Alan Parkinson

 

“Horrifying laser hair removal accidents?” Danny was confused.

“Birds with burnt minges and that.”

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re that bloke off the telly aren’t you? Channel Four?”

“Err, yes I am the commissioning editor.”

“I’m pitching my idea to you.”

“I’m trying to have dinner with my wife.”

“You’ll never get a second chance to make a first impression. When I saw you I just had to come over to talk to you.”

Danny Wakefield knew that it had been a mistake as soon as he agreed to it. Newly installed as commissioning editor and eager to impress he couldn’t say no when the station chief suggested advertising for ideas for shows. A big financial reward was available to the member of public who came up with the best idea. It was the bane of his life.

He wangled a slot on Channel Four News and then had an advert during every show from The Undateables to Come Dine With Me. His face was all over the TV and now he couldn’t move without someone stopping him with a hair-brained idea.

On the Tube, getting a coffee in Starbucks, at the match at the weekend and now, whilst trying to have a romantic meal with his wife. None of his time was his own. The public would not leave him alone.

The meal ruined he got the bill and then went outside to hail a cab. Luckily he got one straight away before anybody could accost him. Danny and his wife got into the taxi without speaking.

“Guess who I had in my Cab earlier?” said the taxi driver.

“I don’t know, who did you have?” Danny really couldn’t be bothered to have a conversation but played along.

“No, I had nobody today. That’s the name of the show. You can get loads of London Cabbies to tell their tales of who they’ve had in the back of their taxis.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” His wife shook her head.

“I think that one may have been done before.” Danny wasn’t sure whether it had or not. He didn’t care.

“Oh. Right. Give me five minutes, I’ll come up with some other ones.”

“No need, don’t worry about it.”

“No you’re right, I know where you live now. I’ll pop round when I’ve had a bit more time to think about it.”

Danny slumped back into the seat. He tried to take his wife’s hand but she pulled it away.

The taxi pulled up outside the house. They exited in silence.

“Mr Wakefield?” The public had even taken to waiting outside of their house now.

His wife shook her head again and headed up the path grabbing the keys from her bag.

“Yes?” Said Danny.

“I would kill you to be on the TV.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good name for a TV show.”

“I’m not sure that you understand.” The man emerged from the shadows and removed the knife from his jacket.

******

If you enjoyed this story, you may enjoy some of Alan Parkinson’s novels available on Amazon.