The Madison Interview

By Ted Bun

Jennifer Archer was an ordinary, if academically gifted, young, woman when she won a prestigious Madison Scholarship.

At the award dinner, she was introduced to Alan, the son and heir of the Madison dynasty. and discovered they would be studying on the same campus.

At the end of the year, Alan disappears.

Jennifer is now a cub journalist driven by dreams of prizes and fame.

Then Alan returns, traumatised. The world wants his story ... but he will only give the Madison Interview to one journalist.

So why has he chosen Jennifer Archer, a girl he has only met a few times?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edward Yeoman
• Release date: Oct 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215703632

Book preview

The Madison Interview

Ted Bun

September 2022

The Madison Interview

Published by Edward Yeoman

11160 Caunes Minervois France

www.tvhost.co.uk

Copyright © 2022 Ted Bun 

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by British copyright law. For permissions contact: [e-mail]

Cover by Edward Yeoman

ISBN:

Imprint: Independently published

Dedication

To 

Valerie Yeoman

It may not have been a desert island

It may have been longer than five years

The joy was still the same

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Other Books by Ted Bun

About Ted Bun

Chapter 1

Before I switch on my computer and stare at the blank document in front of me, I have to decide where to begin this story. This is my chance to establish myself high in the pantheon of newspaper journalists.

Alright, that might sound a bit pretentious. Except, that as long as I can get the tone right, this scoop will establish me as a journalist of note.

I have just conducted an exclusive interview. One that most other newspaper people would have sold their souls, and probably the souls of their nearest and dearest, to have had access to. Yet I, little more than a cub reporter, had been the single journalist granted an interview.

‘Where should I begin?’ I asked myself the question again. The easy answer is at the beginning of the story. Although I keep thinking I should start at the beginning of my involvement in the story?

It might be best to fill in a little history here, just to help explain why I am struggling with the start of my article.

*****

This is Jennifer Archer. Miss Archer is the first journalism major to qualify for a Madison Scholarship. I have no recollection of who it was that introduced me to the slim, athletic, young man.

Where will you be studying, Miss Archer? Were the first words Alan Madison, scion of the Madison dynasty, said to me.

I have a place at the Western School of Journalism, part of the University of Southern Sacramento, Mr. Madison. I felt intimidated by this good-looking man. He was dressed in a smart casual ensemble that made my specially bought dress look frumpy. Mind, that probably had something to do with the frock being worn by a short, slightly overweight, teenager in glasses.

Then, Miss Archer, you are going to have to call me Alan if we should bump into each other on campus. I’ll be studying at SoSac too. He had smiled and moved on to meet the next beneficiary. There were a dozen Madison Scholarships, in this the twelfth year of the program.

*****

I only encountered Alan Madison three times in that first year I was at Southern Sacramento. Once we were both in the queue for the library book checkout. The next time was at a bar, that was crowded ahead of a show.

Both times he had opened the exchange. I was flattered that he remembered who I was and was prepared to acknowledge me. The first time in the library. He tapped me on the shoulder as I stood in the queue with an armful of books.

Hi, Miss Archer, how are finding things?

Hello, Alan, I look in 070. That’s news media, journalism and publishing, I waved one of the books I was borrowing.

Very funny, Miss Archer.

Jennifer, or Jenny, while we are on campus, please, Mr — I remembered his words to me, even if he had forgotten the conversation.

Alan, always Alan please, Jenny! He looked around, nobody appeared to be paying any attention. A security thing!

The second time, he introduced me to Constance, the daughter of a Senator. She had been civil, chilly but civil, for the two minutes it took her to wheel him away towards the glamour set.

The third time I spent nearly an hour with Alan. He was the rising star of middle-distance running, the golden boy of the Southern Sacramento University’s track and field team. I was the reporter from the SoSaCampus News that drew the assignment to interview him.

  That hour was mainly spent with him talking about his ‘unorthodox’ training regimen. What he described was a schedule that saw him doing very little actual running.  Why would I want to risk injury and damage to my feet, knees and ankles?

It made some sort of sense to me. No? No running at all?

Limited running, under the guidance of my gait analyst. He could see I was lost. We concentrate on getting my stride even, smooth and as efficient as possible. I spend time swimming for leg strength and stamina. Then there is a lot of low intensity, high repetition work in the gym for more stamina, body sculpting and weight control. I run less than twenty miles a week on the track.

That sounds like a lot of running to me!

Many middle-distance runners are doing ninety or more miles a week. He paused. Often, they will have weights attached to ankle bands in the hope of increasing their strength. I don’t.  Can you imagine what that does to your joints?

I was head down, frantically scribbling notes as fast as I could. So much so that I hadn’t seen the big smile on his face until he stopped talking. Even then it was several seconds before I looked up and pushing my dark hair away from my face, saw his grin.

Sorry. He suddenly looked bashful. I shouldn’t have ribbed you in that way. You are only trying to complete an assignment. It is not like having one of the tabloid hacks trying to twist everything I say to suit some agenda.

I crossed out most of what I’d just written. So, what is the truth?

I train most mornings and evenings for about an hour and a half. That is split between track and road running, the gym and technical training. I swim to cool down and relax my muscles.

Then you take journalism majors up the garden path for fun. I finish my notes.

Sorry, Jenny, I will make it up to you one day, I promise.

****

I wrote an article about a young man, who despite having all the advantages of immense wealth, was dedicated to his sport. About how he adhered to a strictly regimented training program. How he committed hours of his potential leisure time to the pursuit of excellence, while all the time maintaining a sense of fun.

I suppose it was the tone of that article and Alan’s promise that got me this break.

Chapter 2

This week was the first time I had encountered Alan Madison in person since that interview. In between that hour-long meeting and now, over five years have passed by.

*****

The story of the Madison heir’s disappearance was in the papers at the time. Big headlines and lots of column inches for several days. It could have run longer. Then the story of the President’s lack of judgement took over the news agenda and dominated the front pages for the rest of the month.

My understanding, based on a vague memory from having read the stories in the papers, is that rather than spending the vacation as a Summer Camp Counselor, as I had done, Alan set off to trace a bit of family history. He took a flight to Darwin in Northern Australia, hired a fully crewed motor launch, set sail and disappeared without trace.

*****

Mineral Magnate Madison Found or