It was ten minutes to show time. Jennifer sat at her dressing room table going through emails and letters from fans. Her personal assistant Fronq was sat on the couch reading from a sheaf of papers marked with a pink circle at the top left hand corner. His way of sorting the wheat from the chaff. Of course, everyone got some kind of response from her even if it was a signed photo and a standard letter of thanks. The things that Jennifer wanted to keep high on her public profile got a personal reply.
"Look Jen love, Children in Need have emailed again. You really do need to respond." Fronq Picele was camper than a gingham handbag full of pink wafer biscuits. Impeccably dressed in a pale blue three piece suit, pink shirt and bow tie. Well tanned from many sunbed appointments, dark haired and the wearer of a well trimmed moustache. Expensive jewellery in his wrist, fingers and ears. Although ridiculously effete, he was the best PA in the business. He often fielded offers of more money from other stars after his services. He didn't want to go anywhere else though, Jennifer Davison was British TV. The biggest star in the firmament. As long as that star was shining, he was going to be close by.
"Why? I don't have children. Why on earth would I want to save other ones?" She spat. Jennifer had never done Children in Need. It jarred with her. "Tell them I'm abroad. Give a donation of some kind. Brush it under the carpet."
"Of course love." Replied Fronq. Jennifer knew that he didn't approve, but wouldn't dare say anything about it if he wanted to keep his job. Being Jennifer's PA gave him access to every showbiz party in the country and some abroad too. Also, as many pretty gay waiters and barmen as he could handle. She knew he knew how good he had it. She also knew his real name was Frank Pickles. Fronq thought no one knew that, but Jennifer knew people who could find all sorts of things out, for the right price.
There were messages from fans looking for momentos, some normal some downright weird. Charities looking for donations of dresses and shoes for auction. Fronq mentioned that there was an invitation to a high school reunion and was about to consign it to the bin when Jennifer told him to put a pin in it. She would talk to her husband about his plans before RSVP'ing. He had mentioned it in his phone message from Saudi Arabia earlier today and said that it might be a fun thing to do. See all their old friends, not have to be the public Richard and Jennifer for even a little while.
The floor manager poked her head around the door anouncing that she had five minutes before she had to be on set and Fronq sashayed out to run some errands. When the door closed and she was alone in the room she locked it and pulled a small packet and a straw from her handbag. Thirty seconds later two healthy lines of cocaine were on her compact mirror and she proceeded to make short work of them. Once the mini explosion of pleasure in her head had subsided she felt more alert and focussed on the job at hand. She was running low on charlie though. Richard would have to get her some more. If he wanted her to keep his dirty little secret, he'd have to keep her in columbian marching powder for life.
She walked to set, had her costume and make up touch ups, and sat on her couch in front of the cameras. She could feel the excited buzz of the studio audience and overheard snatches of conversation complimenting her on her figure and looks. This was where she belonged. The floor manager counted down five, four. Then on her fingers three, two, one.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, my name is Jennifer Davison, welcome to tonights show!" The audience went crazy. "Tonight, we have interviews with Jeff Bridges, JK Rowling and music from Jamie Cullum. Also, I'm going to tell you about my latest venture, the Jennifer Davison Anti Drugs Foundation."
The irony wasn't lost on her.