GOSSIP CALUMNY - 2/5 - When Word Gets Out

A particular focus of Henry's performative ire in his recent gossip columns had been a scandal that Henry had been 'self- brewing'. Previously there hadn't been much to be said about Andy Barnes, he was a bit of an anodyne personality. A broad empty smile, severe side parting, orange coloured skin and undoubtedly fake fair hair colouring. Partnered on his early evening magazine chat sofa by Sally Wallinger.  'A vacuous piece of fluff more than the intellectual equal of Andy' is how Henry described her. Both had worked there empty headed way up to adult programming, from unremarkable origins in kids TV. Mainly through working engagingly with hand puppets, both fabricated and human.

Henry discovered Andy had a distant cousin Don who, so it turned out, was a bit of an all round wanker. Done several turns with an ASBO as a youth, highly inappropriate behaviour towards women, leaning towards rapist, recently in court for selling recreational drugs in Brighton's backstreets, had once been known to be living rough on the streets of Hove. 'Self brewing' basically meant creating a scandal where one didn't really exist, but you used the dark media arts to conjure one into visible being. Henry just went to town on the sad bad story of Don. Did his best to implicate Andy in all his cousin's felonious activities. To basically slap tar on him as being made with exactly the same brush. Implying an ever growing scale of involvement. So he knowingly tolerated, then encouraged, progressing to engaged with Don's wrong doing himself. Done repeatedly, some of this scattering of wild seeds would stick.

That Andy had been estranged from Don for well over ten years, since his first stretch in prison for rape, was consciously overlooked. As was anything that might conceivably contradict the desired narrative thread that he alone was constructing. Henry had decided he was going to bring Andy Barnes down, in order to demonstrate that he still had the power to do so. He'd done this many many times before. Relishing the challenge of turning a complete innocent into a heinous pariah, preferably within a fortnight. This was what he did for fun.

It had not taken long for Chalfont's proposed change of gender to become a thing of ribald comment in the gossip columns of rival publications. Henry, of course, gave his son's decision not one single mention. He was a professional gossip columnist, he knew you could never starve a good story to death. Particularly when there was so much festering hate in the industry, and amongst celebrities, towards Henry. With decades worth of pleasure at other more famous folks reputational expense. So the desire in some to give him a good return kicking was going to prove irresistible. Even when some of them had a public standing that could not really get much lower. This never stopped any of them from pointing their grubby immoral finger at someone else's shit hitting the fan. Said finger becoming miraculously holier than thou.

Henry could sense all sorts of scum coming up to the surface. For his own life was not exactly short on areas for scandal and controversy, if you were determined to find them. The gossip fraternity had no doubt already done the research, taken and kept notes. But had stayed quiet about them, for fear of prematurely rousing Henry to go ballistic on them. They would be daily gaining in confidence, with the first whiff of ridicule over Chalfont having passed without comment from him. Once these early indications of weakness showed themselves, his invulnerable status would visibly sag, then open season would begin. 

Henry sensed this moments imminent arrival in his very bones. And he could tell exactly where it might be set alight from. One of his previous wives, mistresses or acrimonious ex-girlfriends would break the silence, that their non disclosure agreement was meant to impose. In his mind he was already running a mental sweep stake as to which one would be first.