Over The Moon

Continuing Chapters: Drama and chaos are the norm at Dogwood Studios, where new secretary Valerie suddenly finds herself behind the microphone rather than the desk

Continuing chapters of our new serial

“Don’t you WORRY you’re leaving your LEADING LADY days a bit LATE?”

Valerie!” Harry Crondell’s upper-crust accent rang off the crystal chandelier as he pelted up the grand staircase of Dogwood House.

Valerie Maddox was in Harry’s office, working to impose order on the avalanche of paperwork that had inundated the wood-panelled room in the weeks since his last secretary left.

She didn’t know the first thing about the workings of a television studio, but relished the chance to put her secretarial training to good use. The opportunity to impress her gorgeous new boss was another motivator, of course!

“Soon have this place ship-shape!” she told Captain Stormy, Bobby Joe and Dr Jones, the three string-puppet stars of MoonBase that watched her with disconcertingly realistic eyes from the sunny window sill.

Popping a MoonBase sweet cigarette between her lips, Valerie carried a stack of newly arrived fan mail to her desk.

Most of it was from little boys wanting a signed photo of Bobby Joe, but there were a surprising number of marriage proposals for Sabrina Styles, who provided the sexy voice of Dr Jones – especially considering her onscreen character was a puppet!

Valerie smiled fondly at the thought of the unexpected friend she’d made in Sabrina. The cream cashmere roll neck and stylish slacks Sabrina had lent her at least made her look at home in the rarefied world she found herself in – and stopped her feeling completely out her depth.

“Valerie!” The sound of Harry’s voice made her heart pound like the trammel of his approaching shoes. She blushed at the memory of how intoxicated she’d been in the pub last night. Not from her single gin and tonic, but the hypnotic focus of Harry’s eyes and smile as he tried to make her feel part of her new circle of actors and puppet makers.

He burst through the door and she gave a little start at the sight of his elegantly tailored figure. The blush of exertion and slight dishevelment of his wavy brown hair made his youthful features especially cute, she thought.

Valerie almost wished they didn’t. He was supposed to be her boss. She shouldn’t be swooning like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

“Have you had a call from Heather, or Heidi, or Helen, or whatever her name is?” Harry demanded. “The guest actress – she hasn’t turned up!”

“No.” Valerie dumped the fan mail on her desk. “Shall I call the agency?”

“Aagh!” Harry punched his temple with the heel of his hand. “My last secretary was supposed to book her. She must have forgotten!”

Harry headed back to the corridor, then spun round and gave her a look of such keen interest that it sent a bolt of electricity through her. Even more stunning was what he said next. “You’ll have to do it!” “Me?” Valerie squeaked. “Chop, chop! Everyone’s waiting!” Harry dashed off and she had no choice but to run after him, slowed only by the platform shoes Sabrina had loaned her.

At the top of the grand staircase, they met the imposingly tall, willowy figure of Lady Petunia.

“Harry, dear, would you mind popping out to get me –”

“Not now, Mother!” Harry flew down the stairs two at a time.

“Ah, Valerie, isn’t it?” The aristocrat tried to halt the secretary.

“Valerie’s busy, too!” Harry called back. “If you want something from the shops you’ll have to go out and get it.”

“Well, really!” Petunia put her fists on the sharp bones of her hips. “It was not I who laid off the chauffeur, you know!”

At the foot of the stairs, Harry jumped over a large model moon buggy as it came whizzing loudly across the entrance hall. Valerie just managed to sidestep another fast-moving lunar vehicle, and the two black-clad young men chasing the outsize toys with radio-control handsets.

“…so I told him, Julian,” one of them declared camply, “If there’s another explosion like that I’m getting a job on BillAndBen!”

“Do any drama at school?” Harry grinned over his shoulder.

“Not since I was six!” Valerie said breathlessly. “I was a sheep in a Nativity play. I only had to say ‘Baa!’”

“I’m sure it will come back to you!” He led her into a room with closed

shutters and four microphone stands arranged in a semi-circle. A snooker table had been pushed into a corner.

“Valerie, darling! I’m so glad the clothes fit.” Sabrina rose from an armchair to hug her.

“They’re beautiful. Thanks so much for lending them to me.”

“Oh, you can keep them,” the slinky redhead breezed.

“I couldn’t!” Valerie protested. “This jumper’s from Biba!” “Keep it, it suits you.” “Well, thanks!” Valerie was stunned. George L’Amore, the square-jawed, silver-haired actor who voiced Captain Stormy, eyed Valerie appreciatively.

“Quite right. Those clothes are far more suited to a woman Valerie’s age.”

“Says the man whose starring roles were all linked to the war effort.” Sabrina glared at him.

“At least I had my starring roles. Don’t you ever worry that you’re leaving your leading lady days a bit late?”

“Don’t you two start again.” Tony, the blond drama school graduate who played Bobby Joe, rolled his eyes.

“Mr L’Amore’s a huge star,” Tony assured Valerie. “HoneymoonStreet, TheCatfordCaper… I loved those films when I was a boy.”

“Thanks for the trip down Memory Lane, Bobby Joe,” L’Amore said in the American voice of his puppet character.

“I never dreamed that one day I’d be working with you,” Tony gushed.

“And I never thought I’d end up in a puppet show,” L’Amore muttered.

“OK, down to a dull roar, everyone,” said Harry, from the recording console. “Valerie will be helping us out. Can someone give her a script?”

“Have mine.” Sabrina handed her a sheaf of paper. “I’ll share Tony’s.”

The older actress wiggled up to Tony who looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“You could always share mine and cuddle up to me, Sabrina,” L’Amore said.

“The last time anyone did that was probably during the blackout,” Sabrina snapped back.

“Right, Scene Three.” Harry donned headphones. “You’ve touched down in a wrecked alien city and found a young girl cowering in the rubble. That’s you, Valerie. Tape rolling!”

As Harry pointed a commanding finger at her, Valerie realised there was no backing out. Trying to focus on the script fluttering in her hand, she leaned towards the microphone and croaked, “W-who are you? W-where have you come from?”

And cut!” Harry clicked off the tape with a flourish. “That was brilliant, Valerie! You really sounded frightened and confused.”

“That’s because I was!” Valerie squeaked. Still, she was surprised how much she’d enjoyed herself.

With only a few lines to say, she’d found herself swept up in the story. It astonished her how much drama, humour and pathos Harry put into the script of what she’d assumed was a kids’ show. He truly had an incredible mind.

It was also fun watching Sabrina play a woman hopelessly infatuated with Captain Stormy, when she clearly hated L’Amore in real life!

“Yes, for a first-timer that really was rather good, Valerie,” L’Amore purred. “I could give you some private lessons if you like.”

“You’re not still using that old line?” Sabrina glared at him.

Valerie barely heard the bickering.

Her eyes locked to Harry’s, she basked in his undisguised admiration and the feeling that they were the only two people in the room.

Ithought you’d at least stay the whole weekend,” Hetty Maddox protested as Valerie bumped down the narrow stairs with her suitcase. After the grandeur of Dogwood, her mother’s terraced house felt tiny.

“I want to get back for an early night so I’m fresh for work tomorrow.” Valerie dumped the case next to two others.

“Are you sure it’s not some boy you’re rushing back to?” “Of course it isn’t!” Valerie flushed and wished she hadn’t snapped so loudly. The guilty truth was that she’d been thinking about Harry all the time she’d been home. His smile. His energy. Even his forgetfulness.

Maybe especially his forgetfulness – that adorable hint of the lost little boy that she sometimes glimpsed behind his suave exterior.

It was madness to think there could ever be anything romantic between them, but she felt needed by him – as a secretary at least.

“I’m sorry, Valerie.” Her mother’s brow creased with worry. “I just wasn’t expecting you to leave home so suddenly. I thought you’d get a nice local job –”

“And marry a nice local man?” Valerie challenged.

She knew her mother disapproved of the groovy red and white check minidress Sabrina had given her, and her “fancy new friends” as her mum had labelled them. Her mum had happy memories of life in service and believed firmly that people should know their place.

However Valerie was nineteen. Was she supposed to feel guilty for wanting more from life than her grey provincial hometown had to offer?

It was 1966, women had new opportunities – and Valerie was determined they wouldn’t pass her by.

A honk announced the arrival of her minicab to the station. Did taking cabs count as getting above herself in her mother’s book, she wondered?

“I’ve got to go.” She gave her mum an awkward hug and peck on the cheek. “Just… be careful,” her mum warned. “I will,” Valerie promised.

Lugging her cases down the path, she tried not to feel guilty about leaving her mother alone. Hetty’s bereft face made that far from easy.

Two weeks later, Harry was lying flat on his back on his desk in waistcoat and shirt sleeves, head propped on a pile of scripts, gazing at the moon in search of inspiration.

Valerie sat on a chair by the desk, legs crossed in a dogtooth dress, a notepad on her knee like a psychiatrist.

“Right, Scene Four,” Harry dictated. “They’vetoucheddownonanalien planetand… oh, this is rubbish, Valerie!” He pressed his fingers to his temples. “We need the formula and the catchphrases because the kids like repetition. And explosions of course! But we’re going round in circles. We need something new.” He rolled towards her and propped himself up on one elbow.

Valerie caught her breath at the closeness of his face. A lock of his swept back wavy brown hair flopped forward as if he’d just lifted his head from a pillow.

“The thing to remember,” he stared levelly into her eyes, “is that it’s a family show. The kids identify with Bobby Joe because he’s young and impulsive. The mums fancy L’Amore, because they remember him from their teens. The dads tune in for sexy Dr Jones. How can we keep that balance and still give them something different?” “How about a new character?” “Good idea.” Harry sat up. “I was thinking about a sidekick for Bobby Joe. But no, that’s just doubling up.”

Valerie gazed at him, admiring his looks, but even more so his passion for the show. At first she’d been wary of the rumours about Harry’s late nights with his secretaries, but now she knew the whispers were nonsense. There simply weren’t enough daylight hours to contain his creativity.

His previous assistants may have balked at taking dictation past midnight, but Valerie felt privileged to share these moments when he searched his soul.

It made her feel part of his life – even if she secretly wished he did show more interest in his secretary than his puppets. “How about a woman?” she suggested. “Another love interest for Bobby Joe?” “No, a modern woman!” Valerie blurted. “One who does more than be rescued or moon after Bobby Joe. A woman who pilots a ship or something. Someone the girls can cheer for!”

“The girls, of course!” Harry leaped up, eyes blazing. “That’s brilliant! A strong female lead for the quarter of the audience we’re not catering to!

“A woman starship captain…” He rubbed his chin as he paced. “An Amazon among the stars…”

“If it’s not too silly.” Valerie backpedalled anxiously.

“No, first thought, best thought!” Harry snapped his fingers and beamed. “Imagine Lunar Fleet putting a woman in charge of Captain Stormy – he’d hate it!” “So will L’Amore,” Valerie fretted. “That’s why the sparks will fly!” Harry rounded on her. “Bobby Joe can have a crush on her. She’ll inspire Dr Jones to be more liberated. This character will revolutionise the show!”

“But don’t you think it’s too farfetched?” Valerie asked. “I mean, do you think the world’s ready for…”

“A woman at the top?” Harry’s eyes sparkled. “Well, it’s set in 2017 – who knows what will happen by then? I can see her puppet now. Glossy brown

hair, beautiful eyes, shimmery silver space suit… and I know just the actress who can play her.” “Sabrina?” Valerie ventured. “No. You!” “Me?” Valerie gave a start. “Val Venus – Siren of the Solar System! You’re perfect.”

Valerie melted under his gaze, until he added sheepishly, “Besides that, we can’t afford anyone else.”

L’Amore barely had to act. “A woman, in charge of a spaceship? Let’s hope she doesn’t back into an asteroid, eh, Bobby Joe?”

“Get used to it, Captain!” Valerie snapped into her microphone. “Lunar Fleet has told me to get this rust bucket shipshape and there are going to be some changes around here. Bobby Joe, set course for Jupiter!” “Yes ma’am!” Tony saluted. “Go and clean up the mess in the mess, Captain,” Valerie went on. “And while you’re there, bring me a cup of Venusian tea. Running a starship is thirsty work.”

“Yes… ma’am,” L’Amore said through gritted teeth.

“Number one in the ratings second week running!” Harry crowed at the end-of-week cast meeting. “The reviews are brilliant, and look at this!”

With a conjuror’s flourish, he slapped a copy of TV Times onto his desk. The cover was a picture of the brunette Val Venus puppet above the headline, Out of this world! Onset with the sexy new star pulling the string sat Moon Base!

Valerie gazed in wonder at the photograph of her plastic persona. She still wasn’t used to seeing the mini-her on TV and wondered how a caricature of her face could look more beautiful than she felt.

Did Val’s exaggerated glamour reflect the way Harry saw her?

“Does this mean we’ll get another season?” asked L’Amore.

“If the Yanks buy the show,” Harry hedged. “But in the meantime, the Val Venus dolls will be in the shops on Monday, and the orders are out of this galaxy. We’re going to make a fortune! You’re on a fif – er, forty per cent cut, of course, Valerie.” “I am?” Valerie gaped at him. “What?” L’Amore and Sabrina protested in unison. “How come we’ve never had a share of merchandise?”

“Well – you’re just actors, aren’t you?” Harry shrugged guiltily. “Whereas Valerie’s a co-creator!”

Valerie started to glow in his proud gaze, then felt the dagger glares of the others, even Sabrina – and wished the ground would swallow her instead.

“Come on, no long faces.” Harry tried to defuse the tension. “If it wasn’t for Valerie we’d be lucky if we were still in the Top Ten.”

“Harry’s right, Val.” Sabrina’s smile returned. She hugged Valerie and pecked her cheek. “We’re all really proud of you.”

“Thanks, Sab.” Valerie squeezed the actress’ hand gratefully, glad she hadn’t lost her friendship.

“This calls for a celebration,” Harry declared. “Dinner at the Savoy, all of you – my treat! I’ll get changed and meet you downstairs.”

“The Savoy?” Valerie gasped. “What should I wear?”

“A little present I put in your room as a thank you for all your hard work,” said Harry. “In fact, I’m thinking of making you a partner in the firm. I have a new series in mind and this time I want your input right from the beginning.” “I hope you’ll still talk to us,” said Tony. “She’s like Val Venus come to life,” muttered L’Amore.

Her head spinning from the bombshell news of a merchandise share – let alone the possible partnership, which was too big to take in – Valerie gazed in fresh shock at the confection of black silk and lace that she found in a tissue-lined box on her bed.

She wriggled into the dress and it fitted like a second skin. Harry must have got her size from Sabrina – the two women could swap clothes like twins.

A couple of months ago, receiving such a gift from a man who wanted to take her to the Savoy would have terrified Valerie. But working at Dogwood had changed her. The clothes Sabrina continued to give her with embarrassing regularity had acclimatised her to expensive things, and Harry’s faith in her had made her believe she deserved them.

As she eyed her new dress in her bedroom mirror, she dared to wonder if Harry was finally seeing her as more than an employee.

Stepping elegantly down the grand staircase, Valerie felt like a queen. The others were waiting at the bottom, but the only one she saw was Harry, resplendent in a tuxedo and bow tie.

“What an entrance,” he beamed. “We’ll have to get you in a live action show!” He held out his hand, and Valerie reached to take it.

Before their fingers could touch, the front door banged open. Lady Petunia stormed in brandishing an evening paper.

“Harry, how could you do this to the family name? And as for you…!”

Petunia shook as she glared, redfaced with fury, at Valerie. “What is it?” Harry demanded. Petunia whacked him in the chest with her paper. He unfurled it in horror.

Over his shoulder, Sabrina read the headline aloud .“Val Venus affair with TV puppet boss!”

At his other shoulder, L’Amore read out the subheading. “It’s how she got the job, says bitter co-star .”

Next week: Will a tragedy shut down the the MoonBase studios? Don’t miss the exciting conclusion.