Making Headlines, page 11
It seemed even her limited exposure on television was enough to attract the gaze of Melbourne’s public relations community. There were more and more invitations to opening nights, film previews, industry events and restaurant galas. The city’s social set was opening its arms wide and Rachel’s diary was filling up fast. She’d go to parties with her girlfriends and submerge herself in the fast noise and blaring voices. And alcohol. It was a way of filling the gap left by Tim. Later, at home, she’d sometimes have another drink with Lou and Neil, then watch them head off to bed, arms entwined. Then she, too, would tiptoe down the hall, careful not to disturb Josh, to the single bed of her childhood room — the emptiness was mocking.
She’d been thinking more and more about Mitch. They always got along so well, editing stories. He was so easy to be with, to talk to. But he never mentioned the possibility of them having drinks together again. Maybe she should ask him out? No, it was too soon after Tim. It wouldn’t be wise to rush in to another relationship so soon. Not to mention the fact that they worked together which was never advisable.
***
Julia rushed into the newsroom, her cheeks flaming from the heat outside. She raced to her desk, puffing. ‘Oh my God, Rach, you’re not going to believe this. So much going on!’ She paused, putting a hand to her chest to catch her breath.
‘Jesus, slow down. What is it?’
‘Well, for starters . . .’ Julia looked at her with glee and held out her left hand. A new ring on her wedding finger glittered under the newsroom lights. She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Derek proposed on the weekend.’
‘Oh my God!’ Rachel shrieked. Everyone turned to look. ‘That’s brilliant! Congratulations!’ She hugged Julia. ‘It’s quick, but I guess you two have been pretty sure from day one.’
‘Oh, yes, it’s been amazing! Of course, to be absolutely sure, we’re going to live together first and have a long engagement. But, oh, Rach, I’m the most blissed-out girl in the world!’
‘I’m so happy for you.’ And she was. Julia might envy Rachel’s career trajectory, but at least her cup was full in the romance stakes. They embraced again.
Julia pulled back. ‘Oh, and something else. This is bizarre. Did you know that Derek did an interview with Tim last week — a feature about Telstra? Well, the two of them got on so well, the interview turned into drinks and now they’ve become buddies. Can you believe it? Bad timing, I suppose?’ She scrunched up her nose.
‘Yep, I’d say that was bad timing.’
‘Anyway, to celebrate the engagement, this weekend we’re throwing a party at Derek’s house — where I’ll be living — and of course you’re invited. I just hope you’ll be okay with the fact that Derek’s invited Tim too? There’ll be plenty of people there, so you could probably avoid him if you want.’
‘It’ll be fine, Jules, just relax.’ Rachel smiled. ‘It’s your special night and I’ll be there with bells on, no matter who else is there.’ She hadn’t lied about the bells. Tim and his new girlfriend? There’d be bells all right. Alarm bells.
***
From the back of Derek’s living room, Rachel tried to listen to the speeches but she kept checking the crowd. She’d seen Tim in the distance earlier, but couldn’t spot him now. Nor could she work out who his girlfriend was. Smoothing down her pink linen dress, she adjusted the low-cut neckline to hide the lacy edge of her bra that had snuck into view.
She’d caught a cab so she could have a few drinks. Derek’s place was just down the road from St Kilda’s Luna Park. The sounds of screaming thrillseekers riding the Scenic Railway rattled in her ears as she arrived. It was a modest Edwardian house, the decor eclectic. A purple square-edged couch took up most of the space, flanked by an Asian sideboard covered with wine glasses and bottles. The room was overflowing with guests laughing at Derek’s witty words. Rachel was finding it hard to concentrate. Was that Tim with his back to her near the bookcase? No, the wavy hair was too long.
There was movement beside her and she looked up. Mitch.
His eyes widened in delight. ‘Hey, Rach. Looking for someone?’
‘Oh no, just trying to see Derek through the crowd.’
‘Right. S’pose we shouldn’t be talking during the speeches.’
Their eyes locked, smiles matching. Rachel loved the colour of his eyes. Such a bright, clear blue. Who had she been looking for?
He moved closer, whispering in her ear. ‘Maybe we can have that drink tonight then?’
‘Guess we can,’ she whispered back.
He knocked his glass gently against hers and suddenly the possibility of a new romance seemed completely feasible.
There was a tugging at her sleeve. Tim.
Clean-shaven and wearing a freshly ironed white shirt with navy stripes, he looked like he’d just walked off a yacht. He started to speak as applause erupted for Derek, and Julia stepped forward. Rachel shushed him and turned to listen.
Julia’s face flushed at the attention. ‘So, as Derek said, our party tonight was short notice, but we really wanted to celebrate while we still had that amazing feeling that comes when you just get engaged.’ She looked at Derek, bouncing up and down on her toes like a child about to blow out their birthday candles, her eyes full of joy. He held her gaze, smiling.
Rachel glanced up at Mitch, then Tim. She breathed deeply then forced herself to focus on Julia’s words.
‘. . . and because we’re both journalists, that gives us another wonderful connection. So for us, our engagement is front-page news. We’re going to be the lead story in each other’s lives, and there’ll be plenty of updates to come, but nothing that involves police media liaison. Thanks for coming and keep drinking!’ Julia raised her champagne glass.
Clapping and cheering filled the room.
Mitch turned to Rachel. ‘Entertaining speeches. Good to know there’s still some people left in the world who believe in true love and commitment.’
‘Yes, it is. They make a wonderful couple. I really hope it works out for them.’ She looked at Julia and Derek, their arms clasped around each other, smiling and chatting with their guests.
‘So do I,’ said Tim. ‘It can be tough if it hits the skids.’ He swigged his beer.
Rachel paused, choosing her words carefully. ‘I know what you’re saying, but problems arise in every relationship. It’s how you deal with them that counts.’
‘Depends on the magnitude of the problem.’ Tim wouldn’t look at her. He maintained a neutral expression, gazing at the crowd.
Mitch touched her arm. ‘Rach, looks like you’re tied up. Let me know if you want that drink.’
‘Sure, sounds good.’ She smiled brightly as he walked away, wishing he’d stay.
Tim finished his beer. ‘Want another drink?’
‘Perhaps you should get back to your girlfriend.’
‘Oh, we broke up. It didn’t work out.’ His eyes crinkled as his face relaxed into a smile. ‘I bet you do want another drink.’
Right now she didn’t know what she wanted. ‘Well, okay then. I’ve got a bottle of wine in the kitchen.’
‘Sauvignon Blanc? Oyster Bay?’
‘Of course.’
‘Of course.’ He went to fill her glass.
She looked around for Mitch, seeing him chatting with Natasha, the hard-faced producer from work. Only tonight her face was softer, her usually tight black ponytail replaced by a soft blow-wave of shiny locks. She was animated as she spoke to him, at one point reaching up to touch his face. Mitch took her hand and held it.
Tim returned and handed back her refilled glass.
Rachel forced her attention on him. ‘Thanks. Julia told me about Derek interviewing you for the Melbourne Times. I saw the article. You came up well.’ She sipped her wine.
‘Yeah, he did a fine job. Telstra was pretty happy. Better than that, he’s a top bloke. Good to find someone who likes a beer and knows how to hold an intelligent conversation. How’s the newsreading going? I hear you’re doing pretty well. Not that I’ve seen you read or anything. Too early for me with work.’ He looked at his feet, rocking back on his heels.
Mitch and Natasha sat on the couch together, knees touching. It was infuriating that he could flirt openly with another woman after giving her the same signals. Rachel tried to focus on the conversation.
‘Um . . . I think it’s going okay,’ she said. ‘And apart from work, the perks are good. You now, like invitations to stuff. Took Kate to a movie premiere this week, and next Saturday Julia and Derek are coming to a party with me. It’s for the launch of a new Network Six music show called Rock Rap, or something like that.’ Her mind starting ticking over. Mitch would surely be going to the Rock Rap party too.
‘Sounds like fun,’ said Tim. ‘But you know those A-lists parties aren’t my thing.’
‘Well, even so . . .’ Rachel paused. ‘What with Derek and Julia already coming, why don’t you come along too? There’ll be some great bands playing. With the four of us, it’ll be a fun night.’
Tim sighed. ‘Look, it could be, but we know we’ve both moved on, Rach.’
She clasped his arm. ‘It’s just a party, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.’
‘And why not?’ Derek appeared between them, bearing a plate of sausage rolls. He’d obviously overheard. ‘Then we could have one of those corny double weddings. Save a fortune on the catering!’
‘Ah, no thanks, on both counts.’ Rachel waved her hand over the plate. ‘Counting calories now I’m looking like a heffalump on the telly.’
‘You are not!’ Tim said. ‘You look great.’
‘But you said you hadn’t seen me?’ She looked at him in mock surprise.
‘Better keep moving before these get cold.’ Derek whistled as he walked off.
‘Well . . . um . . . what I meant was . . . I might have . . .’ Tim took a gulp of his beer.
Julia approached, shining in a new pale green silk dress. ‘Hey, you guys, thanks so much for coming.’ She hugged Rachel. ‘Going to start up the dancing soon. You’ll help me get it going, won’t you, Rach?’
‘No holding me back,’ she said.
‘And we’ll be dancing next week too. You know, at that rock show launch.’ She paused, looking up at Tim. ‘You should invite Tim along too.’
‘I’ve already asked but he’s washing his hair that night.’
Tim shook his head. ‘I didn’t say no. If Derek’s coming too . . . okay, sure, count me in.’
‘Great,’ said Julia. ‘Now that’s settled, I’d better help Derek in the kitchen. I think I can smell something burning.’
***
Several hours later, Rachel’s head was spinning from too much wine. She watched Mitch dancing with Natasha, twirling her around, laughing. She should just leave. She’d been bumping into people on the makeshift dance floor with her stumbling feet.
Tim was close by and she grabbed his arm. ‘I’m going to head off soon. Wanna share a cab?’
‘Sure, happy to share a cab.’ He looked at her, puzzled, then manoeuvred her into a corridor. ‘Do you really want to share a cab? I mean, this is just a friends thing, right?’
‘Sure. It’s fine, just fine. I’ll get my coat.’
She walked to the laundry, the makeshift cloakroom, and heard someone call her name.
‘Rach? Going so early? We still haven’t had that drink.’ Mitch came towards her, reaching out to touch her arm.
She recoiled. ‘You’ve been pretty occupied.’
‘What, Tash? Oh no, it’s not what you think. We’re just buddies. And what are you doing with Tim? Gerard told me you guys had busted up.’
‘Yeah, we’re just buddies. Have to take another raincheck on that drink. Bye!’ She scooped up her coat and dashed past him.
***
The taxi pulled up outside Rachel’s home. Tim got out and walked her to the front door. The outside light was on, but inside was dark. Lou and Neil must already be asleep.
Tim stood close, his voice soft. ‘Well, goodnight then. Guess I’ll see you next week for that rock party.’
‘Yes, next week. I’ll call you to sort out the details.’
When she moved to kiss his cheek, his hands gently guided her face so that their lips met instead. The kiss was sweet and familiar. She could smell his aftershave and felt his body pushing into hers. But it wasn’t right. She pulled away slowly. ‘Night, Tim,’ she said quietly.
‘Goodnight.’ He smiled, eyes warm, before returning to the cab.
***
‘Only five more sleeps till you see Tim again,’ Julia whispered to Rachel as she passed her desk the following Monday. Now Derek and Tim were buddies, she was pushing for Rachel to rekindle the relationship.
‘We’re just going as friends,’ she replied, as Rob’s strident voice cut across their conversation, calling her to his desk.
‘So what am I covering today?’ Rachel asked.
‘Might not be a lead, but I think it’s one you’ll want to do. Remember Liam Riley? Young kid in a battle with the grim reaper?’
She drew a sharp breath. ‘Of course. What’s happening? Is he okay?’
‘Yes, he’s coping. Seems your story helped the family raise the funds they need to go to the U.S. They’re going to talk about plans for the trip and how this may save him. A feel-good number, this one.’
Her shoulders relaxed. ‘That’s great. Media conference or separate interviews?’
‘Well the funny thing is, they’ve decided to limit the interviews because of Liam’s health. Only one TV, one radio and one newspaper. They’ve chosen you. Actually, Liam chose you. Your footage will get sent out to the other networks, but it gives us the advantage, having you there.’
‘Oh.’ She didn’t know what to say. ‘Um . . . that’s great, I guess.’
Rob brushed her away. ‘You can head off after the last update.’
Shit, the nine o’clock update. She had to get the latest Wimbledon scores from the sports department. Brent Garrison was in his office, he could help. Hopefully quickly. She rushed to the sports department, but he was on the phone. She waved. ‘Brent? Excuse me, can I just—’
He spun around and glared at her, putting one hand over the receiver. ‘Jesus Christ, can’t you see I’m on the phone?’
‘I’m sorry, but I have an update. I need the latest—’
‘This is urgent,’ he hissed.
‘But the update? It’s live to air.’
‘Fuck the update.’ He turned his back on her.
‘Fine, no Wimbledon updates today. You can answer any complaints.’ She spun on her heel and marched back to her desk. Rude pig.
Just as she finished the script with only minutes to go, a hand tapped her on the shoulder. It was Brent.
‘Look Rach, I have the scores now—’
‘Sorry, too late. I’m due at the desk right this second. If Rob asks questions, I’ll know what to tell him.’
‘Don’t be stupid.’ Brent shook his head in disbelief. ‘Put in the scores now and you’ll be fine.’
‘It would take a total rewrite. Not possible. What did you say? Fuck the update?’
She walked quickly to the news desk and sat down, breathing heavily while attaching her microphone and earpiece.
Patrick’s voice piped through the sound box. ‘All good, Rachel? Three minutes.’
All was not good. She needed to get rid of the churning anger in her stomach. The words came gushing out and she couldn’t stop. ‘All good, thanks, Patrick, apart from a very rude sports reporter, whose name might be Brent, who’s extremely unprofessional when it comes to helping with updates. Men like that exist in their own bubble of self-importance when in fact they’re just angry little ants with the pea-size brains.’
‘Rachel, did you know that anyone in the building with a TV monitor in their office — and that’s just about everyone — can see and hear what you’re saying?’
‘Oh.’ Rachel froze. She could hear Patrick trying not to laugh. She was aware that a couple of monitors in news control relayed vision of news presenters at the desk before an update or bulletin, but she didn’t know all the monitors in the building could be seen by everyone. Until now. Too late. She may as well continue.
‘Oh, well that’s fine.’ She beamed directly down the camera. ‘Everyone at Network Six already knows about Brent’s manners and out-of-control ego.’
‘Oh my God, that’s hilarious,’ gasped Patrick. ‘But get yourself together. Now it is time for the news — the real news, Rachel. Ten, nine, eight . . .’
The update ended. Rachel wasn’t sure what she had read, but thought she’d made it through without a mistake. She was stepping off the podium as Brent burst out from the sports office, his face puffed up like a stonefish.
‘So you think I’ve got a big ego, do you? You can’t even write a decent update, you stupid moll. And to think I asked you out. I’d rather date a beached whale. You—’
‘Righto, that’s enough, Brent.’ Rob sprang from the COS desk to step between them. ‘Back in your box, boy. Whatever Rachel said, and yes, we all heard it, will be dealt with.’ He turned to Rachel, his voice hard, but his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘Rachel, you have an interview, I believe?’
Thank God. Rachel grabbed her notebook and fled to the door, tumbling into a news car. Her cameraman was Charlie, who’d filmed the first story on Liam. His driving was frightening, but a less scary prospect than a right hook from Brent Garrison.
***
Kath greeted Rachel and Charlie at the door, taking them through to the lounge room. Liam’s doctor, Colin, sat in the background, a reassuring presence, nodding as they entered the room. Liam was weaker, his skin more translucent, his frame thinner and his hair more sparse. But a huge grin shone across his sunken face.
‘Rachel!’ He tried to lift himself up from the couch.
‘Hey, Liam. No, you stay put. We want you there for our chat.’
‘Okay then.’ He eased back into the cushions. ‘I’ll be much better on the TV now I’ve had practice from the last time.’ He grinned confidently.
‘You were great last time. Better than great. I told you then — you’re a star.’ Rachel pulled up a chair next to Liam and squeezed his hand. She saw blue veins beneath his skin. Rob had warned her not to become emotionally involved. That was impossible.
