Cherringham--Final Cut

by Neil Richards

  Beneath the towering wall of the castle, she could count two — three — inflatable boats, RIBS with powerful outboards gliding back and forth along the fast-running river. Men on ladders were working on the castle battlements.

  Everywhere she looked seemed to be filled with frenzied activity– as if time was running out …

  “Who are you?” came a voice from behind her.

  She turned to see a large man in a puffa jacket, carrying a radio.

  “I’m Sarah Edwards,” she said. “Doing some PR work with Sophie.”

  “Really? She didn’t say anything about you,” said the man. “And you’re not on the call sheet.”

  “Don’t worry, Fraser; I can vouch for her,” came Sophie’s voice from along the riverbank. Sarah spun around and saw her friend striding toward her across the grass.

  “She’s not on the call sheet,” said Fraser again, as if Sarah wasn’t there.

  “Sorry darling, bit of a late addition,” said Sophie smiling. “Forget my own head one day …”

  Sarah watched her put a gentle hand on Fraser’s jacket — just enough to disarm him.

  “Won’t happen again, Fraser, promise …”

  The gruff crew member seemed to soften slightly.

  Then Sophie turned and put her arm through Sarah’s. “Come on Sarah — I’ll show you round.”

  Sarah allowed herself to be led away. She could hear Fraser behind her muttering to himself — but as she turned back to look at him, he was already walking briskly to another part of the set.

  “Sorry about Fraser,” said Sophie. “He’s not really been house-trained.”

  “What does he do?”

  “First assistant. Runs the roost, you might say.”

  “Stressful job I suppose.”

  “You’re far too forgiving, Sarah,” said Sophie. “He’s an arrogant bastard, always has been.”

  “Makes me glad I work for myself — not sure I could handle this movie hierarchy …”

  “Ah, but the rewards, darling, the rewards …” said Sophie with an enigmatic smile as they stopped at the river edge opposite the jetty.

  Sarah looked at her carefully. “Don’t tell me you and Karl …?”

  “Ooh — lips are sealed, darling,” said Sophie. “Now — shall I tell you what’s going to happen tonight?”

  “Well if you’re not going to tell me the real story, then maybe you’d better tell me the fiction.”

  “I think fantasy’s a better word for it,” said Sophie. “Now then. I assume you’ve noticed Cromwell’s army across the river there?”

  “Hard not to!” said Sarah.

  “And up there in the castle is the King and his army. Tonight we’re shooting the big battle at the end of the movie, when Lady Ann has to choose sides.”

  “So Zoë’s going to actually be in the battle?” said Sarah.

  “Bang in the middle of it,” said Sophie. “The idea is that she’s had a big bust-up with Cromwell in the tent over there …”

  Sophie pointed across the rushing waters, and Sarah could just see a tent beyond the soldiers, with pennants flying.

  “So she rides through the battle on her not-so-trusty steed down to the jetty there — hops in that little rowing boat, crosses the river, climbs the castle wall — and leaps straight into the arms of her true love Charles I.”

  “Zac Portman? Who can blame her?” said Sarah.

  “Exactly.”

  “So is there a stunt woman — to do the action stuff?”

  “Ah well here’s the thing,” said Sophie. “Young Zoë prides herself on doing all the stunts herself. Horseback, rowing, stage fighting — that’s her thing.”

  “So she’s actually going to do the ride, then cross the river, and climb the wall?”

  “Yep.”

  “With explosions going on all around her?”

  “The most explosions ever in a single scene in a British film.”

  “But isn’t that incredibly dangerous anyway — even without all the accidents that have been happening?”

  “Total madness,” said Sophie. “But amazingly good copy. And the explosives team is very professional, very experienced. This scene alone will sell the whole movie. No matter how awful the rest of it is to watch.”

  Sarah shook her head.

  “It sounds crazy,” she said.

  “Oh, it gets worse,” said Sophie. “Our talented, innovative director has got permission to lay charges in the river. So as sweet Lady Ann rows her little boat gently down the stream, it’s going to be like a World War Two naval battle down there.”

  “Hang on. Aren’t you at all worried that something bad’s going to happen?” said Sarah.

  “You know what they say, darling,” said Sophie.

  “All publicity is good publicity …” said Sarah.

  But before Sophie could reply, a helicopter appeared at speed from behind the castle. Sarah watched it as it roared overhead, made a tight turn and landed in the field near all the trucks.

  “And that’ll be the studio execs,” said Sophie. “Which means I’m back on the clock.”

  “They coming to watch the scene?” said Sarah, still watching the helicopter as its rotor blades slowed.

  “Don’t want to miss their money going up in smoke.”

  Sarah saw the helicopter door open … and Ludo the producer climbed out. Behind him, two men in suits and a smartly dressed woman followed.

  “She’s going to regret those heels,” said Sarah.

  Sophie laughed as she walked ahead: “Pair of Jimmy Choos in every port, I expect. Why don’t you grab a tea and I’ll find you later,” said Sophie, looking at her watch. “Last chance — we’ll be shooting in an hour.”

  Sarah watched her head back towards the catering truck and then followed.

  On the way, she checked her phone.

  No message from Jack.

  So no luck identifying the culprit.

  Maybe it was going to be down to her.

  But right now — she didn’t have a clue.

  It could be anyone on the crew. Any of the actors. Or the producers.

  Or even Zoë herself.

  Time to see what the kids had been getting up to.

  She walked up the gentle grassy slope towards the makeup trucks.

  18. A Different Angle

  Jack sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

  He’d lost count of how many times he’d seen this scene: Zoë running across the room; Karl embracing her; the dialogue playing out …

  There must have been twenty takes at least, all from the same position, although about half way through the morning, the camera appeared to have moved a couple of feet to one side.

  Apart from the actors, the only people he’d seen in shot were Alphonso and occasionally Fraser. And Ludo turned up once to say something to the actors.

  But otherwise — just guesswork as to who else was in the room.

  Until Zoë collapsed in the last take …

  The cameraman had instinctively followed her fall so the shot had all the crew in frame — and he’d kept shooting for another minute at least.

  Wait a second, Jack thought.

  Jack froze the shot and leaned close to the screen: he could see the camera crew, Fraser, Alphonso — and hair and makeup people.

  But that was all. Nothing to help him work out who might have tampered with Zoë’s flask.

  “That’s everything on the A camera,” said Wally. “You want to see B camera?”

  “Sure,” said Jack. “Why not?”

  He took a sip of coffee while he waited for Wally to load the files and then, when he saw Wally nod, he took control of the knob on the desk and started to roll through the takes.

  Scene 48, shot 2, take 1, B camera — read the electronic clapperboard at the front of the shot.

  Just another twenty nine takes to go, thought Jack. He looked at his watch: 8 p.m.

  Running out of time …

  *


  Sarah stood with Daniel and Chloe by the side of the rushing river, behind the cameras. She looked around.

  The sun was nearly setting behind Pelham Hill, its orange light blazing onto the Puritan army lined up in the fields across the river. Above the castle, she could see Royalist flags flying — and troops lined the battlements. The brass muzzles of the cannons flashed in the sun.

  And everywhere … crew members made the last adjustments — to props, horses, cameras …

  And the explosives, Sarah guessed.

  “Is it just me,” said Chloe, “or do you guys feel … scared?”

  “I know what you mean,” said Daniel. “It’s like the minutes before a big game on TV. When the players run out of the tunnel …”

  “Look,” said Chloe. “Here’s Zoë!”

  Sarah turned and looked up towards the makeup trucks. Zoë was being led down the path to the river — the centre of a small crowd of hair, makeup assistants, sound crew, all fussing around her.

  She looked amazing — and walking slowly — focused, calm. The role called for her to be disguised as a Puritan soldier, in leather trousers and jacket, but anyone could have seen her femininity — and beauty — shining through.

  “Wow,” said Chloe as she passed. Sarah saw Zoë turn her head slightly and give them a quick nod — and then she was gone, in the care of Fraser who led her down to one the waiting RIBs.

  “Where are they taking her?” said Daniel.

  “Across the river and then over to that big tent in the meadows,” said Sarah. “Once she’s in place — the battle can start.”

  “She’s like the queen of the battlefield,” said Chloe. “Mum — if I carry on doing drama — I could be just like her, couldn’t I?”

  “You could, love,” said Sarah. “Lot of work, and long hours …”

  But knowing what she did now — Sarah hoped her daughter might find a less stressful way to find fulfilment …

  Being a movie star wasn’t all about moments like this.

  She reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone and texted Jack.

  Anything?

  She waited. But there was no reply.

  *

  Jack stared hard at the monitors, willing the camera to shoot just a little wider.

  The shot was on the move — tracking Zoë as she ran across the chamber — and the first frames were tantalisingly close to the corner of the room where Zoë’s bag and flask had stood.

  But take after take went by, and still the shot just wasn’t wide enough.

  He clicked the mouse again and loaded the next take.

  Scene 48, shot 2, take 17, B camera — read the clapperboard.

  The shot began, exactly as it had before — but then the movement suddenly stopped.

  ‘Camera B still running’ he heard on the audio.

  And now the shot swivelled round, to include the main camera and crew, then pivoted for a while and showed just the polished wooden floor of the medieval chamber.

  Jack hit the pause button and turned to the assistant editor who sat next to him filling in a crossword puzzle.

  “Wally — look!” said Jack. “What’s happening?”

  Jack saw Wally put down the puzzle and stared at the screen.

  “Hmm. Dunno. I haven’t really looked at all these takes yet.”

  Jack watched as Wally leaned forward and hit the play button.

  He rolled the scene forward, then back.

  “Hmm, interesting,” said Wally. “There must have been some kind of problem. See, if you look at the shot from the main camera — it’s in a slightly different place. Let me look at the notes …”

  While Wally scrabbled around for the paperwork, Jack rolled the scene back and forth.

  The camera now began to pan the room — almost randomly …

  “Okay, got it,” said Wally, reading the notes. “Seems they were getting flare from the metal window frame on that camera , so they moved back a foot.”

  “But that’s not all they did,” said Jack, freezing the frame again. “You see?”

  Jack saw Wally lean forward and peer at the image.

  “My old friend Gary,” said Jack.

  “The prop man,” said Wally. “They must have got him on set to try and fix it first.”

  Jack rolled the scene forward in slow motion. The familiar figure could clearly be seen crossing the set to the window.

  “See he sprays it first with his can of anti-flare?” says Wally. “Looks like he’s putting some gaffer tape on it too.”

  Jack kept rolling the scene. On screen, Gary turned back and stood talking to the first assistant.

  “Doesn’t look like it worked, though.”

  “Nope,” said Jack. “All right — so they decide to move the main camera. But just in case they need him again — you see — he goes and sits down against the wall.”

  “Oh yes,” said Wally. “Right by that flask.”

  “Right by that flask,” repeated Jack. “And if we freeze it … Now …”

  Jack stopped the shot with Gary on the very edge of frame.

  And before the camera moved off him, Jack could see his hand slowly moving to the flask on the ground next to him — and sliding it closer to his side.

  And suddenly it was clear who had taken the flask …

  …who had poisoned Zoë.

  When Jack had met Gary in the back of the prop truck, the prop man had said he’d not been needed on set the whole morning.

  He’d lied.

  And there was only one reason he’d lie.

  If he had something to hide.

  Jack took out his phone to ring Sarah. It was eight o’clock. There wasn’t much time.

  Sarah could alert Fraser. Stop Zoë going in the boat.

  But her phone rang through to answer.

  Jack didn’t stop to think — or even to thank Wally.

  He leaped from the chair, grabbed his coat and car keys — and raced for the door.

  19. Casualties of War

  Sarah put her hands over her ears.

  The explosions were so loud — it was like being at the very centre of a fireworks display. She looked at Chloe and Daniel: they were loving every minute.

  “Awesome!” said Daniel, giving her a big grin.

  Both kids knew they didn’t need to worry about talking during the shot — the sound for this scene would all be laid on afterwards.

  And what an amazing scene it was.

  As Sarah took in the view across the river — it was like looking back in time to the English Civil War. Scores of cannons kept firing at the castle; hundreds of soldiers were firing muskets; plumes of water rose in the air from cannon balls landing in the river; and from the battlements of the castle, where Royalist flags flew bravely, answering musket and cannon fire roared.

  Sarah could see cameras everywhere, all grabbing the action. And at the heart of the crew, Alphonso and Fraser strode, constantly talking into the radios and gesticulating, like conductors leading an unruly orchestra.

  “Hey Mum!” shouted Chloe, her words barely reaching Sarah amid the tumultuous explosions. “Is that Zoë?”

  Sarah looked across the river.

  Through the billowing smoke, she could just see a lone white horse and rider in the far meadows, galloping fast through the massed ranks of the Puritan army, hurdling bales of straw, campfires, boxes of ammunition.

  Heading for the river.

  And in the saddle Sarah saw Zoë, pressing herself flat, her head buried in the mane, her hands on the reins urging the horse on, faster, faster …

  In just a few minutes she’d be at the riverside, ready to leap in the boat and row to the castle.

  What had happened to Jack?

  She reached in her pocket and pulled out her phone.

  Oh no! Missed call!

  In the crashing noise of the battle, she hadn’t heard it ring.

  She turned and ran towards the car park and crouched down behind one of the trucks so she could he
ar.

  Then dialled Jack’s number. It answered immediately.

  “Sarah!”

  “Jack — I’m so sorry, the noise—”

  “Listen — can you hear me? It’s Gary! He’s behind it!”

  “Gary?”

  “The prop man — you have to stop him — stop Zoë. I’m just minutes away—”

  “The prop man …”

  Then Sarah remembered the man by the rowing boat.

  “Jack — God, he was working on the boat — Zoë’s boat—”

  “Stop him — Sarah — you have to stop the scene!”

  Then the line cut out — the signal gone.

  Sarah put her phone away and stood up, her heart racing.

  She looked down at the river. From here she couldn’t see how close Zoë was to the riverbank and the boat. But she could see Fraser.

  And she knew the First Assistant was her only hope.

  She ran towards him …

  *

  Jack hurled the Mercedes through the gates of Combe Castle, steering into the skid as the tyres hit the gravel drive, then flooring the throttle as the car straightened.

  Ahead of him, down in the valley, he could see the whole scene lit up in the dusk by explosions and fires.

  He had to get to the riverbank — fast.

  But he mustn’t get caught up in that chaos.

  Then he saw two figures on the side of the river — running away from the crowds and the castle towards one of the RIBs moored on the riverbank.

  He recognised Sarah — and Fraser Haines.

  The Mercedes was a rental. Had to have plenty of insurance.

  The field was pretty flat. And it was downhill all the way.

  It was a no-brainer.

  Jack flicked the wheel and the car leaped from the drive onto the grassy slope like it was a thoroughbred born to race on the flat …

  A long, long time ago he’d been busted a rank for chasing a perp across the grass of Central Park in a squad car.

  But here? Hell — what did he have to lose?

  And after all — this was the movies, wasn’t it?

  *

  Sarah jumped into the front of the RIB while Fraser released the catches on the outboard.

  He might be an arrogant bastard, she thought. But he’s a brave one.

  When she’d grabbed him and told him what Jack said on the phone, he’d taken only a few seconds to make his mind up — and then to act.