Alexandra Waring (43 page)

When they came back Alexandra led to some local “town meeting” kind of stories, one from their Los Angeles affiliate, one from their Omaha affiliate, one from their New Orleans affiliate, and then she led to Helen Kai Lu for her special report on health maintenance organizations, “Should You Join an HMO?” They broke for a commercial.

When they came back Alexandra led over to Brooks for a report and mini-reviews of the top-grossing movies of the holiday weekend, and then Alexandra led over to Chester for their closing piece on Memorial Day. It was long, by TV standards, almost four and a half minutes, but it was a very strong piece, genuinely moving too, as they listened to Chester give a history of America’s wars and watched how twenty-four towns and cities this day had chosen to remember the Americans who had died in them.

And then, suddenly, it was the end of the newscast, and there was Alexandra, the warmth of her smile traveling forty-four thousand miles through the sky to be felt in homes across the country. “May 30, 1988,” she said. “From everyone at DBS News, we wish you a very good night—and an even better tomorrow.”

They closed with a shot of a single flag on a single grave. The camera then slowly drew back to show the breathtaking hillside the solitary grave was located on, with mountains steeping in the background. The frame froze, the color faded to black and white, the resulting image looking very much like an Ansel Adams photograph.

“All clear!” Lilly announced a minute later.

“All right!” Kyle announced, leaping into the studio and throwing his script in the air.

“Hi,” Cassy said, poking her head around the dressing-room door. “I thought you might be hiding in here.”

Alexandra smiled, wiping some of the studio makeup off with cotton pads. It was after midnight; standby for updates on the West Coast feed was over.

“What?” Cassy said to somebody out in the hall, leaning back out the door. “Oh, you’re welcome, Greg,” she called down the hall. “Please come again—any time—you were a pleasure.” She laughed and then came inside, closing the door behind her.

Alexandra lowered the pad to her dressing table and looked at Cassy in the mirror. “You don’t know who that was, do you?”

“Here,” Cassy said, holding up a glass of champagne. “I lost half of it in the hall, but there’s still enough to say that someone left you some. It’s quite a party upstairs.” She leaned past Alexandra to put it down on the dresser, and then she stood behind her, resting her hands on Alexandra’s shoulders, smiling at her in the mirror. “I am so very proud of you,” she said.

Alexandra smiled but then lowered her eyes, reaching for another cotton pad.

Cassy stood there a moment, but when Alexandra did not look at her again she moved over and threw herself down in the chair next to the dresser. “Oh,” she said, covering her mouth to yawn, “am I ever tired.” She dropped her hand in her lap. “And we’ve got Paul Hogan coming in to do his interview in the morning. I hope Jessica remembers.”

“She will,” Alexandra said.

“I hope so,” Cassy said, watching her. After a moment, “So don’t you even want to taste your champagne?”

Alexandra smiled, eyes moving to her. “I can tell you’ve had some.”

“A little.”

“Uh-huh,” Alexandra said, eyes returning to the mirror as she finished wiping her chin. “Okay,” she said then, throwing the cotton in the trash and picking up the glass. “To Cassy Cochran—I drink to your good health, to your future happiness and to your generosity of spirit, which serves us all so well.” And then she leaned over and kissed Cassy softly on the cheek.

“Wow—thank you,” Cassy said, looking a little embarrassed.

Alexandra sat back, took a sip of champagne, swallowed, smiled and then held the glass out to Cassy. “It doesn’t work unless you drink to your own good health,” she said. “No one can do it for you.”

Cassy took the glass from her and brought it to her mouth.

Alexandra watched her sip. Her eyes watched Cassy’s mouth, skipped up to her eyes and then she turned away, getting up and walking to the bathroom. “I think you should go find Gordon,” she said over her shoulder, “and ask him about your friend Greg.”

Cassy frowned, putting the champagne glass down on the dresser. “My friend Greg?”

“In the newsroom today,” Alexandra said from the bathroom. She left the door slightly ajar but was standing out of Cassy’s line of sight. “Greg—the guy you just said good night to.”

“What about him?” Cassy said, standing up, smoothing her skirt.

In the bathroom Alexandra was leaning back against the towel rack, looking up at the ceiling. She did not look very well. “That was Lord Gregory Hargrave,” she said, her voice sounding normal. “Gordon told me when he came down.”

“Lord Gregory Hargrave!” Cassy gasped. “And no one recognized him?”

“I know,” Alexandra said from behind the bathroom door. “So maybe you ought to find out what he was doing here.”

“I knew he looked familiar,” Cassy said, moving to the door. “I’ll strangle Jackson-his secretary told me he was a family friend.”

“You better go find Gordon now,” Alexandra said, “because I’m going to want to leave soon.”

“Oh, no,” Cassy groaned, clapping a hand over her eyes. “We gave Lord Gregory Hargrave a slice of pizza on a paper towel for dinner?” She dropped her hand and, mimicking somebody, added,
“
’Ey, Greg—ya wanna sloyce of
saw
sage?” Laughing to herself, she opened the door, shaking her head. “Alexandra—you coming?”

“I’ll be up in a minute,” she said. “But could you ask Kyle to stop in here for a second?”

“Sure,” Cassy said, going out. “I’ll see you upstairs.”

When Alexandra heard the door close she brought her hands up to her face and held it for a long moment. Then she dropped her hands, closed her eyes, drew in one long breath, held it and slowly let it out. Then she opened her eyes and went over to the sink to look in the mirror.

Her eyes were wet and her nose was slightly red. She turned on the water, leaned over and scooped water over her face with her hands. The water running, still leaning over, she held her hands over her face again for a moment. Then she dropped them, sniffed, straightened up, turned off the water and reached for a towel. She held it against her face and then patted her face dry. She put the towel back in the rack.

“Alexandra?” Kyle said.

“Just a second,” she called. She grabbed a tissue, blew her nose, threw the tissue out and looked at herself in the mirror again. She waved her hand, trying to dry her eyes. Then she cleared her throat, ran her hands back over her hair once and went out, flicking the light off.

Kyle was standing half in the door. “What’s up?”

“I changed my mind,” she said, walking out.

“About what?” he said.

Alexandra walked over to pull Kyle inside the dressing room, closed the door and then turned to face him. “The tour,” she said. “I don’t want to wait until fall, Kyle. I want to go on the road soon—this summer.”

“Already?” he said.

“Already,” she said. “Just as soon as we can put it together.”

31
DBS Mail and Memorandums

Delivery by hand
*****CONFIDENTIAL*****

31 May 1988

MEMORANDUM TO: Catherine Cochran
FROM: Jackson Andrew Darenbrook
REGARDING: Lord Gregory Hargrave

Cassy,

That’s okay—you can leave me notes like that all the time. What I like is how you can shout through your handwriting.

Lord Gregory Hargrave, better known as Old Hardhead, is contemplating forming a global broadcast news network in the same way we formed DBS. His visit yesterday was entirely informal, however, only to view our facilities and get a sense of our operations.

So, to answer your question: on the record, he was not here. Off the record, yes, he was; I’m hoping to offer DBS News the resources of a global network within a year. Please act surprised if and when it happens.

In the meantime, please rip up this memo and know that you and yours have done a brilliant job. I’m very proud of you and you know what? I just decided we should have a party. More later.

Jackson

*

5-31-88

Cassy,

Here are the overnights from Nielsen.

Chi Chi

*

May 31, 1988

Memorandum from Langley W. Peterson

Jack,

Here are the overnights. Better than we expected!

*

31 May 1988

MEMORANDUM TO: All DBS Employees
FROM: Jackson Andrew Darenbrook
REGARDING: A Party

Dear Everybody,

I’m very, very proud of you and so I’m going to give a party in your honor. (So you all better come or there won’t be anyone there to honor yourself with.)

The idea of the moment is a dinner dance while sailing around Manhattan. You will be allowed to bring one person with you. Past that point, all I know is that it will be Saturday night, June 25, so please block it off on your calendar. (It has to be that Saturday so the miniseries folks can join us before going to England.)

Thank you, everybody, for all of your hard work. You are wonderful.

Jackson

*

6-1-88

Jackson,

Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful. And I wasn’t really angry about my friend Lord Greg—it’s just that I can’t stand not knowing everything. Call it my obsession with control—which, come to think of it, isn’t a bad thing to have in a producer.

Thanks again. (But please don’t let me feed him pizza next time.)

Cassy

*

6/3/88

Dear Belinda,

I don’t suppose one often writes thank you notes for thnk you notes, but in this case I think one is in order..

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’d like to say you are too kind in your praise, but with the shape my self-esteem has been in lately, I will merely take it all and say thank you.

I hope I see you again soon.

With warm regards,
Jessica Wright

*

June 3, 1988

Mrs. Belinda Darenbrook Peterson
18 Old Woods Hill Road
Greenwich, Connecticut 06830

Dear Belinda,

Thank you for your note, though I hasten to assure you there is no reason to
apologize
—except, that is, for neglecting to write the one thing I wanted to read in your letter, that you would be coming to visit us all at West End again soon.

Thank you for coming on Memorial Day. Your presence meant a great deal to me and to all, especially Jessica. Television is a very demanding and often difficult—physically, mentally, emotionally—field of work, so the interest and support of someone like you go a long way toward revitalizing our energies.

Please come again soon.

With my very best wishes,
Cassy Cochran

*

June 6

Langley,

The first week’s ratings. Alexandra’s doing beautifully—Jessica is a
hit
.

Cassy

*

June 6, 1988

Memo to Cassy from Derek
DBS NEWS AMERICA TONIGHT
reviews

Hey, lady, look here. The complete set of reviews. Raves are of course on top. It looks like a clean sweep through flyover land, with a few shots to the head and gut from the East (but then, what would the East be without shots to the head and gut?) and one or two from out West.

*

June 6, 1988

Memo to Cassy from Derek
DBS THE JESSICA WRIGHT SHOW
reviews

What more is there to say? She is a smash across the board. (Did I tell you Letterman’s guy called? They want
her
as a guest.)