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Authors: Sophie Kinsella

Tags: #Fiction, #Retail, #Romance

Shopaholic to the Stars (25 page)

BOOK: Shopaholic to the Stars
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‘The actors are having a break,’ he says. ‘So I thought you’d like to look over the set before we head to Wardrobe.’

We follow him to the set, and step cautiously on to the carpet. We’re standing on a real movie set! It’s quite small, but really well designed, with shelves of books and a table with ornaments and a fake window with a velvet curtain.

‘Excuse me,’ says Don as his phone buzzes, ‘I must take this call.’

He steps off the set, and Suze sits on Lady Violet’s chair. ‘Kidnapped,’ she says in a mournful voice. ‘Kidnapped!’

‘Really good!’ I say. ‘D’you think Lady Violet’s dress is a bit bunchy? I think it could be more flattering. I might tell the wardrobe person.’

‘Kidnapped!’ says Suze again, and stares out to the camera, extending her hands as though she’s on a massive London stage and that’s the audience. ‘Oh my God. Kidnapped! Will our nightmare never end?’

‘Everything looks so realistic,’ I say, trailing my hand over a row of fake book spines. ‘Look at this cupboard.’ I rattle the door but it’s stuck fast. ‘It looks so real, but it’s fake, like everything.’ I wander over to the little table. ‘I mean, look at these cakes. They look totally real. They even smell real. It’s so clever.’

‘They might
be
real,’ points out Suze.

‘Of course they’re not real. Nothing on a film set is real. Look.’ I lift one up confidently and take a bite out of it.

Shit. It was real. I have a mouthful of sponge and cream.

‘Bex!’ Suze is staring at me in consternation. ‘That cake is in the film! You can’t
eat
it!’

‘I didn’t mean to!’ I say defensively.

I feel slightly outraged. They shouldn’t have real cakes on a movie set. It goes against the whole spirit of the thing.

I look around, but no one seems to have seen me. What shall I do now? I can’t put half a cake back on the table.

‘OK, we’re going again,’ comes a booming voice. ‘Clear the set!’

Oh God. The actors are returning and I still have half a cake in my hands.

Maybe they won’t notice.

I hastily leave the set, my hands hidden my back, and find a place where I’m almost hidden behind a stone pillar. The two actors are sitting back down on the chairs and everyone is gathering for a new take.

‘Wait a minute.’ A girl dressed all in black comes running on to the set. She squints into the screen of a little camera, then peers at the table. ‘What happened to the other cake?’

Damn.

The actors are looking around blankly, as though they hadn’t even realized there were any cakes in the shot.

‘Cake?’ says the man at last.

‘Yes, cake! There should be six!’ She jabs at her camera screen. ‘What happened to it?’

‘Well, don’t look at me!’ says the man, sounding affronted. ‘I never saw the cake.’

‘Yes you did!’

‘I think there were five,’ says the actress playing Lady Violet.

‘Excuse me,’ says the girl in black tightly. ‘If I say there were six, then there were six, and unless you want to reshoot everything we’ve done this morning I suggest you don’t move the props around.’

‘I didn’t move anything around!’ retorts Lady Violet.

I have to confess. Go
on
, Becky. I force myself to step forward on to the edge of the set and clear my throat.

‘Um, excuse me?’ I say awkwardly. ‘It’s here. Sorry.’

I proffer my hand and everyone stares at the half-eaten, crumby cake. My cheeks are flaming with embarrassment, especially when a chunk falls on the floor. I quickly bend to get it, feeling worse than ever.

‘Shall I put it back on the table?’ I venture. ‘We could hide the eaten side …’

The girl in black raises her eyes to mine disbelievingly.

‘You
ate
a prop?’

‘I didn’t mean to!’ I say hurriedly. ‘I thought it was fake, and I was just biting it to prove it—’

‘I knew it wasn’t fake,’ puts in Suze. ‘I told her. I said, no fake cake could be that good—’

‘Yes it could!’ I object. ‘They have amazing modern technology.’

‘Not
that
amazing—’

‘Anyway.’ A thought suddenly occurs to me. ‘Maybe it’s a good thing. Because would they actually have that many cakes?’ I appeal to Ant. ‘Six is a lot for two people. You don’t want them to look greedy, do you? You don’t want the audience thinking, “No wonder Lady Violet needs a corset if she’s eating all these cakes—”’

‘Enough!’ Ant suddenly flips out. ‘Get these girls off my set!’ He glares at Don. ‘I don’t care who they are, they’re banned.’

Banned?
Suze and I exchange shocked looks.

‘But we’re going to be extras!’ says Suze in dismay.

‘I’m really sorry we disturbed you,’ I say hastily. ‘I didn’t mean to eat the cake. I won’t eat anything else.’

‘Ant, listen a moment,’ Don says soothingly. He hurries over and starts murmuring in Ant’s ear.

I can see Ant shooting us baleful looks, but at last he puffs angrily and says, ‘Fine. Whatever. I need to get
going
.’

I’m holding my breath as Don returns to us and firmly ushers us away from the set.

‘Can we still be extras?’ demands Suze anxiously.

‘Of course!’ he says, smiling tensely. ‘No problem. Let’s just get you to Wardrobe and then … well. What I would recommend is that in the upcoming scene you take more of a
backseat
role.’

‘You mean, don’t talk to the director,’ says Suze. ‘And don’t eat the props.’

He nods. ‘That kind of thing.’

‘Hear that, Bex?’ Suze nudges me. ‘No scoffing the set.’

OK, I’m going to make amends. I’m going to be really quiet and unobtrusive on set. Or at least, as unobtrusive as I can be, bearing in mind I’m now in a curly red wig, blackened teeth, hoop skirt and a laced bodice which makes my boobs look … Well.
Prominent
would be one word.
Ridiculous
would be another.

My make-up was slapped on in about five seconds by a girl listening to an iPod, but still, I’m transformed! I look dirty, grimy, wrinkled and kind of scary. As for Suze, she looks like an old crone. She’s got a black matted wig and some kind of tooth plate which changes the shape of her mouth, and warts all over her hands. She’s walking around with a limp and, honestly, she looks just like a pirate. I’m not doing a limp, but I think I might do a little palsied shake in my hands. Or a twitch. Just a very subtle one.

We’ve been put in a side room and all the other extras are sitting around reading books and looking bored, but I’m roaming about, staying alert. The only slight downside is I haven’t yet managed to speak to anyone about job opportunities in Wardrobe. Renée Slattery is nowhere to be seen, and all the wardrobe staff are quite harassed. I asked a question about my petticoat length, and the girl in charge said, ‘Doesn’t matter. Next?’

Doesn’t matter? How can a petticoat not matter?

Then I asked her how she got into her job, and she said, ‘I was idiot enough to want to get up at five a.m. my whole life,’ which is
not
an answer, and shooshed me along.

‘Background actors!’ The second AD, Dino, is standing at the door. ‘Background actors to set, please!’

Ooh! That’s us!

As we file through the soundstage and on to the set, I feel a sizzle of excitement. It’s really happening! I’m going to be in a film! This set is far bigger than the last one and is the inside of a ship’s cabin. There are about ten extras, including me and Suze – all women – and according to a conversation I overheard just now, this is a really key, important scene.

A key, important scene! What if it becomes one of those really famous movie scenes that gets shown on the telly all the time and I’m in it! What if I get discovered! I feel a ridiculous flicker of hope. I mean, I know I’ve never really considered acting as a career, but what if I have the right face for film and I never realized it before?

I’m gripped by a vivid fantasy in which Ant suddenly stops the shooting and focuses the camera on me, and then turns to his assistant and says, simply, ‘My God. Look at her cheekbones.’

I mean, OK, I know it’s not
that
likely. But I do have quite good cheekbones, and everything’s different when you look at it through a camera and—

‘Bex!’ Suze prods me. ‘Dino’s calling you!’

I hurry over to Dino and look expectantly at him, hoping he might say something like, ‘I’d like to audition you for the small part of Pirate Princess.’

‘OK, you. Cake-eater girl.’ He looks up from a list.

Cake-eater girl?

‘I’m called Becky,’ I tell him.

‘Nice.’ He’s clearly not listening. ‘Now, I’m placing you where Ant can’t see you. We don’t want him wound up any further. You’ll be polishing Gwennie’s shoes with this rag, and you stay in this position the whole scene. Keep your face down, away from the camera. Got it?
Away
from the camera.’ He turns away, summoning the next girl and I stare at him, crestfallen.

Away from the camera? But no one will see me. What about my family? I want to wail. How will they know it’s me?

I feel totally crushed as I get into position, grovelling on the floor and clutching a manky old rag. This isn’t what I imagined at all. A girl who looks a bit like April Tremont has sat down on the chair and shoots me an uninterested glance. I guess she’s the stand-in.

‘People!’ Dino is clapping his hands. ‘A little background to the scene we’ll be playing. The pirates’ womenfolk are preparing for the marriage ceremony. Gwennie, played by April Tremont …’ There’s a burst of applause from some of the extras, and Dino smiles in acknowledgement. ‘Gwennie is being given to the pirate bandit, Eduardo, played by Curt Millson. However, she’s in love with the rival pirate Captain Arthur, aka captain of the
Black Flag
, and in this scene we’ll see this fact being discovered by Eduardo.’

‘Hi,’ I say miserably to the stand-in. ‘I have to polish your shoes.’

‘Fine.’ She lifts up her skirt and I rub her shoe dispiritedly.

‘OK, we’re going to rehearse!’ comes Dino’s voice. ‘Action!’

‘Marriage to Eduardo,’ says the stand-in, in a monotone. ‘Never while I’m alive.’ She takes out a scarf and fondles it. ‘Oh, Arthur.’

‘Background actors,’ instructs Dino. ‘I want you to look at the scarf. You’re interested in it.’

Obediently I crick my head to look at the scarf, but Dino immediately says, ‘Not you, cake-eater girl.’

Great. Everyone else gets to look at the scarf while I get to grovel on the floorboards. The door swings open with a creak and I hear the tramp of heavy boots.

‘What is that pretty thing?’ comes a deep, masculine voice. ‘Show me.’

‘Never!’ says the stand-in.

Then there’s some sort of tussle, but I can’t see because I don’t dare lift my head. This is so frustrating. I’m
longing
to see what it’s all about, but I can’t see a bloody thing, stuck down here. I’ll never get to do my twitch, let alone say, ‘’Tis true, cap’n.’ It’s so depressing.

‘Cut!’

I sit back on my heels and wave at Suze, trying not to feel envious. It’s OK for her, she’s on a step, where everyone can see her. She’s even been given a proper prop – an old broken comb – and she’s combing her tangled hair with a theatrical flourish.

‘Excuse me.’ A mellifluous voice hits my ear, and a tiny button boot appears in front of my eyes. I look up and feel a jolt of awe. It’s April Tremont! Herself! She’s stepping into the chair, and lifting up her skirts so I can rub at her boots.

‘I guess you’re polishing these,’ she says with a nod. ‘Poor you.’

‘Oh it’s fine!’ I say at once. ‘It’s fun. You know. I love polishing boots. I mean, not just on film sets, I love polishing them at home, and in the garden and … er …’

Argh. Stop babbling, Becky.

‘I’m April,’ she says pleasantly.

Like I didn’t know that. Like she’s not really, really famous.

‘I’m Becky.’

‘You’re the one who ate the cake?’

‘It was a mistake,’ I say hastily.

‘That made me laugh.’ She smiles, that amazing smile which I’ve seen in loads of movies. Well, not loads of movies exactly. Two movies and one sitcom and an ad campaign for moisturizer. But still.

‘April. Curt. A word with you both?’ Ant is heading over this way and I hurriedly bury my face in April’s skirt, so he won’t notice me. Not that he seems to notice any of the extras, anyway.

‘I want some real violence in this scene,’ I hear him saying above my head. ‘Curt, when you see the insignia of your enemy on Gwennie’s scarf, everything changes. You know she’s in love with Arthur, and it infuriates you. Remember, this scene is the pivot; it’s what drives you to attack the Fleet of Foes; it’s what starts the whole chain of events. OK, guys? Passion.
Intensity
. Let’s go for a take.’

Despite everything I can’t help feeling a jolt of excitement. A take! We’re going for a take! It’s happening!

An hour later, I’m feeling a
teeny
bit less excited. We’ve done the scene over and over, and every time I have to keep my head down while all the action goes on above, and I’m getting achy knees from being in this position.

Plus, the more we do the scene, the less I understand it.

‘Are you OK?’ April Tremont smiles down from where she’s having her make-up touched up. ‘Pretty tough down there.’

‘Oh, it’s fine!’ I say at once. ‘Fine! Really fab!’

‘Enjoying the scene?’

‘Er …’ I hesitate. I know I should say, ‘Yes, it’s brilliant!’ But the truth is, I just can’t relate to it.

‘I don’t get it,’ I say at last. ‘But
you’re
really good,’ I add quickly.

‘Which part don’t you get?’ says April, looking interested.

‘Well, why are you playing with your scarf?’

‘It’s a memento from my lover, Arthur,’ explains April. ‘It has his distinctive insignia on it. See?’ She holds the scarf out so I can see.

‘I know that.’ I nod. ‘But you’re on Eduardo’s ship. He’s really violent and he hates Arthur. So wouldn’t you keep it hidden? If you really loved Arthur you’d protect him, surely.’

April Tremont stares at me silently for a few moments. ‘That’s a good point,’ she says. ‘Why
am
I playing with it?’

BOOK: Shopaholic to the Stars
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