‘I’d love an agent!’ chimes in Suze. ‘I want to be an extra. I really think it could be my new career.’
April Tremont surveys us both curiously. ‘You’re not actors?’
‘I went to drama school,’ says Suze quickly. ‘I’ve got a diploma. I was highly commended in my modern speech.’
‘I’m in fashion.’
‘We got on the film because of Tarkie.’
‘Tarkie’s her husband,’ I explain. ‘He finances films.’
‘Now I find out,’ says Suze bitterly.
‘So everyone was like, Do you want to watch a film being made, and we said, No, we want to be in it.’
‘So here we are!’
We both come to a halt and look expectantly at April. It seems as though she’s having slight trouble following.
‘So you need an agent,’ she says to Suze.
‘Yes please!’ says Suze.
‘And you need …’ She turns to me. ‘Do you need anything?’
‘I’d love a job in styling,’ I say. ‘That’s what I do. I used to work in Barneys, and I’m trying to make it in Hollywood, but it’s really hard to get a foot in the door.’
‘Bex is brilliant,’ says Suze loyally. ‘She makes anyone look good. Even my sister-in-law Fenella, who believe me …’ She makes a face.
‘She’s got good shoulders,’ I say. ‘You just have to focus on the shoulders.’
‘OK,’ says April thoughtfully. ‘Well, how about this? I have a friend who’s a stylist and she’s run ragged. I know she’s always looking for talented people to work with her. How about I fix up a meeting for you?’
‘That would be amazing!’ I gasp. ‘Really?’
‘We’ll both be at the Actors’ Society Awards, Friday night. How about I get you a ticket? I’ll get you both double tickets. It’s a fun evening.’
‘Thank you!’ I grin delightedly at Suze. ‘Thank you so much!’
‘My friend’s name is Cyndi.’ April scribbles the name on a piece of paper. ‘She’ll be there with her new client. You can meet her too. Maybe you guys will all end up working together!’
‘Wow!’ I take the piece of paper. ‘Thanks. Who’s her new client?’
‘Lois Kellerton,’ says April, and I freeze. I’m aware of Suze opening her eyes wide and I try desperately to ignore her.
‘What’s up?’ says April, sensing the tension. ‘Do you know Lois?’
‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘Not at all. No. Never met. Why would I have met Lois Kellerton?’ I give a shrill, unnatural laugh.
‘OK. Well, Lois’s lovely,’ says April. ‘We’re friends too, in fact we’re neighbours. We’ve both lived on Doheny Road for ever. You’ll get along great.’
This is the first time I’ve heard anyone describe Lois as ‘lovely’ and April clearly notices my surprise.
‘What is it?’ she says.
I know I should keep my mouth shut, but I can’t resist it.
‘It’s just I heard Lois was … tricky to deal with?’ I venture. ‘Isn’t her new film running into problems?’
April sighs. ‘I wish Lois didn’t have this reputation. She’s a wonderful girl. And the film will be wonderful. It’s the story of the early female athletes, you know, using some original footage from the Olympics. So smart. And yes, there have been glitches, but every movie has glitches.’
‘Sorry,’ I say awkwardly. ‘I didn’t mean to … I just heard …’
‘I know.’ April drops her hands as though in exasperation. ‘Everyone says the same. The thing is, Lois’s bright, she expects high standards, and she doesn’t necessarily win herself friends. But you’ll like her. I’m sure you will.’
A text bleeps in her phone and she reaches for it. ‘Sorry, I have to go. Give your address to my assistant and I’ll messenger the tickets over. Let yourselves out when you’re ready.’
She heads out of the trailer, clumping down the steps in her Uggs, and Suze and I just stare at each other.
‘Lois Kellerton,’ says Suze at last. ‘Oh my God, Bex.’
‘I know.’ I rub my head. ‘Freaky.’
‘What will you say to her? I mean, about … you know.’
‘I’ll say nothing. It never happened, OK? And I never told you, either.’
‘All right.’ Suze nods fervently, then looks up. ‘Hey, what will Luke say about you meeting Lois? Isn’t Lois Sage’s big nemesis? Aren’t you supposed to be on Team Sage?’
Oh God. In the heat of the moment, I’d forgotten all about that. Damn. I reach for an energy bar, thinking hard. OK, so it’s not ideal. If I could have chosen any other celebrity, I would have. But I can’t turn down this amazing chance. I can’t.
‘Luke will be completely supportive of my career,’ I say at last, a bit more firmly than I feel. ‘I mean, we don’t both have to be on Team Sage, do we? We can have Chinese whatsits.’
‘What?’ Suze looks blank. ‘Fortune cookies?’
‘No!’ I can’t help giggling. ‘Walls. Where you’re on different sides but it’s OK because you don’t pass on any secrets.’
‘Walls?’ says Suze mistrustfully. ‘I don’t like the idea of walls. You shouldn’t have walls in a marriage.’
‘Not real walls, Chinese walls.’
Suze doesn’t look convinced. ‘I still don’t like it. I think you should be on the same side.’
‘Well, so do I,’ I say defensively. ‘But what am I supposed to do? I tried styling Sage and she wasn’t interested.’
‘Style a different celebrity, then.’
‘Who? They’re not exactly queuing up for my services, are they?’ I feel a bit ratty with Suze, partly because I know she’s got a point. ‘Look, it’ll be fine. It’ll be like that film where the husband and wife are opposing lawyers in the courtroom, but when they’re at home everything’s fine and lovely.’
‘What film?’ says Suze suspiciously.
‘Er … you know. That one.’
I’m making this up as I go along, but I won’t admit it.
‘What’s it called?’ demands Suze.
‘It doesn’t matter what it’s called. Look, I’m only in Hollywood once, Suze. I have to at least see if I can make it as a stylist.’ As I say the words, I realize how much I’ve been wanting this opportunity; how disappointed I’ve been at all my failures. And now a real, proper chance is within my grasp. ‘Luke will understand,’ I add. ‘I’ll work it out with him somehow. It’ll all be OK.’
* * *
BACKGROUND ARTISTS UNLIMITED AGENCY APPLICATION FORM FOR ARTISTS
Title (delete as appropriate): Mr/Mrs/Ms Lady
Forename (s): Susan deLaney Margaret
Surname: Cleath-Stuart
Date of Birth: Didn’t you know that it’s not done to ask someone’s age?
Place of Birth: Sandringham, in the riding stables (Mummy had just been out hunting).
Previous Acting Experience: I played a bumble-bee at Mrs Darlington’s Academy and then I was a rabbit, and then I was that Blanche Dubois, my most brilliant role, and then that girl in The Merchant of Venice. Oh, and Juliet. Except we only did three scenes, because Shakespeare IS a bit long.
Special Skills (e.g. riding, juggling): Oh, loads! Riding, tennis, fly-fishing, yoga, making photo frames, flower arranging, folding napkins into shapes, icing cakes (I did a course, Daddy thought I might go into catering). I’m not much good at typing but I could always pretend. And if you’re filming a movie set in an old English house, I can tell you where the knives and forks go, because you always get it wrong. And the English don’t all wear tweed the whole time. Oh, and WHY are the villains always British??
Accents: I can do a brilliant American accent. And French. I can do Welsh but it starts to sound Indian.
Are you willing to appear nude? Are you mad? What would Daddy say? And my husband? Anyway, why do you need anyone to appear nude? When anyone strips off on the screen I start squirming with embarrassment and my husband gets up and says, ‘Who’s for a titchy?’ Peop
le in films should keep their clothes on. Apart from Captain Jack Sparrow, he can take his off!! (Don’t tell Tarkie I said that.)
Page 1 of 3
* * *
THIRTEEN
It’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with many awkward social encounters in my time; it’ll be fine. I mean, OK, so I’ve never met a movie star who: 1. I’ve caught shoplifting; 2. has a tricky reputation (perhaps undeserved); 3. I know the entire life history of, having Googled her solidly for about three days.
But still. I expect it’ll go really well. We’ll probably really hit it off, and meet up for coffee, go shopping together …
No. I pull myself up short. Not shopping. I mean, what if she pinches something? What if she asks me to be her accomplice and I don’t know how to say no? I have a sudden hideous vision of the headlines:
Stylist and movie star arrested in Barneys stuffing designer socks in bags. See pictures pages 8 to 10.
Argh. Stop it, Becky. That’s not going to happen. Decision one: If I get to work on Lois’s styling team, then I’ll tell her I never shop with my clients. And if by any chance we do go shopping and she asks me to shoplift something, I’ll … I’ll pretend I don’t understand and back away. And then run. Yes. Good plan.
At least I’ve done my research. I know so much about Lois Kellerton, I could write a book about her. I know she started her career aged two in an infomercial about road safety, and she had an agent at age three, and her parents gave up their jobs to focus on her career. Her mother is the driven one and her father is the had-lots-of-affairs-and-ran-off one, so I won’t mention him.
Nor will I mention Sage. I hadn’t quite realized what a feud they’ve been having. It’s not just the cancer-victim-shaving-head remark which Sage keeps going on about. It started ages ago, when they both arrived at an event in the same vivid-green dress, and Sage accused Lois of doing it on purpose. Then Sage didn’t turn up to an AIDS event organized by Lois. She was supposed to be presenting the whole evening, apparently, and Lois said she felt ‘snubbed and let down’ but that she wasn’t surprised that Sage had ‘once again displayed her innate selfishness’.
Then last year, Lois did the Hollywood Walk of Fame and said in her speech, ‘Hollywood is in my DNA.’ Whereupon Sage immediately commented on Facebook, ‘God help Hollywood.’
What’s really sad is that they used to be friends, years ago. They even appeared in a TV show together as children. But Hollywood is a tough place for the twenty-first-century actress, and she learns to look on every other star as an enemy (according to Hollywouldn’t.com, this brilliant blog I found). Apparently actresses compete over roles, men, ad campaigns and even plastic surgeons. They set up camps like royal courts and become paranoid about their competitors, even those they’re ‘friends’ with.
It all sounds super-stressy. I can’t imagine competing with Suze over a plastic surgeon. Although, to be fair, we did once clash over an Orla Kiely coat which we both wanted to buy on eBay. (Suze got it. But she lends it to me.)
Anyway, so there are quite a few possible conversational pitfalls, if and when I meet Lois tonight. I won’t mention Sage, or shoplifting (or shopping) or Lois’s dad, or Lois’s latest film, The Spiked Bed (it got bad reviews), or white sugar (she thinks it’s evil). Not that I was planning to mention white sugar, but still. Worth remembering. Topics I can safely mention: Lois’s Golden Globe, kettlebells, macadamia nuts. I’ve written them down in case I get tongue-tied.
‘Why macadamia nuts?’ says Suze, who has been reading the list with interest.
‘Because Lois loves them,’ I say. ‘It said so in Health and Fitness. So I’ll pretend to love them too and we’ll connect.’
‘But what can you say about macadamia nuts?’ objects Suze.
‘I don’t know!’ I say defensively. ‘I’ll say, “They’re really nutty, aren’t they?”’
‘And what will you say about kettlebells? Have you ever even seen a kettlebell?’
‘That’s not the point. Lois’s done a kettlebell DVD, so it’s a good conversational topic.’
We’re in my room getting ready for the Actors’ Society Awards or ‘ASAs’, as everyone calls them. And I can’t help feeling a little bit hyper. I have to get it right tonight. I have to make a good impression. I’ve analysed Lois’s style endlessly over the last few days and I’ve got loads of ideas for her. I think she could go far more young and glam. She wears dresses that are too old for her. And who does her hair?
‘I read another piece in Variety today saying Lois’s career is on the skids,’ says Suze conversationally. ‘Hair up or down?’ She grabs her hair extensions in one hand and piles them in a knot on her head. I look at it critically.
‘Up. That looks amazing. And it isn’t on the skids.’
‘Well, her price has fallen. Apparently she’s really moody. Shannon’s worked with her. Shannon says she’s permanently on the edge.’
‘Shannon’s just jealous,’ I snap.
I’m getting a bit sick of this Shannon. After our departure from The Black Flag, Suze got herself a day’s work as an extra on a TV show called Cyberville and made a new friend called Shannon, who’s been a professional extra for over twenty years. Shannon considers herself an expert on Hollywood and Suze treats all her views with total reverence and keeps spouting them back to me. I mean, honestly. Just because you’ve been in The Matrix, it doesn’t mean you know everything.
‘Lois just needs an exciting new look,’ I say firmly. ‘Which I will give her.’
‘What did Luke say about it?’ Suze turns, her voice muffled by hairpins in her mouth. ‘You never told me.’
‘Oh. Um.’ I play for time by lining my lips carefully, even though I’ve already lined them.
‘He is OK with it, isn’t he?’ Suze gives me a sharp look. ‘Bex, you did tell him, didn’t you?’
‘Look.’ I cast around for the best answer. ‘There’s no point telling him yet.’
‘You have to tell him!’ Suze shoves a sparkly hair clip into her hair. ‘You can’t just join Team Lois and he has no idea!’
‘I haven’t even met Lois properly yet,’ I retort. ‘What if we don’t get on? Then I’ll have told Luke for no reason. I’ll wait till I get hired and then I’ll tell him.’
I don’t want to tell Luke yet about meeting Lois. First, because I secretly know that Suze is right – Luke might raise objections. And secondly, I want to tell him when I’m already a success. I want to prove that I can make it here on my own.
‘What if he sees you making conversation with Lois tonight?’
‘Suze, this isn’t the Cold War! I’m allowed to talk to people! I’ll just say we were chatting. Can you hook me up?’
As Suze starts pulling at the fabric of my corset dress, my phone bleeps with three new texts, all in a row, and I reach for it on a nearby chair.
‘Stop it!’ Suze scolds me. ‘I can’t hook you if you move around. It’s only a text.’
‘It might be an emergency.’
‘It’s probably just Luke.’
‘What do you mean, just Luke?’ I say, punching in my code. ‘I wouldn’t say it’s “just” Tarquin.’
‘Yes you would, you say it all the time.’ Suze wrenches at my dress. ‘Are you sure this is the right size?’
I can’t answer. I’m staring at my phone in a state of shock.
‘Bex?’ Suze pokes me. ‘Hello?’
‘She’s coming,’ I say at last.
‘Who’s coming?’
‘Elinor. Here.’
‘Now?’ says Suze in alarm.
‘No, not now, but soon. In a week or so. I sent her a text, asking her to come, but I never thought she would—’ I turn to face Suze, suddenly petrified. ‘Oh God. What shall I do?’
‘You’ll stage an intervention, remember?’ says Suze. ‘Because you’re so brilliant at conflict resolution, remember?’
‘Right.’ I swallow. ‘Yes.’
Somehow it all sounded better in theory. But the idea that Eli
nor is actually going to get on a plane to LA, and Luke has no idea, and I’ll have the two of them to manage …
‘Suze, you have to help me,’ I say plaintively.
‘I’m not helping you!’ she says at once. ‘Count me out. I always thought it was a bad idea.’
‘It isn’t a bad idea! It’s just … it might be more difficult than I thought.’
‘I thought you were an expert,’ says Suze, rather unfeelingly. ‘I thought you had a variety of techniques up your sleeve and Buddha would guide you with his infinite wisdom.’ She pauses, then adds, ‘Tell you what, I’ll buy you some more wind chimes, if you like.’
‘Very funny.’
‘Well honestly, Bex, you must be nuts. What happened about Elinor’s surgery, anyway?’
‘It was cancelled,’ I say, reading the third text again. ‘It was only a minor procedure on her toe.’
‘Her toe?’ Suze stares at me. ‘I thought she was dying!’
‘So did I,’ I admit.
‘Well, I think you should cancel her. Say you made a mistake and you won’t be here.’ She prods my shoulder. ‘Turn round. There’s one more hook to do.’
I turn round, thinking hard. That’s the obvious option. The easy solution. I could text Elinor back. Tell her not to come; make some excuse. We’ll probably never see her again. But is that really what I want? Is that really for the best for all of us? For Luke? For Minnie?
Suze fixes the last hook in place. ‘There. Done.’ Then she adds, ‘Or you could always say Minnie was ill. I do that all the time if I want to get out of things. Ernie’s had whooping cough about five times, poor little love—’
‘I’m not going to cancel.’ I’m feeling resolute. ‘Elinor and Luke have to sort things out, and I really think I can help them, and the longer I put it off, the harder it’ll be.’
‘God help us.’ Suze stares at me, incredulous. ‘You are going to stage an intervention.’
‘Why not? I’m sure I can do it. With or without help,’ I say pointedly.
‘Who needs help?’ comes Luke’s voice from the corridor, and I stiffen. I hastily turn off my phone and paste on a casual smile.