The Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing But the Truth
The light woke her up. It seeped in under her eyelids, chasing away the dream she’d been having, and swiftly unravelled it into cosmic vapour even as she inwardly groaned – why the hell did she have to wake up during the best bit? Not that she could remember any of the details, she never did remember her dreams – but she always, always remembered how she felt during them. A good dream equalled a good mood resulting in a good day. Generally speaking anyway.
Bad dream? Then she would predictably feel tired, restless, and uneasy, with a distinct unwillingness to engage in social niceties until something snapped her out of it. Like chocolate chip cookies. A bunch of ‘em. Preferably accompanied by a hot chocolate (but no marshmallows, ewww – far too sweet). These sorts of days tended to be known as stay-at-home-and-order-takeaway days. Or don’t-bother-getting-out-of-my-pyjamas days.
Today though, felt like a good day. Thank the Holly and the Ivy heavens. Scrunching her face up, Laura Hollis smacked her right arm over her face. A little too enthusiastically.
“Oof!” She adjusted her arm, twitched her nose and sighed. “Idiot.”
Rolling over to her right side, she hauled herself upright and squinted across to her bedside table. 7.32am blinked back at her in yellow light from her clock. Early, but not too early…
Laura shuffled her feet across her bedroom, down the cool hallway, towards the kitchen, where she grabbed the kettle and shoved it under the tap to fill it up. It was quiet, other than the kettle’s crescendo, the faint click that signalled the heating coming on and the radiators straining into life. She yawned and carefully stretched out her neck from side to side, hoping to loosen up the muscles before she did any damage doing something trivial, such as washing her hair.
The last four months had been tough and incredibly stressful. Helping to research and write that expose on the neglectful treatment of patients at a number of privately run residential care homes was both emotionally and physically draining. She really wanted to pour her heart and soul into it though, and she was beyond grateful that it had totally paid off. Elizabeth (Liz) Cochrane, the main investigator on the scandal, not to mention her mentor and boss – had credited her to everyone connected with the escalating media coverage.
Laura was too exhausted to do anything other than smile and slump with relief in every meeting room or early preview of the filmed footage, which included clips of whistleblower interviews, plus surprise confrontations with the care home owners. The worst footage to watch in her opinion though, was always of either the secret surveillance conducted in patient rooms (with their relatives consent), and the reactions of the relatives once the surveillance confirmed their worst fears – that their loved one was being abused by the carers through either neglect or the cruelty of their so-called care. It took all of Laura’s resilience and eternal optimism to remember in the face of such pain and misery, that the world was still a beautiful place, filled with good people and loving actions.
After all, Laura was literally living her dream. A degree in media and communications from LSE (the London School of Economics and Political Science), gave her the formal qualifications to enter into the field of journalism, something she had longed for all her young life – from school newsletters, to University newspapers to internships at any media company she could find. She’d worked long and hard and probably would have continued her ascent in the traditional medium of newspapers and magazines…but something was missing.
Because if there was one thing that Laura loved even more than the thrill of the chase, rolling up her sleeves and getting to the truth of a mystery – it was the toe-curling, dramatic pleasure of the REVEAL!!! And yes, she may have read and watched too much Agatha Christie and Sherlock – but give a girl a little credit – it came along to apply for the position of a researcher on Horizons, she left her national press job (she had gotten a few bylines by then, nothing front page, but the path for getting there was well tried and tested), took a career step sideways and a little bit backwards, as she was happy to play the long game.
Remember, your career is a marathon, Laura, not a sprint. Her favourite lecturer at LSE used to say, during their regular career conversations. Dr Peggy Churchill was revered amongst the faculty members and Laura felt privileged to be placed in her tutor group…. she was just so delightfully down-to-earth and nice (!) on top of being a fiercely intelligent and gifted teacher. Laura had motherly feelings towards her for her entire University tenure. Her own history left her with a gaping void where her mother used to be, and so despite her unspoken resolution to be emotionally self sufficient, she was always going to be drawn like a magnet to someone like Peggy. Thank goodness her career meant Laura remained in London, so she was easily able to maintain an evolving friendship with her. They would meet monthly for a lunch date and Laura cherished their time together. These days, you can have multiple careers, think about where you want to be, and don’t worry about chasing each and every promotion and getting it as quickly as possible. It will be meaningless if you don’t try to pursue what you love to do….
So after swallowing a teeny bit of pride and getting through a somewhat gruelling interview process (seriously, how many people worked for that bloody show?) and in depth background checks, Laura found herself assigned to Elizabeth Cochrane as a junior researcher on Horizons, a current affairs TV programme that aired on primetime TV and was renowned for analysis on a wide variety of subjects, investigative work on cases of corruption, plus in depth interviews with key public figures of interest.
Elizabeth was a powerhouse and a semi national treasure. Formerly a foreign correspondent specialising in the Middle East and terrorism, she joined Horizons in 2008 and had so far spearheaded 40+ documentaries, receiving awards left, right and centre for her intelligent analysis and thoughtful filmmaking. Laura was thrilled beyond measure when she was paired with her and considered her decades of experience a privilege to witness up close and learn from.
Likewise, in the 2 years Laura had worked for Horizons, Elizabeth considered Laura her protégé and someone she could rely on. No small thing for someone like her, who had gathered fans and enemies alike in her long and varied career. A veteran at 62, she knew to pay extra attention to the next generation of filmmakers and journalists to ensure her legacy (whatever it was) would continue. It was very important to her that it included smart and tenacious women. She sincerely believed that women should always champion other women, and didn’t understand why some held a misguided notion that a younger woman should find it as hard as she did when starting out, like it was some twisted rite of passage.
Even with Elizabeth’s subtle guiding hand, it was challenging, the hours were long, but it was important work and Laura loved every second. Well…except this very second and the next 864,000 seconds – because Laura Hollis was going to make her morning brew and step onto her fourth storey balcony to gaze upon the morning mist across the river Thames and its river boats, and then she was going to get ready, head to Paddington Station and travel home to her father’s house for Christmas. At that point, she was going to sit on the sofa, consult The Radio Times, recharge her batteries and eat everything in sight, just as the Good Lord intended.
She had a feeling 2017 had a lot in store for her.
Bless her little socks with bunny rabbits on. She didn’t have a clue just how much.