Cherrington Triumphs

"Oh, is that really sexy you?"

"No but it's what I'm paid to do. One of our scriptwriters had been working with the R&D team and her script is now with the head of department and we await his approval with or without amendments. You know we probably could do a similar feature on the creation of an advertising campaign from discussion through to launch, involving you with your breasts half-hanging out of your low-cut dress."

"Oh are you really serious?" Veronica said. "Our CEO would probably jump at the chance to get some exposure locally out of that."

"Even if we need you to be filmed with your tits hanging out?"

"We'd have to think carefully about that. We have an image to uphold."

"Oh, is there something wrong with your tits?"

They were away laughing again.

CHAPTER 3

Cherrington was living with Lionel Ramsbottom, aged thirty-eight, who sold new Jaguar cars and was hugely successful at earning big commissions. They'd met at night club when he dealt with a drunk guy pestering Cherrington.

They lived in Lionel's apartment in Chelsea. He was married but hadn't seen his wife for more than two years and had no idea where she was. He only liked watching the news and documentaries on TV and that was fine with Cherrington and he had a voracious sexual appetite and that was fine with her too. They usually ate out at nights and he knew a huge numbers of people and many of those people, particularly the wives and girlfriends, knew of Cherrington as the famous Parker and Wallace book lady/book consultant/book recommender or whatever name they fancied. People also recalled reading interviews with Cherrington in the dailies and in magazines or had seen her presenting mini-documentaries on TV or presenting 'human interest' film clips on TV news about medical breakthroughs or inventions likely to assist housewives or the aged.

That evening Lionel had caterers in for a buffet dinner for invited fifteen couples he called his closest friends to watch the screening on the BBC of what he called Cherrington's first televised epic.

Moving Eye Studio regarded it as one of its most successful and largest productions. Cherrington had researched the subject, written the script, planned the filming modules and was the presenter. It ran for sixty minutes less one break to promote upcoming TV programs and was called, 'Growing Old on the Farm.'

The BBC executives who'd seen a short preview screening during the sales pitch by Moving Eye Studios, couldn't believe such a boring subject as moaning farmers surrounded by mud and cowpats could be presented in such a way they were left gob-smacked in admiration. That really was surprisingly because the BBC has a long history of creating compelling filming out of everyday dreariness to gob-smack viewers such as the international award-winning "Harrow's Sparrows'

The film began with two women in a Land Rover being filmed. Their names came up bottom-of screen, Presenter/narrator Cherrington Vixen as the driver and Film Director Wendy Carlisle.

Wendy: What on earth are we doing coming all this way, almost to Frome, in Somerset, to film this particular farm? There are farms much closer to London.

Cherrington: Because the script says we start here.

Wendy: Yes I know that but I also know you wrote the script.

Cherrington: Keep your hat on; does it matter where we begin?

Wendy: Okay but there's no need to act as if you are the producer.

Cherrington: Well if you must know two years ago I came here to Thistle Farm with my boyfriend at the time and came face to face to moo-moos.

Wendy: What the [bleep] are they?

Cherrington: There they are out in the fields (cows are shown grazing or looking up at the vehicle.

Wendy (laughing): But they are cows.

Cherrington: Well I wasn't thinking was I? I hadn't been on a farm since I was at primary school and any way my boyfriend called them that and I didn't know he was teasing.

Wendy: [Bleep] I can't believe this. I'm to direct the filming of the national problem of ageing farmers locked into their properties devised and written and narrated by a prissy-looking babe like you who calls cows moo-moos and this is the only farm you've been on since primary school forty years ago.

Cherrington: [Bleep] I'm not that [Bleep] old.

Wendy: Well obviously you can cuss like a farmer.

(Viewers watching with Lionel and Cherrington were rolling on their chairs laughing.)

The scene changed to an over-weight and heavily-breasted woman in a smock top and jeans two sizes too big for her coming to the door and seeing the two women and a close-up camera-man and she says, "What the hell do you want?"

"Hi Mrs Brandon. We are a film unit investigating the plight of elderly farmers in England trapped on their farms because their children are off earning big money. The parents want the kids back home to buy the farm otherwise those mums and dads will be the generation who sold the farm, decimating family tradition stretching back zonks."

"Who told you that lie?"

"You did Mrs Brandon. I came here two years ago with your son and spent two nights here."

As directed, Mrs Brandon stepped forward and took a closer look at Cherrington.

"Omigod, the girl with the funny name, something like Herringbone, who slept with my son against my wishes and then not long after that visit you dumped Guy."

"Mrs Brandon how old are you?"

"Sixty-three but that's none of your business. Omigod I remember embarrassing you laughing my head off when Guy said he'd told you we farmed moo-moos and you believed that."

"Well enjoy laughing at my expense Mrs Brandon. Tell me, is it correct that at sixty-three you still milk as does your husband Bert?"

"Yes we milk 137 moo moos you twit."

"Should you be retired enjoying life in the local village after all the years of hard grind?"

"Yes we should and it has been a hard grind."

"So why continue the grind at your ages?"

"Because we are waiting for the kids or at least one of them, to tire of city life and come home and buy the farm. This land has been farmed by the Brandons for five generations and no [bleep] way will Bert and I be the ones to end a family tradition. Oh [bleep]. I've confirmed what you alleged and you have that on film. God Herring Bone...

"Cherrington."

"God Cherrington you've got a lot smarter than when you were here two years ago. You lot put away those moving picture makers and you all better come in for tea and hot-buttered scones."

"Mrs Brandon?"

"Yes Hetherington?"

"It's actually Cherrington. Think of cherries."

"Actually I was thinking of heather."

"We won't accept hospitality unless you promise to talk to us truthfully about you plight as we film."

"Oh all right. I've seen you quite regularly on TV and admire you smallish bosom. Have you noticed mine?"

"No Mrs Brandon. Is it unusual?"

"You know nothing, see nothing. Little wonder my son dumped you."

The doco interviewing and fact-finding became more serious and more intensive and yet some of the rural characters interview shone through and only two thought the Government should do something to help them.

Government and agriculture officials were interviewed as well as head of farmer's organizations. When winding up the program, Cherrington said, "Forget about the early emphasis I placed on moo-moos and the laughter we shared with farming folk along the way. What you have witnessed during this rural journey is the acceptance by most of those we talked to that little can be done about this change in farming. Owners of family farms are in a squeeze and no fix for it is in sight. Think of shipping and the change those owners went through and had to adapt of get out, from sail to steam to oil propulsion and perhaps one day back to sail when the finite resources run out."

"Family farms will continue to disappear and the new owners will be neighbors or newcomers to farming or investor who'll hire managers and labor and corporations who will chase profits for as long as we demand milk, meat, wheat and the other wide range of products that come off the land. All will not be lost... apart from the family farm."

Lionel looked delighted at seeing everyone in the big room congratulating his lover and his lover accepted the tributes and hoped the public screening might lead to her next big opportunity.

It did.

The plight of the elderly locked into their family farms was not new but the doco had rekindled interest in the issue because of the novel presentation. Newspapers published numerous letters from readers and editors wrote editorials and there were debates in rural community halls and the Government was blamed for the problem by angry speakers on talkback radio.

On the morning after the TV screening, Cherrington was interviewed on TV by a woman who alleged all the speakers in the documentary had read from prepared script, script prepared by Cherrington.

"I disagree. Please get you facts right before rushing in like that."

Cherrington continued, "The opening shot of my director and myself was the only dialogue to be scripted in the way you suggested. That was done to get the ball rolling. After that the only person who roughly followed any script was me. I accept the first farmer to appear on-screen, Mrs Brandon appeared larger than life and played into my hands whenever she spoke. But please accept I had met Mrs Brandon two years earlier and knew what she was like. She and her husband had not been told we would be arriving and at no time were they rehearsed. In fact not a single person I interviewed was rehearsed and could not be if we were to retain credibility for our documentary."

"Well I find that hard to believe Miss Vixen."

"Lucky for you I anticipated the possibility of someone making unwarranted attacks on our credibility and here is a list of every one we interviewed with full contact details. Here is my phone, please call anyone of these people or as many as you wish and asked them were they rehearsed or fed their lines. Go on."

"I see no need to do that Miss Vixen. I accept your assurances."

"Thank you. Please keep the list and find time to call some of these people and if you find any of them saying they were rehearsed or whatever, then get them into the studio and get them to roast me."

"Well thank you for coming in Miss Vixen and good luck with your next film."

When the filming stopped the interviewer said angrily to Cherrington, "You embarrassed me."

"Oh really, and what were you attempting to do to me? Goodbye Jennifer.

Jill and Neil took Cherrington to lunch next day.

"We are interested to know if you have had a spate a job offers."

"No Jill, should I have received some?"

Jill giggled and said, "We are aware you didn't come down with the last shower Cherrington.

"Well I did think someone might be willing to take my career to the next level."

Neil said well all they could do was to offer her a bit more money. They would consider her for a senior job placement if any resignations eventuated.

Cherrington had a sudden thought. What Neil and Jill were saying was they had her nicely slotted and she should think that way as well. So this was it, as far as she could go?

"I think I should resign and set off and find a new direction. I'm now twenty-eight and it's time for me to seek greater status in my career."

"This is a shock," Jill said and looked shocked. "We haven't upset you have we?"

"Not at all. This little chat made me think I should try to move forward."

"Yeah it could be the right time to move on," Neil said.

Jill glared at him and said perhaps not, that Cherrington should take time out and think about it.

"No I think I should go. When may I leave?"

"Now if you wish," Neil said. "As you know we are not busy at the moment and your book contract was not renewed because they are moving in a new direction."

"I suggest you say another month and really think about it, take a few days off," Jill said.

Cherrington said she would leave at the end of the week, providing Jill agreed.

Jill sighed and said yes that would be okay.

On Friday afternoon after a farewell lunch at Moving Eye Studios, Cherrington drove 3½ hours in a rental vehicle and stopped at a familiar looking house. She found a couple seated on the porch drinking wine and scarcely recognized them.

They were her parents.

He mother said, "Yes Miss, how may we help you?"

"I'm your daughter, don't you recognized me?"

Her mother stood to move closer and fell over.

Cherrington helped her mother to her feet and thought her mother had lost so much weight that it was alarming. Her father looked up at her rather vacantly and Cherrington looked on the table between the couple and saw a small selection of pills and guessed they were 'recreational' drugs.

Her father said, "Milly has been sick. Some jerk badly mistreated her and she's had a hysterectomy."

"Leave me, let me go you slut and Dan you stop talking like that about me to strangers."

Cherrington was distressed and thought her parents didn't know her and didn't want to know her.

She left, driving back to London two days earlier than planned and at the apartment found Lionel in bed asleep with another woman. She spent the next hour quietly packing her possessions and left, driving to a hotel where she booked in for two nights and then returned her rental car and got some of her money she'd paid for the three day hire back.

Cherrington felt sad and lonely, adrift and took a cab back to her hotel. She cried herself to sleep. In the morning she called her Aunt Mae and told her the dreadful condition her parents were in.

"I felt helpless, not knowing what to do."

"Leave it to me darling. Reggie and I will go to them. We are both trained to work with people in distress and will involve local welfare groups."

The talked for a while more and Cherrington thanked her aunt and said she'd keep in touch.

Late next afternoon Mae called.

"Darling I have bad news. Can you have someone sit with you before I tell you?"

"Nobody is near. I am sitting so tell me."

"The police are here, nothing can be done for Milly and Daniel. They both left notes and I was able to positively identify Milly's handwriting but the forensic people will sort it out."

"A double suicide?"

"Yes dear and I know it's very tragic but as you said, their physical and obviously their mental condition had obviously deteriorated hugely since I last saw them. We must assume they have only themselves to blame. Reggie found them in the garage. There is no need to discuss details. He found them together looking peaceful."

"I'll come now, it's not too late for train service."

When Cherrington arrived at the station she found her aunt and uncle waiting for her and was so relieved they'd done that. They two women sat on a seat in the waiting room and hugged and cried.

Next morning Jill called and said a Mike Hamill of Froggy Pond Independent Films had called asking was there any chance of hiring Cherrington for a project to commence in a few weeks.

"I said you'd just left our employment. Here's his phone number darling. Jump at the chance but hold out for good money. Froggy Pond is one of the big three independent filmmakers in London at present. You could get all the career challenges you desire working for them."

Cherrington called Mike Hamill and he said he had a long-term job contract offer he'd like to discuss with her. She told him she was at home involved in a family funeral. He said there was no rush but could she call back within the next two weeks.

Cherrington made that call a few days later.

"Hi Mr Hamill, it's Cherrington Vixen, the woman..."

"Yes I recall our recent conversation. When would you be free to have lunch with me and another representative of our company?"

"I'll be back in London tomorrow morning so could have that meeting as soon as tomorrow. I'm interested in finding a new career direction despite coming into a lot of money. My work means everything to me."

"I'm sorry about you family loss Cherrington."

"Thanks, it's over and done with now," she said, offering no details and wasn't pressed to do so.

They arranged to meet at 1:00 at the Oxo Tower Restaurant on the 5th floor of Oxo Tower on South Bank and Cherrington was told the restaurant, not the brasserie and was given the address.

The family's solicitor had told Cherrington she'd inherit money and investments that might reach £760,000 after probate and tax clearance but added to that would be the net figure from the sale of the house that might fetch close to £130,000. She was grateful but wished her parents were alive and fit and happy and enjoying a comfortable early retirement living on their assets. She'd learned her mother had resigned from her job after Dan had lost her job as a bank executive on the grounds of 'periodic outburst of alarming erratic behavior' for which he refused to seek medical help.

Well that was all behind her now, although not the memories of her parents in both the good and upsetting times.

Mike Hamill, a thickset and heavy jowl six-foot guy, recognized Cherrington as soon as she entered the crowded restaurant and left the nearby table and hurried to her, holding out his hand to shake hers.

"Thanks for coming to hear our proposal."

"Well Jill Aitken said you had inquired about hiring me fairly long term and that sounds interesting enough. Obviously something must be in the wind."

"Well you have a good handle on this. Come and meet our senior film director."

"Fine and what is your title Mike?"

"I'm productions coordinator with responsibilities for assessing new business proposals."

"Oooh, busy boy."

The 40-year old grinned and said, "Cherrington Vixen, this professionally very distinguished lady is our studios senior film director, Margo Boyd."

The silver-haired and sharp-nosed woman in her mid-fifties looked approvingly at their guest and pointing to the chair between her and Mike suggested a glass of champagne just as the bottle and three glasses arrived. Cherrington smiled and said yes.

They were eating when Margo began the presentation.

"We have a purchased a wonderful script from a university lecturer in social behavioral sciences based on the research she undertook when completed her PhD and she has advanced her study in the three years since then resulting in this screen play she has submitted. We have had several meetings with her and she is willing to have her work converted into a more light-hearted manner that would be digestible by the average TV viewer.

"Does that mean dramatized and make more easily understood by the average woman sitting in front of TV... oh and Mr Thick as well"?"

Mike grinned and said, "Exactly. The ease with which you grasped our need borders on being breathtaking."

"How many drinks have you had Mike?"

Mike and Margo laughed, Margo eyeing Cherrington closely.

She said, "I'll be frank Cherrington. I regard making this program my baby, to be one of the highlights of my career and will direct filming myself. I had thought you would be too young to present this film and that we should use an academic in that role but others attempted to convince them otherwise."

"Then Mike sat me down and played 'Growing Old on the Farm.' I missed seeing it on TV because I was in France at the time it screened. Again I'll be frank, I was smitten by your on-screen appearance and vitality and you're ability to have converted a depressing national social issue into such an entertaining and easily digestible program for home TV entertainment. And that is why we are having this meeting."

"Are you going to tell me what it's about?"

Margo sniffed. As submitted the title of the screenplay is, 'How Changing Social Mores Have Changed the Appearance of Prostitution in Britain over the Past Century."