Page 27 of Tears of Gold

“Oh?” I sneak a glance at Gerard who looks way too innocent for my liking. “The set is being built already? That seems quick.”

“Well we hope to start filming in December.”

I nearly trip over my own feet. “December?”

Miriam smiles at me, but it’s not malicious or demeaning. “Of course, the sooner the better. I hoped you’d be ready to interview applicants within the next couple of weeks.”

I shake my head slowly. “Uh, sure. I guess when I think of the Bowsley project, I think of sunshine and long summer days. December feels depressingly stark by contrast.”

“That’s interesting you feel it as seasonal.”

“Oh no. I don’t mean my own art is seasonal. I guess just the idea of teaching and learning. Ignore me, I’m speaking nonsense.”

Miriam has paused outside a wide set of black double doors. “And well, you did say you wanted to draw attention to the underbelly of London.”

I nod slowly. “That I did.”

With a flourish she pushes open the doors. My mouth falls open as the view from the other side begins to make sense.

The ceiling is carved into the arches of a bridge. Black and cavernous, the space is enormous. “Wow.” I step in. “I haven’t ever seen anything like this.” I stare up at the curve of one of the arches.

“Well, you have. You're the one who suggested we use the homeless theme to help bring awareness to poverty in our greatest city.” Miriam turns bright eyes onto me. “All your viewers will experience the desperation of the homeless while watching the determination of your contestants.”

“Artists.” I correct.

She smiles and I begin to realise that while Miriam Lancaster and I may look very, very different; we aren’t all that unlike one another. “Artists. Anyway, this is all foam and fibreglass, but hopefully it will prove an inspirational backdrop.”

“I’m sure it will.” Gerard and I step in further and take it all in.

Am I really going to stand here and be filmed by cameras? At some point very soon, someone is going to realise I don’t have a clue what I’m talking about.

“I need a co-presenter.”

Gerard meets my eyes; he bloody wishes… and no.

“That’s what I thought.” A voice calls from behind and I turn to find Angela in grey and denim. She steps up and kisses my cheek. “I thought we could start interviewing next week.”

“Didn’t Elijah say you asked him?” It seems such a long time ago now, but it could only have been a few weeks.

“Yes, but this is happening faster than we thought, and you and Elijah Fairclough are engaged now. Do you want the pressure of a show, as well as a Fairclough wedding? You might never make it down the aisle.” The woman has a point.

My stomach drops, which is ridiculous because I hadn’t even given it any thought until right up to this point. She’s right though. With everything he’s been through, this could be one strain too many, and I don’t want him to suffer any more than he has. At least I can protect him from that.

With a nasty ache in my stomach, I remember what else I need to talk to them about. Brighton. Things have changed now, and I need to grow up and deal. I can’t run away anymore, but I can walk away if it’s the right thing to do.

“Anyway.” I shake my head, let’s not talk about co-presenters now. “I need to speak to all of you. In private would be better.”

I swallow hard and meet Gerard’s gaze. This honesty stuff is tough going.

“Sure, let’s go to my office.” Miriam points back to the double doors and we all follow her towards them. Without talking, Gerard steps up to my side and grasps my fingers, squeezing them tight.

I’m waiting outside the law courts, sat in the dark of the MG when my phone rings. It’s been a long, traumatic day: the move, which Eli doesn’t even know about; the meeting and me having to be honest about what happened to me in Brighton and the fact I’m now a witness in what could be a legal prosecution. All these bloody grown up things I never expected.

It wouldn’t have been fair not to tell them and for the press to then get wind of the scandal. I’m not learning much from the Faircloughs, apart from how to bring out my inner mega bitch, but I am learning scandal is better when handled.

Look at me for fuck's sake. I’m a walking talking scandal waiting to blow.

“Hi?” I glance up at my reflection in the rear-view mirror.