Best Kept Secret (The Clifton Chronicles, #3)(16)

Harry could feel his heartbeat rising by the second.

‘All you have to do is find any excuse to mention Nothing Ventured,’ she added as the limousine drew up outside the NBC studios at the Rockefeller Center.

Harry couldn’t believe the sight that greeted him when he stepped out on to the pavement. The narrow entrance that led to the front of the building had been fenced off and was crammed on both sides with screaming fans. As Harry made his way through the crowds of expectant onlookers, he didn’t need to be told that 90 per cent of them had come to see Clark Gable, 9 per cent Mel Blanc, and possibly 1 per cent . . .

‘Who’s he?’ someone shouted as Harry hurried past.

Perhaps not even 1 per cent.

Once he was safely inside the building, a floor walker escorted him to the green room and briefed him on timings.

‘Mr Gable will be on at seven forty. Mel Blanc will follow him at seven fifty, and we’re hoping to get you on by seven fifty-five in the run-up to the news.’

‘Thank you,’ said Harry as he took a seat and tried to compose himself.

Mel Blanc bounced into the green room at 7.30, and looked at Harry as if he was expecting to be asked for an autograph. Mr Gable, accompanied by his entourage, followed a few moments later. Harry was surprised to see the screen idol dressed in a dinner jacket and carrying a glass of whisky. Gable explained to Mel Blanc that it wasn’t an early morning drink, because he hadn’t been to bed. Laughter followed him as he was whisked away, and Harry was left alone with Mel.

‘Listen carefully to Gable,’ said Mel as he sat down next to Harry. ‘The minute the red light goes on, no one, including the studio audience, will realize he’s had anything to drink but orange juice, and by the time he comes off, everyone will want to see his new movie.’

Mel turned out to be right. Gable was the ultimate professional, and the title of his new film got a mention at least every thirty seconds. And although Harry had read somewhere that he and Miss Turner couldn’t stand each other, Gable was so gracious about his co-star that even the most cynical listener would have been convinced they were bosom pals. Only Natalie didn’t look pleased, because Gable overran his slot by forty-two seconds.

During the ad break, Mel was escorted up to the studio. Harry learnt a great deal from Mel’s performance, during which Sylvester, Tweety Pie and Bugs Bunny were all given an outing. But the thing that most impressed him was that when Matt Jacobs asked what was clearly the final question, Mel just went on talking, and stole another thirty-seven seconds of his precious time.

During the next ad break, it was Harry’s turn to be led up to the guillotine, where he knew his head was about to be removed. He sat down opposite his host and smiled nervously. Jacobs was studying the inside flap of a copy of Nothing Ventured that looked as if it had never been opened before. He glanced up and returned Harry’s smile.

‘When the red light goes on, you’ll be on the air,’ was all he said before turning to the first page. Harry checked the second hand of the studio clock: four minutes to eight. He listened to an advertisement for Nescafé, as Jacobs scribbled down a couple of notes on a pad in front of him. The ad ended with a familiar jingle, and the red light went on. Harry’s mind went blank, and he wished he was at home having lunch with Emma, even facing a thousand Germans at Clemenceau ridge, rather than 11 million Americans enjoying their breakfast.

‘Good morning,’ said Jacobs into his microphone, ‘and what a morning it’s been. First Gable, then Mel, and we end this hour of the breakfast show with a special guest from Great Britain, Harry’ – he quickly checked the book’s cover – ‘Clifton. Now, before we talk about your new book, Harry, can I confirm that the last time you set foot in America you were arrested for murder?’

‘Yes, but it was all a misunderstanding,’ spluttered Harry.

‘That’s what they all say,’ said Jacobs with a disconcerting laugh. ‘But what my eleven million listeners will want to know is, while you’re here, will you be getting together with some of your old convict buddies?’

‘No, that’s not the reason I’m in America,’ began Harry. ‘I’ve written a—’

‘So Harry, tell me about your second impression of America.’

‘It’s a great country,’ said Harry. ‘New Yorkers have made me feel so welcome, and—’

‘Even the cab drivers?’

‘Even the cab drivers,’ repeated Harry, ‘and this morning I got to meet Clark Gable.’

‘Is Gable big in England?’ asked Matt.

‘Oh yes, he’s very popular, as is Miss Turner. In fact I can’t wait to see their new film.’

‘We call them movies over here, Harry, but what the hell.’ Jacobs paused, glanced up at the second hand on the clock, and said, ‘Harry, it’s been great having you on the show, and good luck with your new book. After a few words from our sponsors, we’ll return at the top of the hour with the eight o’clock news. But from me, Matt Jacobs, it’s goodbye, and have a great day.’

The red light went off.

Jacobs stood up, shook hands with Harry and said, ‘Sorry we didn’t get more time to talk about your book. Loved the cover.’



Emma sipped her morning coffee before opening the letter.