by Alison Bond
What?’
‘Don’t leave me.’
Ruby was about to start shooting her first film in two years, the only good script to shoot locally in all that time. Decent part, big budget. But the moment Dante asked her to stay by his side she couldn’t have cared less.
‘Don’t you want me to work?’ she asked gently.
‘You love your career more than me.’
‘Never,’ she said. ‘You are the most important thing in my life.’
She thought back to when they had met. She had been so raw then, little more than a teenager. ‘I’d be nothing without you.’
‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘And I’m asking you to do this one for thing me, to stay with me, and you won’t. Fuck it, Ruby, if you don’t love me any more just say so.’
‘Please don’t,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you to be angry.’
‘Then don’t piss me off!’ He stood up and slammed the tumbler he was holding down on the table so hard that the glass shattered. There was blood on his hand.
She begged Max to release her from the contract but he stood firm.
‘I can’t make you,’ he said. ‘But it would be career suicide to walk off this film so late in the day.’
Ruby was distraught. She was acutely aware of her slippery grasp on the ladder of success. Her last film disappeared without a trace; her previous film hadn’t fared much better. She needed a hit. If she lost her reputation as one of the world’s leading ladies then she would have to work relentlessly to get it back. And if she wasn’t a star then she was scared that Dante wouldn’t love her any more.
She was torn. Dante needed her, but he needed her rich and successful. Without the fame and the money, who was she? Nobody. A man like Dante would never love a nobody. Reluctantly, she decided to uphold her contract and make the film.
Dante sank into a black mood, punctuated by episodes of drug-fuelled belligerence. Ruby was terrified.
It wasn’t good. It wasn’t even passable. Her heart wasn’t in it and that was blatantly obvious to everyone. Max received his first complaint about Ruby just nine hours after they started shooting.
‘She’s distracted. She’s trying to fake it but she’s still on the page.’
She hadn’t even learnt her lines? Max apologized and concocted a story about how Ruby never got up to speed until day two.
He telephoned her immediately although it was very late. ‘How’s my favourite client?’
‘She’sexhausted,’ said Ruby ‘This is not an easy gig, Max. Did you know they have me working back to back? I’m on the call sheet every day. Is that right?’
‘It’s a big production,’ he said, ‘lots to get done. They treating you okay?’
‘I could do with a person, you know, an assistant or whatever. I don’t want to miss any calls.’
He gathered she meant calls from Dante. There was nothing in her contract about a dedicated assistant and he doubted very much that they would stretch to it. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ He didn’t like to think how that conversation would go – ‘Hey, can I have an extra crew member to wait around by the phone in case the husband calls?’
He had to be careful. Ruby couldn’t make too many demands. She didn’t have the power she once had. There’s a magical stage in a star’s career when the film needs you more than you need the film, but the hardest thing to do is make that moment last for ever. After this film it would probably be time for Ruby to enter a second phase of her career, character parts, supporting roles. As she approached her mid-thirties, forty seemed to loom ever closer.
Ruby invited Max to lunch on set later that week and he noticed how she made it sound like a social event, as though she was inviting him to a leisurely meal at her own home. She didn’t seem to realize that film sets were becoming more like factory floors, and that time was money to the film-makers in a way that had never been so conspicuous before.
‘Do me a favour?’ he said, just before he ended the call. ‘Get the lines down and the whole thing will seem much easier. You need to be able to focus on the character and not the words. It’s a fantastic part and you’ll steal the movie.’
‘What the hell, Max? Are you trying to tell me how to do my goddam job? I could do this shitty little part in a fortnight if they knew what they were doing.’
‘Just learn the lines, sweetheart.’
‘I know the lines,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you.’
She put the phone down and contemplated the fact that someone on the film had called Max to complain about her. Max didn’t have to tell her that. It was obvious. How dare they? She was an Oscar-winning actress, not some rookie on a learning curve. She poured herself a glass of wine and paced around the kitchen. So she hadn’t learnt her lines? So what? The film was all cut, cut, cut – a hell of a lot of style but not much substance. She had played parts where the camera stayed on her for fifteen minutes. She had seen films where shots lingered for twice that, artistic films that didn’t try so hard to titillate and entertain. Films that gave you time to think. But now they’d rather cut to the car chase. She could act circles around everybody else in the cast if she applied herself.
She picked up the script with the intention of being word-perfect for the scenes that she was scheduled to shoot the next day. EXT. VINE STREET DAY, ‘I’m worried about you’ – it was all pretty basic stuff. Then she heard Dante’s car in the driveway and stashed the script away. He was home.
The following day it was raining. Ruby was so unused to rain that for the tiniest of moments she thought she had woken up in Wales and was a girl again. It was the smell. But then the dull ache in her head and the persistent buzzing of her alarm reminded her that she was old enough to drink and was expected to go to work.
Dante was not in bed beside her. At some point in the night he had gone. It wasn’t the first time. Eventually she had to trust that he would be back.
Ella was downstairs happily feeding all three children. Perhaps it should have been unsettling for the woman of the house to see somebody else in her kitchen but Ruby enjoyed the way Ella’s contribution allowed her the freedom to be Dante’s wife first and a mother second. She knew some women who said that their children were their number one priority; in Ruby’s opinion these women had unhappy marriages. She quickly compared Ella, smeared in butter and pancake batter, with her own reflection – beautiful, award-winning actress on her way to work. Was it any wonder Dante had chosen her?
‘There are some messages for you on the machine,’ said Ella.
‘I’m late,’ said Ruby. ‘They’ll have to wait.’
She only just remembered to take her script with her, which she had not studied last night. After sex with Dante it had been impossible to concentrate. She hoped that she could wing it. She forced herself to read the script in the car on the way to set. The rain was torrential, streaming down sun-baked hills in small rivers and turning everything from sepia to Technicolor. She noticed that they were heading towards the hills, not downtown as the script suggested.
The crew were all in place when she arrived. The setup surrounded a table in a closed café. One small problem though: the café scene was not what Ruby had been expecting to shoot today.
‘It’s the weather,’ said the irrepressibly perky assistant director. ‘We switched scenes. Didn’t someone call you?’
Maybe they had. She should have checked. She was tired and finding it hard to concentrate.
The AD was still speaking. Something about new pages. Good, if the scene had been rewritten then she wouldn’t be the only one who didn’t know the lines.
She climbed the rickety stairs to her trailer, spacious by anyone’s standards. That was the great thing about these bigger-budget movies, they took care of the talent. Taking care to lock the door behind her, she unearthed the emergency cocaine that she had stashed in her purse.
As soon as she’d taken a line she felt better. Her head cleared and her senses were alerted. She skipped through the pages for the ne
w scene. There was nothing to worry about, she was fantastic. A quick check in the mirror confirmed that she was still lovely. Gorgeous, in fact. Everything was cool.
Her makeup and hair took longer than usual but she hardly noticed. She was too busy thinking about how she was going to go out there today and remind them why they had hired her. She would fucking blind them with her brilliance! The other actors in the scene would feel humbled. The whole crew would be awestruck by the time she had finished. ‘We’re so sorry we doubted you,’ they would say, and then she would ask for an even bigger trailer just because she could.
She was wearing red shoes with five-inch heels but walked on set with consummate poise. That was star power, right there.
She fluffed the first take. That was fine, the first take is always a kind of practice, everyone knows that. When she messed up on the second she was sure that it wasn’t her fault, her co-star’s timing had been off, but she thought she saw the sound guy exchange glances with the first assistant, glances that were loaded in her direction. She stopped herself from worrying; maybe she was being paranoid. On the third take she wasn’t sure what went wrong but it rattled her because she jumped on her lines too fast on the next one, inadvertently cutting off her co-star. On the next take a plane flew overhead and they cut for a fifth time.
‘Okay, break, everyone. Ten minutes.’
The director took Ruby aside. ‘What’s up?’ he said.
Her eyes sparkled unnaturally brightly. ‘Nothing. I’m great. A little cold though, I should have a blanket between takes.’
Are you getting sick?’
‘I don’t get sick.’
The director shouted for a blanket and a floor runner scurried off to oblige. ‘So on this next take,’ he said, ‘can we try for a straight run? I love what you’re doing with it but let’s just try and get something in the can, then we’ll have time for some proper coverage.’
A question speared her confidence. ‘You think I’m slowing things down? Me? There was a bloody plane in case you didn’t notice.’
Whatever, let’s just get through this set-up and then we can move on. It’s not a big deal.’
The runner produced a blanket and it was wrapped around Ruby’s shoulders. The director gave her a final pat on the shoulder before walking away. She was insulted. What the hell was he talking about? She’d been doing fine, more than fine.
When they were ready to go again Ruby waited for her cue and then rattled off the first few lines. The scene danced along and she was certain that everybody would be happy with it; she hoped the camera was catching her good side. She was taking care of her part so the only thing that could mess it up now would be the technical guys. How could they ever have questioned her ability? She was flying up here.
There was a long silence. Was she supposed to say something?
‘And cut!’
Everybody was staring at her. She had forgotten her line.
The director was deep in conference with his assistant. When they broke it off the assistant rushed to one of the production trailers immediately. The director then huddled with his cinematographer and the script supervisor.
Ruby smiled at her co-star and shrugged, like ‘These things happen.’ Her co-star did not return the smile.
‘Okay, people!’ The idle crew turned to their director. ‘Let’s move on, we’re losing the light. We’re gonna take an early lunch and pick up with the Brooks scene after, what? An hour?’
‘One hour,’ confirmed the second assistant director.
Ruby was not playing the part of Brooks. Did that mean she was done? She looked around for instruction but everybody seemed busy. She waited for the director to scold her for that mistake but he was summoned to the production trailer, so she mentally scolded herself instead. It was a momentary lapse in concentration, that was all. Maybe she needed another line of blow. She walked back to her trailer and waited for someone to come and tell her what to do.
An hour passed and nobody came to fetch her. Finally, just as she was feeling the slightest bit apprehensive, there was a knock on her trailer door.
‘Max! What are you doing here?’
Max hated this part of his job most of all. ‘I think you’d better sit down,’ he said.
‘Has something happened?’ A shadow fell across her heart. ‘Oh God, has something happened to Dante?’
‘No, sweetheart. That’s not it.’
She looked at him curiously. He was scaring her. Whatever it was she wished he’d just spit it out. ‘What then?’
‘They’ve been talking,’ he said, waving his hand in the general direction of the partially dismantled set. ‘And the thing is, they want to go another way. With this part. They want to try another actress.’
It took a second to register. ‘I’ve been fired?’
‘It looks that way, yeah.’ Max rubbed at his temple, the way he always did when he was nervous. The producer had done him a huge favour, letting him know first so that he could break the news to her himself. Ruby could have been publicly dumped on set and then it would be impossible to stop the rumours coming out.
‘Creative differences,’ said Max. ‘That’s all. Personally I’m sure they’ll regret it.’
He was already working on damage control. This was a recasting, nothing more. The best thing would be to get Ruby working on another film right away and maybe try to make it look like she’d walked out on them. Which was better for her reputation, getting fired or being irresponsible? Definitely the latter.
‘Can they do that?’ said Ruby. ‘I signed a contract.’
‘You’ll still get paid.’
‘For nothing?’
Max nodded.
Ruby was deeply ashamed. Everybody would know. Why hadn’t she taken the time to learn the script? Why had she stayed up so late last night making love to Dante? Why had she taken that line of cocaine before she went on set? She was supposed to be a professional. And now she was unemployed. Some other actress would get to shine and win awards and the film would probably be a massive hit and people would tell the story of how she’d missed out on a second Oscar yet again as an interesting after-dinner anecdote.
‘Get them to give me one more chance,’ she said. ‘I swear to God, I’ll straighten out. I’ll do it great.’
Max knew that was impossible. ‘It won’t work. They needed to make a quick decision and they made it.’
Ruby buried her face in her hands. It was over. She wasn’t good enough. She’d always suspected that they’d catch up with her in the end. Little Ruby Norton from the valleys trying to make out she was something that she wasn’t. She’d coasted on a lucky wave but it was breaking up around her.
‘But Max,’ she said, ‘what will I tell Dante?’
Max Parker was a patient man but he had his limits. ‘I don’t care. He’s so bad for you, Ruby. Are you the only one that can’t see it?’
‘What? How can you say that? He gave me an Oscar.’
‘No,’ said Max. ‘You won that Academy Award yourself. Dante has given you nothing but grief.’
‘You can never understand. Dante completes me. I hate the person I was before he came into my life. I was insignificant. I can’t go back.’
‘You think all your success is because of him? Because of a second-rate director with a drug problem? You can’t be that stupid.’
Wait a minute, you work for me, remember? How dare you?’
‘I have to say it, Ruby. Somebody has to. You need to take a long hard look at your life. He’s destroying you. Dante is toxic.’
Ruby raised her right hand and slapped Max hard around the face. The sound of the slap ricocheted around the small space. ‘Get out,’ she said. Max was stunned. He backed out of the trailer clutching his crimson face.
‘And tell them they can all go to hell,’ she shouted, and kicked the door of the trailer shut with her red stiletto.
After he went she wanted a drink. It was an urge so strong that for the first time Ruby acknowledged
she might have a problem.
Maybe Max was right. Her husband treated her like a fool. He had slept with and continued to sleep with other women. She gave of herself constantly and he did whatever he chose without considering her at all. She was pathetic.
You should leave him. Her heart raced and suddenly she felt as though she was struggling for breath. You should leave him.
She pulled at her tight shirt, tugging it away from her neck, and ran to the open window, trying to take in the air, but her breathing came in shallow little gulps that she could hear as if from a distance. There was a flare of pain in her chest that made her scream, but it hurt to scream so she stifled it. Her vision narrowed and she started to panic. What would she be without him?
She grabbed hold of the window frame and desperately pulled in one quavering and painful breath. Gradually, one stuttering breath at a time, she was able to regain control. For a moment there she had thought that she was actually going to die.
Ruby could never leave Dante. Where would she go? She knew that he loved her as much as he was capable of loving anyone, and even though at times like this she knew it was not healthy she loved him back. It was an addiction, pure and simple. They both had their habits and Dante was hers. He fed a hunger within her. She could go to a shrink and tell him all about her childhood and together they could come up with some reason why she was obsessed with a man who would always be emotionally out of reach – was it a hunter instinct? Was it masochism? Was she repressing something? Expressing something? – but all the therapy in the world wouldn’t change a thing. Her own self-worth had been tangled up with her feelings for him for so long that she was genuinely afraid of being alone in case she shrivelled to nothing.
You should leave him. It would never happen.
She gathered her things and walked over to her usual car. She could see the crew setting up for the Brooks scene in the distance. They stopped what they were doing and looked over at her. She walked with her head held high. And she would be keeping the shoes. Dante might enjoy them on her.
