by Mel Sparke
“I’m in a scene with Ben Fitzpatrick this afternoon!” Cat informed her, her smile a mile wide.
“Sorry, what did you say your name was? I can’t find it on the info sheet Daniel’s given me for this afternoon’s shoot…” said Dawn, scouring the A4 paper on her clipboard.
“Cat - Catrina Osgood.” Cat’s heart lurched. Surely the schedule hadn’t been changed again? She couldn’t bear another day getting nowhere near Ben. But, the truth was, she hadn’t seen him around yet - and Cat had been keeping her radar up for any sightings of him for the last three hours.
“And you’re playing opposite Ben?” frowned Dawn, her eyes still scanning her info sheet.
“Well,” giggled Cat, “I’m not exactly starring opposite him. I’m one of the extras!”
“Ah!” exclaimed Dawn, flicking to the next page. “You’re one of the three teenage mums who are walking past, pushing prams in the background!”
“Um, yes,” nodded Cat, not enjoying hearing how dull that sounded out loud.
When the three girls had arrived that morning and reported in to Daniel, the production assistant had handed them a print-out telling them what their roles were going to be, and what time they should check in with make-up. At that point, Cat hadn’t really cared whether she’d be hopping in a frog suit next to him, just as long as she’d be sharing the same space as Ben Fitzpatrick at last. But now, she wished with all her heart that she’d been given more of a chance to shine and be noticed, instead of simply hovering in the background in a scruffy pair of jeans.
Still, for all the dowdy clothes, he wouldn’t be able to resist her looks.
Thank goodness for make-up! Cat sighed to herself, glad now that she’d got up so early this morning to get her face and hair just right.
“OK, Cat, so let’s get to it!” smiled Dawn, putting down her clipboard.
“Actually, I think I’ll only need a little powder,” Cat smiled up at her. “You see, I did my own makeup. I’m on a Beauty Therapy course.”
Dawn paused and took in Cat’s handiwork. Her skin was tanned golden brown, but that hadn’t stopped her from adding more colour by way of a browny-pink dusting of blusher on each cheek, with a rich browny-pink lipstick to match. She’d obviously spent hours doing her eye make-up, blending a mixture of creams and brown shadows, and adding a dash of black eyeliner - as well as lashings of mascara - for a truly film star look. The hair was film star too, piled up on her head with artfully teased blonde tendrils hanging down.
“A Beauty Therapy course? Well, good for you! You look great,” nodded Dawn. “The thing is, for this part, Jon, the director - have you met him?”
“No, not yet,” Cat shook her head. “But I know who he is, of course.”
“The thing is,” Dawn continued, “Jon’s asked for the extras in this scene to have a natural look.”
“A natural look?” said Cat, raising her eyebrows. “Well, that’s what I went for - you know, brawny and pinky shades.”
“Erm, it’s more natural than that,” said Dawn, a hint of apology in her voice as she reached for a large roll of cotton wool and a bottle of cleanser. “It’s more a case of… well, I’m sorry, Cat, you’ve done a brilliant job, but I’m going to have to take this off and start again.”
“Oh!” squeaked Cat, feeling slightly hurt. “Urn, oh, well… never mind. It’ll be interesting for me to see what you do - you know, from a learning point of view!”
“Good!” Dawn smiled down at Cat. “And I’m afraid I’ll have to take your hair down too. It needs to be pulled back straight into a ponytail. And since it’s so obviously bleached, I might brush through a little brown eyeshadow along the parting, so it looks like your roots are growing back in.”
As the wet, sticky ball of cotton wool touched her skin and began smearing away all her careful work, Cat froze. She suddenly felt very vulnerable, having her make-up wiped off in the open-air, in full view of everyone. No one - not even her mother - had seen Cat without at least a dash of mascara on for years. And she always made sure she spent plenty of time and money hiding her roots - and her real mousey-brown hair colour - from the world.
Now, a whole TV crew was going to see her in the raw. And not just the TV crew: the hangers-on loitering by the nearby barricades - which included, yet again, Cat noticed, Maya’s annoying little sister and her mates - would see her like this too.
Her stomach did a flip as the realisation dawned that it wouldn’t stop there: Ben Fitzpatrick might arrive any minute and walk past - seeing her with a bare and make-up free face.
Cat felt sick…
“Have you met Ben yet?” asked Dawn cheerfully, like a dentist trying to put her patient at ease. Which is what it felt like to Cat at that precise moment.
“No,” said Cat, in a tiny, frightened voice. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt - and quickly dismissed - a small pang of conscience about lying so blatantly to her girlfriends the day before in the café.
“He’s a gorgeous guy,” gushed Dawn, suddenly coming over more like a love-struck girl than the thirtysomething woman she must be. “Great skin. Ever so friendly - that’s when you get the chance to talk to him!”
Cat blinked up at the make-up artist, her curiosity beginning to overcome her terror at going ‘nude’. And she was glad to see that Dawn had already picked up a tube of foundation. This wasn’t so bad - her face would be decent again in no time.
“What do you mean? When you get a chance to talk to him?” she quizzed Dawn.
“Well,” said Dawn, speedily smoothing on the creamy foundation with a sponge. “He never has much time to hang out with the crew - he’s always whisked away by his publicist the minute his filming is finished. Can you close your eyes for me, Cat?”
Cat did as she was told and felt a soft brush dart here and there around her eyes.
“Yep,” Dawn continued. “Apart from Jon the director, the only one who ever gets near Ben for any length of time is Daniel. Actually, I think Daniel probably sees him more than Jon!”
“Daniel?” Cat repeated, picturing the stressed but sweet-looking production assistant. She’d seen him only a few minutes before, a frown crinkling his forehead as he sat cross-legged on the grass, hammering at the keys of his laptop computer, bashing out reams and reams of daily updates to print out for everyone later.
“Yeah. Daniel’s a real whizz-kid, holding this whole thing together, and he’s only in his early twenties. Amazing, isn’t it?” Dawn laughed.
Cat nodded, although she didn’t know Daniel - or any other production assistants to compare him with - so it was hard to know whether the job he was doing was amazing or not.
“Now can you open your eyes nice and wide?” Dawn instructed her. “I’m just going to put a little mascara on for you…”
Cat was surprised at how amazingly quick this all was. But then Dawn was a very experienced make-up artist. Apart from that, Dawn was only doing the make-up for an extra, Cat realised, and that meant she didn’t have to spend as much time on it, since it wouldn’t be caught close-up by the cameras.
“Actually, if you’re really interested,” Dawn said conspiratorially as she flicked away with the mascara wand, “the people worth getting to know on any set are the production assistants. They’re the ones who know everything and everyone.”
I see… mused Cat, staring off at the bustle of cameramen setting up outside the rundown shopping arcade, her eyes trying to search out Daniel, while Dawn gave her face a final dusting of powder. So I was right - not only might I be able to wangle an invitation to the party out of Daniel, he’s probably the best best person to get me an introduction to Ben Fitzpatrick too!
“There! One natural look - just like that!” announced Dawn, standing back and handing Cat a mirror.
“Wow! You work so fast! I’d love to—” Cat’s enthusiasm melted away as soon as she saw her reflection. The foundation made her look pale and washed out; the mascara was so subtle it might as well have been transparent; and
the grey-blue ‘bags’ Dawn had brushed under her eyes made her look like she’d been up all night for a week. It was the perfect image of a stressed-out young mum.
But it certainly wasn’t the perfect look for flirting with Ben Fitzpatrick.
It seemed like they’d been hanging round forever, waiting for Jon the director to give them a signal to start.
“Pretty exciting this acting lark, isn’t it? said Louise, sarcastically as she leant on the handle of the pushchair she was in charge of.
“My legs are aching. Can’t we sit down for a while? I mean, what could be holding things up for so long?” moaned Cat.
“What about the fact that the star hasn’t turned up yet?” Vikki suggested.
“Hey - speak of the devil!” exclaimed Louise. “Look - it’s him! It’s Ben!”
Sure enough, there was Ben Fitzpatrick himself, walking on to the set with Jon, nodding as he listened to whatever instructions the director was giving him.
Suddenly, Cat found that she was actually glad that her slimline part in the shopping arcade called for her to be pushing a pram. It gave her something to hold on to - the sight of Ben Fitzpatrick in the flesh had made her feel quite faint…
“He’s a bit on the small side, isn’t he?” Louise hissed.
“He’s perfect!” Cat hissed back, her eyes scrutinising every centimetre of his not-very-tall, but undeniably well-proportioned body.
His hair was longer than she’d thought it would be. He’d obviously been growing out the crop he’d had in his last couple of TV shows. But he still had that rough-edged charm, that hint of dark stubble and those amazingly sexy eyebrows.
“They say the camera makes you look pounds heavier,” commented Louise. “I’d no idea it made you look six inches taller, too!”
“I’d better not stand too close to him - he’ll look like an actual-size Action Man next to me!” Vikki chuckled.
“Vik! Don’t joke like that!” Cat protested. “He’s a star!”
“He’s not a ‘star’!” laughed Vikki. “He’s a working actor, like we all want to be. And he’s human, don’t forget it!”
But Cat didn’t hear. All she could think about was that a star - the man of her dreams - was just a few feet away from her. And as soon as the cameras had stopped rolling, she had to find some way to meet him…
Hours later, and an eternity of shoving pushchairs back and forward as take after take took place, the day’s shoot was over. Cat’s brain flipped into overdrive. Vikki stared open-mouthed after her friend as, without a word, she took off across the set.
“Daniel!” she said, rushing up to the production assistant. “Can I ask you a favour?” Cat might have been talking to Daniel, but her gaze was fixed on Ben, who was once again in earnest consultation with the director.
“What’s that?” asked Daniel.
“Can you introduce me to Ben sometime?” she said, coming straight to the point. “It’s just that I’m a big fan of his - of his acting, I mean. And I’d love to meet him, but I don’t want to go rushing up to him in case he thinks I’m just another autograph hunter or something!”
“Sure,” Daniel nodded amiably. “I’ll introduce you guys sometime.”
“Well, I was thinking… what about now?”
You don’t ask, you don’t get! Cat told herself, mentally crossing her fingers.
“Um, can’t right now,” Daniel shrugged apologetically. “He’s got to leave in five minutes. There’s a car waiting over there…”
Cat glanced over at the sleek, dark Jaguar with its tinted windows. Five minutes? she thought. Well, it’s a start…
“Thanks, Daniel!” Cat chirped sweetly, already hurrying off. “You’re brilliant!”
“No problem!” he called after her.
Cat shot off in the direction of her make-up bag, intent on her second lightning-quick transformation of the day - only this one she hoped would be an improvement. Exactly four minutes later, she emerged - minus the bags under her eyes and plus a dash of pink lipstick and a dash of black eyeliner.
Moments later, she was crouched down beside the flash car, rummaging in her shoulder bag for nothing in particular.
“Lost something, love?” came a voice.
Cat glanced up at the driver of the car, and wondered, from his smirking expression, if he’d sussed her out and knew she was only hanging about in an attempt to see Ben.
“I’m just trying to find my… my purse,” she muttered, annoyed that she’d been rumbled.
Feeling herself starting blush, Cat wheeled round and collided heavily with someone who was standing immediately behind her.
“Excuse me…”
Cat glanced up, a shiver rippling her spine. She recognised that voice, and it didn’t belong to the driver. Sure enough, she found herself clinging awkwardly on to the arm of a very expensive leather jacket. Gazing straight ahead, she found herself almost nose to nose with Ben Fitzpatrick himself!
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she gasped, hastily letting go of the sleeve - and immediately wishing she hadn’t. Ben Fitzpatrick smiled his sultry smile and pulled open the car door.
“That’s OK,” he shrugged. “No damage done.”
For a second, as he slid into the back seat, Ben’s sleepy eyes locked with hers and Cat’s heart pounded almost painfully.
“yes!” she whispered to herself as the car purred away. She had met Ben Fitzpatrick. Phase One of her flirting campaign was complete.
CHAPTER 10
(UN)WELCOME VISITOR?
Joe stood outside the door to Tasha’s flat - his hand held up ready to knock. But slowly, jerkily, he let it drop.
Should I go back down the main stairs and ring the buzzer at the outside door? he wondered, worried that hopping in through the impressive black door that led into the flats as someone had come out hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
He turned on his heels then stopped - rocking back and forth - as he heard music suddenly blast from the flat - a dance track that he recognised as one of Matt’s current favourites.
Someone’s in! he realised, then shook himself at his stupidity. Of course there’s someone in - they’re expecting me!
He faced the door again and had just plucked up the courage to knock once more, when he heard an angry voice yelling above the music.
“Celine! Turn that down! I’m on the phone!!”
Joe fidgeted, hauled his rucksack up on to his shoulder and dropped his other hand down again nervously. I should go back down… he decided uncertainly. Ring the buzzer. Then they’ll know I’m here…
He looked at the stairs, visualising himself hurrying back down them - and got annoyed with himself. This was his chance to get himself sorted - three days in London to get a flat together and he didn’t have any time to waste. He took a deep breath and knocked hard, before he had a chance to change his mind or lose his bottle.
“Hello?” smiled a tall, ridiculously pretty girl, looking him up and down once she’d pulled the door open. Her voice, from just that one hello, sounded accented; French, maybe, Joe decided, staring dumbly at her.
He didn’t have a clue who she was, and she obviously didn’t have a clue who he was either. Maybe it’s the wrong flat! he panicked. But he knew it couldn’t be. Since Ollie had given him the address, Joe had read and re-read it a thousand times.
“I’m… I’m Joe,” he managed to splutter out, feeling his face flush red.
The girl pouted her perfectly formed lips and frowned slightly.
“Joe? Ollie’s friend?” he tried again.
“Ahh!” the girl suddenly broke into a smile. “You must be Joe!”
“Yeah!” said Joe, relief sweeping over him. “I’m Joe!”
“Come in, Joe!” the girl ushered him in, standing to one side and opening the door wide.
Joe wandered in, tripping over the doormat as he did so. He blushed even brighter red. The girl giggled, making him feel ten times more awkward than he already felt.
“Hold
on… no, I said hold on a second… Hey, Joe! Be with you in a second!”
In a blind panic, Joe scanned the huge white and cream decorated room in front of him for the source of the voice. Over on the far wall was a doorway that led through to what must be a kitchen, where a girl with long, long legs and short denim shorts was dancing around to the music while she poured water from a kettle. To his left, a dark-haired girl in a long wispy sundress came out of a room and looked him up and down. The girl who’d let him in was still hovering at his side, looking taller than ever now she was standing right beside him.
But none of those three girls was the source of the voice. A waving hand gave Joe a clue and at last his gaze fell on the girl curled up on the vast cream sofa, dressed in matching cream linen drawstring trousers and a cream long-sleeved top. Natasha had a mobile phone pinned to one ear and was mouthing “one minute” at him.
Joe was about to do something that would make plenty of guys green with envy - spend two nights in a flat with four beautiful models. Only to Joe, being the shy boy that he was, the whole idea seemed like a bit of a nightmare.
Thanks for setting me up with somewhere to stay while I look for a place to live, Ollie, he thought to himself. But I really wish I hadn’t let you talk me into this…
CHAPTER 11
FLIRTING - TAKE TWO OR THREE
Cat sat on the grass verge, slowly stewing in the oversized, over-fluffy jumper that Rhona the wardrobe mistress had asked her to put on.
She was due on set at 10.00 am, but it was already 11.45 and she hadn’t been asked by anyone to go anywhere or do anything. But after a few days of watching or working on this set, she’d finally come to realise that there was far more sitting around waiting being done than actual acting.
“That’s the way it works!” Daniel had shrugged, when he’d stopped long enough to grab a coffee and chat to Vikki, Cat and Louise earlier.
Today, all three girls were having to do more scenes outside the shopping arcade, and Vikki and Louise had disappeared ages ago to get some food while they were waiting. In the meantime, Cat idly watched the technicians drift around busily, testing lighting and taking readings on their sound meters.