Chapter 2

Kenny wondered if he wasn't possibly the World's Happiest Man.

After spontaneously ending up back home after chasing his destiny (aka Kelly) from Australia to the UK, he had settled in well at his "temporary" position of Assistant Editor at The Phoenix. Everyone had welcomed him back with open arms, even if Colin did seem to think he had been in Wales all this time.

He was also enjoying the fact he had his own office. Sitting opposite Lynda, he decided, was bad for the health in the way that having a desk perched on Mount St Helens might have been. On the plus side, he could have volunteered for any community response team, having become adept at extinguishing spot fires and counselling the traumatised.

"Kenny!" Think of the devil. The new phone system was the latest in high-tech communications, but the intercom system had its drawbacks. Especially since Lynda had learned how to use it.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"The front page for the first edition. They're doing the shoot now, are you ready?"

"Coming," Kenny checked his reflection in his computer monitor and joined Lynda on the way to the photography studio.

"I've never been front page news before," he commented.

"Nothing to it, Kenny," said the American voice behind him, slapping him on the back. "Although there will be hordes of women to fight off. I hope you realised that when you agreed to do this."

"You mean the ones who want you to sign their walking frames?" Lynda asked, sweetly. Spike rolled his eyes and continued talking to Kenny, unabashed.

"They'll come up, pretend they recognise you from somewhere. Then they'll say something along the lines of . . ." he adopted a breathless falsetto ". . . omigoditsyouuuuuu!"

"Omigoditsyouuuu!" repeated Kenny in the same high-pitched voice, grinning. "Right. Think I've got it."

"Spike's certainly no stranger to that particular phrase," said Lynda. "Although usually it's followed by something like 'Weren't you the one at the school dance who . .'"

"Now, now, Lynda," admonished Spike, wagging his finger at her. "That was a long time ago, before Mr Sullivan steered me onto the path of righteousness and the Junior Gazette."

Lynda snorted. "Spike, you did exactly the same thing at the last Christmas party!"

"Not exactly the same," corrected Spike. "I had different underwear. I'm sure of it!"

Julie met them at the door of the studio. "Come in, guys. They're just setting up."

Lynda looked at the set. "This is my office!"

"Thought you'd like it!" grinned Julie. "We wanted to go for a natural, realistic setting."

"Then why didn't we just do it in my office?" asked Lynda.

"I'm always up for that!" smirked Spike, nudging Kenny who made a "too much information" face.

"Not that real," replied Julie dryly. "Anyway, you haven't met our new photographer yet, have you?"

The group shook their heads as Julie pulled up a tall, freckled guy with dark hair and a multitude of facial piercings.

"Hey, Danny!" exclaimed Spike, shaking his hand. "Good to see you, man!"

"All right, Spike?" replied Danny laconically. "Kenny, Lynda, nice to see yer."

"And you," replied Kenny, when his turn for the handshake came around.

Lynda looked blank.

"Come on, Lynda. Think way way back to the early days of the Junior Gazette," prompted Kenny. Lynda screwed up her face.

"I thought that was Kevin?"

"Kevin was blonde," said Kenny wearily. "And gay. He had the affair with the guy from Features, remember?"

"Well, who was the one that ran away after that whole Gaz debacle?"

"That would be me," grinned Danny, sheepishly. "I hope you've forgiven me by now, Lynda. I was made an offer I couldn't refuse, working in a studio in London."

"Er, sure," replied Lynda after a discreet nudge from Spike. "So, what are we doing then?"

"They'll just put some make-up on you so your features don't wash out with the lights," said Julie. "Don't panic if it looks a bit heavy. Colin's in the chair as we speak."

"Right. And you've been done already," said Lynda.

"No," replied Julie, frowning.

"Oh," said Lynda uncomfortably. "Well. You look very . . . ready."

After they had all had a turn in the make-up chair, they were arranged in various positions around the faux office until Danny was satisfied.

"This takes me back," said Danny happily, squinting through his viewfinder. "I took the very first staff photo at the Junior Gazette, and here we all are again. Okay everybody, smile and say 'Bollocks'!"