Stargirl of the Edge

Ch 40 - Publicity Campaign

Summary: Following the kidnapping of her husband in a dangerous country, Liz, Olivia's mother, decides to launch a publicity campaign to try and raise his profile and get him released. 

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Liz knew so many people Olivia had long since given up trying to remember all their names and backgrounds. And so she had taken to describing people not as ‘Geoff’ or ‘Sarah’ or ‘Martin’ but ‘Geoff, the nice publicity guy’, ‘Sarah, the fundraising lady with the blonde hair’ or ‘Geoff the accountant with the black sports car’, and more often than not she would omit the name. That made it easier for Olivia.

And so from that weekend onwards, a remarkable succession of people began arriving at the house, coming from near and far, all booked in at different times.

She started with Geoff, the publicity guy who had worked in politics and been involved in the campaign of a high profile local MP. Dressed in smart casual clothing he rolled up in an impressive convertible sports car. 

She sat him down at the kitchen table, offering, as usual a small cup of Chinese tea or a mug of English tea. He chose the latter.

“Liz, I heard what happened and when you called I decided I had to help. I think I’ll definitely be able to help to raise the profile of this. I have quite a lot of contacts at a high level and could pull some strings for you…”

Those were just the words Liz wanted to hear and she soon presented him with a set of action points. 

And then there was Eric, the tall, distinguished journalist with the pale suit. He had been to many parts of the world, though not the country where Dennis was being held.  Like many of the older male friends of a certain age, he seemed to regard Liz almost like a long lost sweetheart. Although many men had longed to go out with her, Liz had had only one serious relationship before she got married and that was with Dennis.

The journalist sat at the table and after choosing the Chinese tea, he offered his hand in a gesture of solidarity.

“Liz,” he said, with a deep voice that had been heard on countless news reports. “When I heard what had happened, I was shocked. This happened to one of my colleagues, and nearly to me on one occasion.  If there is anything I can do to help, I am at your service. Your husband is truly a remarkable man, and you are a remarkable woman, Liz.”

“Oh you! You always had a way with words, didn’t you?”

He continued to smile, and took another sip of the Chinese tea. “No, I really mean it! So just tell me how I can help. I am at your service.”

“Well,” she said looking down at the scribbled notes in front of her, “would you be available to write some copy for the campaign website?”

“Of course…”

“And maybe get in touch with some of your editor friends and ask them if they could give us a bit of coverage?”

“Of course, that’s exactly what I was going to suggest,” he said, bowing.

They chatted some more but then he had to leave, and the next friend took his place at the table.

There was the grey suited Italian PR man with the short hair - Liz had always had a fondness for Italian men. As soon as she had requested a high profile print and media campaign, he snapped his fingers and said in his inimitable Italian accent. “I’ll getta my girls onto it right away!”

And then there was the tall, dark-haired web design and optimisation guy, from Birmingham. They say people from Birmingham talk as if they’re bored, and as Liz read out her list of requests, which included a campaign website, he nodded in a low voice and said “Yeah, yeah, I think I should be able to put a site together for you in a few days,” and after some more chat, he went on his way.

Then there was the young, spiky-haired lawyer, one of the best in the North.  He had represented many individuals and local companies. It was good to have him on the team.

There were important people the Chinese community who were friends with Dennis, one in the publishing industry who promised to provide coverage, another who owned a string of Chinese supermarkets. He would donate to the fund and agreed to put posters up.

Then there was Liz’s good friend, the glamorous blonde-haired local charity fundraiser. Her little black book had a list of some of the wealthiest individuals in the county. After a few minutes with Liz, she was keen to get started. 

And then there was the accountant, the videographer, the printer - for the publicity materials, the graphic designer to create a logo, the guy in the village that could print the logo onto clothes and gift items, and many other professionals who gave their support at a reduced price, or in some cases, for free.

Hippy Dave, the long-haired guy who lived on the trailer park with the orange three-wheeled truck that kept breaking down, was very happy to be the driver. If anyone needed to be picked up from the station, he could borrow the Jag. At other times he could use his truck.

By the end of the weekend, there were at least thirty to forty leading professionals signed up to the campaign: from a glamorous and persuasive fundraising girl who could make the meanest of wealthy individuals part with thousands of pounds, or a copywriter who was not just a newspaper ‘hack’, but a respected war journalist and author, or the guy who could repair an engine with a piece of rope and could be relied upon to be available to pick someone up 24 hours a day.

In the days that followed, more friends and contacts would be called in to help with the campaign, and not one of them said ‘No’.

There was one goal: To raise the profile of the Free Dennis Yang campaign and keep it in the eyes of the media, thereby putting pressure on the people in authority, and perhaps getting through to those who might be able to help to get him freed.

Some time would be needed for the campaign to gather momentum. It might take some days, or longer.  If Dennis were to be released soon, that would be great, the campaign would be swiftly wound up, any money raised donated to charity. That was the best case scenario, but if it took a little longer, that was okay too. They were ready for anything.

For now, Olivia focused completely on her exam preparation. This would be her second and final week of exams, with the second Physics paper on Monday, and the second Maths paper on Tuesday.  

And Olivia knew that another important event would fall on the Tuesday, and the sunset would be around 9.40pm. Whatever she had said in the past about not meeting a certain Chinese princess in the woods on Alderley Edge, it no longer applied. There was a new reality now. She needed help, just like the first time she had made contact around five months previously.

The Physics and Chemistry exams went smoothly. Olivia felt confident that she had performed well. Of course, what the final result would be, that wasn’t so clear. She may have thought she had done excellently but only the results would reveal the truth. At the back of her mind, she had the feeling that perhaps she had become over-confident, and that her answers may not be quite as good as she thought. But she would have to put those thoughts to one side for now. 

The results would not be out until Thursday 16th of August, more than two months away.

Liz was now busy every day with the campaign and when Olivia went down the spiral staircase on Tuesday evening she found that there were several people sitting around the table. Liz sat at the top of the table, shuffling papers, leaning forward, chatting to each person in turn.

“I’m just popping out, Mum,” Olivia said

Liz smiled at her, then carried on talking. Olivia beckoned to Jessie and they headed straight for the car. 

Comment: Much of the action here is inspired by real events and people from my own life. I have also drawn on my experience of working with media and PR companies.