Waiting for Callback

by Perdita Cargill

  STRAKER

  (Drops the spear. Quietly, to herself as much as to Jan.)

  I thought it was as bad as it could get. I thought nothing and nobody could make anything – this thing, this place, this world – worse, but you do.

  JAN

  (Doesn’t answer. Looks at her as if he will never understand her.)

  (Hearing roaring off camera, they both turn, fear uniting them immediately.)

  JAN

  Run!

  It was good starting with the fight scene because we were so pumped with adrenalin that it was kind of a relief to swear and shout. The pace was fast, no time to get uptight. The love scene was the one we were more worried about. It wasn’t a full-on love scene, nothing really happened, but we knew that it was a big point in the script because it was the first scene where the romantic connection between Straker and Jan was really brought out and you realized that it was going to be a love story (possibly a tragic love story given the whole world-ending, flesh-eating scenario).

  INTERIOR. SHELTER

  A rough wooden shack, earth floor. In the dim light from the moon outside, we can see two figures, Straker and Jan. Straker is washing the blood off Jan’s hands with a rag. Her voice is harsh, she is angry and afraid, but her actions are gentle.

  STRAKER

  I don’t know how you managed to fight him off, Jan; he was twice your size.

  JAN

  (Jan winces; he is quite badly cut.) Ouch. You’re hurting me more than he did.

  STRAKER

  Don’t be such a baby, stay still. I need to get this properly clean. If it gets infected, we’re in even more trouble. You’re such an idiot.

  JAN

  (He tries to laugh it off.) Come on, admit it, Straker, you’re impressed.

  STRAKER

  (serious) I’m not impressed, Jan. I think you’re a fool. I think you’re a fool who nearly died. And what if he’d attacked me too? Did you think about that?

  JAN

  (Jan looks away; his voice is almost inaudible.) Yes, I thought about that. I’d have kept you safe.

  STRAKER

  And if you couldn’t? What then, Jan? What are you going to do when he comes back with others and he looks for you and he looks for me? Do you think he’ll not try again? Being Warri isn’t going to be enough to keep you alive every time. Not any more. You think you’re so bloody brave and you’re just so bloody stupid.

  JAN

  (Jan looks up at Straker and this time his voice is firmer, more the voice of a man than a boy.) I promise you, Straker, I will keep you safe.

  STRAKER

  (Straker is crying now.) Nobody can keep anyone safe here, not any more. You shouldn’t make promises like that.

  JAN

  (Jan puts his hand up to her face and brushes away a tear. They are standing very close.) I won’t let you down, Straker.

  STRAKER

  (Straker takes his hand and says very gently) Better now?

  I was first up with Damian so we hadn’t seen how anyone else was tackling it. We started off OK, although I probably enjoyed calling him a fool more than I should have done; I had to keep reminding myself that this wasn’t the fight scene. Then we got to the line ‘I won’t let you down’ and Damian, well, I don’t know how else to put it, he lunged.

  It was a pretty effective guerrilla attack; I had zero chance of escape. His mum had obviously advised him to ‘really go for it’ before the audition so he had really gone for it. His technique was pretty pragmatic, well suited to a not particularly hot teenage boy. He’d obviously calculated that he had about three seconds before a girl would work out what was happening so, instead of going for a slow, romantic, lean-in and an exchange of romantic, sensuous looks of longing, he just sort of fell straight in the direction of my face, hoping my lips would be where he expected and he might just make contact. He did. Unfortunately, my teeth were also there.

  He ‘kept calm and carried on’ (probably another of his mother’s mantras) and started on stage two, the face sucking followed immediately by stage three, the tongue. A lot of tongue. Was that normal? How were you meant to breathe doing this? What if I suffocated? Would the production’s insurance cover lunge-related deaths?

  How did I get him to stop?

  ‘STOP!’ bellowed Havelski. ‘What the hell do you think you are doing?’

  Damian leapt away from me as if he had been electrocuted, I gasped for breath and we both stood there, looking like primary-school kids who had been hauled before the headmaster.

  ‘One, you . . . you . . .’ He looked over at Rhona who muttered, ‘Damian,’ nervously. ‘You, Damian, do NOT kiss . . .’ He looked over at Rhona who mouthed my name. ‘. . . Elektra unless and until the script tells you to kiss her. Where does the script say Jan kisses Straker? Nowhere. The reason it does not say Jan kisses Straker is because at this point in the script Jan does not kiss Straker. Are you the scriptwriter? Are you a better scriptwriter than the scriptwriter who is working on this project and has worked on a dozen high-grossing Hollywood movies? I can answer those questions for you – no and no.’

  Wow, Havelski was intimidating. My legs were actually shaking and I’m pretty sure that hadn’t been caused by anything Damian had done.

  ‘Two,’ he went on, ‘I did not tell you to kiss her. Three, if you had to kiss her, you should have kissed her properly. That wasn’t a kiss, that was an ASSAULT.’ (He’d obviously had the same insurance freak-out.)

  There was complete silence in the room for several very long minutes. Poor Damian, he might never lunge again, ever. Which was probably not a bad thing.

  ‘But I thought you were testing for chemistry,’ he said in a tiny little voice.

  ‘Well, Damian, you have a lot to learn about women if you thought that kiss demonstrated chemistry.’

  This time there was some laughter, nervous laughter. I wasn’t laughing.

  ‘I presume you have kissed a girl before?’

  Damian nodded sulkily.

  Please don’t let him ask me if I’d kissed a guy before. Please.

  He didn’t. ‘Sorry about all this, Elektra.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ I mumbled, resisting a very strong inclination to add ‘Sir’ to the end of my sentence.

  ‘In a way, you’re right, Damian. Part of the reason all six of you are here together in this meeting is so that we can watch how you relate to each other and what sort of “chemistry” there is between you. You’ve all had a script synopsis; you know that Jan and Straker fall in love. They do kiss and down the line, whatever actors are cast, we will talk about that and we’ll talk to your parents about it. But that is not for today. What is important in Jan and Straker’s story is love. They fall in love when everything around them is in pieces and that love is the only thing that makes the audience believe that things might get a little better.’

  Heavy. Made heavier by the slight accent. Russian? Hungarian? Meerkat? I needed to google Havelski some more.

  He went on. ‘The actors that play Jan and Straker need to make the audience believe that they have fallen in love, otherwise this narrative doesn’t go anywhere. Don’t you think we were all watching for chemistry when you were reading the fight scene? Don’t you think that people who are in love fight with each other differently, talk to each other differently, look at each other differently? It’s not about body parts.’

  Nobody was looking at anybody else. We all talked about body parts endlessly, but when sixty-year-old men started talking about them it was undeniably awkward.

  ‘Well, it’s not just about body parts. It is about an emotional connection, an intellectual connection, a shared sense of humour; it is not just about a physical connection. Each of you is a strong actor. I don’t doubt that and you mustn’t doubt it, whatever happens or doesn’t happen next. If you weren’t strong actors, if you hadn’t already impressed, you wouldn’t be in this room right now. I certainly wouldn’t have flown five and a half thousand miles to meet with you. But any guy
can grab a girl and stick his tongue down her throat. And by the way, Damian, it is poor etiquette for an actor to use tongues, at least without permission—’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  Havelski gave him a ‘don’t interrupt me’ look and went on. ‘OK, let’s do this scene once more and this time I want you all to think about chemistry; I want you to think about it from the beginning of the scene until the end and if anyone locks lips I will personally come and separate them and it won’t be pretty.’

  We didn’t doubt that.

  ‘Elektra, take a break. Lana, come back out here and read with Damian.’

  OK, so the bad news was total humiliation (again), the good news was that I was technically no longer a snogging virgin. That was possibly the least romantic first kiss in history. It might also have been the most public. Not totally sure about that because even I had seen some pretty public making out (not very many guys under eighteen who have the slightest chance to get with a girl will hold off until they’re someplace private – and now I come to think of it most of the girls I know aren’t that bothered either). But not very many people have their first kiss in front of a Hollywood director and his entourage – most people are spared that.

  My break was all of ten minutes and I was up again, this time to read the scene with Carlo. Carlo obviously thought that because it was a love scene it was important that we read it practically standing on each other’s toes we were so close. That was fine by me and to be fair that was in the script. Damian had tasted of cheese Quavers; Carlo’s breath smelled of mint and aniseed. By the ‘I promise you, Straker, I will keep you safe’ line, we were maintaining serious eye contact and when he put up his hand to brush away my tears (yep, I can cry to order, real tears and everything; it’s my drama USP) I was totally into it. I think it went quite well because the room was very quiet when we finished. It took a couple of minutes before I realized that I was still holding Carlo’s hand. Embarrassing. This was a guy whose ego was big enough already.

  Watching the others play out the scene made me feel insecure again. They were all really good. I was an amateur.

  I was sad when we got to the end of the session: it felt like the end of something. Well, it probably was; it probably was the end of the Straker project for me. We all hugged. Even though we were in competition, we’d been in it together. Don’t want to sound trite here, but we’d bonded. I was just going over to my mum’s car when someone called out my name. It was Carlo. He motioned me over and of course I went (like Digby to a treat). He leaned in close to me. ‘You know that scene?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Unfinished business. See you at rehearsals, E,’ and, without waiting for an answer, he turned away and walked off. So he obviously didn’t feel that it was the end of the road.

  Carlo was arrogant, no question, but he was hot with it.

  I quite liked him.

  I was still laughing when I got into the car.

  ‘How did it go?’ asked my mum (inevitably). ‘You look happy.’

  I’d survived and I was quite proud of that. And it had been fun – well, it had been fun in parts.

  ‘It was . . . interesting,’ I said, which was the truth.

  The Damian lunge had been pretty disgusting, but if I added in the whole Carlo flirtation thing it hadn’t been a bad day. The great gods of drama (Dionysus and Bacchus, the bad boys of booze and drama, and Saint Genesius who converted to Christianity in the middle of a performance which must have been a moment) had handed me a script with some sort of a ‘love’ scene and I’d got it over and done with.

  Better late than never.

  Sure, it hadn’t been with Archie, but then I hadn’t wanted my first kiss to be with him. I really liked Archie.

  There was way too much at stake to have risked a first kiss with Archie.

  From: Stella at the Haden Agency

  Date: 24 June 15:44

  To: Julia James

  Cc: Charlotte at the Haden Agency

  Subject: Straker (working title) project – dates

  Dear Julia,

  Further to our phone call today, can I just say that I’ve had another email from Janey at Suited Casting. She just wanted to emphasize that although they really do need to get an idea of everyone’s potential availability for this project as soon as possible no decisions have yet been taken about casting.

  Elektra’s done extremely well to get this far, but Janey has made it very clear that they thought all three girls performed very well at the audition and it’s a strong field (the other two girls do have more experience). I don’t want you all to read more into this request for information than you should.

  Don’t hesitate to call me if you want to talk about this.

  Kind regards,

  Stella

  ‘Acting has done a strange thing to me though. I often sit there, thinking, “I love this, but I wouldn’t put my daughter on the stage.”’

  Eddie Redmayne

  ‘I just don’t know, Elektra; they’re asking if you would be free for two whole months. Two whole months and you’ve got GCSEs round the corner.’

  ‘Hypothetically. They’re asking hypothetically, Mum. It doesn’t matter; it’s not worth getting all het up about. It’s not going to happen.’

  ‘They might be asking hypothetically, but I’m expected to give them a real answer. Two whole months,’ she wailed.

  ‘Two whole months in the summer holidays. Two whole months that aren’t going to happen.’

  ‘But exams. The work you do over the next few years is going to determine your future,’ she said (as she so often did).

  ‘Oh, come on, Mum, do you seriously think I’m going to be revising for my exams this summer? Do you know what people do in the summer holidays at my age? They drink beer in parks or, if they can afford it, they go to Reading or Bestival. Or if they’re loaded maybe they go and drink beer somewhere foreign and sunny . . .’

  She shuddered ostentatiously. ‘You’re fifteen, Elektra. I don’t believe that fifteen-year-olds do that sort of thing. What makes you think we’d let you go to any festivals? I’ve heard the stories. Do you know how many drugs there are at events like that?’

  Well, yes, I had a vague idea, I’d listened to the stories of the girls in sixth form, but now wasn’t the time for that. ‘I’m not saying I would go to festivals.’ And I wasn’t, not yet; I’d fight that battle after GCSEs like everyone else (or maybe I’d find something better to do than spend three nights in a tent in the rain in a field with scary loos).

  I was just winding her up. It was so easy.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum, I’m just saying that it’s not like I’d be starting on my exam reading list. Actually, now I come to think of it, I’d probably get more time to do reading on set than I would anywhere else over a summer. And if you’re worried about teenage summer behaviour then surely I’d be safer on some set with a chaperone or with you.’

  She sighed dramatically. ‘I don’t know. I just think the whole thing could derail you.’

  That’s the problem with parents: they not only think that they have you on rails, they think that’s a good thing.

  ‘I’m not even going to get the offer. They’ll cast Amy; they’re bound to.’ I liked Lana (a lot) more and I thought she’d read the fight scene the best of everyone, but my opinion didn’t matter and Amy was way the most experienced of the three of us (and the prettiest). ‘Stella said they were only checking everyone’s availability upfront in case there were any problems. And she’s not just managing our expectations.’

  ‘I know, I know, but what if they don’t? What if they ask you, Elektra? What then?’

  What then? I hadn’t really got that far . . . ‘Dad’s OK with it,’ I said.

  ‘Dad’s not OK with it. Dad just hasn’t had time to think about it and anyway he’d agree to anything right now.’

  That was true. Dad was happy (even though the client wanted to incorporate a curved wall – experimental since the Stone A
ge), he was busy and he was completely distracted. Which was quite frankly probably the best mixture in a parent.

  ‘Eulalie thinks I should definitely do it if I get the chance.’

  ‘Eulalie would think you should strip naked and swing from the chandelier if you got the chance.’

  I was having difficulty visualizing that, but Mum was probably right. I should probably just drop the Eulalie line of persuasion.

  ‘Molly said that when Miranda let her son take a part in some film he went completely off the rails and ended up in rehab.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Mum, Miranda’s son was destined for rehab: it’s their family tradition. Why do you care so much what your friends think?’

  ‘And you don’t care what your friends think?’

  That was a low blow. She knew that I hadn’t spoken to Moss about the Straker callback because I still wasn’t speaking to Moss about anything. Mum knew that I really, really cared what Moss would think. I thought I knew what she would say, but maybe not; maybe I’d got that wrong too. Mum was pacing round the kitchen now, completely confusing poor Digby, who kept trying to get out of the way and ending up under her feet.

  ‘You’re making Digby dizzy – you’re making me dizzy – please sit down.’

  She ignored me. Even more worryingly, she ignored Digby. She never ignored Digby.

  ‘Mum, please, look at me!’ I grabbed her hand as she went past.

  ‘I spend hours looking at you.’

  ‘Sort of, like you notice every time I have shadows under my eyes or my forehead is threatening to break out or I’m not wearing the right sort of sports kit, but you don’t seem to have noticed much else. And I don’t just mean I’ve, like, got taller.’

  ‘Don’t say “like”,’ she said (as she so often did). I ignored her (as I so often did) and she went on. ‘Of course I notice that you’re growing up.’ She said ‘growing up’ in that heavy way that made me squirm and looked a bit upset like I was suggesting that she was doing something wrong. I wasn’t. It wasn’t her fault that she wanted me to stay her little girl.