Behind the Scenes

by Anita Notaro

  ‘Then get yourself a good agent.’

  ‘That’s what Orla said earlier. I really will think about it.’

  ‘It’ll save you money in the long run. Trust me, I’m an actor.’ He smiled as he handed her a glass of lager and they moved over to the by now fairly large group and sat down. Annie wanted to sit beside Marc but he was wedged in and she didn’t have the nerve.

  There was a great deal of banter going on. Annie smiled and said very little, simply happy to be part of it all.

  As some of the crew joined them the circle widened and they broke into smaller groups. Everyone was relaxed and casual and Annie felt she had tried too hard. The outfit was just a bit too dressy for the local pub and she’d spent money she couldn’t really afford on it, which was niggling away at her, especially as it looked as if she was going to be out of work for a while again.

  ‘Annie, I’m off. I’ll be in touch soon.’ Max Donaldson put his hand on her shoulder and she jumped up, spilling her drink and liking the dress even less.

  ‘I saw all your scenes today. It was your heaviest day so far, wasn’t it?’ She nodded and gulped the remainder of her drink, hoping he’d keep talking.

  ‘Well, all I can say is, congratulations. You handled it very well. Your last scene was excellent and really worth doing those extra takes. You got it just right.’

  Annie was beaming. She wanted to beg him to keep her on but would have settled for replying with even a hint of intelligence. As usual, nothing came.

  ‘We have a major brainstorming session planned for the week after next with the writers, so I should know more after that.’

  Annie knew they were fairly advanced with scripts and realized that even if they wanted her back it could be months away, which was very depressing. Now she did the best acting job Max had seen yet, smiled and said casually, ‘I’ve really enjoyed it and it’s a part I’d love to get my teeth into, but I know you’ve a lot of other options to consider. And thanks for taking a chance on me in the first place. You gave me my first break on TV and I’m very grateful.’

  ‘Pleasure. Talk to you soon. And maybe you’d let the office know if you are taking on any long-term projects, just so we have your availability on file.’

  ‘Sure.’ Annie tried another casual smile, not wanting to tell him that her longest project to date had been joining the dole queue. ‘I’ll keep in touch with Isobel or Mike.’

  ‘Great.’ He looked around. ‘Bye everyone, I’m off before you make me buy another round.’ There was a general shouting of ‘Skinflint’ and ‘Scrooge’ as Annie consoled herself with the fact that at least Max was interested in knowing her availability.

  ‘Well, what did the great white chief have to say?’ Marc was beside her and she was happy again.

  ‘Nothing much I’m afraid, but he did say he liked my stuff today, especially the last scene.’

  ‘You were great, I was watching.’ He made her feel she was the only woman in the room and she wanted to kiss him really badly.

  ‘You would say that – anything for a drink.’ She tried to lighten the mood before she grabbed him and stuck her tongue down his throat.

  ‘You’re right. I’ll have a pint, thanks.’

  ‘Bastard.’

  ‘The women love it.’

  ‘I’d say they do.’

  ‘They just can’t resist my charm.’

  ‘Well, I think I can just about manage.’ She grinned as she headed for the bar, glad he couldn’t read her mind.

  It was a happy two hours for Annie, especially as Marc didn’t leave her side. At about eight-thirty he suggested they go for a Chinese.

  They left to a chorus of slagging and taunts about Marc being ‘a fast worker’ and Annie was delighted: at least now people saw them as an item. Tessa Rowan urged Annie playfully to ‘ask him all about his other women’, but the catty remark went right over her head.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ALTHOUGH SHE WAS starving, Annie hardly ate a thing. She was too nervous. Marc seemed to have no such feelings because he tucked in with gusto, demolishing half of her food as well. He kept her entertained with tales of his family in Australia and horror stories about various acting jobs. He seemed to want to keep it light and said little about himself. Annie wanted to know everything, but for now she had to content herself with the bits he was prepared to share. She wondered briefly if he was being deliberately cagey with her but dismissed the thought as the mad notion of someone who hadn’t had a proper date in a very long time.

  They laughed a lot and he teased her about being so eager and Annie wanted to tell him why this job was so important, but was afraid the big C would scare him off. She knew there would be time for all that later on, or at least she hoped so. He was addictive and she was fast becoming hooked.

  As they headed for his car she realized she was a bit tipsy, having polished off three glasses of wine, as well as the beers she’d had earlier. Marc had stopped after two because he was driving, and slagged her because she kept giggling. As they neared the car park he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, kissing her hard on the lips. If she was light-headed before, she was in orbit now and she kissed him back with real longing.

  He was the first to break free and he grinned down at her. ‘You’re quite a kisser, Annie Weller.’

  ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet.’ She couldn’t believe she’d just said that. It was so naff.

  When they reached her house he leaned over and kissed her again, and this time their passions rose in tandem. She wriggled her body as close to him as possible and wondered if he could feel her nipples hardening through the thin bra top of her dress.

  He obviously could. He slid his hands up along her sides and then lightly over her breasts and she tried not to gasp as a warm feeling spread all over her body and lingered between her legs.

  He moaned and tried to pull her even closer and she dragged him over to her seat and straddled him, not caring that they were in a car in a busy housing estate, parked under a street lamp. Annie couldn’t believe she was being so eager – it was an odd feeling to want him so desperately and it made her feel vulnerable, although the alcohol was giving her courage.

  ‘God, you feel gorgeous and you’re driving me mad,’ Marc said softly as he licked her neck and shoulders expertly, pushing down the straps of her dress with his nose and kissing each bit of exposed skin. His hands were roaming over her bottom and he could feel the silky thong she wore. Annie had laughed hysterically when she’d put it on this morning and looked at herself in the mirror. It was a million miles away from the sensible faded white cotton knickers she normally wore and she would never have dreamed of buying it except that the shop assistant had insisted she get one, telling her firmly that ordinary pants would ruin the line of the dress. Annie thought she looked absolutely ridiculous with a piece of string between her buttocks. All day it had been uncomfortable but suddenly it was fantastic and made her feel like a real woman for the first time in years, instead of boring old reliable Annie.

  Marc pressed her close to his dick and she knelt up so that he could feel her properly all over. He was feather-kissing her nipples through the thin material of her dress and she was dying for him to simply unzip her but she knew they couldn’t possibly go that far in a car with the local kids playing nearby. The fogged-up windows helped their seclusion, but could just as easily give the game away.

  He slipped his hand underneath the crotch of her thong and his breathing was heavy. She nearly died with the sheer, intense pleasure of it all, as feelings she’d never experienced before came bubbling to the surface. Yet something was holding her back, telling her she didn’t want to have sex with him for the first time in a car – not with a perfectly good bed a few yards away.

  Anyway, she thought as she struggled to clear her brain, she wanted to be sober when it happened and she didn’t want him to think she was easy. Bit late for that now, she chided herself, sitting back down and leaning away from him slightly, again
st all her instincts.

  He sensed something had changed. ‘You’re driving me mad, do you know that? I want you so badly.’

  She laughed. She didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Not tonight, I’d be asleep on you in five minutes.’ When had she started lying so easily? And what was she doing, turning away the best thing that had happened to her in ages?

  ‘I promise I’ve got something to keep you awake.’

  She grinned, embarrassed and felt nervous all of a sudden, in case he went off her.

  ‘I think we should wait a bit, you know.’ It sounded lame even to her.

  He took her hand and placed it over his crotch. She could feel him, rock hard. It caused the delicious, warm feeling to spread again. ‘See what you’ve done to me. How can you be so cruel?’ She knew he was only half teasing and she was mortified because it was all happening too quickly and she felt like a schoolgirl on her first date, instead of the sophisticated woman she suspected he thought she was.

  ‘I’ve no heart. Anyway, I think you’ll survive.’ Please don’t let him go off me for this. ‘I’d better go in and make some black coffee.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘You don’t need black coffee. I’m the drunk here.’ She laughed and he kissed her again and she went weak all over. The kiss lingered and this time he contented himself with running his fingers lightly up and down her arm and driving her mad with anticipation.

  ‘You won’t get away so easily next time.’ He nibbled at her ear and ran his fingers along the nape of her neck and down to her breasts, but stopped short of touching them. It was a practised gesture, but to Annie it was heaven and hell all rolled into one excruciating pleasure.

  ‘Next time I’ll make you pay.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Oh, I promise.’

  ‘Good. I can’t wait.’

  He slapped her bottom playfully and she was relieved and happy as he disentangled himself and moved back to his own seat, but she let him go reluctantly.

  ‘Thanks for a lovely night.’ It was all she could think of.

  ‘Let’s do it again soon.’

  ‘I’d like that.’ She got out while she was still ahead.

  ‘I’ll give you a buzz over the weekend.’

  ‘You don’t have my number.’

  ‘That’s what programme call sheets are for.’

  She grinned. ‘Night-night.’

  ‘Sleep well, you vixen. I’m off home to take a cold shower.’

  ‘Enjoy yourself.’ She waved as he turned the car and sped off into the black night. Annie hoped she hadn’t made a big mistake, just because of some stupid, old-fashioned idea that he might go off her once he’d got what he wanted.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  THE DAYS WERE crawling by for Libby and things seemed to be getting worse instead of better. The series was up and running but as each day passed she became more convinced than ever that the concept was wrong for her. She was too exhausted to worry much about it, though. Getting through the day was like tackling an enormous obstacle course and she spent her evenings eating and drinking and avoiding her mother as much as she could, insisting she was fine and using her workload as an excuse to avoid visits. She knew Christina had taken to popping round most days to chat to Mrs O’Connell. Between them they left enough food to feed a small army and Libby was eating most of it. It was very tough, and tough was taking its toll. And there was worse to come.

  John Simpson had left several messages and when she could no longer put if off she shut herself into the small sitting room, pulled the blinds, poured herself a stiff drink and called him at home.

  ‘John, I’m sorry not to have rung before now. I’m in the middle of the new series and it’s about all I can manage at the moment.’

  ‘That’s OK, Libby. How are you?’

  ‘Exhausted, emotional, stressed, run down and getting as fat as a pig.’ She laughed to try and lighten her own mood.

  ‘Well, the last one can’t be bad. You were as thin as a whippet when I saw you recently.’

  ‘In that case, you’ll have difficulty recognizing me next time.’ She was only half joking. ‘My mother and Mrs O’Connell are determined to fatten me up and I seem to crave comfort in the form of food at the moment. Stuffing my face is about all I can manage these evenings. To think I used to be able to go to the gym after a day’s work, and then party for Ireland.’ Her laugh was not a happy sound.

  ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself, Libby. You’re doing fine. Being back at work so soon is an enormous achievement. You’re entitled to your rewards.’

  ‘Yes, but not in the quantities I’ve been having them. And believe me, I wouldn’t be back working except I wasn’t really given much choice. The series was already too far advanced and it was either I do it or they get someone else.’ She heard his intake of breath. ‘No, I’m being unfair. They did offer to facilitate me but I needed to stop moping around, although now I’m not sure I made the right decision. Anyway, enough about me, it’s more of the same boring old stuff. How are things with you?’

  They made small talk for a couple of minutes and then he got to the point.

  ‘Libby, I need to talk to you about the business.’

  Her heart sank. She wasn’t sure she could cope with anything else right now.

  ‘Can’t it wait?’

  He hated doing this but she had to know.

  ‘Not really. We need to sit down and go through a few things. There are some decisions to be made.’

  ‘Can’t Alex O’Meara take care of it, John? I don’t think I can take on any more until we finish the series.’

  ‘I think we need to talk first, then the three of us need to sit down together. Is there anyone else who could handle this for you?’

  ‘No, unless David’s father. He offered to come over and go through everything, but I don’t think he’s that well, and Monica has taken this whole thing so badly, I don’t really want to call on him just now.’

  ‘No, I don’t think we should either.’ He was at a loss, not wanting to push her yet needing to make some decisions.

  ‘I’ll tell you what, after this week I have a break in recording for two weeks. I do have a lot of setting up to do for the rest of the series, but at least it’s only office based and I don’t have to get dressed up and talk to morons all day. How about if we have dinner next week?’

  It was the best he could hope for. ‘Fine, Libby. I’ll fill you in as best I can then. Meanwhile, I’ll keep working with Alex and we’ll have as much as possible sorted out.’

  ‘John, I’m not going to be much help to you, by the way. I know absolutely nothing about the business. I’d say the postboy knows more. David didn’t discuss it at home, you know what he was like.’

  ‘I do indeed.’ Not for the first time recently, he wished he’d pushed a bit harder with his oldest friend. ‘I think maybe we both let him away with too much, Libby.’ He hadn’t meant to voice his private thoughts and was almost relieved when she didn’t seem to pick up on it.

  ‘He was way too charming for his own good, you know that more than most, John. It meant he got away with murder. With me, he hardly ever discussed things, especially in the early days. And later, on the odd occasion he tried to my eyes glazed over within seconds.’ She smiled a secret smile, remembering all the tactics she’d used to shut him up when he was having a rant about a client, or threatening to sack an employee. She sighed. ‘He liked to do things his way most of the time and I just let him get on with it. The high-flying world of finance has always been as dull as ditchwater for me. I think I was only ever involved for a variety of complicated tax reasons, which I never understood anyway. Bit of a dunce about money I’m afraid, except when it comes to spending it.’ She paused for a second, sensing he wasn’t laughing with her.

  ‘It’s all right, though, isn’t it? I mean, it’s all turning over and everything?’

  ‘Well, there ar
e some complications.’

  Libby didn’t like the sound of his voice. He sounded much too like the solicitor he was, instead of good old reliable John. ‘What sort of complications?’

  He wasn’t about to go into it now, late at night when she was tired and probably low. ‘Don’t worry about it for the moment. I’ll explain it all next week. What day suits you?’

  ‘Tuesday.’ She had a sudden feeling she should see him as soon as possible.

  ‘Tuesday’s fine. Where would you like to go? The Grasshopper?’ He could have bitten his tongue off as he realized that that was where David had been on the night of his heart attack. ‘Oh, God, Libby, I’m so sorry. It completely slipped my mind. I’m an insensitive oaf. Please, forgive me.’

  Her heart was pounding. She tried not to cry but the alcohol wasn’t helping.

  ‘It’s OK, John, I know.’

  ‘Jesus, Libby, I wouldn’t upset you for the world, you know that. It was out before I could stop it. I’m sorry, I’ve been under a bit of pressure myself lately, not that that’s any excuse . . .’

  ‘John, shush, it’s fine. How about you come here? I’ll even cook myself.’ She was trying to comfort him: cooking was the last thing she wanted to do. She just didn’t want him worrying, he sounded weary enough already.

  ‘Great. Thanks. I eat out too much as it is. And Anna’s never around to cook these days. The price of our glorified lifestyle, I suppose.’ He sounded lonely.

  ‘Pasta OK?’ At least she could rustle up that with her eyes closed.

  ‘Perfect. I’ll be by on my way home about seven, if that suits?’

  ‘Great, see you then.’

  ‘Mind yourself, Libby. And I’m sorry again.’

  ‘I’ve forgotten already. Bye.’

  But she hadn’t and that, coupled with whatever he had to discuss, sent her scurrying in the direction of the wine bottle, the only thing that numbed the feelings of pressure these nights.