The Cinderella Reflex (15 page)

“Yes, they do,” Paulina replied. “But we don’t want anybody going on a crash diet. We’re looking for someone with talent, brains and ambition, not a stick insect.”

“So what’re the criteria to win?” Andrea asked.

“As I said earlier, it’s up to you to convince us with your submissions.”

Jack leaned over to whisper something to Paulina. She looked surprised but nodded.

“Jack thinks that some people might like to put forward their names for the contest right now?” She looked at Rachel Joy. “And perhaps the media might talk to those people later about their ambitions?”

Helene threw her eyes heavenwards. Surely she didn’t think that was going to distract Rachel Joy from reporting on Ollie’s tired and emotional outbursts? She glanced over at Andrea who was opening a file with ‘
Ideas
’ marked on it in blue felt pen. The sight of it reminded Helene of all the ideas she’d had throughout the years, and how hard she’d worked to execute them. All the time and energy she had spent trying to make Ollie Andrew’s show successful and to get Richard to want to marry her. Where had it all got her? Nowhere, that was where. Maybe if she’d put all that energy into her own career she could have been as successful as Paulina was now.

Paulina had told her that she’d decided a long time ago to make herself the number-one priority in her own life. And looking at her there on the podium, talking discreetly to Jack about their plans, Helene felt a flash of envy mixed with admiration. Maybe it’s not too late, a little voice inside her suggested. Maybe this was an opportunity to reinvent herself? Richard had always promised Helene she would have her own show one day, but it had never happened. How could she be sure that he would ever leave Louisa either? It was the fear that made up her mind. Her hand shot up. If she declared herself as a contestant now she wouldn’t be able to talk herself out of it later.

“Yes, Helene?” Paulina smiled encouragingly.

“Hello, Paulina.” Helene stood up. “And … Mr McCabe.”

“It’s Jack,” he said with a smile.

“Well, Jack, my name is Helene Harper and I am currently an executive editor at Atlantic 1FM. I’d like to be considered for the new um … the new face of the station.”

“Traitor!” Helene heard Ollie hissing at her but she ignored him.

The photographer was angling his camera to get a close-up of Helene and she beamed at him encouragingly. She was in the limelight already! Out of the corner of her eye she could see Richard looking at her in bafflement but she ignored him as well, anxious that the photographer should get a good shot of her.

“Great, Helene. Well done!” Paulina looked pleased. She waved a pen in the air. “Anyone else?”

Sara sprang off her chair. “Count me in!”

“You? Up until recently you were only an assistant!” Ollie exploded.

“Why not? I’m young and I’m hot!” Sara whipped around to face Ollie.

The photographer abandoned Helene instantly and made a beeline for Sara, where he was rewarded with a sexy pout.

Ollie had had enough. He scraped back his chair and stood up.

“This contest is a charade,” he announced. “A cheap publicity stunt. I am currently the voice
and
the face of Atlantic 1FM. And I intend to stay that way. I have a loyal audience who will not be impressed if I am replaced by some … some … whippersnapper! And,” he turned to face Rachel Joy, “you can quote me on that!”

“Oh, I will.” Rachel was scribbling again, a beatific smile on her face.

“Yes, well, let’s wrap it up for today then, shall we?” Paulina said quickly. She sat down and shuffled her papers, looking drained. Jack put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Helene looked around the room, mentally checking out the competition so far, giving each of her potential rivals a score out of ten.

Andrea would only get a four – she was bound to put herself forward later on, but she had too many domestic commitments to be truly single-minded about the contest. Ollie was now clearly yesterday’s man so she was giving him a big fat zero. Sara was bright and energetic and certainly had potential but she lacked the killer instinct – too spoilt by Daddy’s money, Helene reckoned – and wouldn’t be prepared to put in anything like the work required. She would give her a six.

That left her as the leader by a long shot. Of course, there would be external candidates, but Helene liked a challenge. Isn’t that why she’d stuck with Richard for so long? As if on cue, she noticed Richard walking towards her, not bothering to hide his discomfort.

Helene hesitated. She had just made a very public pitch for a very public role when their plan had always been for both of them to make their new life far away from the limelight. Up to today, she would have been more than happy with that. She had seen her hopes of her own show fading over the years and she had come to accept that it wasn’t going to happen for her.

But now everything had changed. Richard’s intentions were unclear to say the least and now this career opportunity had opened up right in front of her.

“I need to talk to you,” Richard hissed.

He grabbed her by the arm and manhandled her towards a corner of the room, away from any eavesdroppers.

“What did you go and enter the competition for?” he asked.

“Because I want my own show! Why do you think?” She shrugged off Richard’s grip.

“I don’t want you in the limelight, Helene. You know that.”

“You know I always wanted my own show!” she retorted. They had never discussed how it had never happened for her. Whenever she had tried to bring it up in the past, Richard had changed the subject.

“I think Jack knows I’m having an affair!” Richard’s eyes were bulging slightly.

“With me?” Her pulse quickened.

“I don’t think he knows it’s with you. Yet. But if you’re competing for
It’s My Show
you’re hardly going to blend into the background, now are you?”

Helene raised her eyebrows. “Tell me what I’m missing here, Richard? You are leaving Atlantic. So our having an affair is Jack’s business because …?”

Richard averted his eyes. “Look, I haven’t been exactly straight with you about something. But now … well, I … I need to tell you that …”

“What?” Helene felt a stab of fear.

“Jack McCabe is Louisa’s brother.”

Helene stifled a laugh. “Richard, that is so spectacularly unfunny!”

“It’s not a joke,” he said flatly.

“Jack McCabe is your brother-in-law?” Helene was frankly incredulous.

“I’m afraid so. It’s the only reason he’s buying into the station in the first place.”

“And you’re only telling me this now?” She was genuinely mystified.

“I didn’t think you needed to know,” he said.

“Oh, so you’re like the CIA now – supplying information on a need-to-know basis?” she snapped.

“I’ve only just found out that Jack suspects I’m having an affair,” he pleaded. “It was something he said when he arrived today …” He threw a worried look back at the podium. “But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t realise it’s with you. So act professional.”

Helene followed his gaze and saw Jack’s eyes trained on them. It’s actually true, she thought, sick to the pit of her stomach. He did suspect something. Then another thought struck her.

“So this means that Anna and David are – Jack’s niece and nephew?”

Richard nodded. Helene clutched her stomach. Jack McCabe was going to hate her. Not only would she not get the
It’s My Show
gig, she would probably be booted out of her job altogether.

“Are you sure he doesn’t know that I’m the other woman?”

Richard shook his head. “I’ve just said. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t.”

“I’ll withdraw from the contest. I’ll resign from Atlantic 1FM altogether. We can go away, me and you. We can go travelling!” She grasped his arm. “I’ve been to this amazing new café at the end of the village. It’s called the Travel Café and you can find out anything you want to know about trips abroad. I know the guy who runs it and he’ll help me. I’ll do all the research, plan our itinerary … Richard, maybe this is all for the best. Now we’re forced to be up front with people, we can finally be together. And it won’t be as difficult as it would be if we were still living and working around here.”

She stopped, conscious that she was babbling.

“Are you mad?” It was his turn to shrug her off. “I can’t leave my children to go off gallivanting with you. And I’ll have to build up a new business. Look, we just need to lie low for a while, that’s all. You pull out of the contest – take the attention away from yourself. And obviously we won’t be able to see each other for a while …”

Helene shivered. Her hunch had been right. All that talk about him leaving Louisa was just that – talk.

“If we’re not seeing each other it won’t matter whether or not I’m in the contest.”

“I’d still prefer if you weren’t.” Richard was adamant. “And it would be better if you left the station because I’m going to have to work here for a few more months, during the handover period.”

She took a deep steadying breath. Did Richard actually think she was that much of an eejit that she was going to give up her job after what he’d just told her? She looked at him as if he were a stranger. And it was in that moment that the scales finally fell from her eyes. Richard only had one agenda going on here and that was his own best interest. Was that how it had always been? Helene still didn’t know. But she was sure of one thing. All the energy she had poured into him and into the Ollie Andrews’s programme would now be going in one direction only. Towards Helene Harper Inc. She was surprised at the frisson of excitement that shot through her at the thought of it. In fact, as soon as she’d stood up to declare her interest in
It’s My Show
, she’d felt an energy, a high, she hadn’t experienced in years.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Rachel Joy standing close by, throwing curious glances their way. On impulse she stepped towards her.

“Hi, Rachel. Can I tell you about my plans for the contest? It’s Helene Harper. Helene, spelled with an ‘e’.”

As Rachel opened her notebook on a new page, Helene watched Richard going back up to the podium, looking murderous, and she knew she had crossed a line. But if Jack McCabe was looking for the next big thing, who deserved it more than she did, after working so hard for the last five years? He need never find out that
she
was the one Richard was having the affair with.

For the next while, Helene concentrated on her interview with Rachel Joy. Then she gathered up her belongings and swept out of the room, barely giving Richard a glance as she passed him by. She was in the contest now and, after the conversation they had just had this evening, she was definitely in it to win it.

Chapter Ten

Tess opened her eyes and lay very still, aware of something nudging at the edge of her consciousness, something vaguely worrying. Still half asleep, she automatically ran through her to-do list for the week.

There was that weekend home she’d been promising herself. There was the mountain of laundry piling up in her closet. And she wanted to finish reading a new self-help book about dealing with difficult people. Its basic message was that there was no such thing as difficult people, only people with difficulties, and Tess had made up her mind to adopt this strategy in future when she was dealing with Ollie.

And then she remembered. She wouldn’t have to deal with Ollie Andrews today. Or tomorrow. Or ever again. She had been sacked from Atlantic 1FM.

Ever since that night in Ryan’s bar, Tess had retreated into a self-protective state of shock, refusing to face reality. This was how she coped when bad things happened – she convinced herself that if she didn’t acknowledge it then it couldn’t be so.

Andrea had been texting every day begging her to get in touch with Helene Harper and sort it out, until finally Tess had replied that she didn’t want to talk about it. In truth she had been half expecting Helene to call, realising she’d overreacted and asking her to come back to work. But it hadn’t happened and finally Tess had switched off her mobile just to stop herself checking it every five minutes.

She shoved her feet into her slippers and pulled on her ancient pink dressing gown. It was the comfort garment she had taken with her when she left home, the one she wore whenever she had a bad day. She had worn it for a month after Chris Conroy dumped her. She had worn it when her sister Verity had gone to live in London. And she had worn it every day since she had been sacked.

She pulled the belt tightly around her now and wandered into the kitchen. It was time to face reality. Okay, so she had never been sacked before but she had been unemployed many times in the last decade and something had always turned up. Of course the whole reason she had worked so hard at Atlantic was because she had thought it was her chance to get a foot on the ladder of a real career. But it hadn’t worked out and it was time to move on.

She filled the kettle and rooted around in the cupboards, making a face at the couple of slices of stale bread lurking there. She used to buy a coffee and croissant on her way to work and eat breakfast at her desk. She’d have lunch out with Andrea and pick at something in the evening. Clearly the first thing she had to do in her new life was to stock up on food. Now that she was unemployed she could seize the opportunity to sort out her life completely, tackle all the stuff she’d put off because she’d been too busy or stressed or preoccupied.

The kettle hissed to boiling point. She threw a teabag into a mug, added water and a drop of milk and wandered into the living room. She sank onto the sofa and leaned back, racking her brain as to what she should do next.

She felt too bruised to start over quite yet. She couldn’t trust Helene to give her a good reference either. She opened her laptop to check the online version of the
Killty Times
with the forlorn hope that she might find something in the jobs ads that might suit her for a few weeks while she was wondering what to do next. Her eyes widened when she saw their lead story.