White Christmas (5 page)

‘I suppose not,’ she smiled. ‘But what’s all this about the
company being taken over? I didn’t know it was for sale.’

‘The previous owners didn’t have a choice,’ said Dan, his
voice cool. ‘The company was running out of cash and they were making a right
mess of it. So I made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. I know that I can
turn it round but if it goes belly up I can always sell the building and make
my money back. This block is quite an asset. I’m surprised it hasn’t been sold
already.’

He made it sound like a game of Monopoly, thought Lizzie,
even though people’s livelihoods were at stake. She’d never had much time for
the old bosses at Ace TV – they’d dumbed down the news and weather content an
awful lot recently – but at least they were a known quantity.

‘But there hasn’t been any announcement about all this.’
Lizzie glanced around the room. No one seemed to be taking any notice of Dan
Moody at all. ‘Does anyone here know what’s happening?’

‘Not yet,’ said Dan, a hard tone creeping into his voice.
‘And I’d ask you not to enlighten them. The official statement is going out in
two days time. Will you give me your word you won’t say anything?’

‘Of course,’ said Lizzie. ‘It’s not my news to tell.’

‘Good,’ said Dan. ‘Anyway, Lizzie, tell me a bit about your
role here. How long have you been at Ace TV?’

As Dan’s startlingly blue eyes bored into her own, Lizzie
felt as though she was being quizzed by a highly skilled lawyer. Or, come to
think of it, an investigative reporter. The problem was that she could talk
about the weather till the cows came home but she hated being put on the spot
like this.

‘Er, about three years,’ she said.

‘And before that?’

‘I did physics at Cambridge and then trained at the Met
Office.’

Dan’s eyes widened with admiration.

‘That’s an impressive track record,’ he said.

‘Maybe, but can I ask you something?’ said Lizzie, keen to
change the subject.

‘Of course,’ replied Dan. ‘Go ahead.’

‘I wondered if you could thank your daughter for me? For
being so sweet the other day. I was, well I was feeling a bit down, and talking
to her cheered me up no end. She was so sweet.’

The heartfelt request took Dan completely by surprise. He
was more used to employees falling over themselves to ask about their career
prospects, or request a pay rise.

‘Yes, of course I can. She was very taken with you by the
way. She kept saying how nice you were and how she hoped we’d see you again…’

Lizzie blushed. She wanted her new boss to regard her as an
invaluable employee that he couldn’t afford to lose. Not some lily-livered fool
who burst into tears when she heard a Christmas carol.

‘Let’s fix it,’ he said forcefully. ‘India would love it. I
know, we’ll do tea at Fortnum & Mason. Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll get my PA
to book a table.’

Talk about awkward, thought Lizzie. The newsroom would have
a field day if they discovered she’d been hobnobbing with the new boss. And she
couldn’t imagine that Dan’s wife would be impressed either.

‘I’m not sure it would be a good idea…’ began Lizzie.

‘It’s a great idea,’ said Dan, cutting her off in mid-flow.
‘I think India finishes school at three, so shall we say four o’clock?’

He nodded briskly and, without waiting for an answer, strode
away.

SEVEN

Hal tapped the table impatiently. Lizzie was twenty minutes
late. He was sure she was going to cancel – or stand him up. Except she didn’t
seem like that sort of girl. He checked his phone again and tried to tell
himself he wasn’t bothered.

Glancing around the café, Hal wondered why Lizzie had
suggested meeting there. It was an odd place for someone dreading Christmas to
choose. The décor was a riot of tinsel and glitter, huge bunches of mistletoe
hung provocatively over every table and his gingerbread latte had been served
up in a bright red Father Christmas mug.

Hal opened the copy of the Evening Standard he’d picked up
at the tube station and, as usual, turned straight to the arts pages. The first
item to catch his eye was a review of Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia, a new production
that had just opened at the Duke of York’s Theatre. He read it avidly, green
with envy. Two pals from drama school had small parts in the show and he’d give
anything to be in their shoes. Not for the first time, he wondered what the
hell he was doing reading the weather on daytime TV when all he’d ever wanted
to do with his life was act.

The door of the café swung open and Lizzie dashed in,
pink-cheeked from the cold and full of apologies.

‘Hal, I’m so, so sorry. Have you been here for ages? I got
asked to do an extra weather piece because of the snow up north. I would have
texted you on the way but I dropped my phone and now it won’t work. I’m all
over the place today. I’ve run all the way from the Strand.’

Hal laughed and gave her a hug. ‘Relax, Lizzie. It doesn’t
matter at all. I’ve been quite happy sitting here waiting.’

Lizzie flung her coat over the back of a chair and plonked
her bag on the floor. Hal stared in astonishment when he saw what she was
wearing. He’d only ever seen her in a dark suit before, but today she’d chosen
a purple dress, nipped in at the waist and a couple of inches above the knee.
She looked sensational.

After ordering a strong cup of tea, Lizzie sat down opposite
Hal.

‘This place has gone ridiculously over the top with its
Christmas decorations,’ she said, glaring at the mistletoe between them.

Hal smiled at her indignant look. ‘I thought you must have
chosen it on purpose. But how are you? How’s everything at Ace TV? Ready to
change your mind about the snow? There’s quite a lot of it up north, you know.’

‘Of course I’m not,’ retorted Lizzie. ‘It’s only the 17th of
December. There’s ages to go till Christmas Day. And there’s a warm front
coming in overnight tonight. The snow up north will have gone by this time
tomorrow.’

‘Hmmm,’ said Hal. We’ll see. And by the way, we need to talk
about our bet.’

‘How come?’

‘We’ve got to decide where and when, of course. Where does
the snow have to fall – and when?’

Hal’s enthusiasm was touching, thought Lizzie. He looked
just like his little nephew Joe.

‘I’ve got a great idea,’ said Hal. ‘How about we meet at
Trafalgar Square at noon on Christmas Day? Right by Nelson’s Column. After the
early morning weather bulletins and before The Queen’s Speech.’

‘Fine by me,’ said Lizzie. ‘Trafalgar Square at noon.’

Hal took a sip of his latte and scrutinised her face.
Something was bothering her, he could tell.

‘Shall we change the subject? You look fed up with all this
snow talk.’

‘Just a bit.’

The radio was playing in the background and at that moment
Bing Crosby’s White Christmas wafted through the tiny café.

‘Now that’s what you call great timing,’ joked Hal. ‘Anyone
would think I’d asked them to play it.’

Lizzie ignored his remark. Anxious about her meeting with Dan
Moody, she hadn’t even noticed the track.

‘How’s your work going?’ she asked. ‘Is the weather starting
to make more sense now?’

Hal grimaced. ‘I wouldn’t go that far, but the bosses seem
happy with what I’m doing. And I’ve had loads of nice emails from viewers.’

‘How much longer have you got?’

‘Two weeks. So I need to get cracking and find some proper
work…’

Lizzie shot him a disapproving look.

Worried that he’d offended her, he added quickly: ‘Not that
weather presenting isn’t proper work. But it’s about time I concentrated on a
job I’m actually good at. I’ve got a couple of auditions coming up later in the
week…’

“Wow, that’s brilliant, Hal. I’m so pleased for you. What
are the parts you’re going for?’

The next hour flashed past easily as Hal regaled Lizzie with
tales of disastrous auditions he’d been to over the years. His story of a
director bellowing from the stalls that Hal’s rendition of King Lear was ‘the
most infantile’ he’d ever seen reduced Lizzie to tears of laughter.

‘What was I thinking of?’ chuckled Hal. ‘I was twenty-one,
straight out of drama school - and completely wet behind the ears. What the
fuck did I know about Lear?’
 

All of a sudden Lizzie checked the clock on the café wall
and frowned. ‘I’ve got to go, I’m afraid.’

‘No worries. Where are you off to?’

Once again Lizzie seemed uneasy.

‘Can I trust you with something top secret?’

‘Of course,’ said Hal, his face serious for a second. ‘You
can trust me with your life.’

‘It looks as though Ace TV’s been taken over. It’s all
hush-hush. But for some reason, I don’t understand why at all, the new boss has
asked me to have tea with him. At Fortnum & Mason’s. I’m meeting him in
half an hour.’

Hal was immediately suspicious. The man clearly had an
ulterior motive. Lizzie was a real asset to Ace TV, there was no doubt about
that, but she was also a stunning woman.

‘Who is he? The top man, the new one, I mean.’

Lizzie hesitated.

‘You absolutely promise you won’t breathe a word?’

‘Of course. What’s that old expression? What happens in
Coco’s, stays in Coco’s. What’s his name?’

‘Dan Moody. I’d never heard of him before, but I think he’s
some hotshot entrepreneur.’

Hal’s face was grim. ‘Dan Moody eh? Yep, I know exactly who
he is. Me and him – we go way back. He’s a nasty bit of work. He broke Tasha’s
heart when they were teenagers, and I’ve never forgiven him.’

Rather than battle her way across London on the tube, Lizzie
splashed out and hailed a cab to Fortnum & Mason. The last thing she wanted
was to arrive flustered and late.

When the taxi drew up outside the Piccadilly store, with its
elegant façade and distinctive eau de nil decor, Lizzie hesitated before
stepping on to the pavement. She felt uneasy about this meeting and was tempted
to ask the cabbie to turn round and take her straight back to Coco’s.

But gritting her teeth, she hurried through the food hall,
up the short flight of red-carpeted stairs and into the tearoom. She was bang
on time but Dan Moody was already sitting at a table by the window. He looked
as suave as last night, in a pin-striped suit and pale blue shirt, chatting
easily with his daughter and a young woman.

Dan smiled warmly when he spotted her.

‘Lizzie, come and sit down. You’ve already met my daughter
India. And this is India’s nanny, Scarlett Jones.’

India Moody gave Lizzie a toothy grin and whispered across
the table: ‘It’s nice to see you again.’

‘It’s lovely to see you too,’ said Lizzie. ‘Thank you so
much for asking me.’

The little girl, in a tartan skirt and navy jumper, had
clearly come straight from school. A notebook and crayons were laid out in
front of her and she immediately thrust a drawing of a Christmas tree in
Lizzie’s direction. Lizzie felt strangely touched by the little girl’s delight
at seeing her again.

‘Now, India,’ began Dan. ‘Scarlett’s going to take you
shopping in a moment, but I know you’re keen to talk to Lizzie first.’

‘I wanted to ask you a question,’ said India shyly.

‘You can ask me anything at all,’ said Lizzie.

‘W… what do you want for Christmas?’

Lizzie chuckled. India’s innocent inquiry was just about the
last question she’d expected.

‘Oooh, let me think. Do you know? The one thing in the whole
world I would really like is a dog. A chocolate Labrador called Lulu.’

India was clearly gripped by Lizzie’s answer.

“And will your Mummy and Daddy buy you a dog called Lulu?’
she asked eagerly.

Looking at India’s bright-eyed, innocent face, Lizzie wished
she could be that age again. Everything was so simple when you were seven.

‘They won’t, sadly,’ she said. ‘Well, I’m sure they’d like
to, but the thing is… I’ve got a really busy job. And I live in a very small
flat and I haven’t got a garden. So it wouldn’t really be fair on Lulu, would
it?’

‘S’pose not,’ agreed India. ‘But maybe one day…’

‘Maybe,’ agreed Lizzie. ‘But what about you, India? What do
you want for Christmas?’

The little girl put her head on one side as she puzzled over
Lizzie’s question.

‘I want snow,’ she said, her eyes dancing with merriment. ‘I
want it to snow on Christmas Day. Lots and lots of snow so I can go out in my
garden and build a snowman. With a carrot for his nose and buttons for his
eyes. And a red scarf round his neck.’

Amused by their exchange, Dan patted his daughter’s hand. ‘I
can buy you so many things for Christmas, darling, but the one think I can’t
fix is a White Christmas. You’ll have to put your thinking cap on, I’m afraid,
and come up with some more ideas.’

He nodded towards Scarlett and the nanny dutifully got to
her feet. She was clearly terrified of Dan, thought Lizzie. She’d barely
uttered a word.

‘Now, India darling, Lizzie and I have got some work matters
to go through. So can you run along with Scarlett? Give us half an hour,
Scarlett. I’ll meet you both by the car.’

Once the pair had gone, Dan turned to Lizzie, in work mode
now.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘But this wasn’t a
ruse. India was desperate to see you again, and I’m grateful that you agreed. I
want to give you a quick heads-up about some changes we’ve got planned. As a
matter of courtesy.’

Lizzie raised her eyebrows questioningly. Dan was clearly a
busy man. She couldn’t think what all this cloak and dagger stuff was all
about.

‘You’ll appreciate that there’s a lot going on at Ace TV
right now. The takeover’s being announced first thing tomorrow and we’ll be
flat out. But my team has been trawling through everything over the last few
days – the shows, the staff, the accounts. And I‘ve come to the conclusion that
the station needs a significant change of direction. And that’s where the
weather team comes in.’