Humiliation

Humiliation.

“You are a complete and utter waste of a human being, look at you, you disgust me. In fact” He paused dramatically for effect and turned to number three with his practised expression of disgust portrayed for the camera, “I can’t go any further with you. We’re finished. I’d like you to leave my stage right now.”

“Three… two… one… and …cut!

That was another one in the bag. Gordon Cross, or Golden Gord as the press had christened him in reference to his squeaky clean image and holier than thou attitude, left the studio to be driven home.

He was in the car when his private phone rang. He expected that it was Jessie wanting to know when he’d be home and if he could pick something up on his way in. Hannah seemed to go through an extraordinary amount of nappies for one so small and then there was Verity and all the stuff she needed for school..

“Hello.”

“Hello Gordon,” The voice on the phone was female, elderly and unfamiliar.

“Who is this?” he snapped.

“Oh just a fan of your show, you know an interested party, so to speak.” He could hear something squealing in the background.

He was angry now, how had this leak happened? “How did you get this number? This is a private line.”

“Oh I know that. Verity gave it to me. She wants to speak to you. She’s getting a little bit concerned.”

He heard a scuffle and then Verity came on the phone, she uttered a single word but it was enough for him to know that she was in trouble. “Daddy!”

It sounded as though the phone had been taken from her. The old woman was back on the line again. “Before we go any further dear, I think we ought to be a little bit more private don’t you. Ask your driver to pull over and I’ll ring you on your mobile as we go, oh it’s okay I have that number too.”

“What’s this all abou…”

The line went dead. He told his driver to pull over and got out of the car. He’d taken three paces when his mobile phone rang.

“Is that you.” He yelled into the phone. “What’s happe…”

“Where are you Gordon?”

“Never mind where am I ? Who are you? Where’s my daughter? Is she all right?”

“You don’t seem to understand the situation here, Mister Cross, You see this is my show. I’m the director, the producer and the presenter. You are merely the victim to be bullied and persecuted. I assume you recognise the format?”

“What have you done with Verity?”

“All in good time. She’s quite safe.”

“Let me speak to her. Let me speak to Verity.”

“Oh do be quit and listen and listen to me you young fool.” The lady shouted in an authoritative voice. “I have your daughter Mister Cross, just like you once had mine. Yours will be returned to you safe and well but you have to do something that you’re not very good at first. You have to listen for once.”

“I’m hanging up now. I’m going to ring the police.”

“Oh I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I may be old, but my Johnny, that’s my son, dear, he’s told me all about these gadgets and things. This is what’s called an unregistered telephone. It can’t be traced. So I really do think you ought to listen to me, and then we’ll send Verity home in time for tea.”

His voice was clipped and terse. “Alright I’m listening. What do you want? How much?”

“Money, money, money …that’s all it could possibly be about in your world, isn’t it, money and power. In my day it was all the rage to be silly, it seems to be coming back again. Verity isn’t silly; she was very reluctant to come with us when we asked her to. It was only when we said we would ring to speak to you that she got in our motorcar. I really didn’t like putting her in the boot, but I promise you this Mister Cross, we don’t want to hurt her. We only want you to listen to us. It’s for our Sandra, you see.

He was confused. “Sandra? Who the hell's Sandra? Where’s my wife? Please don’t hurt my little girl.” He was pleading now, close to tears.

“Sandra was my little girl. Where are you now Mister Cross..”

“I’m walking along the high street, one block down from Harrods. Please what’s this all about. Let me talk to Verity”

“I want you to stop where you are now. Don’t walk any further for a minute because I really want you to listen. That’s one of the things that Sarah said in her letter you see. She said that you wouldn’t listen.”

“Let my little girl come home, now.” He was shouting again.

“All you have to do is listen to me and follow some simple instructions and I give you my word that you will have her back safely within the hour.”

“Anything, anything tell me what you want and I’ll do it. Anything.”

“But I’ve already told you what I want three times and still you keep talking. I just want you to listen to me.”

“I’m listening.”

“Good. My Sarah was seventeen years old Mister Cross. She was being silly, you know boys and things like that. Girls in my day were silly too you know, but they had to be careful. Shame was important to us back then. It wasn’t like it is now when people have no shame. I don’t suppose my little girl had any. Her brother it was that took her on your show. I didn’t hold with none of that. Told them it would end in tears. But he wanted to help her, you see dear.”

“Yes,” he said, but he didn’t see at all, all that he could think about was Verity stuck in the boot of some crazy old hag’s car. And the bloody woman was still talking at him.

“I saw you on my television. I watched you shouting at my Sarah. She wasn’t a bad girl, she’d have been all right but you said some terrible things to her. You shouted at her on the television and she felt such shame. Everybody in our street pointing and name calling at her. So this is for Sarah Mister Cross, this is for my Sarah who killed herself after coming on your show.”

He heard his voice rising in hysteria. “What are you going to do? Don’t hurt Verity.”

“Oh I’m not going to do anything dear, you are.”

“What is it? tell me. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything just don’t you hurt her.”

“I have no intention of hurting her, but I can’t make the same claim for my son. He’s still very angry. So I need you to do exactly what I tell you.”

“I’ll do it, I promise, I’ll do it.” He could feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He didn’t care about some kid that’d killed herself. All he cared about was verity.

He listened to the instructions that were given to him over his mobile phone.

Golden Gord ignored the fans that recognised him as he walked the isles of Harrods. He kept his eyes to the front and walked into the gentlemen’s toilets.

When he left them he was naked.

“He shouted at the top of his voice. “This is in memory of Sarah Preston She was a good girl. I feel her shame”

He’d been told to try and make it to one of the window displays but the security men took him down long before he got there.

He did feel shame and some time later he would feel terribly sorry for a kid named Sarah. What people didn't understand was that Gordon Cross was just a persona, a character invented for television. He was just the straight man to a succession of broken people.

Golden Gord would be all over the newspapers the following morning, but Verity would be home for tea.