My Magazine Ch. 12

Gina clapped her hands, and did a little dance.

Leonardo looked pleased.

"You will feel blessed Jenni."

Not quite understanding if he meant by the Virgin Mary or alternatively she would experience a great many happy times, Jenni nodded and smiled.

"If you wish, I shall be available at times to baby sit with you when you have your godchild staying with you. I love babies," Gina said.

"Oh I don't think her parents will let her stay at my place until she's nearing school age."

"Jenni of course they will," Gina said. "Her mother will wish her to be influence by you."

"They know it will be a girl?"

"No Leonardo, but I just think it's going to be a girl."

"You've seen the mother?"

"Yes and just recently. She's looking fine."

"Then if you have seen her you may have the gift of perception."

"I like the thought of that Leonardo. But we will just have to wait and see."

Gina looked at Jenni closely.

"You have already started buying girls' things haven't you?"

Jenni coloured slightly and said that she could always give them away if it turned out to be a boy.

"It will be a girl," said Gina softly.

God she was a lot like her, Jenni thought. But she was too soft to be a cynical journalist.

"Fetch our wine please Gina and then get back to work."

"Yes papa."

Jenni watched her walk away with a delightful sway of hips that some carefree young women manage with such grace. She sighed.

"She's such a soft and obedient daughter, isn't she?"

"Sometimes, sometimes," said Leonardo, shaking his head.

"I must get back to supervising my staff, I have a new day manager on duty," he added, making no effort to leave the table.

An attractive, square shouldered woman carrying a Giovanni deLuca leather and gold studded handbag walked up the steps directly to the table.

"Jenni I presume," she said warmly, dabbing her forehead with a handkerchief. She wore gorgeously tailored black clothes, but was a little over-dressed for such warm weather.

"Yes indeed Vasanti; how lovely to meet you."

Vasanti stood over Jenni and they shook hands.

Turning from signalling for another wine glass, Leonardo looked surprised.

"I would have thought you too hadn't met?"

"Yes dear and you're quite right. But don't worry your pretty head over that. Jenni doesn't require me to carry a big sign saying, Hello I am Vasanti."

"But I can't believe it. How do you do it?"

"Look, Leo - you can tell anyone whether they are interested or not about the result of some game of football that you haven't seen and played on the other side of the world. How you do it is a mystery to me. But do I go all goofy and ask, "How do you do it?" No, I don't because I simply accept that men are good at doing a few things. Rather than being on the other side of the world, Jenni is right here in front of me. So no big deal eh?"

Leonardo looked appealing at Jenni, who simply rolled her eyes and shrugged. She was witnessing a man being dealt with by an absolute expert. It was quite break-taking and she didn't want it to stop.

"Help me out here Jenni huh? She came walking straight to my table so you knew she was my wife, and somebody had told you her name, Gina perhaps?"

"She has Nico's eyes and jaw shape and Katarina's teeth so she had to be Vasanti - right? Jenni said delivering a porky. As she said that she watched Vasanti's eyebrows arch.

"Oh that is all right then. I see, there's no mystery at all. You had me going there for a few moments Vasanti."

"Leo what are the colour of my eyes?" asked Yasanti.

"Light brown, sometimes almost hazel?"

"And Nico's?"

"Almost coal black. Oh."

"Doesn't Katarina have half a mouth full of gold caps and one of her front teeth is turning almost black?"

"Yes but I know you and Jenni are busily deceiving me. You are both rotten women."

"Oh thank you Leonardo," said Jenni sweetly. "Girls don't often get such a charming compliment like that from a debonair gentleman like you."

Vasanti shrieked with laughter, startling people on nearby tables.

"Is everything all right here?" cried Gina, running up to the table and carrying a towel. "Has there been an accident?"

"It's only your father making yet another feeble attempt of trying to understand women."

"These two women - Jenni and your mother - they should not be in the same place together. They are too dangerous."

"Oh stop pretending to be having a paddy papa. Tell me, what's the problem?"

"Your mother and Jenni didn't know each other and yet they knew each other?"

"Oh dear, you do have or problem or perhaps you can translate that sentence to give it greater clarity?"

"Your mother walked up and called Jenni by her name and Jenni said to your mother, you must be Vasanti?"

"Yes, but what's wrong with that?" soothed Gina, turning and winking at her mother and Jenni.

"You women - you are worse than the Labour Party or the Mafia. You make it so difficult to prosper."

"Papa when you were busy watching that customer drag one of your precious tables across the concrete to place it against another table, Jenni asked me what mama was doing today, and I said she's gone to get a Giovanni deLuca leather and gold studded handbag she's had her eye on for some time. Jenni was impressed as she knows the brand. She asked me what mama's name was and I told her.

Leonardo looked relieved, but then his face clouded again. But how did your mother know Jenni was Jenni.

With great patience Gina explained. "Because mama reads magazines, newspapers and watches television. You work some nights so perhaps you missed seeing Jenni three times on TV. You don't read women's magazines so will not have read My Magazine issue one. You read only the first page of the morning newspaper, the sports pages and the pages where they publish court decisions about restaurants being fined for serving liquor to drunks or unaccompanied under-age persons, or slam kitchens for having more than the minimum allowable number of cockroaches or heavily fine restaurateurs who fail to understand women, then of course you would not have seen Jenni's face everywhere, but mama did. End of story.

"Shhh Gina it is not done to talk loudly about cockroaches. Customers do not understand kitchen staff has them as pets."

"Good god," Vasanti said. "The brain has slipped into gear. I've got my husband and his lovely sense of humour back. Oh god I am so happy. I must go out and shop."

"Sit here and drink wine and befriend Jenni," commanded her husband. "I really must get back to work. And Jenni, from now on call me Leo. My friends and sometimes my wife call me Leo."

"Thank you Leo, I've really enjoyed talking to you," Jenni waved happily.

"I suspect that he knew all along that there was a logical explanation," Vasanti said. "Italian men like to pretend they are dumb at times, they can be just like little boys. Women of course have the difficult of knowing if they are playing dumb or really are dumb at any given moment. It's just something women have to learn to live with."

"Oh dear that could be a bit of a strain."

"Ye and it would make a good story for your magazine, don't you think?"

"That's just what I was thinking Vasanti. May I have a look at your lovely new handbag? Some women will almost kill to get one of these into their hands."

"I think my husband will almost die when the credit card bill arrives," Vasanti giggled.

Jenni hurried back to the office, arriving at 2:45. She was relieved to find that Vivian had slipped into her deputy editor role and had started the meeting.

"We finished a few minutes ago but decided to wait a few minutes in case you turned up. There's one remaining item we need to discuss with you."

"Oh I'm sorry," said Jenni, with her normal frankness. "I got drinking and talking with Gina's father the restaurateur Leo at Leo's and then Gina's mother arrived and ..."

"Thanks Jenni. We get the picture," Vivian said firmly. "In this morning's mail came entry forms for the annual National Media Awards which this year are being sponsored by Lighthouse Paper Importers Incorporated. We need to discuss entries. You first Jennie."

"When is the closing date for nominations?"

"The thirty-first of next month."

"Good," Jenni said. "We can deal here and now with any nominations to be made on behalf of JJ Publications Ltd, and then before the end of next month with the third issue on behalf of Zephyr Media Ltd."

"We were hoping you would say that," Ella said.

"Right I've seen all the copy although not the final output, but I feel our current lead story merits an entry in to the 'Best Multi-Writer Feature" category in the magazine section. We will confirm this when we see the final proofs."

"The only nomination I have in mind is Rhonda for the Most Promising New Columnist category."

Applause greeted that comment.

"I had thought about nominating ourselves for the Magazine of the Year category but feel perhaps we would wait until we consolidate and fine-tune everything."

Vivian asked for any further comment.

"I've got nothing to add apart from Jenni as Journalist of the Year,' Brenda said.

That suggestion received murmurs of approval.

"I'm sorry but no," Jenni said. "And I mean no. Let some other deserving younger journalist take my place in the queue. Thank you for your compliment Brenda and may I say if you stretch yourself just a little bit more you will find yourself being nominated for an award before very long. Awards go to outstanding achievers and it is my belief that you are within an ace of getting there. I put you on to subbing in the hope in trying to improve the work of colleagues you would learn to judge your own writing just as critically."

"Thanks Jenni. Regarding tickets - management at Zephyr has always provided a double ticket only to individual finalists. Will you consider doing that?"

"You would like me to top that?"

"Yes!" came the chorus.

"Well, I notice the date of the awards presentation comes approximately three months after we shift back to Zephyr. So do I have agreement of everyone on this - on our last day here we have a few quiet drinks, inviting Nico and those of his extended family we have dealt with. Then JJ Publications shall provide a complimentary double ticket to the awards evening for everyone still with us who worked on issues one and two plus Nico. Bundled with each double ticket will be two twenty dollar taxi chits."

"That's wonderful Jenni," Vivian said. "And it's exceedingly generous of you as we know those tickets are not cheap."

"You guys are worth it," Jenni smiled, amid applause.

Friday was usually the worst day of the working week for Jenni. Material for deadlines set for Wednesday and Thursday often are stretched to Friday by contributors and even staff writers, resulting in an overload on the copy processing system.

Many advertising agencies dispatch client's film-work on Friday morning and would then go to lunch, often switching their phones off as the drinking intensified, making themselves non-available to answer any queries or to authorise corrections when mistakes have been noticed.

When staff writers and others with queries try to contact people they often have "left for the weekend", meaning a long weekend that includes Friday morning. Of course the problem is shared by other publishers and the disappearing act is by no means confined to publishing.

On this particular Friday Jenni received two 'difficult' phone calls.

At 9:30 came the call from a real estate agent, angrily claiming that My Magazine was trying to persuade one of his salespersons - Tess Jordan - to breach client confidentiality in writing for the magazine about the search for property and transaction experiences involved in purchases and also to publish Tess's photograph in her column. The agency believed other more deserving staff members should receive that public exposure.

"Well Mr Sparrow, I am sure it has not been my member of staff's intention to persuade Tess to do anything improper such as breach of client confidentiality. I'm surprised my writer is alleged to be involved in such an unsavoury proposition."

"What do you mean by 'alleged' - are you calling me a liar?"

"I would not challenge the integrity of a real estate agent without reason Mr Sparrow," countered Jenni. "Are you telling me that my writer asked Tess to name this client?"

"No."

"Ah but you believe my writer asked Tess to reveal details of the property including its exact location and then to relate a step-be-step account on how the transaction came unstuck and how she managed to stitch everything together to the satisfaction of all involved?"

"Well not quite Mrs Giles."

"It's Miss, actually, but call me Jenni if you prefer. So what do you mean by not quite?"

"Well your writer apparently was seeking generalisations."

"Oh I see. So your salesperson spoke about a problematic real estate transitions in general terms without naming the exact location or without giving any names to my writer."

"Exactly."

"Then who would be any wiser after reading details of this story, especially any of our readers living in places such as Chichester, Cwmbran or Aberdeen?"

"The people involved of course."

"But they know they were involved and know all of the details, Mr er Mr Sparrow."

"But ... oh I see. Well perhaps it's not going to be the problem I imagined."

No and perhaps Mr Sparrow is tired after being awaken that morning by the dawn chorus (of birds including sparrows, thought Jenni, and that impudent thought triggered another thought.

"Mr Sparrow - do you have a relative called Sharon Sparrow?"

"Yes she's my young niece. How is it you know her?"

"She works for a company which I join at the end of the month as joint-managing director."

"And you already know her?"

"Yes, indeed I do. She's a lovely young woman and because of my past association I believe I know practically everyone in the firm by name."

"I be darned, some of you media people are incredible. Say, aren't you that woman that my wife was raving on about?"

"Yes perhaps your wife has seen my name mentioned or my face on TV. I try to keep out of the limelight as much as I can."

"I see."

"Now we have one more problem to resolve. You say there are other more deserving salespeople on your staff to be a contributing columnist on real estate than Tess?"

"Yes definitely."

"Right and you will have no trouble of getting someone who looks more attractive and more professional than Tess standing outside your office - a photograph showing you company's name heading her column in our magazine?"

"Um well she does project quite an image. Miss Giles could you stick with Tess?"

"Why certainly Mr Sparrow. Please advise Tess about your considered decision. I shall likewise inform my writer responsible for editing that column, Vivian Stanton."

"Yes indeed. My wife will be interested to learn that I have been chatting with you. Now that we have cleared up those issues, can we interest you in a property upgrade for yourself or property as an investment?"

Well done Jenni, she congratulated herself. Tess's first 'Behind Real Estate Deals' article had already gone through to production for a double-page spread in issue two.

No more problems today please, she thought one call a day like that was quite sufficient.

But within the hour rather than a complaint came a threat.

As soon as insolent voice barked, "Is that the Editor?" Jenni's back straightened and her jaw line tightened. She pressed a button to alert Rhonda to pick up her phone and take notes of the conversation - including full details involving accusations or threats. She heard the gentle click as Rhonda picked up her phone.

"Jenni Giles speaking."

"Cedric Chatsworth, Minister of Energy speaking. I am very angry with you and your magazine."

"Oh dear, let me see if I can assist you to overcome your problem."

"It's not my problem, it's yours. If you print one word - one word mind you - of what my wife said to that damn reporter of yours then I will sue you and you won't be left with a penny to run that gutter magazine of yours. Do you hear?"

"Loud and clear, Mr Chatsworth, but before threatening me we should first discuss the problem you have. What is upsetting you so much to make you behave like this?"

"Hah diversionary tactics eh? At least you are smart Giles. Your reporter is a disgrace to journalism. She has invaded my home and induced my wife to talk about things she has no right to talk about to anyone. You've already pulled one of our esteem colleagues into the mud and now you are having a crack at me. I won't stand for this, do you hear? You appear to be attempting to bring down the Government."

"Well Chatsworth you have made two charges - that we invaded your home and that we are attempting to bring down the Government. I deny that last charge emphatically - it's ridiculous. Secondly, our writer was invited into your house by your wife, and we have a recorded telephone message to that effect."

"I'm tell you ..."

"May I speak to Mrs Chatsworth please."

"Why?"

"Because I have two questions to ask her."

"Tell them to me and I will relay them."

"Mrs Chatsworth, please."

"Oh all right."

"It's Sybil Chatsworth speaking Jenni. I am sorry about this."

"Greetings this sort of situation crops up occasionally. I have two questions for you.

"Is there anything you wish to have deleted from our interview with you?"

"No providing I will be reported accurately."

"Are you happy with us to report, without malice and accurately, anything you said in part or in full?"

"Yes of course. Go ahead."

"Thank you. Could you hand me back to our angry man."

"Giles ignore what she said, I mean it. Publish one word from that interview and I you'll land in court."

"Chatsworth we pride ourselves on freedom of speech in this country and your wife had freedom of speech and we have freedom publish what she says, with limited exceptions - none of which cover your outrageous demands."

"Look Giles as well as suing you I shall make it my task as a Minister of the Crown to personally ensure that your magazine never gets any advertising - not one column inch- of Government or Government related advertising if you publish my wife's comments to your reporter."

"Was that interview the sole interview your wife had with our magazine yesterday?"

"Of course it was and we both know that."

"Thank you for the confirmation, Chatsworth. You have made improper threats against me and My Magazine to try to achieve your personal desires. The threat about no Government or Government-related advertising will be of extreme interest to the appropriate Government watchdog as it is anti-competitive in nature."

"Now I require a written apology in my hands by or before 9:00 am next Tuesday the sixteenth from you for your comments to me today and an undertaking that you will make no attempt to interfere with the commercial operations of this magazine, Chatsworth. I ..."

"Listen Giles you don't know what you're taking about. I shall be instructing my solicitor to take action to prevent you publishing any comments from my wife."

"Make sure you take expert advice Chatsworth otherwise your proposed actions will cost you dearly - more than you can imagine right now. Goodbye and please give my best wishes to Mrs Chatsworth."

"You'll be closed down by Monday afternoon Giles. Mark my words."

Rhonda came rushing in.

"Good heavens, what a brute and a bully. He had no right to be talking to you like that, but there we are - he did. Are you really sure of the legalities?"

"Well individuals can be charged with anti-competitive business conduct but I will need to seek legal advice about the extent to which there is coverage against threats rather than actual action to initiate anti-competitive action. Also he was not acting on behalf of the Crown so in my opinion he would not be covered by any special privilege granted to a Minister."