“I never even wanted to be an actress,” India sighed, closing her eyes again. “Never.”
“Really?” Charley settled back into position. “Christ. I have.”
India opened her eyes and looked at Charley, smiling slightly. “Have you?”
“God, yes! What I wouldn’t give to walk up a red carpet at my own movie premiere dressed in designer clothes on the arm of someone like Kenny Ross.” She sat forward, looking at India. “Kenny Ross, India. You have the chance to be in a movie with Kenny Ross! I can’t believe we’re even sitting here having this conversation! You should be out shopping for something stunning to knock him dead with.”
India sat up and pushed her hands through her long blonde hair, sighing heavily. “It’s a chance, Charley. That’s all it is. A chance to be in a movie. I’ve got to do a screen test and God knows what else before I even get that far.” She stood up, pacing the floor. “And I might not even get to meet Kenny Ross. If I completely mess up the screen test I could be back on a ‘plane home without having even set eyes on him.”
“You don’t know who you’ll be screen testing with yet?”
She shook her head. “No. Reece couldn’t tell me. He’s got to call the producers, run things past the director ... have I told you who the director is?”
Charley shook her head. “Who is it?”
“Michael Walsh.”
Charley put a hand over her mouth, stifling a little screech. “Michael Walsh? Oh my God, India, you have to do this! What the hell are you waiting for?”
“I’m waiting for sense to kick in. I can’t do it, Charley; it’s not in me to do something like this. And I can’t just give up my job. What happens if nothing comes of it? Which is highly likely.”
“You don’t have to give it up, do you? You’re owed some holiday, just take that. But for heavens sake, India, don’t pass up this chance. Come on. Live a little. Throw caution to the bloody wind and do something wild and crazy, something out of character.”
“Are you saying I’m boring?”
“No,” Charley laughed, getting up and walking over to the sideboard. “I’m not saying you’re boring. I’m saying you have to stop analysing everything and just grab this amazing chance with both hands. No matter how mad and ridiculous it sounds. Just do it.”
India looked at the TV again. They were talking to a famous actress about her new movie. She looked happy, confident, and beautiful.
“That could be you, India,” Charley said, rummaging about in one of the drawers. “In a few months time, that could be you.”
“Don’t talk crap, Charley. This is all just one big dream. It isn’t me. I don’t do this kind of thing, you know I don’t.”
Charley turned around and smiled, waving India’s passport in front of her. “You do now, mate. You bloody do now.”
***
Terry Steven opened the door of his Liverpool home, flung his kit bag on the hall floor and made his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk, flicking the kettle on as he passed.
Training was finished for the day and the afternoon stretched out ahead of him. He’d been asked by the other lads on the team if he’d wanted to join them for a round of golf but his heart wasn’t in it today. For some reason he felt a little on edge, as if something was going on he didn’t know about. He’d felt like that all day and he couldn’t put his finger on why. If anything was up with India then surely he’d know about it. He shook his head, almost as if to shake away the doubt. Of course he would, she told him everything. Well, at least she told him she did.
Terry was a professional soccer player. Not hugely famous but he played in the First Division and the money he was on was good. He lived in a modest – in footballing terms – modern apartment on the outskirts of Chester and he had a life most men his age would kill for.
Twenty-five years old and single, although not for the want of trying, he was a handsome young man, very handsome in the eyes of some girls, tall with dark brown hair and green eyes and a smile that made his whole face light up. But he was the kind of man who wondered whether the girls he met wanted him for him or the fact he was a footballer, and this meant that he found it hard to get close to anyone. He spent more nights in playing computer games and watching sport than he did trawling the clubs of Liverpool and Manchester like most of his team mates, but he still enjoyed the odd night out. Now and again he even allowed himself the pleasure of the company of one or two women, he just never seemed to be able to let himself take that next step into a relationship. Sometimes he wondered if that was because of his parents. They’d had their fair share of problems and growing up in the same house as them had never been easy, especially after India had been born. That’s when it had all started to go wrong, really.
The kettle flicked off and he poured the boiling water into his mug, realising he’d forgotten to put in the teabag. Rooting around in the back of the cupboard he managed to find a box containing three teabags. Looked like shopping was on the cards this afternoon then.
He carried his tea over to the kitchen table and sat down with the newspaper, aimlessly flicking through it but not taking notice of anything. He was too busy remembering the day he and India had been told they were actually only half brother and sister - the day before his thirteenth birthday.
Their mum had always been a bit of a hippie at heart, a child of the sixties. She’d followed The Beatles through every phase and had seemed to share that whole concept of free love that was floating around in the latter part of that decade. So much so that a one night fling at a music festival had resulted in the birth of his little sister, named India because of the fact The Beatles had visited that country in their hippie phase and their mother had always wanted to go there. His dad had never been anywhere farther than Blackpool on a caravan holiday in 1962 and had gone ballistic when the truth had come out. Their mother may have been scatty with a head full of idealistic dreams but she hadn’t been able to keep the fling a secret from her husband. He’d stood by her, brought India up as his own, but their relationship had never been the same again. There’d been rows, recriminations and countless affairs for both of them meaning that, for Terry and India, home life had never been settled. They’d both escaped outside on their bikes or to the field at the top of their street to kick a football about with their mates, more often than not ending up back at someone else’s house for tea where they’d experienced what it was like to have a mum and dad who weren’t fighting constantly or disappearing off out with their latest fling not knowing whether they’d be back home that night or not.
It had been tough but it had brought him and India closer. She’d been a little tomboy growing up, always in jeans and trainers and never bothered about falling over and scuffing her knees or elbows. Scars were never something she’d cared about, and she hadn’t changed that much now if he thought about it. Sure, she’d grown up into a great looking kid but she never felt comfortable in the skirts and heels she had to wear for work, she’d told him that herself.
He smiled at the thought of his baby sister, all blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wished she was here with him so he could keep a closer eye on her. She never mentioned anything about any men she dated and he only hoped that any who did cross her path looked after her, or they’d have him to answer to. To all intents and purposes she was all he had due to the total lack of concern coming from any parent, and he just wanted to make sure she was ok.
She’d handled the whole half brother/sister thing much better than he had but he often wondered if it played on her mind. She’d never asked their mum anything about her father and he often wondered if she ever thought about him. Especially after the recent divorce of their parents. He was surprised it hadn’t made India think more about her real dad.
He shook himself out of those thoughts and took a large gulp of now lukewarm tea, shutting the paper and pushing his chair back, standing up just as the ‘phone rang. He picked it up and leaned back against the kitchen count
er.
“Hello?”
“Terry? It’s India.”
“India! Hey, sweetheart, can you speak up a bit? The line’s really dodgy and I can’t hear you very well. You sound like you’re on the other side of the world or something.”
“Well, actually, it’s funny you should say that ...”
CHAPTER 4
India felt sick. Kenny Ross - she’d been told she’d be screen testing with Kenny Ross and now all the nerves she’d had in the first place had multiplied tenfold. What the hell was she doing here? Why she’d let Charley talk her into doing this she had no idea. She’d left the safety of a city she knew like the back of her hand and the security of a job that she rather liked to fly over to L.A. with Reece Brogan - movie star - and screen test for a Hollywood film! She was quite positive she was still in the middle of some crazy dream and she’d wake up any minute in front of TVAM and the familiar voice of Anne Diamond telling her everything was as it should be.
She sat down on the edge of her hotel bed and looked around the room. It was amazing! She was more used to the basic hotels they’d experienced on holiday in Benidorm and Ibiza, or the B & B’s they’d stayed in when she and Charley went out of town to see some band or other. She wasn’t used to king-size beds, big screen TV’s and bathrooms with telephones in them. What was that all about?
She got up and went over to the mini-bar, opening it up and looking inside. Gin. No, not her kind of drink. Vodka. That was more like it. She took out the miniature bottle and opened it, not even bothering to look for a glass. Sitting back down on the bed she finished the drink in two mouthfuls, letting the warm liquid slide down her throat, choking slightly as she swallowed too quickly.
Her mind wandered back to the screen test and the information she’d now been told. She’d automatically thought she’d be testing with Reece but that wasn’t the case. The part she was testing for would have the most scenes with Kenny Ross; therefore the chemistry had to be right. She felt quite ill at the thought. She’d had a huge crush on Kenny Ross for ages, a real daydream-every-second-about-him kind of crush. The kind of stupid crush that meant you went to see one of his films five times in one week just-because-he-looked-so-hot kind of crush, and now she was going to be standing right beside him, looking at him in the flesh, and she couldn’t quite get her head around it all. It was too much, it was like some crazy dream that was skipping from scene to scene far too fast so it all became disjointed and surreal. Yet here she was, sitting in a hotel room in the middle of Los Angeles waiting to do a screen test with a Hollywood actor she’d thought she would only ever dream about meeting. It was mad!
She fell back onto the bed and threw her arms up above her head, staring at the stark white ceiling above her. She was shattered and emotional. She’d only arrived in L.A. two days ago but this was the first time she’d had a chance to actually sit down and take it all in. Reece had been amazing; it was hard to believe he was such a big star because he was so down-to-earth. He’d made it really easy for her to become totally comfortable with him as he’d carefully explained everything that would be happening when they arrived in the U.S.A. Her feet hadn’t touched the ground since, but Reece had been with her every step of the way. He’d organised visa’s, every piece of paperwork she’d needed; he’d done all of that for her because she’d been in a complete daze since that night in Newcastle.
As soon as they’d arrived in L.A. he’d showed her around, made sure she knew what was what, but there was so much to take in. Her head had been spinning ever since she’d got off the ‘plane. She’d had meetings with one of the movie’s executive producers, a friendly and funny guy in his thirties called Vince, who’d made her feel completely at ease in a totally alien environment. She’d been introduced to agents and casting directors, she’d listened to advice and had been talked at until she could no longer think straight. She’d had photographs taken in a professional studio and they’d made her look incredible, but none of it felt like it was happening to her. It was almost as if she was watching it all happening to somebody else and she was just hovering around on the sidelines.
She’d also found out that Michael Walsh, the movie’s director and another actor she greatly admired, was going to be conducting the screen test tomorrow and that had done nothing to abate any of the nerves building up in her tightly knotted stomach. She’d never sleep tonight, that was a given.
Sitting up, she reached for the remote control, flicked on the TV and started skipping through the channels. She was missing ‘Coronation Street’. She should be at home, with a cup of tea, watching the soaps instead of whatever it was she was supposed to be doing here. She finally fell upon a comedy show she recognised and left it playing in the background as she got up and walked over to the window.
Terry had gone mad when she’d ‘phoned him from the airport and told him where she was. He couldn’t believe she’d just upped and left the U.K. with a strange - even if he was incredibly famous - man and his entourage and gone to The States on some whim. He’d found Reece’s whole spiel of an acting role in a movie wholly suspicious and the more she thought about it, that’s exactly how it must have sounded when she’d relayed what had happened back to him. This wasn’t a usual occurrence in anyone’s life let alone an ordinary twenty-two year old Geordie girl’s so he had every right to be suspicious. He was her big brother and he worried about her. What she was doing must be giving him sleepless nights.
She pushed a hand through her hair and sighed, leaving the view of palm tree- lined streets behind her as she walked into the bathroom, going over to the sink and splashing cold water on her face. She felt guilty now. She should have thought this through, she should have told Reece he was crazy and gone back to work at ‘Wheatman and Rogers’ and forgotten all about this whole stupid idea. What on earth was she doing?
She walked back into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the huge king-size bed, reaching for the ‘phone. Maybe hearing about what was going on back home in the real world might help calm her down a bit and she punched in Charley’s number. She couldn’t help smiling to herself. Charley was going to freak at the news she was going to be up close with Kenny Ross tomorrow, and she couldn’t wait to tell her.
***
Charley put down the ‘phone and sat back in the chair behind her reception desk at ‘Wheatman and Rogers’, sighing loudly as she looked at the normality going on all around her while India was in the middle of a dream.
She couldn’t believe her friend was going to be meeting the gorgeous Kenny Ross tomorrow. How many times had the pair of them watched his films and fantasised about what it would be like to meet him, to look up into those gorgeous, dark eyes of his? Now India was going to be doing just that.
She fiddled with the pen she was holding, unable to stop the wave of jealousy sweeping over her. It could have been her that Reece had approached if only she hadn’t got talking to David Henderson. He might be on track to become a partner in the firm, and he was really good-looking with a healthy bank account and a Mercedes, but if she hadn’t let that one little episode of flirting distract her then surely Reece would have come to her instead of India? She was better looking for sure. What was it in India he’d seen? She should have done what she’d originally planned and stayed close to Reece that night, made sure he’d known she existed instead of disappearing off like she had. She could kick herself! She was happy for India, Of course she was. She was her best friend and this was a fantastic opportunity for her. But Charley couldn’t help feeling just a tiny bit jealous.
She leant forward and rested her chin in the palm of her hand as she watched Mr Rogers perch himself on the edge of the desk occupied by the pretty young temp who was covering for India, giving her that smile of his that he reserved for all the younger female members of staff. He had no idea that it made their skin crawl and that they all giggled about his clumsy attempts at flirting when they gathered in the kitchen at lunchtimes.
Charley smiled to herself. She wa
s lucky, this was a good place to work with great people and she was grateful, but she couldn’t help feeling she wanted more now. India had been given a chance to get out of this rut, and surely she deserved it just as much as India did?
Scribbling absent-mindedly on a scrap of paper she sighed heavily again. Yes, she definitely deserved that chance too, that chance for something different, that chance to make her dreams come true. But then, India might never get that chance either. All of this could come to nothing and before anyone knew it she could be back here in the office, getting on with everyday life just like they’d always done.
She closed her eyes for a second and opened them quickly, almost as if hoping that, when she did, she’d be somewhere else, but it was all exactly the same. Somehow, though, Charley had a feeling it was never going to be exactly the same ever again. For either of them.
***
Reece Brogan should have been worried. He was putting his neck on the line by introducing this quiet, unknown young girl into a world she had no idea about when he didn’t even know if she could act, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. He’d watched her from across the room that evening in Newcastle, he’d seen the way she’d moved, the way she’d smiled at people, the way people had responded to her. It was so natural, so effortless with her and she really had no idea of that, which is what made her so real, and so different to anyone else he’d seen go up for this part.
He’d known from the second he’d seen her that she was the one this movie needed, she was the girl they’d been searching for and he’d had to do what he’d done, he’d had to bring her over to L.A. Maybe he was going to turn her life upside down and take the biggest chance he was ever going to take but he was sure she was going to be perfect. He certainly hoped so. Because this movie wasn’t the only reason he’d had to bring her here to L.A. It wasn’t the only reason at all.
No Matter What Page 3