by Fiona Leitch
We reached the edge of the shoot and stood watching from a distance. They were filming outside this afternoon, as Zack had said earlier, and there was a huge number of cast and crew milling around. The film’s time period was somewhat confusing. Half the time they looked like something out of Jane Austen (that image of Tony dressed like Mr Darcy flashed across my mind again and I dismissed it in disgust, but not before dwelling for a few seconds on that six-pack…). It seemed to be a cross between Jane Austen and the Regency period, and King Arthur and his knights. In this scene there were soldiers on horseback, and they were wearing a weird mix of nineteenth-century dress and armour. That’s what they mean by a ‘fantasy period drama’, I thought. They bought a mixed job-lot of costumes off eBay and wanted to use them all…
We watched as a group of noblemen (including Tony, which made us both giggle) waited at the door of the house. Zack stood in front of them, his sword drawn, looking bored, as Sam Pritchard spoke to a group of actors on horseback a few metres away.
We took advantage of the momentary break in filming and moved closer to the action. I caught Tony’s eye and gave him a thumbs-up, but Zack saw me and thought I was looking at him, and he gave me a big cheesy grin and a wave. Daisy looked at me in amazement; her old mum was cooler than she’d thought. Tony, however, who had seen both my initial gesture and Zack’s response, was not quite as impressed, and actually looked quite put out. Oh my God, is Tony jealous? I thought. I wasn’t sure why that idea seemed surprising to me; after all, I had been just a teeny little bit jealous of Faith’s fawning all over Tony after he’d kicked her door down. Hadn’t I?
I was saved from these rather uncomfortable thoughts by the director striding decisively away from the horses and Lucy herding the two-legged actors into place. Daisy and I crept closer until we were right behind the camera.
The atmosphere had changed. It had gone from a group of slightly bored people standing around in daft costumes, tired of waiting, to the collective human equivalent of a coiled spring; everyone was suddenly alert and ready to go.
Lucy looked around. ‘Quiet on set!’ she called. I had a horrible premonition of my phone ringing and mucking up the shot, so I took it out and turned the ringer off, gesturing to Daisy to do the same. Lucy saw us and looked annoyed, but didn’t tell us to leave. ‘Roll sound!’
‘Speed!’ called a crew member in headphones, who I assumed was the sound guy. He nodded to another crew member holding a microphone on a long pole – the boom, I remembered hearing someone call it. The boom operator gave Lucy a thumbs-up.
‘Turnover!’ called Lucy.
‘Speed,’ said the camera operator. Ooh, this is exciting, I thought. The magic of the movies!
‘Mark it.’ Lucy nodded to a young girl holding a clapperboard. She stood in front of the camera.
‘Scene eight, take six, mark,’ she said, snapping the clapperboard shut and scuttling out of the way.
There was a pregnant pause, and then—
‘Action!’ called Sam. It was so cool it made me quiver a bit. Although I had absolutely no acting pretensions or desire to see myself on the big screen (unlike Tony and Debbie), I had, like so many others of my generation, grown up going to the pictures every week with my mates – no Netflix or streaming services for us. Seeing stuff on the big screen rather than the telly really did make it feel like there was some kind of magic at work, a magic that could transport you to faraway places, to past times or an imagined future, or into the life of a princess, or a gladiator, into a hero or a villain, or even a ghostbuster. The kind of magic that—
‘Cut!’ called Sam. What? Was it over already? The actors had barely moved! The director strode back over to the group on horseback, who had trotted forward a grand total of about three metres, waved his arms about a bit until they turned around and got back into position, and then headed back to his spot behind the camera operator. I could see that he was watching the action (such as it was) on a monitor, so he could see exactly what it would look like on screen.
Lucy went through the rigamarole with the sound, camera, and clapperboard girl one more time, we all held our breath again, and then—
‘Action!’
I made sure to pay attention this time, in case it was over in seconds again, but this time Sam was obviously happy as the actors on horseback made it all the way to the house before parting to reveal Jeremy on a white stallion. His perpetual air of blokey leather-jacket-and-jeans-ness had disappeared, to be replaced with an upright, regal bearing, and a cold, aloof expression. The riders halted and Zack stepped forward to greet him.
‘Your Maj—’
‘You!’ snarled Jeremy. He drew the sword from the scabbard at his side and held it out straight, the tip coming to rest millimetres from Zack’s throat. I couldn’t see Zack’s face from this angle – they would have to film the whole thing again, I realised, with the camera pointing towards Zack rather than the riders – but he didn’t flinch, just stood his ground.
‘You dare come to my house?’ demanded Jeremy. His voice was disdainful, imperious – the voice of a king, not Jezza the Liverpudlian scally who was only interested in women, football, and beer. ‘You, peasant!’ He addressed one of the extras, not taking his eyes off Zack for even a second. A scruffily attired, skinny boy stepped forwards, and I recognised him as being a trolley collector from the Co-op, which slightly spoilt the effect, but not for long because King Jeremy on horseback was mesmerising in his emotionless menace. ‘Prepare the stables. And tell my queen I am here.’
The peasant scuttled off and Jeremy remained staring coldly at Zack, the sword in his hand firmly pointed at his target and never wavering. Oh my God, chills! I thought.
‘Cut!’ said Sam, and immediately His Royal Highness disappeared and Jeremy the cheeky scouser came back to life. He lowered his sword and rubbed at his arm, then lent over to slap Zack on the back.
Daisy and I both let out a long breath.
‘Wowsers, who is that?’ she said, Zack almost forgotten.
‘Someone I clearly underestimated,’ I said.
Chapter Twelve
As interesting as it had been to watch the filming to start with (and as amazing a revelation as Jeremy Mayhew’s performance had been), the constant stopping and starting soon began to get a bit tedious. I once again thanked my lucky stars (and silently apologised to Gino) that events had conspired to get me out of being an extra and back to doing what I loved most. No, not eating or confusing myself over what passed (just about) as a love life, but cooking. I could honestly say that I would not have swapped places with anyone on that film shoot; they could keep their fame – although I wouldn’t have minded a bit of their fortune – if their working day consisted of standing around in uncomfortable clothing, and being forced to repeat the same lines, the same scenes, over and over and over again. An actor’s life was not for me.
We watched as Sam and the camera operator (or ‘director of photography’, as I heard someone refer to him) discussed where to put the camera next; they were going to re-shoot what we’d just seen them do (five times) from another angle, and then they’d shoot it again, from another angle, to get Zack’s reactions. Some of the actors dismounted and stretched, but Jeremy stayed on his horse, leaning forward to pat it and fuss with its mane. I saw the horse’s ears twitching as he talked to it; they’d obviously made friends.
Daisy was quite taken with the horses (and Zack, of course, although he hadn’t had the chance to do much other than stand around and look hunky while Jeremy acted the bejesus out of himself), but even she had to admit that she was getting bored, cold, and hungry, so we turned and headed back towards the warmth of the food truck. I’d found a couple of fold-up chairs tucked away, which Gino obviously used when he wanted to hide in the truck away from demanding customers, and thought we could sit in there and warm up until it was time for me to drop Daisy home.
We hadn’t got very far when there was a loud BANG! and a commotion behind us. We turned back just
in time to see Jeremy and his mount charging straight at us. The horse’s nostrils were flaring and it looked alarmed, but Jeremy was clearly a good horseman; he didn’t panic and just hauled back on the reins, all the while still talking to the frightened beast. I grabbed Daisy and threw her out of the way, then instinctively reached out to grab the bridle. I was lucky that the horse had begun to slow down, otherwise it probably would have dragged me along, but the combination of Jeremy’s surprisingly calm voice and my brute strength (I was pleased to see that I hadn’t gone completely soft) managed to bring the poor thing to a halt.
‘Oh my God, Mum!’ cried Daisy, rushing over to us. I preened for a moment, thinking she was going to tell me how brave I was, but— ‘That was so stupid! You could have been trampled!’ I deflated a bit, but at least it meant my daughter loved me.
‘Your ma’s a hero!’ protested Jeremy. I tried not to notice that he had a similar accent to Nathan. He slid down off the horse and held it firmly by the bridle, so I let go.
Lucy and Sam arrived at a run.
‘Are you okay?’ asked Sam. ‘What happened?’
‘Didn’t you hear that bang?’ Jeremy demanded angrily. ‘What the bloody hell was it?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Lucy. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ said Jeremy, calming down. ‘Just tell me it didn’t get caught on camera. I don’t want it on YouTube, me being rescued by the caterer.’ He looked at me. ‘No offence, love.’
‘None taken,’ I said, although there was a little bit taken.
‘Wow, you’d better make my movie that exciting!’ We all turned to look at the owner of the booming American voice behind us. I am rubbish with US accents, but I could place this one: pure New York, or ‘Noo Yoik’ as he no doubt would have said. He turned to me. ‘You sure got some balls on you, ma’am.’
I shrugged modestly. ‘It was nothing…’
‘Was it? Okay then.’
Daisy looked massively affronted but I shook my head: ignore it. Movie people.
‘Mike! When did you get here?’ said Sam. So this was the famous producer, Mike Mancuso, was it? I had to restrain myself from saying, ‘Hey, Mikey!’ like something out of Goodfellas; he looked and sounded like an extra from an early De Niro movie, but I wasn’t sure how he’d take it.
‘Got here just in time to catch the excitement,’ he said. ‘I hope this ain’t gonna hold up shooting.’
‘Of course not,’ said Sam, testily, and I got the feeling there had been words between them – probably about the hold-ups the saboteur had been causing. Had this been another act of sabotage? I wondered. It seemed unlikely to be a coincidence, but at the same time, there could have been no way of knowing that Jeremy’s horse would take fright; none of the other horses had bolted.
My question was soon answered as a technician rushed over to talk to Lucy and Sam.
‘The generator’s packed up,’ he puffed. Lucy groaned and Sam looked exasperated.
‘What? How did that happen?’ he asked, irritated.
‘I don’t know,’ said the technician. ‘All the fuses blew and it tripped the power breaker, so we need to reset the whole thing—’
‘That’s what went bang?’ I asked, and he gave me a ‘who-the-hell-are-you?’ look before nodding.
‘Well, what blew the fuses? Did you overload it or something?’ Sam was furious but the technician stood his ground.
‘No, we didn’t. In fact, I went and checked it myself this morning and made sure the bare minimum was plugged in, just in case … well, you know, what with this…’
‘This what?’ Mike looked puzzled.
‘This curse thing.’ The technician looked at him defiantly but withered under the man’s steady, no-nonsense New York stare. ‘I don’t believe in it or anything, but everyone’s saying—’
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ muttered Lucy under her breath. He bristled.
‘Yeah, I know it sounds daft but look at all the weird stuff that’s been happening! And now the generator. There’s absolutely no reason for the power breaker to trip; it should have been easily able to cope with what we had plugged in. If it’s not a curse, what’s causing it all?’
Wrong question, I thought. The real question is, WHO’S causing it all?
‘Is there really a curse?’ whispered Daisy. I shook my head.
‘Of course not. Let’s leave this lot to it.’ I took her arm and steered her away from the group, who had barely noticed us while we were standing right next to them, and sure as hell didn’t notice us leave.
I got a text from Jade’s mum, Nancy, agreeing to the cinema plan, and half an hour later the two of them came to pick up Daisy. I’d offered to pop out and drop her at their house, but Jade was very keen that her mum should come along to the shoot ‘to help me out’; I was certain it was nothing to do with the fact that Daisy had been texting her about seeing Zack Smith in the flesh, and that Jade had absolutely no interest in meeting him herself… I made Nancy a coffee and we sat at a picnic table, wrapped in our coats, while Daisy took Jade over to where they were filming, both giggling.
‘And so it begins…’ Nancy said, ominously. ‘They’ve discovered that not all boys are annoying little brothers who were only put on this earth to hide your Sylvanian Families and eat all the crisps.’
I laughed. ‘Life would be so much easier if they were.’
We had just finished our coffee and were about to go and round up our errant daughters when they came back anyway; filming had apparently ‘wrapped’ for the day by the time they’d got there, but they had spent the last twenty minutes talking to Zack and making a fuss of the horses. Both of them were flushed and giggling even harder than before. Nancy rolled her eyes at me and herded them into her car.
Again, I’d left food on the hot buffet for anyone who needed it, but the extras were heading home and the stars, who would normally have headed back to their hotel for an evening meal, were getting changed in their trailers, ready for Zack’s dinner party.
‘You done for the day?’ Tony made me jump. He stood at the counter, peering in as I cleaned down all the surfaces.
‘No, I’m helping Zack with his dinner party.’
Tony nodded. ‘Oh yeah, I’d forgotten. You and Zack…’
I snorted. ‘Don’t say it like that! Like there is a ‘me and Zack’. He’s at least fifteen years younger than me. It’d be like, like…’
‘Like me fancying Faith?’ he said, grinning. I felt uncomfortable. Was he saying he did fancy her? Or was he trying to wind me up because he knew I’d felt a bit … not jealous, not really, just sort of…
‘Well, she’s still a good-looking woman,’ I said carefully.
‘Yes, she is. She’s also old enough to be my mum,’ he said. I laughed.
‘Only just. Can you imagine her at the OAPs’ coffee morning?’
‘Now that sounds like a blast.’ Zack stood behind Tony, grinning. I saw Tony’s face tighten for a moment; oh yeah, he was jealous, all right. Was I pleased about that? Did a little thrill run through me at the thought of it? Now that Nathan was leaving (the emotional tummy-eel started up again), maybe I needed to look elsewhere…
Tony or no Tony, I still didn’t want to think about Nathan’s departure.
‘You ready to get your pinny on?’ I said to Zack. He nodded and clapped Tony on the back.
‘Thanks for lending me your girlfriend for the night,’ he said, and I nearly died on the spot. Tony’s face turned bright red.
‘She’s not— We’re just mates,’ said Tony stiffly. ‘And even if she was, it wouldn’t be down to me to ‘lend’ her to anyone.’ He turned back to me. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said, and walked away.
‘Oh dear,’ said Zack. ‘I think I upset your boyfriend…’ He grinned at me mischievously and I rolled my eyes.
‘He really isn’t my boyfriend,’ I said, ‘but don’t worry about it. Today seems to be the day for over-sensitive male friends. Now get in here and sort your bl
oody poisonous poisson out before you annoy anyone else.’
Chapter Thirteen
Zack turned out to be a surprisingly good cook. He methodically selected his chopping boards, lined up the knives he would be using (he had brought his own set, a very high-quality, expensive-looking set as well, better than mine), and got everything ready to hand before he started. He had disposable gloves and plastic bags ready to dump the fish waste in, so as not to contaminate anything. I was impressed.
I had turned on the radio, concerned that it might be a bit awkward being alone with a bloke I didn’t really know in such close proximity, but he was also surprisingly good company: chatty, but not too chatty, because we were both busy. And pretty soon we were both tapping our feet as we worked, then humming along to the music, and then eventually singing along at the tops of our lungs. This was my happy place, not standing around in front of a camera. Exciting food, good music, and friendly company. If Zack ever had enough of the movie business, I would offer him a job as my sous-chef.
He gave me a hand with peeling and chopping veg, not wanting to prepare the fish too early; fugu sashimi, being raw, needs to be freshly prepared and served quickly, so he didn’t want it sitting around on a plate for too long.
First I prepared the seasoning for spicy karaage chicken. Zack grated garlic and ginger for me, which I mixed together with some of the sake rice wine and soy sauce, then plenty of freshly ground black pepper to give it a really good kick. I cut some boneless chicken thigh into bite-sized chunks, then tossed it in the marinade and left it to chill in the fridge for an hour; it wouldn’t take long to fry, so again we wanted to leave the cooking of it until Zack’s guests were assembled and ready to eat. I mixed up some more of the marinade for Kimi, this time leaving out the sake, and tossed in some chunks of tofu.
