Stephen Leather - Take Two

‘You’re sure? I’ve had the network on and they’re asking for rushes. Is there anything we can send them?’

‘Paul, really, she’s fine.’

Day looked at his watch. ‘Where is she?’

‘Make-up. We’ve shot the hairdressing scene and we’ve got to tidy the hair up. We’ll be ready to go in about twenty minutes.’

‘Can you show me what you shot?’

‘Sure.’

‘No pressure, I just need to reassure Sally and Lisa.’

‘Paul, it’s fine.’

‘I just don’t want you to think I’m second-guessing you.’

‘Thought hadn’t even crossed my mind,’ she said as she walked with him over to her monitors. Her script editor, Jamie, was in one of the seats, checking timings. ‘Sorry, Jamie, can we sit down?’ asked Phillippa.

Jamie scuttled away and Day and Phillippa dropped down into the canvas seats. Phillippa hit the playback button and the black and white screen flickered into life.

Day groaned when he heard Jenny’s Australian accent. ‘Don’t worry, that was the first take,’ said Phillippa. She fast-forwarded the video and pressed play again. It was one of the takes of the final part of the scene where Diana was on the phone to her lawyer. Jenny was sitting in the chair and the camera was behind her and to the side giving a double shot of her in the mirror. Day nodded his approval. It was a clever bit of camerawork.

Jenny was looking off-screen as she spoke. ‘I’m not going to pay a penny more than twenty-grand,’ she said, her voice virtually indistinguishable from Carolyn’s. ‘And I don’t care what their lawyer says.’ Jenny frowned and nodded as if she was listening to someone on the other end of the line. ‘Well, I’m the one paying your extortionate bills, Ronnie, and if you want that state of affairs to continue then I suggest you go back to them and tell them that twenty-five grand is our final offer.’ Jenny ended the call, shook her head and tossed her mobile into her bag. ‘What was it Shakespeare said? First kill all the lawyers? He knew what he was talking about.’ She sat back in the chair and looked at her reflection, then tilted her head to one side. ‘Maybe I should go blonde? I might have more fun.’

Day laughed as the scene came to an end. ‘Brilliant,’ he said. ‘Lighting could have been a bit more subtle but she hit it just right.’ He sat back in the chair and stretched out his legs. ‘Get me a copy of that by this afternoon, will you. I’ll courier it over to the network.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘It’s going to work, isn’t it?’

Phillippa nodded enthusiastically. ‘I think it is. She learns quickly.’ She switched off the recorder. ‘What about Carolyn? Any news?’

Day shook his head. ‘I’ve been on to her agent again and he hasn’t heard from her. Laura’s ringing around the Priory and the usual suspects.’

‘You think she booked herself into a clinic?’

‘She’s done it before,’ said Day, standing up. ‘Or she might be playing some negotiating game with the network.’

‘She’d do that?’

‘Who knows? But if that is her game, it’s backfired now that Jenny has turned up. It’s a bit hard to argue you’re invaluable when your twin sister can do the same job.’ He flashed her a thumbs-up. ‘You’re doing great, Phillippa. Just make sure you keep it up.’

Terry’s mobile rang and he reached for it. The caller was withholding his number, which Terry always hated. So far as Terry was concerned, getting a call with the ID blocked was akin to opening your front door and finding someone there wearing a ski mask. It was just plain rude. He considered ignoring the call but curiosity got the better of him and he answered. ‘Terry?’

Terry didn’t recognise the voice. ‘Yeah?’

‘It’s Warwick, Warwick Richards.’

Terry frowned. ‘Yes?’ he said cautiously.

‘I’m just calling to see if Carolyn’s turned up.’

The door opened and a runner appeared. He was a young man in his twenties in an Arran sweater and green corduroy pants. Terry wasn’t sure what qualities the lad had shown to get hired but dress sense clearly wasn’t on the list. Terry put his hand over the phone. ‘What’s up?’ he asked.

‘The director wants a briefcase, anything will do,’ he said.

‘Who’ll be carrying it?’

‘One of the extras.’

‘Male? Female? Young? Old?’

‘A man. In a suit.’

Terry pointed at a rack to the runner’s left. ‘Take the brown leather one.’ The runner grabbed the briefcase and dashed out. Terry took his hand away from the phone. ‘Sorry, Warwick, you were asking about Carolyn? No, she’s still not turned up.’

‘And no one has any idea where she is?’

‘The word is she might be holed up in a rehab somewhere, but no one knows for sure. She was okay when you saw her, right? On Saturday? She was seeing you on the boat, wasn’t she?’

‘Yeah, she turned up and had a couple of glasses of wine. I dropped her home early evening.’

‘And she was okay then?’

‘She was fine. Does anyone have any idea what might have happened?’

‘She’s gone AWOL before, Warwick. She’s had a bit of a drink problem and she’s booked herself into clinics. We usually find out a few days later.’

‘She wasn’t drinking heavily with me.’

‘She keeps it well hidden,’ said Terry.

‘I hope she’s all right.’

‘I’m sure she is,’ said Terry. ‘Like I said, it’s not the first time. She’ll be in the Priory or some other dry-out clinic with her feet up. During the first few days, they cut off all contact with the outside but we’ll get a call from her agent eventually. Anyway, I’ll tell her you called.’

‘Cheers, Terry. Oh, how’s Jenny getting on?’

‘You met Jenny?’

‘I went around to Carolyn’s house on Sunday night. ‘

‘Yeah? She didn’t mention it. She’s actually in the studio as we speak.’

‘Yeah?’

‘The producer decided to let her fill in for Carolyn.’

‘How’s that working out?’

‘Surprisingly well,’ said Terry. ‘She has to lose the Australian accent, obviously, and we’ve had to play around with her hair. But she’s doing a good job. I think the network execs are half hoping Carolyn doesn’t come back and they can sign Jenny up for half the money.’

‘Are you serious?’

Terry laughed. ‘Nah, Carolyn’s a star and Jenny’s just filling in for her.’

‘Well, if you do hear from her, get her to give me a call. And tell Jenny I was asking after her. She can give me a call, too, if she gets a chance. And it’d be good to see you in the club some time, Terry. I’ll leave your name on the VIP list.’

‘Thanks for that,’ said Terry, but Richards had already ended the call.

CHAPTER 81

Peter Sessions jumped as his phone rang. He had been deep in thought, halfway through the Daily Telegraph crossword. He had just got back from lunch with a client, an up and coming young actor on Emmerdale, during which they had consumed two bottles of a very good Burgundy. He picked up the receiver. It was Paul Day.

‘Peter, just checking in to see if you’d heard from Carolyn.’

‘Afraid not, old boy,’ said Sessions, leaning back in his chair.

‘And, hand on heart, you’ve no idea what’s going on?’ asked Day.

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because if this turns out to be a negotiating ploy, I’ll have your guts for garters.’

‘That’s not an expression you hear a lot these days,’ said Sessions.

‘I’m old school,’ said Day.

‘What’s happened on the shooting front?’ asked Sessions. ‘Are you shooting around her?’

‘Her sister’s filling in for the time being,’ said Day.