‘How do you mean?’ said Diane.
‘In all these series, everyone has a problem,’ said Tony. ‘The Steptoes hate each other, and they’re poor, and Harold thinks he should be living a different kind of life altogether. Alf Garnett in Till Death, he’s a man out of time. The world’s moving on without him. Barbara and Jim were different in every way, but they loved each other, and they wanted to make their marriage work …’
‘Yeah, but they’re all so depressing, those programmes,’ said Diane. ‘None of my friends want to watch them.’
Tony stared at her.
‘Depressing?’
‘What’s funny about rag-and-bone men? Or a horrible old man and his ugly wife going on and on about Winston Churchill and the Queen? And Barbara and Jim … No offence, but they spent four years arguing about books and politics and then they got divorced! Nobody watches them because they’re such a drag.’
‘What are you talking about, nobody watches them? Everybody watches them!’
‘Yes,’ said Diane. ‘My mum and dad. My granny. My cousins in Devon. People like that. But nobody I actually want to spend any time with.’
Tony suddenly felt old. For years, he and Bill and all the other writers of their generation had fought for the right to say things about the world they lived in, and then, suddenly, they’d broken through and there was this new England, full of books and films and music and television programmes that said real things about real people. And all this stuff had made the country seem brighter, sharper, funnier, younger. Now Diane was saying to him, as far as he could make out, that she was only interested in the brightness and the youth that these things had brought into being, the clothes and the fashion and the money.
‘So what’s her problem?’ said Tony.
He hoped he didn’t sound as tired to Diane as he sounded to himself, but he suspected she wouldn’t notice.
‘She hasn’t got any problems,’ said Diane. ‘That’s what’s so great about her. Everyone loves Sophie.’
‘Well,’ said Tony. ‘There’s the title, anyway. Now all we need is the rest of it.’
Diane began the next working morning with a passionate plea for the restoration of Simmonds’s cat.
‘It can be someone for her to talk to,’ said Diane.
‘Do you have a cat?’ said Tony, just to make conversation.
‘Ringo’s more of a kitten, really,’ said Diane.
‘And do you talk to Ringo?’
‘That’s what I’m saying,’ said Diane.
Tony had suspected as much.
‘And what do you say to him?’
‘Oh, just … I don’t know, really. I ask him whether he’s hungry, and I tell him off if he’s been naughty.’
‘Right,’ said Tony.
‘And I practise interviews on him.’
‘Does that work?’
‘He doesn’t say much back. But it helps me work out whether the questions are interesting.’
‘Cat body language?’
Diane looked at him as if he were the mad one.
‘No. He’s a cat. He doesn’t understand a word I’m saying. But when I say them out loud I can tell whether they’re daft or not.’
‘Oh. Right you are.’
‘My flatmate used to think I was potty. It was probably why she moved out.’
Tony had the urge to beat his head against the desk. He should never have been employed as a writer by anybody, that much was clear, but he was beginning to wonder whether he was mentally capable of any kind of work.
‘You had a flatmate?’
‘Yes. Mandy. We didn’t get on terribly well, though.’
‘Well, I think Simmonds should have a flatmate.’
‘Instead of a cat?’
‘Yes. Instead of a cat.’
Somewhere in Tony’s brain, a heavy, rusting piece of machinery began to turn. He was surprised that Diane couldn’t hear the awful wheezing and clanking.
‘And I think she should be coloured.’
‘Coloured?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know any coloured people?’
‘One or two. Through Bill, to tell you the truth, but still.’
‘But … How do we get an actress to play a coloured person?’
‘I think what we do is find a coloured actress.’
‘Oh. Gosh. Yes. Of course.’
‘What do you think?’
‘Won’t it be too depressing?’
‘Why does it have to be depressing?’
‘It’s a serious problem.’
‘It is, but she doesn’t have to be. She could just be a person.’
‘And nobody ever mentions it?’
‘They’d mention it sometimes. But it’s still a show about Simmonds. It just gives us something extra to work with. Let’s talk to Dennis and Sophie.’