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THE action starts in a plush, metropolitan hotel long after the lunchtime rush. The restaurant is now empty with the exception of a table of four where a well-spoken, white-haired gentleman is holding court. His back is turned so his words are lost to the casual observer but he is telling a tale. He's a big mover and shaker in the British film and television industry and his fellow diners are listening intently.
Suddenly, the frame goes hazy. It's 1960. We see a precocious young boy in an Edinburgh classroom. The lesson is English - his favourite - and he's becoming increasingly animated as he reads out the fantastical story he has written. "I don't know where he gets it all from," says the English teacher, smiling.
The image fades out and back in. Here he is again. It's the mid-1960s. He's a teenager now, still at school but working as a newspaper copy boy despite his mother's hopes for a university education. He's at a football match, phoning in copy. He's slightly miffed because the words are those of the football reporter and he thinks he can do better. In fact, truth be told, he reckons he ought to be writing the front page story. It's our first hint of the ambition which will propel him to the top of the notoriously fickle television industry.
But wait, keep watching. He must have made it because it's a decade later and the face is familiar but now he's all seventies hair and tight T-shirt - a children's TV presenter on Magpie. He's smiling wryly because he always wanted to go into serious journalism but an opportunity knocked and he's now got eight million kids as fans and gets invited to open shops.
Douglas Rae, now 65, has always loved a good yarn. Even as he runs through his early career his narrative verve ropes you in. Now as managing director of Ecosse Films he brings to life arresting stories penned by others.
He brought Mistresses, a series following the love lives of four thirty-something friends, to British television screens (it's now heading Stateside, snapped up by US network ABC) and was the behind the TV gift which kept on giving in the shape of...




