Chapter 7: The race resumes
The excitement in the afternoon air crackled like electricity. Erika nudged her raven-haired friend. "What do you think?"
Becky glanced at the blonde. What did she think? Other than not having seen much of Thomas lately, she thought that life was pretty much perfect. And she had Erika to thank.
It was the blonde who'd found the gym. She'd negotiated the purchase on Becky's behalf. They'd got it at a rock bottom price due to the Polish owner going bankrupt. It was perfect for Becky's needs, with very little work required other than a complete repainting, some cosmetic changes to the layout, and the purchase of some state of the art gym equipment.
Even the idea to combine an aerobics studio with a gym had been Erika's brainwave. So was the girl the blonde had recommended as Manager for the gym side. And as Lucille was working for a small percentage of the gym profits, she wasn't costing Rebecca a single penny.
The formal opening was scheduled for next Monday. The rest of the gym equipment would arrive by then. But the 'staged' opening today provided the media and the BBC TV London News Channel with a sneak preview of what was on offer. And it was superb publicity for the new studio.
Again, thanks to Erika's contacts.
Inside the studio, Rebecca's regulars were scattered across the wooden workout floor, grateful for the invitation and delighted for their chance to be seen on television. Just about every single one of them had pledged to follow her to her new base and today provided concrete evidence of their commitment.
In keeping with the occasion, the variety of gym wear usually on show had been replaced with new, sexy, leotards specially purchased for their TV appearance. Even the scruffiest of her clientele had made an extra effort today. It bode well for the future!
"It's so exciting," the Brazilian woman answered, crossing her arms over her chest as if hugging herself in congratulation. Her eyes focused on the large sign hanging so impressively over the entrance lobby.
Becky's
.
It was simple. It was perfect!
***
Two o'clock wasn't the best time to force a sandwich down his throat, but it was Alistair's first chance to eat since his arrival this morning. His six thirty start had been even earlier than usual.
The morning of press interviews had gone well. Putting a different spin on the same points over and over again was a skill all good politicians had. Alistair was just a little better at it than others. He'd made sure he seemed sympathetic to Mary O'Leary accusations, despite the constant attempts to provoke a more severe reaction.
The bottom line was that he was back in the race and now, his thoughts were focused on Glasgow.
Once he'd completed a couple of television interviews, he'd meet Katie for their early evening flight. It was a relief that Erika was catching a later flight. The last thing he wanted was for her to make uncomfortable Katie by bombarding with questions. Though his ex-girlfriend really was being exceptionally understanding about all this. Hell, she'd even booked a suite for him and Katie!!
Hmmm, something didn't feel quite right, though he couldn't put his finger on it. Nor did he have time to think about it.
He'd just put the phone down following his call to Brian Sterling. The conversation had been surprisingly tense. It seemed clear that Sterling didn't approve of him taking Katie away to Glasgow, no matter how much he tried to justify what he was doing.
Still, that conversation was behind him now. He'd thanked Brian for all his support, and now he could move forward.
Thomas's suggestion that they 'blow' the whole million that Guus Kessen was donating on television ads made a lot of sense. Okay, the money hadn't arrived yet, but he'd asked Thomas to chase the multi-millionaire immediately after the Election.
They'd flood the television stations with ads over the next two days. Newspapers, too. On the back of withdrawal of the Mary O'Leary accusations, the carefully focused ads would help attract as many of the 'undecideds' as they could.
"You'll get indigestion, eating that quickly," Sally told him with a smile, breaking his thoughts as she bustled into his office.
The black politician nodded, wiping his mouth with a paper serviette. "True, but right now I don't care," he told her, with a huge grin. "Got any chocolate?"
The redhead laughed. "Alistair, do you think any girl's going to be willing to share her chocolate? I do love you, but not
that
much!"
He smiled back. "I've just been through these ads," he said, nodding at the papers on his desk. 'It's a great idea to back up the TV commercials with newspaper ads. Especially those."
Sally grinned. "You like?"
He didn't just like. He loved! The 'attack' on Labour seemed like anything but, and clearly got the message over that there was only one party to be trusted. But it was his positioning that hit the spot. It was sublime, making him appear to have the same presence, wisdom and charisma of an early-elected Tony Blair, or dare one say a Barrack Obama. They'd pulled out all the stops!
"Perfect. Almost." He gave another one of those smiles, his white teeth gleaming. "I've marked a couple of changes, otherwise let's get going with them. Every second counts."
That was it, decision made. Guus Kessen had donated a million. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.
***
Deborah Barr had led the way, the tall brunette one of the most recognisable TV presenters in the City. The mobile television crew had been half an hour late, but at least they were here now. The slim presenter had been all business from the moment they'd arrived. She'd ensured her people had set themselves up properly, and briefed Becky on what was required from the interview.
"The leotard-clad women will provide the perfect background," she murmured as she ushered everyone into position. "The cameras will devour those bodies. If the male viewers enjoy this sight as much as the newspaper hacks here, we may have the highest viewing figures for some time. There tongues are hanging out!"
Rebecca laughed. It was true. Just about every male newspaper reporter had made a point of picking out a couple of women to obtain a few quotes and, in a couple of instances, telephone numbers also.
"Want to make a deal?" Deborah asked.
"A deal?"
"Mmm-hmm. You give me free membership for a year, and I'll make sure you get prime position in the programme tonight. I'll also tell viewers that I've joined. That'll get the men and women of London clamouring to sign up. They love their TV personalities."
The surprised Brazilian woman instantly took the proffered hand. "It's a deal," Becky said, meeting broad smile with broad smile.
"Okay, tell me again where everything is going," Deborah murmured, grinning in satisfaction with their arrangement. She glanced around. "It certainly looks fantastic."
It did, too! Rebecca's eyes took in the pristine looking polished wood aerobics floor, not yet scuffed by the soon-to-be assault of hundreds of pounding trainers.
"Okay, we have something of everything here already," she enthusiastically explained, pointing at the small amount of bicep and triceps machines, rowing machines, bicycles and weights on the far side. "But we'll have quadrupled the numbers by the time we open on Monday. They'll all occupy their own space in strict scientific order. That means we'll cater in turn for each of the body's muscle groups."
