The beautiful male presenter fronting the daily celebrity news program Sidewalk Stars was
impressed by Meghan's response.
"Ooooohhhhhweee!" he said, showing gleaming teeth. "Snapback!"
"Yowllll!" said the beautiful female presenter, also showing gleaming teeth. "Imagine
Connie Leighton riding a bicycle between gigs."
They showed a brief animated sequence of a cartoon of Leighton riding a bicycle.
"But maybe Clarise Chalmers has a point," said the male presenter. "It doesn't help much
just to talk about emissions."
The next day, trying to forget that he had babbled at a famous actress – at least he thought he
had babbled – Will was back earning his bread and butter.
He had been sent a picture of what looked to him to be a run-down timber frame house in a
doubtful neighbourhood with a wild-looking front garden and sighed.
"This renovators delight has two bedrooms, one bathroom and a natural garden," he wrote,
then paused to look at the interior shots of a dingy kitchen and sinister-looking living room. "With
an interior of character…"
His mobile rang. A private number. He didn't know anyone who bothered to keep their
number private but then thought that it was probably just a new type of scam call.
"Hello, this is Will Moorland."
"Will, this is Clarise Chalmers from last night."
"Whoa! Okay." Will was shocked.
"Mia got your number for me, and I'll say first that you seem nice but you're not my type.
Anyway, I have a boyfriend."
"Okaaaay," said Will. "Ms Chalmers, I get that romantically I am but mud on the underside
of your fashionable high heels…"
"I didn't mean it like that," said Clarise.
"…Just exaggerating for effect, Ms Chalmers. Guys do that. But women not interested in me
usually don't call me in the first place, or they ignore my calls then send a text saying they are sorry
they haven't got back to me but they've been so busy. That's when I get the hint and stop calling.
Was there a reason you called to tell me you're not interested?"
"Oh yes, what I want to know is what do I do now?"
"Um – I'm still at a loss Ms Chalmers," said Will. "Make another blockbuster film, marry a
billionaire and have perfect children. I'm not sure I can help you much in any of that."
"What I mean is I took your advice last night and told reporters staking out the party that
Connie Leighton should trade her jet in for a bicycle and it worked."
"Oh right." Will was astonished. "Well, it was just an off the cuff thought, Ms Chalmers.
Don't you have high powered consultants who advise you on PR and your public profile and all
that?"
"I do, they just told me to also talk about the environment. What I want to know is what do
you think I should do next."
"I see... After babbling at you last night I thought it might be more likely I'd be arrested than
consulted. I'd have to think."
"How did you know what to say, or how to respond when they asked more questions?"
"I worked as a journalist for maybe three years back East," said Will. "I was never anywhere
near the celebrity end and never in public relations, but reporters are reporters anywhere, I guess.
Now that I think about it, I can at least ask what you want to achieve." Will remembered a public
relations person saying that he asked this of a client and thought that it sounded as if he knew what
he was talking about. "I mean, you don't need to raise your profile, do you? More fans just means
more stalkers."
"I guess not," said Clarise.
"Then, maybe, change your image somehow, continue your feud with Connie Leighton…"
"I don't want to feud with anyone," said Clarise. "She started this climate thing. I just want
to get out in front of her on that, I guess, make it go away. Maybe I could soften my image. The
Hollywood bad girl thing has its uses, but it could be softened."
"Okay, I think I see," said Will. He could not believe he was discussing Clarise Chalmer's
public profile with the star herself. "You've told this to your high powered public relations
agency?"
"I did. They said the bad girl image was valuable and I should have some more wild
parties."
"I can see their point," said Will. "The public is more likely to buy tickets to films with bad
girls in them, but you don't want to lose the image altogether you just want to show you have a
good side."
"Yes, that's it," said Clarise.
"And they didn't listen – or just talked you out of it?"
"Yep. All sorts of soft words to talk the diva down."
"Do you call yourself a diva often?" Will thought that Clarise Chambers was smart and
determined, even if she had trouble getting her own way with fee-hungry consultants. To continue
the analogy with old stars, as well as Marilyn Munroe and Grace Kelly, she had a touch of Bette
Davis.
Clarise giggled softly. "Sometimes, but this time it didn't help as they didn't do what I
wanted – they did what they wanted so they could charge more fees."
"One thought that has occurred to me, if you want to do this softening image thing, is to
steer clear of the climate debate altogether – every person and their pet talks about climate – and go
in for charity."
"Hmmm! What do you suggest?"
"Well, wasn't there a children's hospital in a depressed area that needed money? I thought I
saw it mentioned somewhere. I'll have to look it up. No one can argue with charity work for a
children's hospital."
"What, you want me to help out in the canteen?"
"No, no, they need money for equipment and renovations," Will said. "Hold a benefit. A
fund raising dinner dance thing. Charge a lot for tickets and give the profits to the hospital.
Politicians and charities do fund raisers all the time. Now that I think of it involve Connie Leighton
as well."
"I'm doing this because she started attacking me."
"It makes for a better story. Two entertainment bad girls forget their feud and band together
to raise money for a children's hospital – a Bad Girls Benefit. Also, she can't attack you while it's
going on and she can't say anything much afterwards, and it helps with her image as well. You and
Leighton agree to circulate and meet people on the night, and that should sell tickets. A lot of
people will pay good money to just be in the same room with famous bad girls and, let's not forget,
the children's hospital gets money to buy equipment. Lots of winners and no losers that I can see."
"Hmmm! I want you to come and see me today but for business. It's not a social or romantic
invitation."
"Ms Chalmers, I get it, you're not interested," said Will. "Keep on harping on that point and
you'll hurt my feelings. I've got a couple of things to finish up here. After lunch?"
The house on the edge of the prime Beverley Hills district was not big enough to be
considered a mansion, but it was large enough and had a very big door – Will, could never get over
the size of the doors in California – which was opened by an elderly housekeeper. She led the way
to the house's ground floor study which Clarise Chalmers used as an office when not on set. She
was dressed in jeans and a blue canvas shirt, top buttons artfully undone, with only touches of
make-up – not that she needed much make up to be beautiful. Will, who had dressed in California
casual of a blazer and jeans with a white tee shirt, in fact the only clean shirt in the house when he
got dressed, tried not to do more than glance at the hint of soft cleavage in a byplay that the star
noted with quiet amusement. She was well used to the ways of men looking at her and appreciated
that the writer was working hard to be polite. That was important for what she had in mind for Will.
His next move, however, she did not expect.
"That's a big pool for a backyard!" exclaimed Will, going to the study window. The window
looked onto a back patio with chairs and a table and then a long, straight pool with a spa attachment
about half way along its length. A few paces beyond the pool a high stone wall kept out the
voyeurs, not to mention the paparazzi. The only sign of life was an elderly ginger cat sunning itself
on one of the patio chairs.
"That's twenty-five metres, isn't it?"
"I suppose," said Clarise. "I was told lap pool when I bought this place."
"That's twenty-five metres," said Will, nodding. "I'm impressed."
"I'm glad my pool impresses you, Will," said Clarise, amused. "Please sit."
"Oh right, yes, pardon me," said Will, sitting. The star had the study set up like an office so
that she sat behind the desk in one corner. "You summoned me, Ms Chalmers."
"Glad you could come in on a Sunday."
"If a screen goddess summons a mere mortal, Ms Chalmers, the mere mortal should come.
Bad things happen to those who defy the gods. Just look at the super hero movies."
"Doubt that I'm a goddess," she said, rolling her eyes. "I eat and go to the bathroom like
everyone else, and I will grow old. I also have to think about my public profile, so I want to hear
more about this benefit."
"Not much more to add to what I told you on the phone," said Will. "The place I was
thinking of is the Haddenbach Children's Hospital in South LA. It's a public institution and
cutbacks have hurt. They've launched an appeal for funds to fix real problems with the buildings
and buy equipment and stuff. The first step would be to contact the administrators and see if they
want to endorse a benefit. Then contact Connie Leighton to see if she wants to be in it, which may
be difficult if she's sore over the crack about trading her jet for a bicycle. You market this event
using your social media; see if that Sidewalk Stars show will run an item. Set up a website to sell
the highly priced tickets, that is after you've decided how much to charge which means finding a
venue and caterers and security and, well, a billion other issues which have to be sorted out."
"Sounds like a lot of work," said Clarise. "How do you know about this stuff, anyway?"
"My parents, my mother in particular, organise an annual, fund-raising benefit for one of the
hospitals where I came from."
"Where is that, Will?"
"Albany, state capital of New York. It's West of the Big Apple itself."
"How come you're out here?"
"It's a long, sad story concerning a girl."
"Sad? Did she die?"
"No, she's fine as far as I know. The story is sad from my point of view."
Clarise laughed again. "You make no effort at all to sell yourself do you, Will. Look, I want
to help out your sad story if I can by offering you work in organising this benefit."
"Really?" said Will. "I never said I actually organised one, I just sort of know from my
parents some of the ins and outs."
"Will, you're trying to talk yourself out of a job," she said. "I intend to make it a per day
thing and if it's not working out I'll fire you, no hard feelings."
"Okay, and I can quit at any time, no hard feelings. What sort of per day amount are you
going to pay the lowest of the low?"
"You've just been talking yourself down Will, and this is on a trial basis. What do you think
would get you in here?"
Will looked at the pool and back at Clarise. "Is it just about the event, assuming it goes
ahead?"
"Come to think of it, no," she said. "I liked what you said about the social media stuff. Take
it over and do what you said. Keep the fans happy. The people I have at the moment want to tell me
about the responses I'm getting on X, and I'm not sure I care."
"In fact, I'd advise you to ignore comments on X altogether," Will said. "The service has its
place and its uses but the people who offer un-asked for comments on it are the likes of crazed
retirees and hard line activists. You don't try to reason with those guys and you don't pay them any
mind."
"Huh!" said Clarise. "That sounds good to me. Get rid of the people doing it at the moment
and then organise all the social media so that it communicates to my fans."
"Enough comment about your social life and projects to keep them happy, but otherwise you
don't want to know."
"Yeah, or pay big fees," said Clarise.
"What about t…" Will almost said two hundred and then remembered his experience with
Hap last night. "Three hundred and use of the pool once a day."
"Two hundred, and you can use the pool any time if I'm not using it for a shoot," said
Clarise. "Why are you so interested in the pool?"
"I like to swim every day. Split the difference. Two fifty and is there some place I can
shower."