Here’s the first post of the new year. A weird little something which I whipped up while having a cup of tea. It might help if you imagine that the interviewer looks a bit like Terry Wogan. On the other hand it might not. Feel free to pretend that YOU are the interviewer. Enjoy!
“Room for a little one?” he said.
Talking to himself while doing cocaine was one of his more irritating habits, she thought.
He snorted, then massaged his nose wetly with his fingertips. She led him to his seat in front of the cameras. That was what she resented most: he didn’t need to be led to a chair he sat in five evenings a week. How was that even a job?
Opposite him was the unoccupied chair. The guest was always a surprise. She melted into the crew on the other side of the camera.
And then: the interviewer’s mother. Everyone laughed. They hadn’t been expecting that. She started talking, and the room went silent. Across the country, the living rooms all went silent. She was so wise – they could see where he had got it from.
There was no need for coke in the dressing room anymore. She made him warm milk, then picked him up and carried him to the chair in front of the cameras. He curled up in her lap. Sometimes he let his eyes close as he lay against her bosom, while she chatted to the guests.
