Chapter 6: Percentages

Rupert's office was a caravan behind the stables, with a whiteboard and a plate of croissants.

His chair squeaked whenever he leaned back, which he did constantly.

"Love the monologue," he said.

"Love it. Take forty per cent off it."

Kit stood in the caravan doorway.

He had been called in at lunchtime with no warning.

Vera was already seated by the whiteboard with her arms folded and her pencil behind her ear.

"Which monologue?" said Kit, though he knew.

"The confession," said Rupert.

"The brother in the study, telling the housekeeper he did it."

"It's sixty lines," said Kit.

"Great. So we lose twenty-four."

"Twenty-four is correct," said Kit.

"Forty per cent of sixty."

"See, he gets it," Rupert said to Vera.

Vera said nothing.

"Why?" said Kit.

"Episode four runs over by four minutes," said Rupert.

"The broadcaster wants a clean fifty-eight."

Kit took out his phone.

He had memorised the running times because he had nothing else to memorise.

"Episode four is at fifty-six minutes and thirty seconds," he said.

"I saw the cut sheet on the call board. You're under by a minute and a half, not over by four."

"We've added the credits," said Rupert.

"The credits are in the fifty-six."

Rupert's chair squeaked.

"Love that you've done the homework. Let's say it's about pacing."

"The confession is three beats of twenty lines each," said Kit.

"Cut forty per cent and you lose the whole second beat and a fifth of the third."

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