“Come ON BELLE!” Poppy shouted up the stairs, “We’ve got like 5 minutes before the car arrives.”

“Why so soon, it doesn’t start until 7”

“Well, they need to talk to us first, check we know what they’ll ask us, then they have to do our make-up and hair, make you look even more stunning.”

“Will Amy Peters be on; I love her voice.”

“She was on last night, so I guess she will be tonight.”

“Amazing, I’ll wear my sturdiest panties, just in case.”

“Shitting hell Belle, aren’t you even in your undies yet,” Poppy cried as she ran up the stairs.

I sighed and refilled my coffee mug, “What have I let myself in for?”

“I’m pretty sure that when we adopted them, you signed an agreement to take them to the BBC studios for promotional purposes,” Jenny laughed.

“Damn, I knew I should have taken my glasses for the small print.”

Poppy had persuaded Belle to wear a skirt for the TV interview. She was an absolute vision as she bounced into the kitchen wearing a navy-blue polo shirt, a short, blue checked pleated skirt and blue Converse hi-tops.

“I want my hair in buns, because that’s my best look, but Poppy said to leave my hair down because they’ll sort me at the studio.”

“They might not do it for guests, so pop a couple of hair-bobbles in your pocket so you can do it yourself if you have to,” I advised.

“What’s the point of going on TV if we don’t get to see the BBC hairdresser,” Belle sulked.

“You’ll get to see Amy Peters,” Poppy reminded her.

“Oh yes! Where’s the car? You said it would be here in 5 minutes.”

“Did I?” Poppy smiled, “I meant 15 minutes.”

“You lying cow!” Belle cried, hitting Poppy with her jacket.

“Stop it, you’ll mess up my dress,” Poppy cried.

Sensibly, seeing as they were appearing on TV to promote their charity, and their upcoming book, Poppy had decided they’d both wear charity shop clothes today. She was wearing a Monsoon dress with a tie-dyed floral print and black Vans.

The gate buzzer sounded before Belle could hit Poppy again.

“Make sure Katie leaves my homework out,” Poppy called to Jenny as we hustled for the door, “I’ll do it when we get home.”

A 7-seater Mercedes was standing silently at the kerb, “Oh, is this an electric car,” Belle asked, “I can’t hear an engine at all.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” I replied as I tapped in the gate code.

Belle opened the front passenger door, “is this an electric car?”

“Err, yes, it is,” the driver replied.

“Amazing! Can I sit in front? I want to see everything.”

“I’m not supposed to carry passengers in the front seat,” the driver replied, panicking slightly.

“I won’t touch anything, promise, and I’ll wear my seatbelt for the whole journey.”

The driver looked at me plaintively.

“It’s probably best if you let her, she’ll drive you insane with her mithering otherwise.”

“Ahh, OK.”

“Fantastic. I’m Belle, and that’s Poppy, and he’s Alex, our dad.”

“I’m Keith, your driver for today. I’ll be driving you home after the show.”

“Have you met Amy Peters?” Belle asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

“Yes, I drove her to the studio yesterday.”

“What’s she like?”

“She’s very nice,” Keith replied as he pulled silently away.

“Oh, this is very smooth, I like it,” Belle told him.

I leant forward and gently tapped Belle on the shoulder, “you haven’t asked me if I’ve met her.”

“What! You’ve met Amy Peters and you only just tell me now!”

“Because you never thought to ask me. I’ve been on the show a few times.”

“Really, I thought you just did the posh arts shows.”

“I’ve done the mainstream shows as well. It’s a few years since I’ve been on, but Amy Peters was on the last couple of times.”

Belle twisted in her seat, “tell me what she’s like!”

“She seems to be very genuine, either she’s properly nice, or she’s acting all the time. I think she’s probably genuinely nice. She listened to what I told her before the programme, then she asked me questions about what I’d told her when we were on air, which was interesting, as they weren’t the questions my publicist had discussed with her.”

“Oh, is that how it works, your publicist tells them what to ask you?” Poppy asked.

“Not always, but we can’t assume the interviewer has read the book, so a publicist will feed them a few questions and quotes.”

“Has Tara fed some questions to Amy for us?” Belle asked.

“I hope so,” I replied, “if not she’ll have sent a list of bullet points, about the charity, your work on the streets, your plan for the book.”

“Will she ask about the past?” Belle asked.

“I’m sure she will, after all, your life on the streets is central to your charity work.”

“But ... she won’t ask me about, you know, Liam?”

“Oh gosh, no. This is going to be an easy interview. It’s an early evening show, people will be eating their dinner, or they’ll be sitting down to help their kids with their homework. They won’t touch on any tough topics.”

Belle let out a sigh, “that’s a relief, I don’t want to talk about him tonight.”

In the middle of the afternoon, it was about a 40-minute drive to the BBC’s studios at Portland Place. Belle and Poppy filled the time quizzing me about what kind of questions I thought they’d be asked.

Keith dropped us off outside All Souls Church, explaining he needed to rush to collect another guest for the show from Heathrow Airport. Belle was about to ask him who he was collecting, but Keith was already reversing back onto Langham Place.

Poppy and I knew who the other guest was, but we decided to leave it as a surprise for Belle. She will lose her mind when she finds out.

Broadcasting House, the BBC’s central London headquarters and studios, is a grand, art deco building situated in Portland Place in Westminster. Home to both BBC Television and most of their national radio networks, it’s a building I’ve visited many times over the years.

Belle held my hand tightly as we walked from All Souls to the BBC reception.

“I’m a bit nervous, dad,” Belle whispered as we neared the doors, “what if they ask me something I can’t answer?”

“Then I’ll answer it,” Poppy reassured her.

“But I’ll look like a dick if I don’t know the answer.”

“No, you won’t. If it’s something I think you don’t know, I’ll interrupt and answer for you. Anyway, it’s you who was the star of the show last time we were on telly,” Poppy laughed, “I was the one left looking like a numpty.”

Belle smiled at this, “I feel a bit bad being grumpy to DCI Williams, I did enjoy being on TV, even if he did ambush us.”

“See, you’re a natural,” Poppy reassured Belle as she pushed her sister forwards and through the revolving doors into the reception, “leave her to it,” Poppy whispered, “if she thinks she’s in charge she’ll be fine.”

I smiled. Poppy really was acting like Belle’s mother.

“Hi,” Belle said as she approached the reception / security desk, “I’m Belle and this is my sister Poppy, we’re here for the Tonight Show.”

The receptionist looked at her screen and tapped a few keys, “ahh yes, I have your passes ready. If you’ll just take a seat, Shaun will be here for you in a moment.”

Belle collected our passes and handed them out as we took our seats in the waiting area. It was about five minutes before anyone came for us. Belle jumped up as soon as she saw someone approach.

“Hi, I’m Belle!” she announced, thrusting her hand out.

“Yes, so I see,” he replied, “I’m Shaun. Have your bags been checked?”

“Not yet,” I answered, holding out my messenger bag which contained some literature about their charity, and an early proof of Poppy’s book.

“Just pass it through the X-Ray machine as we go past the desk,” Shaun replied. “So, have any of you been on TV before,” he asked as we walked down the long corridor to Studio One.

“Dad’s been on this show loads of times,” Belle told him, proudly, “he’s a famous author. We were on local TV when we got an award from the police.”

“Oh really, what did you get the award for?”

“Poppy told our mum, she’s a detective, a real one, not a private eye, Poppy told mum about two girls she’d seen murdered a couple of years ago, when we lived on the streets. Mum took some other police down to Swiss Cottage and they dug the girls up. We got awards for being brave, because the guys who did it weren’t very nice people.”

“Nice people don’t tend to go round killing girls,” Shaun replied, matter-of-factly.

Belle nodded, “true, because I’m nice and I’ve never killed anyone.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.”

“Poppy...”

“Also hasn’t killed anyone,” Poppy interrupted in case Belle was about to mention Mikey, not a topic for small talk before a TV interview.

“Yes, because you’re also nice,” Belle continued.

“Well, here we are,” Shaun told us as we reached the end of the corridor.

Belle stood on her tiptoes to look through the window in the double doors, she still couldn’t see properly, so Poppy lifted her up.

“Oh wow, it looks different in real life. I guess that’s the magic of TV, you hide all the lights and equipment and stuff.”

“Yep, that’s mostly what we do here, create an illusion. Anyway, why don’t you have a quick look around for a couple of minutes. You can sit on the sofa, but don’t touch anything else.”

Poppy was still holding Belle as she pushed the doors open. Belle was so excited she was practically running in mid-air before Poppy put her down.

Belle did a quick circuit of the studio, looking into corners, peering at the cameras, up at the lights.

“This is brilliant,” she gushed as she joined Poppy on the sofa.

I watched from the side of the set as they held hands, chatting about what they might be asked.

“Mmm, Poppy, could you come here please,” I whispered, “not you Belle, you stay exactly where you are.”

Poppy joined me and I pointed discreetly at Belle, Poppy followed my finger and cursed under her breath.

“Ahh, shit. She told me she was going to wear her blue gym knickers; she didn’t put any on. How could she forget?”

“You know Belle, when she’s excited, she forgets stuff.”

“I guess,” she sighed, “what do we do now?”

“I’ll go speak to Shaun. You say nothing to Belle. It’s not your fault, Poppy. I’m the parent here.”

“But...”

“But nothing, you go and sit with Belle while I see if there’s any small knickers around. Say nothing, I don’t want her to panic.”

“Oh, she’s XS or a size 6, that’s our size 6, not American 6.”

“Thanks,” I whispered as I turned for the door.

I looked back quickly as I closed the doors, Poppy was holding Belle’s hand again, they were chatting and pointing at things around the studio.

What did I do to deserve such perfect kids.

Ahh, no panties, almost perfect.

Shaun was walking back down the corridor as I emerged from the studio, “ahh, I’m glad I caught you,” I said as he approached, “it appears one of my daughters forgot to put her, erm, knickers on before she left the house. Too excited to think straight, you know. It wouldn’t be a problem, but she’s also wearing a short skirt, and that sofa is at an unforgiving height.”

“Ahh yes, I can imagine. Do you know what size she is? I’m sure I could get something from wardrobe.”

“Poppy says Belle is an extra small or a UK 6, not a US 6.”

A few minutes later Shaun reappeared with a pair of blue tights, “these should be fine, and they match Belle’s skirt.”

“Ahh, amazing, thank you. While you’re here, another quick favour. We’ve not told Belle who else is on the show. You see how excitable she is now; can you imagine how she’ll be once she finds out?”

“I see, so what do you propose?”

“Is the show completely live?”

“Not quite, there’s a 30 second delay, in case anyone says something inappropriate.”

“Perfect, I think Belle will behave herself if she finds out while she’s on camera, but maybe have someone ready with the bleep machine, just in case.”

“As you know, we normally announce the guests at the start of the show, before we bring the first guest on. We could make sure Belle doesn’t hear, then when we announce her at the end of Poppy and Belle’s interview, we can go straight to a video, so her reaction isn’t broadcast.”

“That would be brilliant, thank you.”

“You’ve been on the show before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, a few times.”

“So, you know the first guest stays on the sofa while we interview the second guest.”

“Ahh, I see where you’re going. I’m sure Belle will behave while she’s on camera, especially with Poppy at her side.”

“OK, if you collect the girls, I’ll show them to Amy, she can have a chat about the show, the questions she’ll ask, you know the drill. Then we’ll get them into make-up.”

“Belle will be pleased about that. She was looking forward to a visit to hair and make-up.”

“They don’t need much help there, just something to stop the lights reflecting on their cheeks. I’ll make sure nobody mentions the other guest to her.”

“Thank you,” I told him as I tossed the tights to Poppy.

“Why have you got those?” Belle asked.

“Lift your skirt up,” Poppy replied kindly.

“Whoops,” Belle replied, blushing, “my bad,” she added, taking off her Converse. She pulled up the tights, rolling the top as they were a bit long.

With her Converse back on she ran to one of the windows to look at her reflection.

“I like these tights; do you think they’ll let me keep them?”

“Wouldn’t you rather have a pair that fit properly?” Poppy asked by way of a reply.

“Yeah, but if I buy a pair, they won’t be official BBC tights.”

Poppy shrugged; you can’t argue with logic like that.

“Come on girls, Shaun wants you to meet Amy, then you’ve got an appointment with the make-up ladies.”

We followed Shaun back towards reception, then down another corridor to the production offices.

Amy Peters greeted the girls warmly. She sounded genuine when she told them she’d been looking forward to meeting them both.

“I’ve been following your story since your gala hit the Sunday papers before Christmas. I’m kind of jealous I didn’t get an invite.”

“Oh gosh, if we’d have known we’d have definitely given you one,” Poppy replied, devastated about disappointing Amy. “It was Marina who did most of the invites, we only had our family and a few friends we’d made.”

“Getting Marina involved was a work of genius, she knows all the important people.”

“She got herself involved,” Poppy replied, “I think she fancies our sister,” she added, before putting a hand in front of her mouth, “oh shit, I never said that, you can’t repeat it! Ever!”

“Relax, Poppy. I won’t tell anyone. This evening’s interview is about you two.”

“You won’t ask any hard questions will you,” Belle asked, a note of panic in her voice, “I don’t want to talk about my family, or why I ran away.”

“You mentioned a bit about that in an interview I read,” Amy replied.

“Yes, and there’s some more in the book, but I don’t want to talk about it on telly, not right now.’

The mention of the book prompted me to reach into my bag and hand over the sample copy, “this is a proof, it’s not the full book, there’s a lot of photos to be added, but the text is all there, if not accurately spelt, nor is it grammatically correct,” I smiled.

Amy sat down and started to leaf through the book as she peppered the girls with questions.

“So, I won’t ask about why either of you ran away...”

“Oh, I’m OK talking about it,” Poppy told her, “but I’m not sure if your viewers will want to hear the details while they’re eating.”

Amy flipped back to the start of the book, “you say here you ran away after your mum’s dealer tried to rape you.”

“Yep,” Poppy replied, “if you think people will be OK hearing that, I’m OK telling you.”

“I just want to start with Poppy finding me outside Paddington Station, although it didn’t involve marmalade sandwiches.”

Amy looked confused for a moment, then she laughed heartily, “oh that’s precious. I think this will be a fun interview tonight.”

“Nobody will tell me who’s on the show with us, we’re not doing the full show are we?”

“Oh no, we have a couple of guests, but one is a secret. You’re on first, then we’ve our weekly cooking segment, then the secret guest.”

“Cooking? That’s my absolute favourite pass-time!” Belle looked at Poppy, smiling, “well, my second favourite.”

“I thought so, that’s why Simon will be cooking a couple of simple, nutritious meals, you can help if you like.”

“Me, cooking on TV! Oh my god! This will be the best time ever...”

Belle dropped into a chair, breathing heavily.

“Do you want me to message Mr Newbold,” Poppy asked her quietly, “let him know you’ll be on TV?”

“Oh yes please, I’m not sure I can work my phone right now.”

“Who’s Mr Newbold?” Amy asked Belle.

“He’s my food tech teacher, he sometimes helps with the charity kitchen. He helps me work out how to scale a recipe up to feed hundreds of people.”

“So, you do the cooking at the kitchens?”

“I supervise the main kitchen, we use four commercial kitchens, one for each night we operate. I supervise on Friday and Saturday; Flower does Monday and Wednesday. One day we hope to have enough money to open our own kitchen, then we can operate seven days a week.”

Shaun knocked on the door, “sorry to interrupt, make-up are ready for the girls,”

“So, Belle, I’ll leaf through some more of your book, and we’ll keep the questions about the charity, why you started it...”

“Poppy started it, I just helped her. She’s a superhero, you need to talk to her most.”

“But you’re far better at talking than I am,” Poppy replied.

“Maybe answer a question each,” Amy replied, “anyway, off you pop to make-up, although neither of you need any help, you’re both beautiful.”

Belle jumped up, holding her ponytails out, “I hope they can give me a pair of bobs, I have so much trouble getting them even.”

After the girls had finished in make-up, we were directed to the green room, which was just to the side of the studio. Belle helped herself to a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of water, Poppy was too nervous to eat.