Chapter 1 - Lost in Transmission
Nidge was blindsided by a phone call from a local radio producer. "Nidge Hewer? The TV legend? We'd love to have you on our 'Legends of TV' segment next week. Big fans of your work."
Nidge's eyes widened. A lifeline! Proof that the world hadn't forgotten him after all. "Absolutely! I'll check my schedule... but I'll make it work. For my fans, anything."
Hanging up, he dashed into the kitchen where his PA, Beryl, was sipping tea. "Beryl! Radio interview! Legends of TV!"
Beryl arched an eyebrow. "Local radio? Not exactly the bigtime, is it?"
Nidge waved her off. "It's a start. They'll want anecdotes, charm, the works. I'll remind them who's the face of British TV."
"The self-proclaimed face of British TV," Beryl muttered.
The day of the interview, Nidge arrived at the studio overdressed in a sharp suit. The dingy studio, with its peeling posters and disinterested receptionist, didn't dampen his spirits. He handed out business cards with his face printed on one side and the tagline, "Nidge Hewer: The Face of British TV," on the other. As he pressed the cards into staff members' hands, he made small talk about his glory days. "Ah, telly's not what it used to be, is it? Back in my day, we had real shows, proper entertainment".
Finally ushered into the studio, Nidge slid into his seat opposite the radio host, a cheery man in his forties wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a faded t-shirt emblazoned with the words "Keep Calm and Radio On."
"We're live in three, two..." The host leaned into the mic. "Welcome back to 'Legends of TV'! Today we're joined by Nigel Hewitt, the man behind the 90s hit game show Cash Dash."
Nidge froze. Nigel Hewitt? Cash Dash? That wasn't him. But the red light on the microphone glared at him like a challenge. This was his moment, mistaken identity or not.
"Ah, yes, Cash Dash," Nidge said, his voice taking on a confident tone. "Those were the days, weren't they?"
The host grinned. "An absolute classic! What inspired the iconic 'spin-the-wheel' concept?"
"Oh, that... well, you know, Saturday night telly magic," Nidge bluffed, his mind scrambling for details. "You just don't see that kind of innovation anymore."
As the host reeled off questions about Cash Dash, Nidge's improvisations grew more elaborate. He invented catchphrases ("The wheel never spins twice the same way!") and described fictional contestants ("Oh, Terry from Bournemouth... what a legend!"). Each answer only emboldened him.
"We've got a caller," the host said. "Terry from Bournemouth, you're on the air!"
Nidge's face paled. "Oh... Terry... hi!"
The voice on the line was gleeful. "Hello, Nigel. Big fan of Cash Dash. Just wondering... do you remember the time when the wheel fell off the stage during the live final?"
Nidge's mind raced. "Oh, of course! A true television moment. The audience loved it."
"Funny," Terry said, his tone sharpening. "Because that never happened. And you're not Nigel Hewitt, are you? You're Nidge Hewer from that awful chat show."
The host's grin faltered. The studio fell silent, save for the muffled snorts of the crew. Nidge forced a chuckle. "Ah, you got me, Terry. Always good to have a bit of banter with the fans."
"Not a fan, Nidge. And my name's not Terry. It's Clive Daniels. Remember me? You promised me a live interview spot on Hewer Tonight! - then bumped me so you could nearly drown yourself in that botched escapologist stunt!"
Nidge's face went ashen. "Clive! What a surprise! I had no idea... er, lovely to reconnect after all these years."
"Oh, it's lovely alright,” Clive shot back. "Lovely to hear your voice again, Nidge. You sound a lot less muffled when you're not floundering in a half-empty fish tank, gasping for air!"
The host hastily wrapped up the segment, "Well, that's all we have time for, folks. Thanks for joining us, Nigel... err... I mean Nidge!" before quickly cutting to a commercial break.
Outside, Beryl sat in her parked car, listening in horror as the last moments of the show unfolded. As Nidge hopped into the passenger seat beside her, he sheepishly asked, "So, how did I do?"
Beryl, suppressing a sigh, muttered, "Let's make a quick exit before any more jilted guests spot you."
That evening, Nidge held court at The Rusty Crown, recounting his "smash-hit" radio appearance to Big Pete and the regulars. "Viral moments like this... that's how careers are made these days," he declared confidently.
Pete, struggling to contain his laughter, asked, "Smash-hit? Were you on the same broadcast as the rest of us?" The regulars burst into laughter, raising their pints in mock celebration. Nidge, determined to put his own spin on the situation, carried on regardless.
Pete squinted at his phone. "You're right about one thing... it's going viral. But not for the reasons you think."
He held up a clip of Nidge's disastrous interview, already circulating online. The regulars, still wiping tears of laughter from their eyes, howled even louder. Nidge, undeterred, raised his glass with a grin. "Here's to the next big break!"