Patience is a virtue

18/ 1/2008

NORMALLY, working at Channel M keeps me busy. Television doesn’t make itself and almost every story on the news is filmed that day from scratch.

Although you might only see a couple of minutes on the programme, we film a lot more. We travel around to get material and interview people and then edit it before it’s broadcast.

However, there are occasions when I’m not busy.

I spent four days last week in Chester at the town’s crown court, waiting for a jury to make up their mind about five teenagers accused of murdering what tabloid journalists (and nobody else) would call a have-a-go hero. My thumbs had rarely been so twiddled.

As I write this, the jury is still out. When a jury goes off to reach its verdict, there’s not a lot to do. They’ve heard all the evidence (in this case more than five weeks’ worth). The court is adjourned and journalists, lawyers, the accused and everyone else just has to wait.

No jury is like any other. They’re completely unpredictable.

And no matter what, journalists have got to be there when the verdict is delivered, otherwise they’d miss the story. If we nipped off for a few minutes, sod’s law says that’d be when the jury came up with the goods.

Anyway, I had to while away the hours as the jury deliberated drinking expensive, bad coffee in the court café with journalists from rival broadcasters, the press and agencies (oh, and some of the accused’s relatives – which could only lead to some rather awkward conversations). There is only so much time you can spend talking to other journalists (they’re a weird bunch), doing the crossword or sending ‘I’m so bored’ texts to your pals.

It’s hard not to feel guilty when you’re meant to be at work but not able to actually do anything, So I wrote and rewrote my script and even filmed guilty and not guilty versions of the story – to assuage the guilt, to kill time and to prepare the story.

Eventually, PG Wodehouse came to my rescue. If I read Pelham Grenville’s work for the rest of my life, I’d still believe I’d spent my life wisely. So I read and read.

Towards the end of last year, I spent three days waiting for a jury at Bradford Crown Court to make up their mind on Ronald Castree. I am a jury jinx.

Eventually, they decided he had murdered Rochdale schoolgirl Lesley Molseed back in 1975. But by then I’d gone on holiday. So my colleague Ben Bland got the story and the glory after popping up to Bradford for a mere trice.

Anyway, it’s not just court reporters who spend a lot of their time in limbo, waiting before they can actually do some work. A lot of people spend their entire careers just waiting.

There have been a number of stories about firemen employed by smallish airports.

The airports need firefighters on permanent stand-by for obvious reasons. Most of them have probably done stacks of exercises and the like. But some get their pension and a golden carriage clock without actually fighting a flame in anger.

And I suppose that particular phenomenon should really be filed up ‘Jolly Good Things’. Fires at airports are generally frowned upon.

There are others who just sit and wait for something before they can do some real work.

Paramedics work hard. But there must be occasions when nobody needs an ambulance and they’re waiting about for a 999 call.

In politics, Gordon Brown whiled away his time writing budgets and the like before Tony Blair decided to leave No 10 and spend more time with his wallet. David Cameron must be constantly poised. He knows an election is not likely to be called soon. But he has to be ready, just in case.

And then, of course, there’s Prince Charles. Chatting to azaleas and criticising modern architecture can kill a lot of time. But, ultimately, he’s just waiting, too.

Richard Butt edits Channel M’s early evening news – every weeknight from 5pm