Finger Food (3 page)

Chapter 6

Sea shanty music blared out, and Bella took the melons out of the box and placed them on the countertop.

‘Now, the joy of these little dainties is that everyone can make them,' she found herself saying. She was happy, she realised. She was with food. And if she wasn't sure what kind of food, she could make things up. As the music faded out she got into her stride.

‘Let's face it, everyone's got a melon haven't they?' she said, holding one up in explanation. She glanced quickly at Fiona who was smiling encouragingly.

‘Everyone's got napkins and everyone's got cocktail sticks and, if they haven't, everyone can go out and buy them because these are the ingredients you'll need.'

Taking the nearest melon, Bella sliced it deftly in half and scooped out a portion. She took a napkin and fashioned it into a sail. The audience watched as the melon was transformed into a table display.

‘Looks nothing like a boat, Bella!' Yvonne's voice sounded out, and a slice of melon slipped from Bella's hand.

‘And another use of these yummy scrummies is that, er, you could make them into a swimming pool area for a pet budgie if your budgie wanted a water feature which it could also nibble on.'

Bella couldn't see the audience under the bright studio lighting. The old people were attentive, but silent.

Bella started to babble. She started to think up more unlikely uses for her ‘melon boats', each of them crazier than the last. Eventually the sea shanty music abruptly started up again loudly, followed by some swearing from the gallery. It seemed no one had dared tell Yvonne that her voice button had been left on and the audience perked up at the fruity language.

‘Cut!' Yvonne changed the tone of her voice, in the belief that this was the first the audience was hearing from her.

‘Bella, just make the melon boats look as normal as you can. NOW!'

The sea shanty music started again, Bella took a firm hold of the melon and tried to block out thoughts of Yvonne being cross. She put on her best presenter smile.

‘So simply hollow out the melon which I've done here, and then put on the sail and very quickly … don't get worried about knots or other sailing know-how … I've prepared these sails earlier but you don't have to. You just have to believe and say, I'm a boat, I'm a canoe, let's rock!'

She was enjoying herself, she realised and the audience were laughing along with her. Then she caught sight of Fiona who was madly trying to signal some instructions at her by waving her arms about. After a moment or two it came to her that Fiona was telling her to move the melons so that a camera could do a close-up shot of them.

She tilted the melon boats a little nearer the camera.

A screen flashed an image of how the melon boats should have looked. Totally different to Bella's, but, she thought with pride, not as well put together. The comparison brought a surge of confidence. She'd been thrown onto the set with nothing more than a box of melons and napkins and had made something better than a researcher with hours to dream up a display.

With a little smile of triumph Bella turned to Fiona to try to find out what the next challenge might be. But Fiona had now turned her back on the audience and was whispering into her phone in a worried way. Bella could just hear her.

‘I'm saying it's up to you, but if I have, in any way, done something to make you not want me … do text me. Maybe in the next half-hour … because then I can truly accept whatever crime I may have committed … in the name of love … and I'll learn to never upset you … ever again. If you're dead or lying run over in a ditch somewhere, then please try to make contact … use predictive texting to save energy until the ambulance gets there … bye … oh it's me, bye.'

‘Fiona, could you focus, please!' Yvonne's voice boomed out and everything came to a halt. ‘Unless you want to be sacked immediately. Bella! Move to the sofa area! Introduce the first guest.'

Then while Yvonne thought no one could hear she muttered, ‘They're as bad as each other. Unbelievable.'

While the set was in chaos the audience had perked up no end. The old man who had liked Bella's ‘drawers' turned to the St John Ambulance lady with the knitting. ‘This beats
Emmerdale
hands down!' he announced.

Bella headed towards the brightly coloured sofas to do an interview with someone. She had no idea who this might be. Then she caught sight of Fiona pointing. Following the direction of her finger she saw that a dog-eared handwritten note lay on the sofa.

Bella grabbed it and saw to her relief that it contained a few facts about the guest. She squinted at the writing. Fiona had jotted down some details, but it was a scribble of mad text rather than clear points.

Cora Johnson,she mouthed to herself, trying to memorise the information. Meals on Wheels.

Without warning another jingle blared and the cameras swung in on Bella.

In a voice she hardly recognised as her own Bella read in a loud bright voice, ‘So now let us welcome our
Finger Food
'sguest of the week on to the pilot … she has become famous in a matter of weeks … from a humble Meals on Wheels volunteer to an internationally top-selling cookery writer and campaigner for …'

She glanced quickly down at the paper.

‘Mood-swing food! If you please! What's that about? Let's find out. Please welcome Mrs Cora Johnson!'

Chapter 7

A large woman of middle years in a tweed suit almost ran on to the set in a state of great excitement. She stood twitching slightly. Bella stared meaningfully at the luminous yellow sofa.

The sound of Yvonne's muttering echoed through the studio.

‘Sit, sit, you big dod of lard.'

Clearly no one was going to risk telling Yvonne her radio mike was broadcasting every remark to the wider floor. Cora was too excited to consider this remark could be about herself and remained standing and smiling. Bella stood up and guided her firmly to a seat on the sofa.

‘Hello, Cora, and welcome!'

Cora leaned forward. Bella hoped this would be a quick interview and over soon.

‘Well, Cora, being a lowly Meals on Wheels volunteer you must be thrilled with your sudden fame …'

Cora started babbling. ‘Yes, I am … yes. I'm being let off work to do the publicity so it's all very exciting … I'm heavily pencilled in for
The One Show
next week.'

Bella glanced back at her page and then noticed that Cora had arrived with a recipe book with Cora Johnsonacross the front.

‘So what gave you the idea to write a cookbook with a sausage on the front?I see you've got it there with you.'

‘I have!' Cora held up the book delightedly. ‘Well, it's a very funny story actually.'

‘Fingers crossed!' interjected Bella. The audience laughed.

‘I was just doing my normal rounds,' said Cora. ‘I cover about twenty miles this side of the M25 and my colleague, Muriel, she covers the north side … which can take over an hour depending on the traffic … although I will veer off onto a B road if there's an emergency …'

‘And moving to the snappy and interesting bit?' urged Bella.

The audience laughed again but Cora could not be stopped.

‘Well, on a Tuesday, Wednesday and Sunday, we always do a meat and rice dish whereas on a Friday we'll do a fillet of fish with peas … weekdays can vary, but in the main we offer them mince but anyway, it was always on a Friday I had problems with my gentlemen clients …'

‘She's a volunteer you see, a carer who some people might find quite interesting,' said Bella in a bid to win back the audience. ‘Or not,' she added.

The old man who had been chatting up the St John Ambulance lady piped up.

‘Not!'

More laughter followed.

‘In fact it was only when my neighbour's son came home in an angry mood. ThenI made the connection …!'

Bella felt she saw light at the end of the tunnel. Cora had paused for effect, holding her book aloft.

‘Which was?' prompted Bella.

‘That certain recipes affect moods. Fish and peas make you angry!'

‘Which might explain why Captain Birdseye had such a red face?' offered Bella.

Cora ignored this.

‘Whereas rice, pork and peas make you a bit
saucy
. I had to stop wearing skirts on a Friday after that … it was fairer to the old people really … even if they had to eat with their fingers. I couldn't risk bending over to pick up cutlery.'

Bella was trying hard to follow. ‘And the funny bit of your story?' she ventured.

Cora looked put out. ‘It was more funny peculiar.'

‘Right.' Bella tried to look interested. ‘And your point about the cookbook?'

‘Well …' Cora took a deep breath. Bella winked at the audience and added, ‘In your own time', which got a laugh.

‘My menus can serve as both a caution and a delight. I mean, what could be better than tucking into one of my creamy pasta dishes at the same time as being warned about a dangerous urge brought on by pork, rice and peas? It's all in the mix, you see.'

Bella nodded, smiled, and moved to wrap things up, hoping that she would never see Cora again. Ever. She looked up at the gallery, silently cursing Yvonne for allowing this terrible guest loose on the show without warning her.

‘Well, ladies and gentlemen, there you have it.' Bella turned back to the audience and felt an apology might be justified. Instead she said, ‘A stunning array of recipes to put us in a better mood! Do we have any questions?'

The man next to the St John Ambulance lady put his hand up.

‘Yes, you, with the bow tie,' said Bella, suddenly feeling in charge. A cameraman swiftly turned his camera upon the man in the bow tie.

Jumping away from her phone Fiona raced towards the audience with a microphone.

‘Do you want to come over and see to my sausage, Cora?'

Encouraged by the audience's laughter the man added a rather lewd gesture involving his forearm and a fist. The cameraman had swung away just in time.

Up in the gallery Bella heard Yvonne's muttered swearing. As did everyone else. The audience clearly thought it was part of this rather rude new food pilot.

‘Well I think you've made a great hit there, Cora!' Bella stood to lead the guest out. ‘Cora! Ladies and gentlemen.'

The audience clapped but Cora didn't budge from the sofa. After an uncomfortable moment Fiona darted in and dragged Cora off. She waved as she went.

Suddenly a man with white hair and a turtle-neck jumper stepped though the side doors of the studio. He'd been watching for a while and was now clapping Cora and Bella.

Bella recognised him instantly. It was Tony, the head of Flair 4 Living TV. She managed to keep the professional smile glued to her face.

Over the turtle-neck he wore a blazer with gold buttons, above check trousers and very pointy leather shoes. He reminded Bella of a cross between Richard Madeley and Basil Brush. Tony waved in a royal way at the audience and said to Bella, ‘Carry on!' with a little wink. He put his tongue inside his cheek at the same time and sauntered up to the gallery.

There was an audible gush from Yvonne as he arrived in the gallery. ‘Tony? Darling!'

Fiona had returned to the set and looked scared. ‘The biscuits are in the gallery,' she said, looking anxiously at where Tony had sauntered off.

There was a pause around the set as the crew waited for Tony to settle himself.

Fiona swivelled over to Bella and said under her breath, ‘That was Tony!'

‘I know,' Bella replied. She didn't like to see Fiona so frightened.

‘He's the boss,' explained Fiona in awe.

‘Not quite,' said Bella, deciding to dispel some of the terror Tony put in Fiona. ‘His
wife
'sthe boss.'

Fiona looked shocked. ‘His wife?'

Bella nodded. ‘Tony's wife pays for all of this. For your lovely T-shirt, for the studio, for the melons … and, well everything. Without Tony's wife there'd be no Flair 4 Living TV!'

‘Imagine!' said Fiona in disbelief.

‘Exactly! So how are things with Zee Zee? Any news?' Bella felt a flash of anger. Fiona seemed such a sweet girl. Zee Zee shouldn't be messing her around.

‘Well …' Fiona was about to launch into her favourite subject when muffled kissing sounds came over the gallery. Then the sound of Yvonne's voice.

‘I'm so sorry about Bella, Tony … she's obviously over-excited and panicking. I
told
you she's hopeless and now you can see she is! But worry not! She's only here for …'

Bella bit back her annoyance.

There were more smooching sounds.

‘I thought she was quite good,' said Tony. ‘She handled that randy old gent rather well.'

The whole audience turned to look at the man in the bow tie who looked most put out. He stood to his full height of five foot three. ‘Old? I'm not old!'

‘Is she here?' It was Yvonne again, this time in ‘studio mode'.

‘Yes. I'm here,' said Bella, looking around in confusion. To her surprise Fiona had gone completely red.

‘Yes, we know
you
are, Bella,' said Yvonne. Adding under her breath, ‘More's the pity,' and then more loudly, ‘I was talking to Fiona. Is she here yet? I was told she would be arriving on the 5.45. Now we've got Tony, I was hoping this ridiculous situation would be resolved.'

‘Er …' Was it Bella's imagination or was Fiona looking in her direction with a very guilty expression. ‘Er, yes?'

She must still be upset about Zee Zee, Bella decided. But the fact that Tony was here meant she could finally prove herself as a presenter who had a way with an audience. And even though the first two features had been disasters, she was beginning to enjoy herself.

‘Can you get her in make-up then? Bella, can you fill in?'

Bella was again confused. Had Yvonne finally decided that her shining face could do with some make-up, after all? Or should she fill in?

‘Who or what do you mean, Yvonne? Make-up or fill in?'

‘You fill in.'