Read Online Just Between Us by Cathy Kelly - Free Book Online

people were behind them. There was nobody at the actors’ table because, as soon as the meal was officially over, they’d all rushed off to get their photos taken and to work the room. The writers, on the other hand, insisted that they didn’t believe in networking and sat getting dug into the wine and trying to out-do each other bitching about rival shows. The truth was that nobody was interested in taking pictures of writers, which galled them. They wrote the words, they created the canvas on which the actors shone, so why did nobody know who they were?
    ‘Did you hear the one about the bimbo who wanted to be in movies?’ muttered Tommy from the depths of his glass, as Tara slipped into her place beside him. Tommy was one of the show’s long-timers. ‘She went to Hollywood and slept with a writer.’
    ‘Yeah, yeah,’ murmured the assembled group, who’d heard it all before.
    Isadora, who’d moved so she had a better view of the stage, was now sitting on Tara’s other side. Isadora was another one of the storyline editors, writers who shaped the way the show developed and came up with long-range plotlines. She and Tara worked closely together and were great friends.
    ‘You look nice,’ said Isadora. ‘Have you been beautifying yourself for your acceptance speech?’
    Tara laughed. ‘Sherry did it. It’s good, isn’t it?’
    ‘Very.’ Isadora was impressed. ‘Can she do something for me? I need emergency work. All this red wine has my face looking like blue cheese.’
    ‘Crumbly?’ inquired Tommy.
    ‘No, heavily veined,’ Isadora replied tartly. ‘But still, my veins aren’t half as bad as yours, sweetie.’
    ‘Miaow,’ Tommy retorted.
    The lights went down and there was a frantic dash as people raced back to their seats. The babble of conversation went down to a low hum while the audience waited for the show to begin.
    Watching the monitors to the side of the stage, Tara and Isadora could see what the cameras saw. The lenses panned across the room, coming to rest on the big male stars of the day and on the most beautiful of the women, all of whom had nearly killed themselves to wear the most talked about gown of the evening. Slit-to-the-navel, slit-to-the-thigh and slit-in-both-directions dresses were par for the course at these events. The more famous stars didn’t bare as much, while the wannabes craved attention and tended to look as if they hadn’t enough money to pay for a whole dress.
    ‘Leather is big this year,’ Isadora commented, glancing around. ‘Look at that woman from that kids’ Saturday morning show. That’s not a dress; that’s a python-skin bikini with a see-through overdress.’
    ‘I dunno why they call it an overdress,’ muttered Tommy. ‘Doesn’t look like overdressing to me.’
    ‘She’d better be careful,’ Isadora continued. ‘She won’t be the darling of the exhausted early morning mums and dads if she wears that type of hot little outfit. They want blue jeans, wacky sweaters, spiky hair and overall purity for their Saturday morning televisual babysitters.’
    Silence reigned for a brief moment until the awards’ theme music blasted out over the sound system and the show began. Finally, the nerves began to get to Tara. This was an important evening for her. She’d been working on National Hospital for three years and in April, she’d been promoted to storyline editor. The youngest person ever to get the job, Tara had had a lot to prove. But she’d done it. Thanks in no small part to her input, the scripts since then had beenratings grabbers. The critics loved the show, the production company loved the show, now, it was time to see if the people who gave out the prestigious Soap of the Year award loved it too. They’d been nominated for the past three years but had been narrowly beaten by Ardmore Grove, their nearest rival, every time. If only tonight was the night to claim the prize for National Hospital. Tara felt sick with the anxiety of it