gratifies me to realise you think like that. Just now is rather inappropriate for such a meeting, but it can be arranged later on if you still think this way. But remember, Jason has a brother."

"Jason - I like that name, daddy; it's a strong name."

"I do too," said Marissa, as if for the first time being able to humanise the situation. "What is the name of my other half-brother?"

"Douglas - that was his mother's choice. She was a Douglas from Scotland."

"Douglas is also a strong name."

"Yes, it is. He may grow into a person of very strong character like you Marissa."

"Perhaps Jason will become a top musician like you Hayley. But somehow I can't image him being a concert violinist - perhaps playing keyboard and singing, leading his backup group called the Argonauts."

"Very droll Marissa," said Clifford, and they all laughed.

"Daddy do you have photographs of our brothers? I'd like to see them."

Clifford stared at Hayley as if wanting to rush over and hug her. He'd picked all along that she'd break first, then Alice and finally Marissa - but it was difficult to predict anything about Marissa. In fact he'd not thought about her reaction to the youngsters but had known the other two females would burn with curiosity.

"Thank you for your interest Hayley but I think now would not be a good time with your mother the way she is."

"I want to see the photographs Clifford."

Alice was standing in the doorway, pale and red-eyed but and still grim around the mouth.

"I have come to my decision Clifford. I cannot leave you and I cannot bear to think that this crisis could bring this family down. We must act quickly to get it all behind us. I thought perhaps we should move overseas for a while. But please - I wish to see the photographs."