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The extra nine minutes just wouldn’t be worth the rush later. Jeff and the dogs still snored, not even fazed by that annoying alarm going off at the ungodly hour of 5 AM. Pulling the covers back, the cold air hits her with it’s instant wake up effect. The master bath is only six steps from her side of the bed. Groping in the dark, she closes the door before turning on the light. Jeff was taking the day off to get some projects done around the house today. So, in exchange for letting him sleep in, taking the dogs our, getting the food and water dishes filled, he was going to finish two things she wanted done and he was going to make dinner tonight. It was a fair trade. Usually, she got up later so he would take care of the dogs. And she did most of the cooking. It would be nice to come home to a hot meal today. ‘Damn brights lights! Why can’t it be light out when I have to get up? Because I’m a friggin’ idiot for picking up an extra shift that starts before dawn, that’s why! Hump. She invited the two girls and the two members of the film crew into her very homely living room, chatting all the time about their journey there and the weather. In the same room, sitting on an armchair, wearing a tee-shirt and shorts was a young girl a couple of years older than Maisie whom Emma immediately recognised as Jennifer from the photographs in Delia Cook’s book. She didn’t jump up when everyone came in, but looked at the crew with some curiosity while fiddling with a piece of squidgy plastic in her hands. “Say hello to these people, Jenny,” ordered Delia Cook kindly. “You don’t want them to think you’re rude.” The girl sullenly greeted them and returned her eyes to her lump of plastic. “You must forgive my daughter,” the mother continued to everyone. “She’s actually quite thrilled. She’ll never have been on television in such a starring rôle before. Indeed, before your fabulous new show there just weren’t any programmes which would be willing to film her in any kind of.
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