Memorandum – Wayne 26

 

[For back story go here: Story so far at 17 Sept 2020.]

[Back story and cultural references also found through in-links.]

“So, when did I agree to this?” asked Wayne, looking at the now published online promotion for 'Win a Front Room Gig from ManzDown’.

“Erm,” said Cath, her mouth suddenly dry. “Like, all this month we’ve been talking about it. Over and over again and you were pretty enthusiastic.”

There was a pause.

"I didn't know you meant it for real."

"How else would I have meant it?”

“Did I actually say I wanted to do it though?” said Wayne on a different tack.

There was another pause.

“Technically…” said Cath. “Yes. Yes you did.”

“I’m not certain this is me,” said Wayne.

“It’s entirely you,” said Cath. “Man of the people, spokesperson for a generation. It’ll be fine. Trust me. You can trust me, can’t you?”

Cath had the whole operation already sorted in her head – at least she knew how she was going to make it work even if she didn’t actually know how it was going to work. The reason being in the first place that the ongoing lockdowns would mean the deadline would be extendable as much as was required. That in turn meant the promotion could go on for as long as they wanted it to, could be switched on and off according to lockdown regulations and interest and could be attached to or stacked around everything else Wayne wanted to do between now and whenever it happened.

Secondly, she was convinced that wherever the gig ended up they would be able to stage it – or stage something – that looked and felt like an authentic ManzDown gig. It could be anything from a DJ set to Wayne with a guitar. The possibilities were endless and therefore however it materialised it would look and feel great. The only challenge that this left was providing reassurance to Wayne that it would all be OK without actually being able to tell him precisely what it was that would be OK.

“Can I trust you?” asked Wayne. “There’s a lot going on at the moment I don’t want to risk anything or mess anything up. Look what happened to BarnStormerz.”

“That wasn’t my fault, right? That was completely different and I did what I could to get it straight. At the end of the day they shot themselves in the foot. Fair and square. Nothing I could do about it. This is in no way this is comparable and there's no chance it would end up being in anyway the same. I've done a full 360 risk assessment,” she added, in case it would impress him.

It did impress him but he was still uneasy. He didn't really know exactly how BarnStormerz had committed such a mistake and Cath was, after all, meant to be in charge of all their public interaction at the time. Even if what had been said had been made on a private account it had still happened on her watch.

In addition to this the perilous state of Dave's work situation was playing on his mind. The restaurant may well have to close for a couple of weeks with the new restrictions and more importantly the accompanying fear among customers. Wayne was feeling uneasy about how this would affect Dave. There were other people' jobs at stake and the last thing he wanted to happen was for him to be firefighting when he really needed to be on hand to help Dave deal with whatever was coming up.

Also he was gently making in roads with apparent new found mum Cassie. The photo album she had sent him had made him 99 per cent certain this wasn’t an elaborate hoax the one remaining per cent being that it was some kind of TV programme where suddenly they’d reveal a hidden TV camera and everyone would try and get a cheap laugh out of it. Despite everything he thought this would be going a bit too far.

Wayne sighed. "Well it's out there now so I don't have a choice do I?"

"Well, you do," said Cath. "You did and you still do, but backing out might be a bit messy."

“Like I said, it’s not a choice," muttered Wayne. "I do have one condition though."

"Yes?"

"Matt Hancock gets no where near this, says nothing about it and is never mentioned in anything that mentions me ever. Understood?"

"Entirely."

"What else?" asked Wayne.

"A few media invites," said Cath. "Question Time?"

“Play them the last album.”

“Bake Off?"

“You’re joking.”

“Who Do You Think You Are?”

“Play them the next album.”

"Celebrity Mastermind - for charity."

“Mastermind?"

“You get to choose the specialist subject."

“Yeah, why the hell not.”

Cath said she’d put the offer in an email and Wayne could clearly write an email back to her which would confirm his interest. That way there’d be no confusion as to what he had or hadn’t agreed to.