To Hell in a Handcart. Richard Littlejohn

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СКАЧАТЬ knocking off a divorced dental hygienist at the time and had been able to negotiate a discount for cash from the South African dentist with whom she shared a surgery. She eventually gave up on Ricky, hooked up with the dentist and moved to Jo’burg, where she was killed in a drive-by shooting. Some people never know when they’re well off, Ricky remarked when he heard the news.

      ‘How’s it going, mate?’

      Ricky looked up and saw Charlie Lawrence standing in the studio doorframe.

      ‘This isn’t a job for grown-ups,’ he replied, running his fingers roughly through his hair, massaging his scalp as he did it, trying to relieve the tensions of dealing with the great unwashed and their uninformed, unfocused view of the world, three hours a day, five days a week.

      ‘You look plenty grown up to me, mate. A little too grown. Not so much grown up as grown out. You should take up squash,’ said Charlie, indicating Ricky’s middle-age spread.

      ‘You must be joking,’ Ricky said. ‘Anyway, this is all bought and paid for. Once you’re older than your waist size, it’s not worth the bother.’

      ‘Oh, no? Take me, mate. We’re, what, about the same age? I’ve still got a six-pack.’

      ‘So have I. It’s in my fridge and it’s full of Guinness.’

      ‘You should take more exercise. It’ll do your temper good, too.’

      ‘There nothing wrong with my fucking temper.’

      ‘That’s not what it sounded like to me this morning.’

      ‘What are you going on about, Charlie?’

      ‘I thought we were a little bit on the grumpy side today.’

      ‘We? You mean me. Well, it’s all right for you sitting in your strategy meetings. I’m the one who has to handle all these fuckwits. Who needs them?’

      ‘That’s where you’re wrong, mate. They may be fuckwits, but they’re our fuckwits. And we’ve got fewer of them by the week. Who needs them? We need them. The advertisers need them. You need them, mate. You definitely need them.’

      ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ snapped Ricky, swivelling on his chair, his right arm colliding with his Rocktalk 99FM mug, sending stale, cold coffee cascading over the console.

      ‘Can we have a word?’

      ‘That’s what we are doing, isn’t it?’

      ‘I mean an official word. In my office.’

      ‘This is my office. Say what you’ve got to say.’

      ‘I’ve just got these, mate. Take a look.’ Charlie threw a stack of ring-bound A4 paper on the console. Ricky picked it up and studied it. Numbers, figures, graphs.

      ‘What is this?’

      ‘The RAJARs, mate. The official listening figures for the last quarter. We have been experiencing some very serious churn.’

      ‘Since when have you been running a dairy?’

      ‘You’re the one who’s always boasting about being a milkman. I’m afraid you’re not delivering.’

      ‘I’m here every day. I’ve never let you down.’

      ‘We’re not talking attendance here. You don’t get a silver star for turning up. This is what matters,’ said Charlie, pointing to the bottom line on the second sheet of paper.

      ‘And what does it say?’

      ‘It says that between nine and noon we are down almost thirty per cent. And who’s on between nine and noon?’

      ‘That’s only to be expected. I’m new to the station. People have got to get used to me. You have to figure that it will take time to win people round. Three months ago, before I started, this was a football station, with no fucking football. I’ve had to start from scratch.’

      ‘You can’t argue with a fall of thirty per cent.’

      ‘I can. Three months ago, the only listeners you had were a bunch of soccer-mad morons too stupid to find Radio Five.’

      ‘That’s as maybe, but there were thirty per cent more of them.’

      ‘Of course, that stands to reason. The kind of terrace plankton you had listening to you then are hardly going to stay tuned for adult-orientated rock interspersed by saloon-bar pontificating.’

      ‘I know that. But if you look at the figures more closely, you’ll find that the new audience is falling away, too. It’s down ten per cent over the past two weeks, according to our tracking.’

      ‘You picked the format. And you picked the presenter. Me.’

      ‘True. But I didn’t know you were going to go out of your way to piss off the listeners.’

      ‘I don’t.’

      ‘You do, mate.’

      ‘Don’t.’

      ‘What about George just now?’

      ‘The man was a fucking idiot. Turn the dogs loose on beggars? For fuck’s sake.’

      ‘A lot of people out there agree with him.’

      ‘A lot of people want to bring back hanging, drawing and quartering.’

      ‘Look, Ricky, all I’m saying is lighten up. Cut them some slack. Don’t be so short with them.’

      ‘Short is what I do.’

      ‘So you’ve got to do something a bit different. Look on the audience as our customers. Be nice to them once in a while. Play to their prejudices. Don’t sign off by dismissing them as a bunch of losers and lunatics. God knows what message that sends to the advertisers.’

      Ricky got up and pulled on his coat from the back of his chair. He picked up his bag and headed for the door. Charlie didn’t move.

      ‘Excuse me, Charlie. I don’t need this after a long week. I’m off to get pissed.’

      Charlie’s eyes hardened. His corporate smile faded.

      ‘I don’t think you’ve been listening to me, Ricky.’

      ‘Sure I have.’

      ‘Oh, I don’t think so.’

      ‘So what’s your point?’

      ‘My point is that this station, particularly in this time slot, is going down the dunny. I’m paying you a lot of money. Too much money. I’d never have given you so much if I’d known you’d already been kicked out of the Exposer.’

      ‘I wasn’t kicked out. I just, er, left.’

      ‘Don’t СКАЧАТЬ