She wandered around the various sets they used after the meeting, some of them were replicas of rooms in the house, and she finally found the assistant she was looking for in the library, setting up a shot and piling books on the floor. She looked up when Winnie walked in, and Winnie thought her new boss looked about fourteen years old.
“Hi, I’m Winnie Farmington, I’m your new gofer,” she said without ceremony, and the young red-haired girl looked surprised. She had a face full of freckles and her hair was in braids, which made her look even younger. She was wearing overalls and clogs.
“Aren’t you kind of old to be a gofer?” the girl said bluntly. Her name was Zoe. Winnie smiled at what she’d said.
“I probably am, but I’m here for a while and I wanted a job, and this is about all I can do here, so here I am.”
“What are you in real life?”
“I worked at a printing company in the U.S. for ten years. Not very exciting, but I’m very good at being organized and getting things done.” It seemed like a small skill to show for ten years of work and was hard to explain.
“How are you with putting books all over the floor so it looks like someone had a fit and threw them? Our set dresser is sick today, so I got stuck with it,” Zoe asked hopefully, wanting to reassign the task.
“No problem.” Winnie started pulling books off shelves and placing them in haphazard piles. It took her five minutes to do it, and Zoe had her get everyone’s lunch orders, and then bring them back from the commissary truck. There were dozens of assistants of varying kinds, as well as hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, costumers, seamstresses, four people just to deal with the hats, five who worked on the wigs for the entire cast. And all kinds of technical people, for sound and light, mixers for the music. It was interesting to learn what everyone did. Bringing back lunch on a rolling cart was a good way to see all their faces, and write down their names, although she knew she’d never remember them all. In the end, she had brought lunch back for forty people, and only a few stuck out. The stars were served lunch in their trailers, or they could go to the commissary truck. The people she’d gotten lunch for preferred to eat on the set, and a particularly tall young man thanked her, and asked if he could have a second sandwich, so she went back and got him another one. He was a sound technician, and his name was Nigel. He thanked her when she handed him the second sandwich and she saw him staring at her as she walked away.
The day flew by doing small assignments for everyone whenever she was asked. She got to watch a scene being shot, but most of the time she was too busy, looking for some object that was lost, or tracking down another one, or satisfying someone’s whim for candy, or a sweater, or a pair of socks, or softer towels, better tissue, their favorite mineral water, or the kind of toilet paper they liked. She was a combination requisition officer/magician, and she managed to find everything they asked for, and even walked the dog of one of the stars. It was a Jack Russell that tried to bite her the minute she was out of her mistress’s sight. But Winnie didn’t mention it when she brought her back. Zoe let her leave at seven-thirty when all the actors were off the set, and Winnie was surprised by how tired she was when she walked back to the cottage. She’d been on her feet, and running, for eleven hours. The day had been kind of a treasure hunt, without a map.
“How was your day?” Mrs. Flannagan asked her when she walked in.
“Fun. I don’t think I sat down all day. They all want special stuff, and expect me to find it, or invent it out of thin air. But actually, it’s kind of challenging in a menial way.” She’d also had to find an unusual kind of hypoallergenic lip balm, and a special kind of surgical glue for one of the makeup artists, who was pulling up one of the older actresses’ face with elastics under her wig. She had learned some of the tricks of the trade, just watching what they did all day. There was a lot of artifice involved. This was show biz!
Winnie sat down in the kitchen, and was almost too tired to eat Mrs. Flannagan’s shepherd’s pie, but she made the effort to please her. And then she went to bed right after dinner, and woke up with a start at 6:00 A.M. She had to be back on the set at seven, and this time she put a little kit together, with needles, thread, safety pins, two kinds of tape, super glue, several colored rubber bands. They were the things everyone seemed to ask for most. She even took a spot remover from her own travel kit. And this time she wore jeans and running shoes, which seemed more appropriate to the job, and a T-shirt and sweater. It was a sunny day, but there was still a chill in the air.
She dealt with most of the same people and a few new faces and the same sound technician asked her for two sandwiches again, and he smiled broadly when he saw her.
“We haven’t run you off yet?”
“No, I’m enjoying it,” she said honestly, as she sank down on a stool to rest for two minutes before they asked her for something else. They just looked at her and thought of things they needed or had to have.
“How’d you end up here?” Nigel was curious about her. “You’re from the States, right?”
She nodded. “Michigan. Beecher, Michigan, home of record-breaking tornadoes, and not much else.”
“I’m from Leighton Buzzard,” he supplied, although she had no idea where it was. “It’s near London.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he prodded her. “Why here?”
“Because I love the show. I quit my job and I had nothing else to do, so I thought I’d check it out. And now I have a job. It’s worked out pretty well, so far.”
“Lucky for us,” he said with a smile and went back to work. He was doing a sound check of the mikes before the next scene. A minute later, Zoe called her away, and asked her to walk the Jack Russell again. It was the only part of the job she didn’t like. She was a nasty little thing and she barked the minute she saw Winnie coming, and snarled when Winnie reached down to pet her.
The time flew by and each day was different. Everyone seemed to like her. Some more than others. Nigel was constantly finding excuses to talk to her.
They all had the weekend off, and as she was getting ready to leave, he wandered over. “Can I interest you in dinner tonight or tomorrow?” He looked nervous as he asked her. He was sure she’d turn him down. She was a pretty woman, and he figured she probably had a dozen men pounding on her door, or maybe one she already lived with. He had noticed that she didn’t wear a wedding band, which he took as a hopeful sign. Winnie hesitated when he asked her. She hadn’t thought about dating anyone so soon after Rob. But Nigel didn’t seem like a serious threat, and she thought they could just be pals.
“Sure,” she responded, and thanked him. “How about tonight?” She was thinking about renting a car and exploring the countryside on Saturday.
“Sounds great. Where do you live? I’ll pick you up.” She told him, and he said he knew where it was, and said he would fetch her in his chariot at eight o’clock, which was only an hour away. She barely had time to change. But she put on a skirt instead of jeans, and nicer shoes with little heels.
Nigel arrived promptly in a battered Jeep, and she hopped in next to him. He took her to a Vietnamese restaurant he had discovered, where he said the food was very good.
“All right. So tell me everything. Husbands, kids, why you came here, brothers, sisters,” he asked her at dinner.
She smiled at the question. “That’s easy, no husbands, no kids, no brothers, one sister. I quit a job and broke up with my boyfriend of eleven years, all on the same day, and now here I am.” She made it sound easy, but it wasn’t. She didn’t mention Barb. It still hurt too much. And she still missed Rob at times. He was familiar, but she didn’t want to think about him after what he’d done.
“That is simple. I’ve got four siblings, no wife, no girlfriend, and a black Lab named Jocko my brother takes care of when I’m away. I’m the only one in my family not married, so they think I’m weird. And I’m
not gay.”
“Then why aren’t you married?” she asked him.
“I’m a nomad, always working on a show or a movie. No time for girls.” He grinned. “And it’s a temporary life. Working on shows is like being in the merchant marine. I’m always shipping out somewhere. And I always seem to get shows that go on location a lot. This one’s pretty tame. But you never know how long it will last.”
“Six years sounds pretty good to me,” she said, after they ordered dinner.
“They can cancel a show anytime. The show gets stale, or they want to leave on a high note. Or three of the stars want to leave and it falls apart. You never know what’s going to happen.” She had never thought of that, and hoped that Beauchamp never fell apart. She’d be crushed. “You move around a lot in this business.”
“Sounds good to me,” she said, thinking about it. She liked Nigel. He seemed like a nice guy. He was easy to talk to and wasn’t full of himself. “I’ve been sitting at the same desk for ten years. That gets pretty old.”
“Is that why you quit? So you could come here?”
“No, I got passed over for a promotion I should have gotten, and I got pissed.”
“And the boyfriend?” He wanted to know all about her. There was something about her that he liked. She had spirit, but just enough. She didn’t seem like one of those pushy women who wanted to compete with a man all the time, or that was the impression she gave him. There was a gentleness to her, but she had her own ideas. She hesitated before she answered his question, and then decided to be honest. It was simpler.
“I walked in on him having sex with my best friend. In my bed.”
“Ah, a true gentleman. Classic. So you came here?” She nodded.
“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and a dream come true. I always wanted to get out of my hometown. And I did, for college, but then my mother got sick, so I went back. I nursed her for seven years, and after she died, it seemed too late to leave, so I stayed.”
“And you’re thirty-two?…four…five?”
“Thank you! Thirty-eight.” She smiled.
“I beat you. I’m thirty-nine. I had one of those walk-in-on-them experiences too, about ten years ago. Also with my best friend. I think it’s a pretty standard gig. I was very upset. They got married, and have a house full of kids now. I never forgave them for it, though.” A pained and still-angry look flitted across his eyes, and then disappeared.
“I don’t think I will forgive them either. It’s an unforgettable experience. She was tied to my bed.”
“Exotic.” She didn’t tell him about the porn.
Their dinner came then and it was delicious. The conversation was easy and light, and he drove her back to Mrs. Flannagan’s afterwards. They talked about a lot of the movies he had worked on, there were some big ones, with big-name stars.
“I had a really lovely time, Nigel, thank you,” she said as she got out.
“What are you doing tomorrow? We may not get another day off for a long time.” She told him about her plan to rent a car, and explore the surrounding area. “Why don’t you let me drive you? I’ve been here for four years and know it pretty well.” He looked hopeful and she liked the idea.
“That would be great.”
“I’ll pick you up at ten. Bring a bathing suit. There are some nice beaches around here.” She had thrown a bathing suit into her suitcase at the last minute, in case she stayed at a hotel with a pool. She nodded, and waved as she went inside and walked upstairs to her room, thinking about him. She hadn’t thought she wanted to date yet, and didn’t think it would come up while she was here. But she had enjoyed the evening with Nigel. And he seemed like just what she needed right now. A friendly, pleasant person with no strings attached, no agenda, and no complications. He seemed like an easygoing guy.
Chapter Seven
Nigel and Winnie spent Saturday cruising around in his Jeep. They drove to a monastery he knew, which was a spectacular building he wanted to show her, and from there they went to a beach, and went swimming. They lay on the sand afterwards talking, watching children wade into the water and picnic with their parents. They had lunch at a nearby inn, and ate sausages called “bangers,” then drove around some more. They talked a lot about their childhoods, their families, and their dreams. She loved his openness and kindness and how different he was from Rob.
Nigel wanted to have his own sound business one day, and Winnie said how much she had wanted to move to New York, before her mother got sick. He had her back to Burnham by 6:00 P.M. Her reason for leaving him early wasn’t glamorous but honest, she had laundry to do that night. She was too busy to do it when she was working, and she didn’t want to take advantage of Mrs. Flannagan, although she was a good sport about it, and was always offering to help.
They were both in good spirits and had enjoyed each other’s company and the relaxing day, and they both reluctantly turned their phones back on, as they approached the cottage. They had agreed to turn them off all day, so no one could intrude on them. As soon as Nigel turned his on, he had a slew of messages, texts, and voice mails. He listened to a few of them, and looked at Winnie in shocked dismay.
“Something wrong?” she asked, and he nodded.
“Very much so. It’s Tom White.” He turned to her with a stricken look and tears in his eyes. “He went riding today with some of the cast.” Winnie knew he was an avid rider from what she’d read about him. He even rode in a fancy hunt regularly. “He had an accident, and was killed an hour ago. He broke his neck.” Nigel said he knew Tom had a daughter in London. She had visited him on the set. Tom White was one of the more important members of the cast, with a dedicated following. But aside from that, he was a nice human being, and only forty-six years old. Winnie stared at Nigel for a moment, trying to absorb what he’d just said. They’d been driving around having a good time all day, and Tom White was dead. “I’ll call the producer after I drop you off. This is going to throw them into a tizzy,” Nigel said, looking distracted and anxious.
“What’ll they do about the show?” Winnie asked him. It seemed unimportant in the scheme of life, but would matter to the producer.
“They have to write him out, but there’s no way to prepare the viewers in a case like this. There will be a reaction from his fans to whatever scenario they come up with, and the ratings will suffer.” But his daughter would suffer more. They were both somber when they left each other, and Mrs. Flannagan had just learned of it too. She’d heard it on the radio. And someone had told her that reporters were already gathering at the hospital and the castle to interview members of the cast and production team, and photograph grieving people who knew him.
“That’s really so sad,” Mrs. Flannagan commented to Winnie before she went upstairs. He was one of the actors she liked best on the show. He was also one of the most likable members of the fictional Beauchamp family.
The atmosphere was funereal on the set the next day. An announcement was made to the entire crew, management, and all the stars. Matthew Stevens, the originator and writer of the show, went into seclusion, to try to write Tom out and find a solution for the storyline. It wasn’t easy and there were other scenes they’d have to reshoot without him.
Tom’s body was being sent to his family in Hertfordshire, and there was to be a memorial service for the cast and crew organized by Michael Waterman, the executive producer, in two days. Tom’s death was bound to sink everyone’s spirits for a while. He had been on the show since the beginning and it was a huge loss, personally and for the show. He was a lovely person and added a strong element to the show.
By the end of the day, Matthew was still struggling to make the changes he had to, when the executive producer walked into the office he used in the castle, and sat down heavily across from him.
“Not good news,” Michael said as Matthew dreaded what would come next. “Miranda Charles
wants to leave the show. Apparently, she’s been waiting to tell us, and she thought she should do it now, with Tom gone, while you’re working on new storylines.” He rolled his eyes as he said it. Her timing was atrocious. It was always all about her. “She’s had an offer to do a play.” It was what they both hated about their jobs, the unpredictability of actors. They’d had losses before, but never as big as this, and not two at a time. It could kill the show. The viewers needed to be weaned gently from characters they loved, not brutally like this. Both men knew the ratings would drop as a result. It couldn’t be helped about Tom White, but Miranda was pure self-indulgence. She was a total narcissist.
“Oh shit,” Matthew said grimly. “Should we let her go or fight her on it?” They could hold her to her contract, but she’d punish them for it.
“I hate hostages,” Michael Waterman said. “They make one’s life miserable every way they can. Do you think the show would survive our losing both of them at once?” He looked seriously worried.
“I’ll do my best with the writing. But it’s hard to predict how attached the viewers are to them.” It was going to affect every script for a long time. Matthew took his computer home with him that night, and worked intensely for several days, considering the options for new plot lines, and new characters to complete the cast without Tom, and now Miranda. Everyone else went to the memorial service and Matthew slipped in at the last minute. The press was there en masse. Winnie saw Lady Beatrice and her brother, but Winnie was too far away in a rear pew for the owner of the castle to notice her. It was particularly moving with Tom’s daughter there, sobbing in his ex-wife’s arms. It brought things into sharp focus for everyone how short life was, and how everything could change in the blink of an eye.
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