Will Marlowe or Kit Shakespeare? (literary quiz show) 13,591,203
One More Chance to See! (reverse extinction show) 2,321,820
Goliath Cable Channel (1 to 32)
Whose Lie Is It Anyway? (corporate comedy quiz show) 428
Cots to Coffins: Goliath. All You'll Ever Need (docuganda) 9 (disputed)
Neanderthal Network 4
Power Tool Club Live (routers and power planer edition) 9,032
Jackanory Gold (Jane Eyre edition) 7,219
WARWICK FRIDGE – The Ratings War
I didn't ask to be a celebrity. I never wanted to appear on The Adrian Lush Show. And let's get one thing
straight right now – the world would have to be hurtling towards imminent destruction before I'd agree to
anything as dopey as The Thursday Next Workout Video.
The publicity surrounding the successful rebookment of Jane Eyre was fun to begin with but rapidly grew
wearisome. I happily posed for photocalls, agreed to newspaper interviews, hesitantly appeared on Desert
Island Smells and was thankfully excused the embarrassment of Celebrity Name That Fruit! The public,
ever fascinated by celebrity, had wanted to know everything about me following my excursion within the
pages of Jane Eyre, and since the Special Operations Network have a PR record on a par with that of
Vlad the Impaler, the top brass thought it would be a good wheeze to use me to boost their flagging
popularity. I dutifully toured all points of the globe doing signings, library openings, talks and interviews.
The same questions, the same SpecOps-approved answers. Supermarket openings, literary dinners, offers
of book deals. I even met the actress Lola Vavoom, who said that she would simply adore to play me if
there were a film. It was tiring, but more than that – it was dull. For the first time in my career at the
Literary Detectives I actually missed authenticating Milton.
I'd taken a week's leave as soon as my tour ended so Landen and I could devote some time to married life.
I moved all my stuff to his house, rearranged his furniture, added my books to his and introduced my
dodo, Pickwick, to his new home. Landen and I ceremoniously partitioned the bedroom closet space,
decided to share the sock drawer, then had an argument over who was to sleep on the wall side of the
bed. We had long and wonderfully pointless conversations about nothing in particular, walked Pickwick
in the park, went out to dinner, stayed in for dinner, stared at each other a lot and slept in late every
morning. It was wonderful.
On the fourth day of my leave, just between lunch with Landen's mum and Pickwick's notable first fight
with the neighbour's cat, I got a call from Cordelia Flakk. She was the senior SpecOps PR agent here in
Swindon and she told me that Adrian Lush wanted me on his show. I wasn't mad keen on the idea – or the
show. But there was an upside. The Adrian Lush Show went out live and Flakk assured me that this would
be a 'no holds barred' interview, something that held a great deal of appeal. Despite my many
appearances, the true story about Jane Eyre was yet to be told – and I had been wanting to drop the
Goliath Corporation in it for quite a while. Flakk's assurance that this would finally be the end of the
press junket clinched my decision. Adrian Lush it would be.
I travelled up to the Network Toad studios a few days later on my own; Landen had a deadline looming
and needed to get his head down. But I wasn't alone for long. As soon as I stepped into the large entrance
lobby a milk-curdling shade of green strode purposefully towards me
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