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face showing that she wasn’t the only one who thought this.
    ‘What about you, Nicki?’ asked Greg, moving on to her. This was her big chance, she wasn’t going to let it go.
    ‘Really, I think the problem is that there’s no appreciation for the kind of sacrifices that carer’s make on behalf of their family. Careers, relationships, families are put on hold indefinitely. Most of the people I talked to said that they were happy to do it – they didn’t want their family to end up in institutions and felt that keeping their loved ones at home was one of the most important things that they could do. They’re not looking for the world here. But it has to be acknowledged that, if every carer was to stop looking after their family members, most of them would end up in state funded institutions – costing the state millions. If a fraction of that was made available to provide more supports and respite for carer’s, it would make their lives so much easier, and recognise the fact that these people are providing a vital service to some of our country’s most vulnerable people, allowing them to stay within their own homes with dignity for as long as possible.
    ‘Nobody denies that Imelda is doing a fantastic job, making sure that her son has an enriching life. But what about her life? It’s very easy for us to admire people like this in the abstract, but it allows the state to duck its responsibility to vulnerable families. There’s already a criminally low amount of services available to carers, cutting them will put far too much strain on families. It won’t save money in the long run, because it will push those families that are just on the cusp of coping far over the edge, meaning more people are reliant on state services around the clock. It’s a ridiculous measure, and it makes no sense from either a financial or a holistic point of view.’
    ‘That’s what I’m saying,’ Alva cut in. ‘My report highlighted those very facts.’
    ‘Yes, but talking with Colin really helped me put those aspects into focus I suppose,’ said Nicki. ‘I don’t think you talked to him, did you?’
    Alva’s television smile never faltered, but her eyes were ice. ‘Yes, I don’t think he was well when I was visiting.’
    ‘It wasn’t so much that,’ said Imelda. ‘It’s just I’m pretty fussy over who I let interact with him. You remember me mentioning that, surely?’
    There was an awkward silence.
    ‘Ok,’ said Danielle. ‘It’s time to take a final ad break, if you have a preference you have to vote soon because lines will be closing after the break.’
    The adverts started to roll.
    ‘What was that?’ asked Alva angrily.
    Nicki just shrugged. ‘If you have this job so sewn up, then it shouldn’t really bother you, should it?’
    ‘Thank you,’ she said to Imelda.
    ‘No problem,’ she said. ‘And thank you, you hit the nail on the head; it’s good to get that kind of exposure for what carers do.’
    She walked off set. Free of the extra presence, Alva turned to Nicki. ‘This isn’t over, bitch.’
    ‘It kind of almost is,’ said Nicki. ‘Bitch.’
    ‘You don’t seriously think you have a hope do you?’
    Nicki shrugged. ‘Guess we’ll see, won’t we?’
    Kenny ran across the set. ‘Girls, I cannot have a catfight on the set! Plaster on a smile, and pretend you’re the best of friends, understand?’
    They nodded, sullenly.
    ‘However,’ said Kenny. ‘If you positively need to get physical, try to wait until the after show party, ok? Preferably in front of a columnist from one of the leading newspapers or blogs. Good for publicity.’
    ‘Twenty seconds!’
    Kenny scuttled off set, Sorcha piled yet more face powder onto Greg’s oily visage and followed suit.
    ‘Well, the votes are in, and we can reveal that the new presenter is!’ Dramatic music played, the set darkened and a spotlight roamed around the set occasionally landing on Alva and Nicki. It was probably meant to heighten