Beauchamp Hall

by Danielle Steel

  “I just saw them shoot a scene!” she said, still amazed by it, and Mrs. Flannagan laughed. They did it almost every day, and the townspeople were used to it.

  “Welcome to Beauchamp Hall, my dear,” she said warmly, and Winnie ran up the stairs to her room, feeling as though she had died and gone to Heaven. This was just what she had wanted when she decided to come, and what she had dreamed of. It was perfect.

  Chapter Six

  Winnie watched another scene being shot early the next morning when she went for a walk before breakfast. The actors were different this time, some of the younger stars, and the father on the show was with them. She recognized them all and stood rapt until they finished shooting. She couldn’t imagine getting tired of it or becoming blasé about it. It was magical watching them.

  After breakfast, she walked up to the castle, and waited for a tour of the parts they showed visitors. The history of the place was fascinating. Its heyday of opulence and luxury had been in the nineteenth and earlier part of the twentieth century. The family had had serious reverses after the Crash of 1929. Changing times had continued to diminish their fortune after the Second World War, and by the 1960s they were in serious trouble, but had managed to hang on to the castle and estate by selling works of art, valuable objects like Fabergé boxes, or the occasional investment that did well. The days of armies of servants like on the show, grandeur, and unlimited funds had ended some ninety years before. And parts of the castle showed it and were in need of repair. The days of the castle’s occupation by the Haversham family went almost all the way back to the Norman Conquest, and many of the crowned heads of Europe had stayed there. Queen Victoria and Prince Albert had visited the family frequently, so had King George VI, and Queen Elizabeth II was the godmother of Lady Beatrice, the current marquess’s sister. There was no question of their noble birth or importance in the British aristocracy, and some of the rooms of the castle and their contents were magnificent. The tour guide explained that the parts of the castle being used to film the show were the most beautiful, and were not on the tour at the moment as they were in use for filming on a daily basis. Learning about it was fascinating and Winnie bought a book about the family and the castle on the way out.

  She asked the guide if one could watch filming inside the castle and was told with a smile that you had to know someone in the cast or the producers to do that, but she said that the actors were frequently seen around the village, and the outdoor shots were easy to see happening, and all observers were welcome.

  After the tour, Winnie looked around for a place to have a cup of tea and noticed a bright yellow food truck parked in a corner of the main square. She wandered over to it. A man about her own age was handing out tea and coffee, and selling sandwiches and pastries to visitors and locals. He smiled at her, and she asked for a cup of Earl Grey tea, and he handed it to her. As soon as she paid him and thanked him and he heard her speak, his smile grew wider.

  “American?” She nodded. “Came to see the show being filmed?” She nodded again. “You know, they hire extras right off the street. We’ve all been in it at some point. You should get on the list, it’s fun, and you probably don’t need a work permit for a day of occasional labor. You don’t have to do anything, just stand there looking like a villager in whatever costume they put you in. They pay you something for it, not much, but I do it for the amusement and to see the actors. You might enjoy it.”

  “I’m sure I would.” She looked interested by what he was saying. “Where do I sign up?”

  “Just watch where they’re shooting at the end of the day. They often walk around asking for extras. They sign them up for the next day. One of the assistants will have the list, you’ll see it.”

  “Thank you, I’ll watch for it.” She smiled at him.

  “My name is Rupert, by the way.” He reached out of his food truck and shook her hand.

  “Winnie,” she supplied, still smiling.

  “Where are you from?” He was curious about her, and he thought she was a pretty woman.

  “A small town, north of Detroit, Michigan. It’s very cold there.”

  He grinned. “It’s not tropical here either. How long are you staying?”

  “I haven’t decided. I’m free for a while.” He nodded and then got busy with other customers, so she walked down one of the narrow streets she hadn’t explored yet, and the truck was gone when she got back.

  She didn’t see anyone making lists of extras for the next two days, and then on the third day she saw a young man doing exactly what Rupert had described, asking for volunteers as extras and jotting down names as people put up their hands. Winnie approached and put up her hand so the assistant would see it.

  “Name?” he asked her quickly.

  “Winona Farmington.”

  “Great, thanks.” And when he had as many as he needed, he told them to come to the main entrance of the castle at seven the next morning, and they’d be given costumes. He warned them all not to wear jewelry or modern watches, and he told them that they would receive a small token amount, paid in cash.

  Winnie could hardly wait as she went back to the cottage, and told Mrs. Flannagan as soon as she walked in.

  “Good for you!” she congratulated her. “Maybe they’ll discover you and you’ll become famous like Marilyn Monroe.” Winnie laughed at the comparison.

  “I don’t think so, but it sounds like fun.”

  “It is,” she admitted. “I’ve done it myself. It takes a lot of time, though, they keep you standing around for hours while they shoot the scenes again and again. I’m too busy here to do it more than every now and then. I was an extra in Lady Charlotte’s wedding scene as the carriage drove her and Lord Hamish away.” Winnie had watched the wedding repeatedly and knew the scene she meant. “But you have the time, you’ll enjoy it,” Prudence added.

  The German guests had arrived that morning, they were a young couple and avid fans of the show, as was a young Italian man, who said he was writing an article about it. The other guests were quiet and kept to themselves, and spent as much time exploring the town as she did, so she didn’t see them often. The B and B was very well run, and immaculately clean. All the guests loved it.

  The next morning, Winnie walked up to the main entrance of the castle, wearing no watch or jewelry, and lined up with about sixty or seventy people. They were going to be a crowd at a church fair, and Winnie loved the coat, hat, dress, and shoes they had for her. A makeup artist gave her a cursory once-over with blush and powder, and two hours later they were taken by bus to the local church where tents were set up, pens with live animals in them, and food stalls, and the crowd was to wander around enjoying themselves as the actors played out the scene in the foreground. Winnie saw three of her favorite actors appear and one of them smiled at her. She felt like a schoolgirl after he did, and she chatted with the other extras between scenes. They were all locals, except for her, and they were impressed that she had come from so far away. She had a great time with all of them. They were given lunch from a giant food truck, and sent home with a little cash for each at the end of the day. The pay was very little, but she didn’t care.

  “Did you have fun?” Mrs. Flannagan asked her when she got back, she could see that she had, Winnie’s eyes were dancing. She had sent Marje a text that she’d been an extra on the show that day. And her sister had teased her that she would become famous.

  “I had a ball,” Winnie said and went up to her room, smiling. It was the most fun she’d had in years. She went for a walk that night after dinner, and saw two of the major actors taking a stroll and talking earnestly. She would have loved to say hello to them, but didn’t dare.

  And the next day, at the pharmacy, she saw a beautiful woman with long blond hair speaking to the pharmacist. Winnie recognized her from a photograph in the book she’d bought. It was Lady Beatrice Haversham, the sister of the
marquess who owned the castle. The book had explained the rights of primogeniture, which dictated that the current marquess had inherited everything, the castle and the entire estate, along with his title. But being a modern man, he had given the dower house and a portion of the estate, with some of the old tenant farms, to his sister, so she would have a home there forever, and was a part owner of the estate. In earlier times, she would have inherited nothing. Lady Beatrice turned and smiled at Winnie warmly, as though she knew her.

  “Sorry to be taking so long,” she apologized. “My brother always sends me with a ridiculous list, for vitamins, plasters, headache medicine, he’s hopeless!” Winnie smiled at the British pronunciation of “vitamins,” and had learned that “plasters” were bandages for small cuts.

  “It’s fine, I’m not in a hurry,” she assured her, and then she couldn’t help saying something about the book she was finding fascinating. “I’m really enjoying the book about your home and family,” Winnie said cautiously, not sure how she’d take it, and the beautiful aristocrat smiled broadly at her, since she’d written the book.

  “How nice of you. That sort of thing is so embarrassing, and of course there are all sorts of idiotic stories in it that make one’s relatives look ridiculous, but it helps sell the book, and one has to do something to make money,” she said with a smile. “Are you here to watch the series being filmed?”

  Winnie nodded. “I am. I love the show, it was sort of a dream to come here. I just decided to do it.” There was something so genuine about the way she said it that it touched Lady Beatrice.

  “Well, thank God for people like you, you keep a roof over our heads. I do love the show myself. I sit and watch it for hours, and my brother tells me how stupid I am. But the writer is brilliant and quite creative, and it’s not all based on us. In fact, most of it isn’t. He just used the house and a bit of our family history for inspiration. The Beauchamp Hall family are far more interesting than we are. Our parents were quite dull actually, and I don’t think my grandfather spoke more than once or twice in his lifetime. Although my grandmother was a bit naughty, quite a few indiscretions, I’m afraid, but she was very beautiful and my grandfather was very boring. And all my brother ever does is play with his cars, he’s more or less a mechanic. It’s his only activity, other than shooting, riding, and playing with his dogs. And I have no talents whatsoever.” She was modest and funny, and Winnie thought she was utterly enchanting. There was nothing pretentious about her, and she had no trouble laughing at herself.

  “I have no talents either,” Winnie said simply. “I wish I could write something like Beauchamp Hall.”

  “So do I!” Lady Beatrice said enthusiastically. “Think of the pots of money we’d make.” The two women were laughing like old friends when the pharmacist handed Lady Beatrice an enormous bag across the counter. “See what I mean?” She turned to Winnie. “All for my brother. He’s a dreadful hypochondriac. He needs to marry a nurse really. Or a doctor.” She smiled at Winnie again as she walked past her. “Enjoy your stay here. And thank you for buying the book! We need it to fix the roof, it leaks dreadfully!” She waved and then hurried out of the shop, and Winnie turned to the pharmacist, a bit stunned by the encounter.

  “What a nice person,” she commented and the pharmacist agreed with her.

  “She’s a good woman. Her brother is very pleasant too, very handsome, but a bit eccentric, I think. Neither of them has ever been married,” she volunteered, then took care of what Winnie requested and handed it to her. When she left the pharmacy, she saw Lady Beatrice being driven away by a good-looking man with dark hair in an old Jaguar. He took off at full speed. They were both about Winnie’s age. And they were laughing as he drove back toward the castle.

  Winnie spent the rest of the day exploring the village again. She had a nice lunch on her own in a little tea room, and went back to the cottage late in the day. Mrs. Flannagan said she’d had a message from the casting department of the show. They needed extras again and wanted to know if she was available. She called the number back, and told them she’d love to do it. She had to be at the set this time at 6:00 A.M., for a hospital scene. She was going to be one of the nurses rushing up and down a hallway. It sounded like fun to Winnie.

  By six-thirty the next morning, she was wearing a nurse’s uniform of the period, her hair was crimped in neat waves beneath her cap, and tied up in a little bun. She was fascinated to notice a prim little man watching every scene. Someone explained to her that he was their “manners coach,” the person who corrected them about how women sat and walked and spoke at the time, and on what men could and couldn’t do. He gave the look of the show accurate historical authenticity, in terms of the mores of the era, along with a historical consultant. The two men conferred constantly, and advised the cast.

  In the scene Winnie was in, she brought a lunch tray in for one of the main actors, and when she set it down in front of him for the fourth time, and murmured, “Your lunch, Your Lordship,” he whispered to her.

  “Can I have you for lunch?” he asked sotto voce with a look of innocence, his lips barely moving. She burst out laughing, and they had to shoot the scene again. Afterwards he apologized to her. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. You look gorgeous in that uniform.”

  “Thank you,” she said and could feel herself blushing. He didn’t pursue it any further, but it was a nice compliment, and the next day she saw Rupert and his food truck in the square and went over to talk to him.

  “Thank you for telling me about signing up as an extra, I’ve done it twice since I saw you. It’s so much fun.” He laughed and handed her the tea she had ordered.

  “We’ve all done it. So how are you settling in?” He acted as though she’d moved there, and she almost felt that way too. She had no desire to leave anytime soon. Everyone had been so welcoming. She had Skyped with Marje several times and told her all about it. She’d told her that now she had to watch the show so she could see her baby sister on TV in the church fair scene and in a nurse’s uniform at the hospital. “You ought to apply for a job on the set,” Rupert suggested.

  “I don’t think I can work here,” Winnie said, looking pensive. “I’m sure I’d need a work visa.”

  “They can get you one if they want to. If you’re going to stay here long enough, it might be good to work there, unless you’re a lady of leisure,” he said hesitantly. Winnie smiled at him.

  “I’m definitely not that. I’m between jobs at the moment. But I wasn’t planning to work for a while.”

  “They might not have anything. You could put yourself on a list and if something comes up, they’ll call you.” He was very helpful once again, and the idea appealed to her enormously. She thought about it for a few days. She’d been in Burnham Market for a week by then, and it was starting to feel like home. The Italian and German guests had left the cottage, and been replaced by two French couples who were traveling together. The town had definitely become a destination for people who loved the show, and wanted to see where it was made and get a closer look at the cast. She had caught another look at Lady Beatrice too, but didn’t speak to her this time. She was driving down the high street in a banged-up old Fiat 500.

  After Winnie had been there for two weeks, she screwed up her courage and walked up to the castle, asked for the HR office on the set, gave them her details and how to contact her, and handed them her CV. They explained that with no experience working on the set of a TV show, and no work permit, only the most menial jobs would be open to her. They could hire people like her for the lowest possible salary, sometimes on a part-time basis. For a better job, she’d need a work permit and the union would get involved.

  “I don’t mind what I do,” she said easily, and meant it. For the thrill of working on the set, she would have done almost anything. She really had become a groupie, she told herself, and said as much when she wrote to Marje again. She deleted two more emai
ls from Barb without opening them. Rob had finally stopped calling and texting her. He had obviously moved on. She felt relieved, mostly.

  She got a chance to be an extra again, and a week later she was shocked when she got a call to come in and interview for a job. They didn’t say what it was on the phone, and she knew it could only be a minor job, but any opportunity to hang around on the set was a thrill to her. She could watch them film the indoor scenes that way.

  She wore a short navy skirt and white blouse with sandals when she went for the interview, and she saw a different HR person than she had the first time, and had to explain her job experience again. The woman hesitated, and then finally said that they needed an errand girl on the set. They’d had one and just lost her. She said the position was very poorly paid and was such a minor job that they paid for it out of their petty cash budget rather than payroll, which would have been more complicated. It was perfect for Winnie, because she didn’t need a work permit that way. The HR woman warned her that she was not to be overly personal with the stars of the show, nor intrusive, she was not to ask anyone on the set for autographs and she was basically expected to do whatever they asked her for, within reason, as long as it wasn’t illegal or dangerous. She was there to make everyone’s life easier and spare them from doing menial tasks themselves. She was what was commonly called a gofer in the States. It was a job she would have been offended by at home, and was delighted to have on the set of Beauchamp Hall. She was told which production assistant to report to and that her work hours would be decided on, as well as what days they needed her. The woman warned Winnie that the hours could be long if they had night shoots, or a shooting day went to overtime. Winnie had nothing else to do and she couldn’t wait to start.