by Natasha West
Penny was still waiting.
‘Do you remember who it was?’
I did know who it was. But I didn’t want to talk about him right now.
‘No’ I shrugged. ‘Not a clue.’
Chapter Six
Three anxious days had passed and now here it was. Thursday. My meeting with Zara Powell and her producer Peter Bradley at the offices of Echo Films, their company, was happening in a couple of hours.
I’d tried not to think too much about the meeting in the last few days, not wanting to get too excited. What if this wasn’t as big a deal to Echo Films as it was to me? What if I was just one of a number of projects they were considering? That’s not how David had put it, but he’d wanted me to feel good about this meeting, to further the chances of the movie happening. He’d explained to me that although selling the rights to my book probably wouldn’t make me rich, a movie would almost certainly boost my book sales and my profile, two things I needed right now.
So despite David’s hyperbole, I was being cautious. Who knew how much Zara Powell really wanted this? There were certainly plenty of other more successful books from more established authors that she could choose.
That was the mantra I chanted to myself as I got ready for the meeting, going for smart casual. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, don’t get your hopes up, don’t get your hopes up.’ By the time I got to Echo Films, I was wondering why I was even bothering to go at all.
Echo Films was not an impressive office. It was one drafty bare room in a block of offices to rent, half of them empty. I’d been buzzed in by intercom and I was now sitting on what seemed like a chair that had been fished out of an abandoned school hall. Peter Bradley, or Pete as he had asked to be called, was making tea from a travel kettle perched on a small fridge in the corner.
He was a small guy, a dishevelled forty, dressed like he was still in his teens, in a hoody and busted converse. It wasn’t what I’d expected when I’d heard the title ‘producer’. I’d imagined some slick wheeler-dealer type. But I was glad he wasn’t like that. It was comforting. He was just a normal guy.
He turned and handed me the tea.
‘Zara will be here any second. She just texted me to say she’d been caught in some traffic and she’s absolutely furious she’s not here to greet you.’
‘Oh, that’s fine. I’m sure she’s very busy.’
Pete shook his head.
‘Not too busy to meet you. She’s very excited about it.’
I was stunned.
‘About meeting me?’
‘Yeah. She loved your book. Talked about it non-stop for a week after she read it. Said from the start it would make a great film.’
I actually started to blush.
‘Oh, errm, that’s really sweet of her to say that.’
Pete started to laugh.
‘Nothing sweet about it. She had her business head on. She knows a good story when she reads it.’
Before I could respond, the door flew open and in strode Zara Powell. I was shocked to see she was around her mid-twenties. I’d thought she would be considerably older than me, already having directed a feature film. She was a redhead, petite, an easy smile. Her face had a lot of character, her crystal blue eyes sparkled with obvious intelligence. Yes, I admit, my first thought was that she was cute. But it was a brief thought that I pushed aside.
‘Hi, I’m Zara.’ She sat down, catching her breath. ‘Those stairs, my god. I took them two at a time to get here and I’m still late.’
‘I’ve only been here a couple of minutes’ I lied.
‘Really?’
Pete handed her a cup of tea.
‘She’s being nice, she’s been here for at least ten.’
She shook her head at me.
‘Don’t be nice to me, I don’t deserve it, leaving you waiting like this.’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘I think you should. You’re the talent here and we’re lucky to get you into our dank little office, but here you are. And thank god. Because I can’t wait to talk about Many Moons Ago. I love it. Love it.’
‘Easy, Zara’ Pete interjected. ‘Don’t be such a fangirl, you’ll scare the woman off.’
Zara held her hands up, mea culpa style.
‘You’re right. I’ll pull my enthusiasm back a bit.’
I’d felt shy when I’d walked in the door but there was something about the pair of them, Zara and Pete, that eased my nerves. They were easy people to be around. Particularly Zara. She was confident. I’d always liked to be around confident people. They seemed to shine just a little bit brighter than everyone else. And when their attention was on you, it was easy to feel special. I could tell straight away that Zara was probably good at making people feel special. It was no doubt an asset for a film director. I wasn’t going to let it go to my head.
‘So, OK, I want to be honest with you. I really want to option the book.’
I waited for a ‘but’.
‘But…’
There it was.
‘…I’d like you to be honest. What are the chances of you letting us adapt your story?’
Wait, what? She thought she had to sell the idea to me?
‘I mean, obviously, we’re small right now. New. And I don’t know if you’ve seen Comet’s Tail-’
I nodded heartily.
‘Yes, I have. I thought it was fantastic.’
Zara stopped dead and it was the first time I’d seen a chink in her armour. She looked slightly embarrassed. It was endearing.
‘Well, that’s nice. Thanks.’
I decided that if Zara wasn’t going to play hard to get here, neither was I.
‘Look, if you want the book, it’s yours.’
Her mouth dropped open.
‘Don’t you want to hear our pitch first?’
‘Yeah!’ added Pete. ‘I had a hard sell ready to go.’
I shrugged.
‘Nope. I liked your movie. You like my book. That’s good enough, isn’t it?’
They exchanged looks of amazement with one another. Had they really thought I’d put up a fight?
Zara turned back to me and smiled.
‘OK, then, Penny. Let’s make a movie.’
She held out her hand and I shook it, my stomach doing summersaults. This was really going to happen.
Chapter Seven
I walked into the bar, looking for Penny. It was a casual place, home to a young, creative crowd. It was a place for artists of all kinds, mostly out-of-work ones. There was no doubt many people in this room were involved in some heavy networking disguised as casual chit chat.
A wave caught my eye and I saw Penny was already seated in a booth with a middle aged guy and a young red headed woman. They had to be the director/producer team that had agreed to make Penny’s book into a movie a few weeks ago. After various meetings about what they wanted to do with the book, as well as some legal back and forth between Echo Films and Penny’s agent, the contract had been signed today and I’d been invited to the celebratory lunch. I wasn’t sure if it was really appropriate for me to be there, but Penny had been enthusiastic about having me meet ‘Pete and Zara’. She seemed to get on well with the pair and I suppose she wanted to share that with me, so I’d agreed to come.
Penny stood as I approached and kissed me.
‘This is my girlfriend, Julia’ she announced to the table. Pete stood and leaned over to shake my hand. Zara simply gave a small wave. I saw her eyes slip quickly up and down me. It was subtle, but I caught it. Because I gave her the same quick assessment. She was a good looking girl. Not Penny beautiful, but certainly attractive.
‘So this is the famous Julia?’ she said. It sounded friendly, but something about it made me think it wasn’t.
‘Famous for what?’ I asked dryly.
Penny interjected, a tad nervously I thought.
‘I’ve been telling these guys about your book. How talented you are.’
I sat down and Penny handed me a gl
ass of red.
‘Ordered this for you.’
I thanked her and took a sip.
Pete turned to Penny and said ‘Hate to talk business-’
‘That’s a lie. He loves to talk business’ Zara broke in.
‘But…’ Pete said with a short look to Zara ‘We didn’t just ask you here today to celebrate the book option. We need to ask you something.’
‘And that’s true. We do’ Zara added. ‘Pete, you mind if I take it from here?’
Pete gestured for her to continue. And that was the moment I realised that I definitely didn’t like this young woman. The way she walked over her partner. It told me something. Zara liked control.
But I didn’t have to like her, I reminded myself. This was Penny’s domain. And I doubted she’d be having much contact with Zara from now on. Now that Zara had the rights to make her movie, what more was there to say?
‘Me and Pete have talked it through and although I wrote Comet’s Tail solo, I think I might need a hand with this one. I wondered if you’d do the adaptation? We’d develop it together and then you’d write the screenplay yourself. You’d get a screen credit, and a fee, of course, once funding is secured. Which it will be.’
‘Are you serious? But, but... I’ve never written a screenplay before!’
‘I know. But I can give you some tips, as well as pointing you in the direction of some helpful books. I’ve no doubt you can turn your hand to it, if you decided to. And I really want to make sure I don’t screw up your book. I need your help, Penny’ she said earnestly.
Penny bit her lip. I could tell that even though she had misgivings, she wanted to do it. She was going to say yes. Dammit.
‘Well, I can’t pretend it doesn’t make me a bit nervous.
‘Don’t need to answer now. Take a few days to figure it out’ Zara assured her.
‘OK. I will’ Penny replied.
But I knew it was going to happen. Even if Penny didn’t. And I wasn’t too happy about it. Zara was a shark, I could tell. And Penny was more of a dolphin, sweet and sensitive. If Zara wanted to walk all over Penny, she didn’t stand a chance. She’d roll out the welcome mat and take it.
Later, in the car home, the inevitable question came.
‘So what do you think I should do?’ Penny asked.
I paused. This was tricky. I wanted to support Penny, of course I did. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a bad idea. Still, there was no way I could say that to her. I had no evidence. Gut feeling wasn’t enough to shit on Penny’s good news.
‘What do you think you should do?’ I countered, playing for time.
‘I don’t know. I was really happy when she said it. But now I keep thinking about the fact that I have no idea what I’m doing and that I’ll probably just screw it up’ she said unhappily.
Now it was really tricky. If I told her I thought she shouldn’t do it, she’d think it was because I agreed with her doubts. And I wasn’t about to stoke that fire. Firstly, I wanted her to find confidence in her abilities and I knew she wasn’t there yet. But worse, I did think she could do it. In fact, just like Zara, I knew she could.
‘Penny, if any part of you wants to do this, then you should. It’s the unknown, it’s going to feel daunting. I’d feel the same in your position. But you just need to find your feet. If you do it, you’ll be great at it. I know it.’
Penny smiled. ‘I don’t think you’d be nervous at all.’
Classic Penny. She’d barely heard the praise. She’d only heard the part she could argue with.
‘First off, yes I would’ I told her. ‘I thought we were past all that putting-me-on-a-pedestal stuff?’
‘This isn’t a pedestal. You don’t suffer with the same nerves I do. You just don’t, Julia.’
‘How can you be so sure of that?’
‘Because you don’t care about what anyone thinks of you enough to ever be worried about things like that.’
I sighed.
‘I do care what people think of me, actually.’
Penny turned to me sharply. ‘Name one person you’ve ever cared about impressing.’
‘You, for a start.’
Penny rolled her eyes. ‘Take me out of the equation. Because I already admire you and I always have, which I think you know. Who else?’
There was a name that came to mind, but I didn’t really want to go down the path that saying that name would lead me down. It was far too long a journey.
‘I don’t have some list I can roll off. Just take it that sometimes, I care what people think. And sometimes, I get nerves. And sometimes it affects my actions. Or lack of them,’ I finished. I realised my voice was raised.
Penny was looking at me with a dash of shock. ‘Are we arguing?’
‘I think so’ I said, confused.
‘Why?’
I really didn’t know. But I thought there was a strong chance it was my fault. ‘I don’t… I’m sorry.’
Penny accepted my apology and gave me her own, although I had a feeling she didn’t mean it. It had been said more out of politeness. And I supposed that was fair. She hadn’t been the one to get carried away.
I pulled up in front of her house and she started to get out.
‘Hey’ I called and she paused.
‘What’s up?’
‘That’s what I wanted to ask you? I don’t want you to go feeling angry at me’ I implored.
She got back in her seat and turned to me, grabbing my hand. She smiled.
‘I’m not.’
She kissed me and got out of the car. I watched her walk to the door. I hoped she’d turn for one last look. But she didn’t. Not this time. She shut the door behind her without a backwards glance.
Chapter Eight
That night, I tossed and turned for hours, sleep beyond my reach. But it wasn’t the offer I was wrestling with. It was the incident in the car afterward.
Julia was right. I was angry with her.
The offer from Zara, despite how nervous it made me, had also been flattering. And then somehow, Julia had ruined the moment.
And it wasn’t like Julia to be that way. Her support was ordinarily unwavering. She’d been pushing me forward from the start. And this had the potential to be the next step for me, a possible new direction for my career to go in, if I decided to do it.
So what was going on?
At 2 a.m., I finally gave up and switched on the light, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. After a few minutes of scrolling through twitter, I opened my emails and refreshed. There was the usual rubbish, but mixed in among the junk was a new email from Zara. I opened it with trepidation. Part of me thought she was going to say she’d changed her mind.
But it wasn’t anything like that.
Hi Penny,
First off, you should know that this email is me being pushy and I’m well aware of that. There’s no getting around it. Most people would probably let you consider my offer in peace. Well, that’s not me. And that’s why I’m writing to you, mere hours after we spoke in person. I want you to do this and I hope you know that I’ll hound you until you have to get a restraining order out on me.
But before we have to get the police involved, I want you to know why I want you to do this, and why I want to adapt your book in the first place. It’s not just that it has all the elements to make a great movie (although it does, as long as I get it right) but the story did something to me and that’s why I picked it. It clicked with me. To me, it’s a story about looking for yourself. Looking for yourself in other people and things. And we’re all guilty of that.
But I like the ending, that your protagonist figures out that she only needs herself and to make the best of the time and place she came from. That’s the way my life has gone, although the fact I’m asking you to do this with me probably contradicts that. I guess I just want you to know that when I decide on a path, I don’t stop until I reach the end of it.
But I need you to escort me, at least partway. So
please come with me.
Zara
After re-reading the email a few times, I had a feeling, one that I guess I’d had from the moment she asked me to work with her. I’d let my nerves get in the way of it, but it was clear to me now what I was going to do.
I closed the email and felt my eyes become heavy. A peace had settled over me from making this decision.
I wanted to do this. I was going to do this.
The next morning, I didn’t want to give myself time to let doubts creep in. I called Zara as soon as it was a reasonable hour.
‘Hey, are you calling to let me know that the restraining order is in the post?’ she asked.
I laughed. ‘No. I’m calling to say yes.’
‘Yes?’
‘Yes, yes. I mean, it’s a yes’ I babbled. ‘To your offer. If you want me to do it, I will. Write the screenplay.’
There was a moments quiet during which I had a tiny panic and then Zara said ‘Sorry, just taking a moment to do an air punch of celebration. Have you had breakfast yet? Because I was just about to go out in search of a croissant. I could tell you my ideas, get your take?’
‘Wow’ I breathed. ‘You don’t waste any time, do you?’
Zara laughed. ‘A million miles an hour, that’s my speed. You’ll get used to it. Eventually, you’ll learn to tell me to put the brakes on. But hopefully not quite yet. So, croissants?’
An hour later, I was eating pastry with Zara. She was talking at a fair clip while her croissant sat untouched. It was daunting in a way; she wasn’t kidding about the speed at which she went. But there was also something appealing about it. Yes, she was high energy but she seemed to know where she was going. And it was hard not to want to go with her as she swept you up in her words.
‘…so if we strip it back to the bare essentials, what we can squeeze into a hundred and twenty minutes, unfortunately, some stuff will need to go. So that will become a question of what we can live with. Right now, it’s tough for me, as a fan of the book. I’m hoping you can be a bit more ruthless while I try and get the stars out of my eyes. At the moment, our character travels to eight different times. We’ll have to cut at least two, I think.’
