‘Go on,’ says Art. ‘Answer it!’
I swallow – this is Ma Cusack calling me! – and answer.
‘Annie McDermott?’
It doesn’t sound like Ma Cusack. Maybe a bit, but the accent is totally different. Much more grand.
‘Yes, this is Annie.’ I clear my throat and put the phone on speaker.
‘This is Honoria Quigley,’ says the TV legend. ‘I hope you don’t mind me ringing you instead of texting, but I hate texting back and forth without my specs.’
Art gives me a pointed look. His expression is smug.
‘Of course I don’t mind,’ I say. ‘Thanks for calling.’
‘Now, I can’t stay on the phone for long because I’m in the middle of the French countryside and the reception is dreadful, but you say you’re having some trouble with my old nemesis Bernard.’ There’s a hint of amusement in her voice.
‘We are,’ I say.
‘And you were hoping I might be able to give you some advice on how to handle him?’ says Honoria.
‘Something like that,’ I say.
‘I’d be honoured.’ Honoria’s laugh sounds like tinkling bells,nothing like Ma Cusack’s trademark gleeful cackle. ‘Though I’m not sure how much use I’ll be. I’ll be back from France on Friday night. Would you and your friend – was it Arthur?’
‘Art,’ I say.
‘How charming. Well, would you and Art like to come for lunch at my house on Saturday?’
Our final drafts are due on Friday so a Saturday meeting is too late to help with the scripts, even if Honoria could tell us anything that might do that. But she might give us some information about Bernard that could help foil his scheme. And let’s be honest, there’s no way I can say no to this invitation. I feel like I’ve been asked for an audience with a queen. No, better than a queen because I have a big problem with hereditary royalty. TV royalty, however …
I glance at Art, who nods.
‘We’d love to,’ I say.
‘Wonderful,’ she says. ‘I’ll text you the address now, if my elderly eyes can manage it. And I’ll see you both on Saturday at one.’
‘Thanks so much,’ I say.
‘It’s nothing, darling! Looking forward to it.’
I hang up and shrug my shoulders. ‘Well, it’ll be interesting at the very least.’
‘I can’t wait,’ says Art, and he actually sounds like he means it.
My phone buzzes as Honoria texts me her address. It turns out she lives on a famously fancy road in Ballsbridge. Very unlikeNorthside’s Charlemont Street.
‘Nowthat,’ says Art, pointing at the street name, ‘is posh.’
Chapter Nineteen
INT: ANNIE AND ROO’S HOUSE / INT:NORTHSIDEOFFICES
It’s a very weird feeling, working hard on something while knowing you’re being set up for a fall. Art and I have resolved to give theNorthsideteam no reason to criticise us. We will work on these scripts to the best of our ability. It’s impossible to follow all of Bernard’s notes, and we know this is intentional on his part, so all we can do as we go through each note is ask ourselves if it makesanysense, and if it doesn’t (and most don’t), we just try to make our scripts better anyway. But the whole process feels a little soul-destroying.
So by the time I get home on Wednesday evening, I feel utterly drained. When Roo comes in from an afternoon reading cards at a boutique festival launch, I’m on the couch eating a spice bag.
‘Don’t judge me,’ I say, pointing at the bag. ‘It’s a tough week.’