White Christmas by Emma Lee-Potter Read Free Book Online Page B

to relaunch the whole station in
the New Year, rebrand it too. But here’s what I want you to do for starters. I
want you to ditch the boring suits. Go for bright colours, high fashion, jeans,
shorts – whatever you want, so long as it’s light-hearted. And young. And fun.
Get rid of the complicated weather charts and come up with graphics that are
bright, simple and clear. Make the weather simple and comprehensible. Don’t use
weather-speak…’
    Lizzie had to stop herself from snorting with derision at
his last point.
    ‘So basically you want me to present the weather like Hal
Benson at Last Ditch.’
    Dan beamed at her and banged the table so hard that the
delicate Wedgwood teacups jumped in their saucers.
    ‘Exactly. I knew you’d get it, Lizzie. Take a leaf out of
Hal Benson’s book and make the weather more human.’
    If Lizzie hadn’t been so outraged by his patronising
remarks, she would have laughed out loud. There she was, encouraging Hal to
make his weather reports more serious. And now she was being told to copy his
style.
    ‘And by the way, I’ve got plenty more ideas up my sleeve for
you,’ said Dan.
    This was turning into a complete nightmare, thought Lizzie.
What the hell was he going to suggest next?

 
     
     
    EIGHT
     
    Hal thought he was hallucinating when he switched on the TV
the next morning. It was eight a.m. and he was feeling slightly the worse for
wear. He’d gone out for a drink with Jamie Simons, Tasha’s boyfriend, the night
before and one beer had turned to four or five. He couldn’t remember exactly
how many he’d had – or how he’d got back to his flat. But even so, he couldn’t
believe what he was seeing right now.
    He blinked and refocused his eyes on the screen. Yep,
everything looked just the same. Lizzie Foster was presenting the Ace TV
weather, looking like she’d been styled by a five-year-old. Her tousled brown
hair stuck out at all angles, as if she’d just experienced an electric shock,
and she was wearing a… Hal couldn’t get his head round this at all. Lizzie
Foster was wearing a onesie. And it wasn’t just any old onesie either. It was a
Christmas onesie, covered in a riot of dancing reindeer, stars and snowflakes.
What was she playing at?
    The next moment he got even more of a surprise.
    ‘And now for today’s weather,’ said Lizzie. ‘I’m going to
give it to you straight. All you need to know is that it’s going to be wet,
wet, wet…’
    As Hal stared in disbelief, his mobile rang. It was Tim
Browne, the Last Ditch director who’d hired him for the weather job in the
first place. Hal hadn’t clapped eyes on him since his audition, though Tim had
sent him a couple of complimentary emails urging him to ‘keep up the good
work.’
    ‘Have you seen what bloody Ace TV have done?’ boomed Tim’s
voice down the line. His voice was so loud that Hal reckoned he could have
dispensed with a phone altogether.
    ‘Er, I’m a bit confused, Tim. I don’t really understand what
they’re doing. What’s going on?’
    Tim huffed and puffed for a second or two, then continued
his tirade.
    ‘They’re copying you, Henry. That’s what they’re doing.
They’ve clocked that our weather ratings have been on the up since we hired you
– and now they’re trying to nick your style for themselves. Bloody hell, they
haven’t been trying to poach you, have they?’  
    Hal racked his brains. He’d been so busy preparing for his
drama auditions that he’d ignored most of his texts and calls.
    ‘I’m not sure,’ said Hal. ‘I’ve had quite a few missed calls
though.’
    ‘Have you now?’ snapped Tim. ‘Look, I know you’re on the
afternoon shift today but it’s time we had a talk. I need to see you right now.
The battle is on and we need to plan our tactics. Have you got that?’
    Hal groaned inwardly. His head hurt and he still had loads
of lines to learn, but he didn’t have any choice. When Tim Browne shouted
‘jump,’ you jumped.
     
    An