Trojan by James Follett

Author:James Follett [Follett, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: General, Mystery & Detective, Fiction
ISBN: 9780749303631
Publisher: Mandarin
Published: 1991-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

channel.

'Here's a good one,' said Bill. He read aloud: 'PORN KING TO HAVE OWN TV

CHANNEL.'

Marshall had the news item framed and hung in his new office. It was given pride of place alongside, 'GIRLIE LINEUP IN TATE GALLERY'.

One thing the new channel did not need was a publicity agent, Marshall's willingness to talk to the press now that the high-definition cat was out of the bag, and his fund of quotable quotes, kept the bandwagon rolling. Throwaways such as: 'We're going to shake the broadcasting establishment by the ears until the teeth fall out of rotten gums' and 'Running a popular European satellite station may not be a licence to print money, but it will be a licence to stamp ecus', were calculated to have sub-editors offering whispered prayers of thanks. Television was now run by the Faceless Ones. Not since Lew Grade had there been a television chief like Marshall Tate who could communicate.

Unexpected support came from the Prime Minister who described the new channel as evidence of the decadence that was undermining 'our' society. This was the day before the Elite channel went on air. The statement was construed as support because the general feeling in Europe was that anything a British prime minister did not like could not possibly be bad. More positive support was forthcoming from a number of advertising agencies who were playing a wait-and-see game but nevertheless requested rate cards.

42

All the publicity, good and bad, paid off. A poll commissioned by EBARB - the European Broadcasters' Audience Research

Board - indicated that thirty million viewers would be switching on to see the opening of the much-hyped Elite channel.

After two weeks of dummy runs, the Elite channel opened at 6 p.m. EST on 1 October 1994

with a three-hour compilation of stunning scenes from a travel series bought from a French company. The journalists invited to the opening dutifully filed their rave eulogies on the new television system and the Elite channel was on its way.

By Christmas of that year, the Elite channel's curious mix had carved it a wobbly audience figure of three million. Occasional protests over the sexually explicit nature of some of its late-night programmes (some protests were engineered by Marshall) pushed up the figures but failed to win any appreciable additional advertising revenue. When the transponder leasing payments for the Astra started, Marshall was facing the perennial problem of balancing his output of repeats against the risk of alienating his viewers. He desperately needed a new angle.

A visit to Sir Robert's home to discuss programme acquisitions gave him an idea. After a lot of argument, the banker agreed to his precious electronic roulette table being set up at North Woolwich. Once the problems with the major credit card companies had been sorted out, the Elite channel's casino weekends proved astonishingly popular. Telephone lines and facilities for twenty sales staff had to be installed in the warehouse adjoining the studios to cater for the flood of calls from viewers from all over Europe anxious to place bets on the electronic roulette table.

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