by Matt Cain
The Third eventually led them to a crashed, partly wrecked German tank, marooned in front of what must have been a rather twee café before it had been blasted to smithereens. He explained that they were supposed to be playing a two-man tank team who’d been forced to fight for their lives when the back of their vehicle had been blown away by the Americans. Ronnie was to peep out of the cockpit and operate the tank’s machine gun while Leo’s character had jumped out of the vehicle and was to crouch by the side of it firing his gun.
‘Way to go!’ yelped Ronnie, jumping straight into position. ‘This rocks!’
He grabbed hold of the fixed machine gun and began swivelling it around, making his own shooting sounds as he fired at imaginary enemies. ‘Achtung!’ he shouted. ‘Achtung! Achtung!’
‘Do you actually know what that means?’ Leo joked.
‘No but it’s the only German I know. And what do you care anyway? You keep an eye on your girlfriend over there – it looks to me like she’s getting pretty close to Billy.’
Leo looked over and saw that Mia was sitting in the same position but now chatting to Billy next to her. She’d taken hold of his hand and was stroking it as she talked to him. Leo wondered if they were actually a couple after all. He had to stop himself feeling a snag of jealousy. Don’t be daft, he thought, she’s not interested in you. You’re a paparazzo, remember? Just concentrate on taking your pictures.
He took his first shots of the day by pressing the cable release wired into his pocket. He was thankful of the tank to hide behind and ducked down whenever Mia glanced in his direction. He soon started to relax – there was no chance he’d get caught as the tank provided more than enough cover. And best of all, he was near enough to the star couple to get his shots but far enough away not to be spotted.
Mia and Billy burst into a fit of giggles and Leo snapped away. He had to admit, they did look like they were pretty close. He tried not to think about it but to revert to seeing them as simple targets for his shots.
‘Ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-raaaaar!’
Ronnie was spellbound by his new toy. In fact, he was so carried away that he’d forgotten why they were on set in the first place and, as usual, was missing out on the important shots. It didn’t matter – Leo always shared his pictures with him anyway.
‘Ra-ra-ra-raaar!’
Mia threw her arms around Billy and Leo pressed again on the device in his pocket. He couldn’t help replaying in his mind his meeting with Mia – he’d been sure that right at the end of their conversation there’d been a frisson of attraction. He told himself not to even think about it. And anyway, like Ronnie said, she probably hadn’t given him a second thought. Even if she had, she wouldn’t be thinking of him as a person but only as a paparazzo.
He watched as Mia leaned over to Billy and kissed him on the cheek.
With a lump in his throat Leo continued shooting.
*
‘OK kids,’ barked the director. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’
War of Words was being directed by Tyler Bracket, a fifty-something redhead who somehow managed to combine a professional flair for visuals with a shockingly bad sense of personal style. Today she was wearing some kind of traditional ethnic costume, including a long lace skirt, a colourful shawl and a turban-style headscarf, all of which she’d accessorized with Ugg boots and Ray-Ban shades.
Tyler sat down with Mia and Billy to talk them through the scene. She explained that they were about to shoot the moment when Billy’s character, seriously wounded and nursed by Mia in the middle of a violent and chaotic battle, dies tragically in her arms. This wasn’t any different to what they’d shot last time around, except that this time, when Mia ripped open Billy’s shirt to treat his injuries (handily exposing his impressively muscular chest in the process), she’d find a romantic poem he’d written for her taped to his heart. This would then prompt a whole new sequence to end the film, one that would hopefully go down much better with cinemagoers around the world.
‘Come on kids,’ rasped Tyler with a flounce of her shawl, ‘it’s show time!’
They began rehearsing and, as usual, Mia drew on her own experiences to turn on the tears at just the required moment. It wasn’t difficult. All she had to do was think of how it had felt to come home at the age of nine to find that the charismatic, sparky father she’d worshipped and adored had suddenly walked out on his family without even saying goodbye, leaving them with an avalanche of his gambling debts and the humiliation of being told in a brief note that he’d dumped them in favour of a trashy blonde who lived in a trailer park and worked in the local gas station. As well as dealing with her own pain, Mia had been forced to witness her mother’s sparkle instantly fade and then continue to gradually ebb away over the next decade, until she eventually died a few years ago after a long and devastating battle with breast cancer. Mia only had to picture her mother lying in her hospital bed the last time she’d seen her for the tears to start welling up in her eyes.
By the time she received her cue to find the poem strapped to Billy’s chest, she was in full flow. As she held up the crumpled paper to read it, angled towards a camera ready to zoom in on her shattered expression, she was surprised to find her mind drifting once again to Leo and to what Billy had said about their date. Maybe she was making a big mistake going out with him after all. Maybe he would film the whole thing on a hidden camera and then sell his story.
However the date turned out, something inside her told her that she simply had to go through with it. Just for curiosity, she reassured herself, not for any other reason.
*
‘Final checks!’ came a booming voice over a loudspeaker.
Leo stopped snapping as Mia and Billy were separated by an army of hair and make-up girls and disappeared under a buzz of activity. In the midst of the mêlée he spotted Dominique reappear to touch up Billy’s wounds.
‘You know, I’ve been thinking about this date,’ said Ronnie, finally stepping back from his machine gun. ‘How are you going to make sure you’re not followed? I mean, have you actually thought this through? What happens when the rest of the paps see you out on a date with one of the biggest stars in town?’
‘Standby!’ shouted the same voice over the loudspeaker.
‘Aha,’ said Leo, stepping into position, ‘I was hoping you’d help me out with that one. What with you being my trusted partner and everything.’
‘Me?’
‘Yeah. You see I’ve come up with this genius plan. And with you on side I know it can’t go wrong . . .’
‘Uh-oh. Now you’re starting to sound like a major suck-up. What exactly have you got in mind, Leo?’
Before he had time to elaborate, he was interrupted by another blast of the loudspeaker.
‘ACTION!’
They picked up their guns, aimed at the enemy and began shooting.
5
Ronnie was standing in his living room wearing a long blonde wig, pale pink lipstick and mascara that was getting in his eyes and making him twitch. He’d already had to shave off all his stubble, endure his entire body being waxed of its considerable covering of dark hair, and then struggle through the agony of having his eyebrows plucked to near-obliteration. If this was what being a woman was like, then he sure was glad to be a guy.
‘Man, the things I do for Leo.’
His wife Rosie was putting the finishing touches to her creation. A Boston-born beautician, Rosie had met Ronnie when he’d papped Destiny Diament having her nails done through the windows of her salon and she’d stormed outside to defend her client armed with a hose normally used for washing hair. Within seconds Ronnie was drenched and his brand-new camera ruined. It had been a fittingly tempestuous start to a relationship that ever since had lurched from one fight to another. But their bust-ups were always followed by passionate make-ups and after being together for three years both of them knew they’d struggle to live without each other.
‘You look real beautiful, honey,’ coo
ed Rosie. ‘Quite the leading lady.’
‘Man, I need a smoke.’
‘I’ve told you, Ronnie, not in the house.’
‘Huh! You think I’m going out like this?’
Ronnie lit a cigarette and Rosie gave a loud huff.
‘OK, I’ll let it go – just this once. But I’ll kick you back into touch once you’ve got through tonight.’
Ronnie smiled weakly and took a deep drag on his cigarette.
Laid out on the sofa were three dresses for him to try on. Only five feet tall and of a petite frame herself, Rosie had had to borrow some larger dresses from a big-boned hulk of a girl called Patty who worked as a rather hopeless junior stylist at the salon. Ronnie always joked about her looking like a man in drag so had suggested that her wardrobe might be a good fit. Of course Rosie hadn’t told Patty the real reason she needed the dresses, inventing some fiction about a cousin visiting from Boston and her luggage going missing on the plane. The whole thing was being done in top secret, which was why they couldn’t risk hiring a female decoy. And Rosie was off the hook as her mixed-race skin meant there was no way she could pass for baby-blonde Mia. Which was where Ronnie came in.
‘I’ll try that one,’ he said, pointing to a rather Eighties-looking, sequinned dress with shoulder pads.
‘Ooh, you like that one, do you?’ Rosie teased.
‘Give me a break, babe. I just picked the black one because Mia’s assistant told me she’d be wearing black.’
‘OK, OK! Don’t be so touchy.’
Ronnie slipped on the dress over his underwear, managing to knock his wig skew-whiff in the process. Rosie fixed the damage then stood back to take in the finished look. Thankfully the dress was a perfect fit.
‘Hmm, not bad,’ she nodded. ‘Not bad at all.’
Ronnie suspected that he looked grotesque but she didn’t have the heart to tell him. He looked in the mirror and couldn’t help thinking that he looked like some kind of cross-dressing psycho from a dark, intense crime thriller.
‘Let’s see you walk up and down,’ Rosie chirped. ‘You know, get into character a little.’
‘Hi Rosie, I’m Mia Sinclair,’ he grunted, plodding across the room. As if to make up for the fact that he was dressed as a woman, he deepened his voice, was walking bow-legged like John Wayne, and smoked with his cigarette pinched between his thumb and finger, like some kind of hoodie from the Bronx. It was quite a combination.
‘Great,’ managed Rosie feebly. ‘You look real great.’
‘Yeah,’ he sighed. ‘I sure hope Mia’s car has blacked-out windows.’
*
Leo stood waiting in the underground car park of the offices of Mia’s agent in Beverly Hills. This had been designated as the rendezvous point by her assistant Hector, who she’d appointed as co-ordinator of tonight’s activities. Leo had only spoken to Hector on the phone a few times but he sounded nice enough. He always seemed to have lush Latino power ballads playing in the background and made no secret of the fact that he thought the whole escapade was thrillingly romantic. As Leo stood on his own in a drab concrete car park, he’d have struggled to imagine a less promising start to a romantic evening. Was he being completely insane? He was starting to wonder . . .
He heard a car coming through the security gates above and hoped it wasn’t Mia. As usual, Ronnie was late and Leo was starting to worry that she’d arrive before him and end up in a bad mood before their date had even begun. He breathed a sigh of relief as he recognized Ronnie’s car.
Ronnie parked alongside Leo and stomped out of his car in a sulk.
‘Don’t you dare say anything, Leo.’
‘But mate, you look amazing.’
‘Yeah, right. Sure I do.’
‘No, honestly, I could almost fancy you – you actually look quite fit.’
‘The word’s “hot”, Limey. And quit hitting on me – I’m way out of your league.’
Before Leo could carry on the banter they heard another car approaching from upstairs. Leo gulped. He hadn’t realized just how nervous he was until now. What is it with this woman? How does she do this to me?
Mia slid her car into the space next to Ronnie’s and Leo was relieved to see that it had tinted windows; without them there’d be no way the paps would mistake Ronnie for Mia. Sure, he was the right colouring but he was too stocky and his little ears stuck out way too much to ever pass for a female film star.
The butterflies in his stomach began fluttering up his throat as he watched Mia park up and swiftly step out. She closed the door and strode towards them without so much as a smile. Leo saw that, like Ronnie, she was wearing black but unlike him she looked stunning. He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach and struggled to catch his breath.
‘Come on then,’ she said, without saying hello to either of them, ‘let’s get on with it.’
‘Erm, hi Mia,’ he mumbled, ‘this is my partner, Ronnie.’
Mia looked Ronnie up and down with a straight face, as if his get-up were totally normal. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she quipped matter-of-factly. ‘Now what’s the plan?’
Leo explained that Ronnie would drive out of the building in Mia’s car to fool the paps on her trail. He’d take them on a wild goose chase around town for an hour or so until the coast was definitely clear, at which stage he’d drive the car up to Mia’s house, where Hector would be waiting for him.
‘OK and how do we get to the restaurant?’
Leo gestured to his motorbike.
‘Huh!’ Mia snorted and turned up her nose. ‘There’s no way I’m getting on that thing!’
‘Why not? It’s perfectly safe. I’ve brought you a spare helmet.’
‘Yeah and I can imagine how many girls have worn that.’
Leo looked down bashfully. Ronnie shot him a look that clearly meant I told you so.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ Mia said, ‘but I just can’t do it. I mean, how would I hold on?’
‘You’d put your arms round me.’ He held out his hands and gave her a smile.
‘Yeah, nice try punk but it’s not going to happen.’ She turned to Ronnie. ‘Listen, if you’re driving off in my car, can’t we take yours?’
‘And how would I get home?’
‘On the bike?’ offered Leo.
‘Great,’ he sighed, throwing his arms up in the air. ‘I’ll ride across LA dressed like some ugly chick.’ He gestured to what he was wearing. ‘No problem at all.’
Leo looked at him beseechingly. ‘Please, partner.’
‘Oh give me a break, bud. Why does this shit always happen to me?’
He stood with his hands on his hips, as if thinking it over. After a few seconds he reluctantly held out his palms and Leo and Mia handed him their keys. He let out a loud groan and dragged himself over to Mia’s car, exaggerating the effort, as if his entire body were a dead weight. ‘Dude,’ he shouted back to Leo, ‘you’re going to owe me for this – big time.’
‘Mate, I really appreciate it.’
‘Just as long as you do!’
Ronnie got into Mia’s car and drove off, screeching the tyres along the tarmac as he disappeared up the ramp. Outside, Leo and Mia could hear the pack of paps zoom after him into the night. The noise echoed around them in the empty space. They were all alone.
There was an awkward silence and Leo told himself he had to snap out of his nerves and take control of the evening. He’d never been nervous on a date before and girls had always seemed to like him. Obviously, Mia was a huge star but surely she couldn’t be that different from the other girls he’d dated. All he had to do was be himself and everything would run smoothly, just as it always did.
He gave Mia a wide grin. ‘Well it’s nice to see you,’ he offered, ‘and you look really lovely.’
‘Oh cut the crap, Leo. And don’t look at me like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like that! That little wonky grin-smile thing you do. It might win over the other girls but it won’t work on me. Hone
stly.’
Despite her protests, Leo noticed that she was having to purse her lips together tightly to stop herself from smiling. He took this as a good sign but still found it hard to relax. He hoped she couldn’t tell how nervous he was – or that his confident swagger was just a front he put up to hide it. He tried his best not to smile.
‘Come on then – this way.’
He held out his hand and showed her the way to the car.
*
Stepping out of the car around the back of the restaurant, Mia chatted away on her mobile phone. She’d made the conversation last the entire journey, forcing Leo to listen to her talking to Serena about a single pair of shoes she wanted for a whole twenty minutes. Of course she wanted to make it clear that she was only here because she had no choice. But the truth was that the phone call was also a good way of covering up her nerves.
Still chatting on her phone, she watched as Leo stopped at the back door to the restaurant and raised his hands in supplication. She grudgingly said goodbye to Serena.
‘Oh come on, Mia,’ he begged, ‘can’t you at least try to enjoy yourself?’
She tutted as if the suggestion were ludicrous. ‘I was under the impression I had to have dinner with you, Leo. Nobody mentioned speaking to you in the car.’
‘All right, all right, point taken. But we’re here now so do me a favour and put the phone away.’
With an exaggerated sigh she switched off her phone and dropped it into her handbag. ‘Listen,’ she piped, ‘while we’re out here we might as well lay down some ground rules.’
‘OK. Go on.’
‘Firstly, I don’t want to have to watch what I say all night so if I let anything slip about any famous friends of mine, you have to promise me you won’t act on it.’