Take Two

CHAPTER 36

Richards brought his Porsche to a halt in front of the barrier and wound down the window as a uniformed security guard walked over holding a clipboard. ‘Warwick Richards,’ he said. ‘I’m here to see Miss Castle.’ It was Friday, just before noon.

The guard studied a list on his clipboard, nodded, and handed a security badge through the window before showing Richards where to park. ‘If you go to reception, somebody will be waiting for you there,’ said the guard.

Richards parked the car and walked through the double glass doors into the reception area. On the walls were life-size photographs of the show, including one of Carolyn in a little black dress and a string of pearls holding an attache case in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other.

He was about to talk to a receptionist when a good-looking black man in a tight-fitting polo shirt and baggy Versace jeans walked over. ‘Mr Richards? I’m Terry Carter.’ He held out his hand and flashed Richards a beaming smile.

‘Call me Warwick, please,’ said Richards as he shook Terry’s hand. ‘How did you know it was me?’

Terry laughed. ‘Carolyn said you were tall, dark and handsome.’

‘Same as you, then,’ said Richards.

‘Plus security called to say you’d just arrived,’ said Terry. ‘Carolyn’s on the set at the moment. She’s asked me to take you through. Could you do me a favour and switch off your mobile? Nothing annoys a director more than a phone going off.’

‘No problem,’ said Richards. He took out his phone and switched it off. Terry took him through a set of double doors that led to a long corridor. ‘So you’re a fan of the show?’

‘Big time,’ lied Richards. In fact, earlier that week he’d bought a DVD set of the show and spent the weekend watching it. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience and, after the first few hours, he’d opened a bottle of champagne which had helped a bit. The only thing he had enjoyed had been the steady of stream of pretty girls who passed through the show, usually being bedded by one or other of the regular male characters. ‘What is it you do, Terry?’

‘Props master. I supply the bits and bobs that clutter up the sets. And I help out with wardrobe.’

‘Must be fun.’

‘It has its moments,’ said Terry. ‘Carolyn tells me you paid twenty-five grand to have lunch with her.’

‘Twenty-six,’ said Richards. ‘It was for charity. For kids. I bid on Seb, too, but I’m glad I got her and not him. She is fit, isn’t she?’

Terry grinned. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘As a butcher’s dog.’

They reached the doors to the studio. The red light was on, Terry pointed at it. ‘That shows they’re filming,’ he said. ‘We can go in, but no noise and be careful where you put your feet. There are cables everywhere.’

Richards nodded and Terry opened the door. They slipped inside and Terry closed the door carefully behind them.

Terry took Richards around to the left. They turned a corner and found two dozen people, mainly men, standing around as Carolyn and Seb were talking. They were in the kitchen that Richards recognised from the DVD. Carolyn was holding a champagne glass and was listening to Seb, her head cocked to the side.

Standing a few feet to her left was a man holding a sound boom above her head. As Richards watched the two actors work, he was impressed with the way they were able to focus on each other and ignore the dozens of people who were standing around the set. Seb was accusing Carolyn of not pulling her weight at the company and, when it was her turn to speak, she ripped into him coldly and clinically and finished by throwing the contents of her glass in his face.

‘Cut!’ shouted the director.

Everyone started moving around purposefully, moving lights and reattaching cables, and a young girl in tight jeans rushed over to Seb and began dabbing at his face with a towel.

‘We’re breaking for lunch!’ shouted a girl with a clipboard. ‘Back here at two sharp to pick up with scene forty-seven.’

Carolyn walked over to Richards and held out her hand. ‘Welcome to the coal face,’ she said.

He shook her hand. ‘Thanks for having me,’ he said. He looked around the set. ‘I’m, surprised to see there’s just one camera.’

Carolyn laughed. ‘Most people are,’ she said. ‘They think we act and three or four cameras film it as it happens. No, we do it with just one camera. So they film me saying a line, then the other actor saying their line, then a shot with us both in the frame, then another looking over my shoulder. They sometimes film the same scene five or six different ways and then they all get cut together in the editing suite.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Are you okay for the canteen?’ she said. ‘It’s actually quite good.’

‘But no wine?’

‘Definitely no wine,’ said Carolyn. ‘In fact, that was lemonade I just threw in Seb’s face.’

‘And it was the third take,’ said Seb, walking over. He shook Richards’ hand. ‘You’re here for your twenty-six grand lunch?’

‘I certainly am,’ said Richards. ‘And I’m looking forward to it.’

A runner came over with a blue dressing gown and Carolyn slipped it on. ‘I feel a bit underdressed in the little black number,’ she said. ‘And I need to be wearing it for the next scene. Hope you don’t mind.’

‘You look good in blue,’ said Richards.

‘Well let’s go and see what’s on the menu.’

‘Do you want me to tag along?’ asked Terry.

‘A chaperone?’ said Richards. ‘I promise not to make any untoward advances.’

‘We’ll be fine, Terry,’ said Carolyn. ‘But leave your mobile phone on.’ She saw the look of surprise on Richards’ face and she grinned. ‘Joking,’ she said.

‘I’ll be on my best behaviour,’ said Richards.

‘I’m sure you will be,’ she said.