How to Get Ahead in Television (28 page)

‘It will grow back,' sighed Shannon, rolling her eyes at me. ‘Come on, let's get this horse show-ready.'

I shuffled back to Nev's dressing room feeling as though I'd been scalped. I didn't consider myself a vain person, but the half mullet was not a look I wanted to live with.

‘What happened to you?' asked Nev in irritation. He was wearing his show outfit: a black unitard with streamers flowing from every limb. ‘You're covered in glitter.'

I looked at myself in his dressing room mirror, absorbing the glittery face and the turf of hair.

‘Gah, I look like David Bowie!' I cried, then took a deep breath and tried to collect myself. Accidental haircuts were not on Valerie Decouz's list of things worth crying about. ‘Sorry, Mr Chase, there was an incident in Wardrobe. Here's that coffee you wanted.'

STEP 46 – WHATEVER LOWLY OR DEMEANING JOB YOU ARE ASKED TO DO, CARRY IT OUT TO THE BEST OF YOUR ABILITY

FROM
: POPPY

TO
: NATALIE

Sporting a new semi-mullet, Bowie-inspired haircut. See attached…

FROM
: NATALIE

TO
: POPPY

What were you thinking?

H
ALF AN HOUR
later, the cameras were rolling and the horses ready to parade into the arena. Each celebrity emerged through the stable doors in a plume of smoke to meet their horse, who was dressed in a matching costume. I could see Nev was annoyed to find he'd been paired with Darlow (a notoriously loopy horse), whereas Jazzy the boy-band star was ecstatic to have landed JoJo.

The contestants' outfits were truly mind-blowing. Nev and Darlow had plumes of elaborate multi-coloured streamers
flying from every limb; JoJo and Jazzy had their light-stick creations; and Princess Yoho and her horse Graceland were decorated in an amazing monochrome paint design.

This afternoon they were filming the horse/human meetings for the first time, to capture celebrity reactions to their outfits and to the horses they'd been paired with. This evening the arena would be filled with a live audience for the launch show. Take That were performing and there would be live interviews with the show hosts, Dahlia Gaily and Graham Ross.

‘Poppy, isn't it?' Leon, the producer from
Last Clan Standing
, came over to talk to me as I sat by the stable doors with bottles of water, ready to offer to the celebrities on their way off stage.

‘Yes. Oh hey, Leon,' I said.

‘Hi, yeah, look, I'm producing the extra show,
More Prancing
. You know, the one that goes on after the main event? Anyway, we've had a supporting artist pull out, so Shannon said I could requisition you.'

‘Sure,' I said.

‘I like what you've done with your hair, by the way – very modern, very up-tempo, very circa now.'

I wasn't sure what Leon was talking about, and then remembered the semi-mullet tuft.

‘Oh, thanks, it wasn't intentional.'

I followed Leon down the labyrinth of corridors to the
More Prancing
studio.

‘So remind me who hosts the extra show?' I asked.

‘Kel O'Shaunessy and Prance Charming.'

‘Oh really,' I said, my heart sinking. ‘I might not be the best person to do this… Kel hates me.'

‘She hates everyone.' Leon shrugged.

‘And Prance Charming is?'

‘He's a horse. He doesn't say much, but the channel thought it was a fun thing to do, you know, have a horse co-host.'

I smiled, wondering which co-host Kel preferred – Les Stourton or a mute animal.

‘So what do you need me to do?'

‘Well, as soon as the horses come off from the meet-and-greet shoot, we want to get a few of the horses through to the
More Prancing
studio to shoot a little costume package before the main event kicks off. We just need some extra bodies to ride the horses into studio in lieu of the celebrities.'

‘Oh, I can't… I can't ride,' I said, panic rising in my throat. The last thing I needed was another close encounter with one of these animals.

‘Oh, it's fine, they're stunt horses – they can be ridden by any old idiot. No offence,' Leon said, wafting a hand at me to bat away any objection.

I was taken through to the
More Prancing
dressing rooms and instructed to put on a costume covered in light sticks. It was skin-tight, designed for a man, and not at all flattering.

‘Do I really have to wear this?' I asked one of the APs.

‘Oh, don't worry, no one's going to be looking at you, they'll be looking at the horse. You're just a saddle-filler.'

‘But this unitard actually has a padded crotch?'

‘Well, it might look silly, but you'll be thankful for a padded crotch once you're in the saddle.' The AP grinned.

Great. A ‘saddle-filler'. Why did I never see Rhidian getting bullied into doing this sort of job? Before I could offer up any further objections, I was ushered into a holding pen with the other extras. One of the horse handlers came over to me and secured my helmet, also covered in light sticks. (My head now looked like a giant neon hedgehog.)

‘Just sit on the horse, don't kick the horse. Hold the reins loosely, don't pull them. You trust your horse and your horse will trust you,' said the handler.

Was now the time to say I did NOT trust my horse?

‘You'll walk through studio, stop, Miss O'Shaunessy will talk about the horse, then you'll walk through to the holding stable on the other side. There'll be a trainer with you at all times. Do not dismount your horse alone, wait for the mounting block. Got it?'

‘Got it.'

The horses were gradually brought through from the main arena and I was hoisted onto JoJo's saddle. I could still see wisps of my blonde hair trapped in her glittery bridle. Stupid JoJo.

‘And action, JoJo!' called the floor manager.

One of the handlers led JoJo slowly through to the studio where Kel was talking to camera.

‘… and one of the biggest hits costume-wise was, of course, everyone's favourite – JoJo!'

We walked up next to Kel, and JoJo obediently stopped in exactly the right place. I started to relax; obviously this horse was a pro and the handler had complete control of the reins. I was sure it would all be fine. Kel started talking about JoJo's costume and, to be fair to the AP, he was right: Kel didn't even look up or acknowledge me, I was literally saddle dressing. Kel finished talking about JoJo and beckoned for the next horse, so off we went, through to the holding bay. Easy. I'd been sweating with fear for no reason.

‘Someone's taken the mounting block,' sighed the handler holding JoJo's lead rope.

‘Oh, I'm sure I could get down without one?' I said, keen to get off the animal as soon as possible.

‘No, you're not allowed to,' the handler said. ‘Wait there, I'll go and get one.'

She hooked JoJo onto a post at the side of the docking bay and left me there.

I waited patiently for a good five minutes before I started to get restless. I now needed the loo, and no one else had come in; I was alone with JoJo. I didn't dare call out for help in case the show was still filming.

I waited another five minutes, now really beginning to panic about my bladder situation. JoJo stood there quietly, being no use at all. That stupid handler had obviously forgotten about me, and I wouldn't be rescued until they needed JoJo back for the main event. I was clearly going to have to take matters into my own hands. I could definitely get off this
horse pretty easily. If I could just get my leg over, I'm sure I could slip down JoJo's side without much trouble.

I cautiously lifted one leg over and twisted my body around so I was now lying stomach down on the saddle, legs out one over side and arms over the other. JoJo made a noise.

‘Shh now, horsey,' I whispered, patting her gently. ‘Let's not have another falling out. I will be out of your way in no time.'

I started to slip down JoJo's side, only realizing, too late, that my wrist was caught in the reins. Momentum and gravity were now against me as I desperately tried to claw my way back up into the saddle.

Before I knew what was happening, I heard an almighty, ear-splitting wailing sound. I sprung free, falling back to the floor with a thump. JoJo started going crazy, bucking and kicking, rearing up on her hind legs. I huddled myself into a ball, terrified of getting trampled. Then, with a wrench, JoJo pulled herself free, the hook came clean off the wall, and she bolted, charging through the studio, neon light sticks falling to the floor in her wake. The terrifying noise was still blaring, and I looked down to see it was coming from me – it was the rape alarm bracelet.

Shit.

I yanked it from my wrist, desperately trying to see how to turn it off. I looked up to see people running around in panic.

‘JoJo's on the loose!' someone shouted.

Then Rhidian appeared out of nowhere. I looked up to see him standing over me.

‘Are you okay? Why are you on the floor? Did she throw you?' he asked, kneeling down in concern and lifting me up from the floor.

‘My rape alarm went off… I got stuck on the horse… I tried to get off, I…' I tried to explain, but my voice got stuck in my throat.

Rhidian took the rape bracelet from my hand and stamped on it. It let out a slow moan, a wheeze, then went silent. My
ears breathed a sigh of relief now the incessant wailing had stopped and I could hear again.

‘Horses don't like loud noises, do they?' I said.

‘Clearly not,' Rhidian said, holding both my arms, inspecting me to see if I really was unharmed.

‘What in fuck's name happened here?' roared Shannon Long, both hands clasping clumps of hair on her head.

‘Um, it was an accident,' I said. ‘I tried to get off JoJo and—'

‘The star of my show just kicked Kel O'Shaunessy in the chest, jumped the security gate and is now rampaging down Wembley High Road! Was that a rape alarm? Who brings a bloody rape alarm to work?'

‘It was my fault,' said Rhidian, taking a step forward.

‘What?' Shannon said, turning on Rhidian. She was literally tearing her hair out now – wisps of red came away in her hand as she fiercely combed fingers through her hair.

‘I tried to help Poppy dismount the horse,' he said. ‘She said we should wait for the mounting block, but I thought I could help her. I'm sorry.'

I turned to look at Rhidian, baffled as to why he was trying to take the blame.

‘Why have you got a freakin' rape whistle, Poppy?' Shannon screamed, still looming over me.

‘I forgot I had it on. I… It was an accident, Shannon. Is JoJo okay?'

‘No, JoJo is not okay. JoJo is the star of this goddamn production, and now I have to call Animal Control. Get out of my sight, the both of you. Rhidian, I'm especially disappointed in you.'

Shannon charged off and I realized I was shaking. Everyone on production was still running around in a panic.

‘Come on,' Rhidian said, ushering me out of the studio and through to an empty dressing room. ‘What are you wearing, by the way?'

In the dressing room I rushed through to the loo and tried
to extract myself from the unitard. I was conscious that the dressing room wall was very thin and that Rhidian was still waiting outside for me. I started talking through the wall to try and disguise the noise of my peeing.

‘Oh, I hope JoJo's okay. I'm such an idiot.'

‘Don't worry about it. I'm sure they'll catch her,' Rhidian replied through the wall.

‘Why did you try and take the blame like that, Rhidian? Shannon already thinks I'm a moron; there's no point you getting into her bad books too.'

I came out of the loo, feeling very self-conscious that I was still wearing a unitard with a padded crotch and a neon hedgehog helmet.

‘Isn't it obvious why?' Rhidian sighed, taking a step towards me.

‘Why?' I asked quietly, heart pounding in my chest.

‘Because I'd do anything for you,' he said, holding my gaze. ‘Isn't it obvious how much I like you, Poppy?'

‘Me?' I said.

‘Yes, you,' he laughed. ‘Infuriating as it is, I'm afraid I do.'

‘Hey, why infuriating?' I said, butterflies erupting in my stomach.

‘Infuriating because you've been my rival, because you're so goddamn competitive—'

‘Hey
I'm
not competitive!' I interject.

‘…Infuriating because you have the worst taste in men, and are the worst judge of character, and you have made me want to perpetrate acts of untold violence against JR. And infuriating because, despite all of the above, I can't stop thinking about you, Poppy.'

Rhidian's green eyes sparkled down at me. He reached out a hand and gently lifted my chin so that our eyes locked.