Waiting for Callback (13 page)

‘Dan’s been telling me
all
about his experience working with Kevin Spacey too,’ she said.

‘And now I’m playing your father.’ He laughed like it wasn’t funny. ‘It’s good to stay in touch with the indie stuff . . . Tom was just saying the other day
that these students can be the big directors of tomorrow.’

‘Tom as in . . . Tom Cruise?’

‘Mmm,’ he said in such a sketchy way that I was pretty sure it was another Tom that had been handing out the career advice.

My phone barked (very quietly because Megan had warned me to turn it right down in case they were doing sound checks).

How’s it going?? What you doing?? Tell me EVERYTHING.
Moss was awake and checking in.

I sent her a pic of my costume.
Verdict?

I would have gone with asymmetric sleeves, but otherwise yep, you’re a pretty well-dressed corpse. You done any filming?

Not yet

What you doing?

Just having a little campfire moment with my mum and new ‘dad’.
I took a sneaky pic for her.

Not much there for Bertie to worry about then

You have no idea

‘Addicted to your phone I see,’ said Dan, who seemed to be taking this paternal-interest thing a bit too seriously. ‘When we were working on World War Z, there was a total
mobile ban except for when Brad wanted to keep in touch with Angie . . .’ And he was off. It was a happy moment when one of the students called him over to run some solo scene.

‘You OK?’ Mum asked me (we were sitting very close together because we each had one arm in her cardigan).

‘Yes,’ I said and I was. Except for the fact that I was too scared to use the only loo because of the spiders, it was kind of cool (as Ed would say).

I was freezing, I was starving, I needed the loo, but it was All Good. I was following in a great tradition of freezing, starving artists. All that was missing was a garret in Paris.

Has any thing else happened?
Moss an hour later.

Nope, but I’ve eaten four bags of crisps and most of the biscuits.
It’s extraordinary there aren’t more fat actors.
You
still meeting Torr for ‘coffee’?

I am. You make it sound so dodgy. It’s genuinely just coffee.
Yeah, right. Moss hates coffee.
I’m in Starbucks now. Waiting.
He’d better show.

You’re early?!!
She was never, ever early. Bit keen.

No. He’s LATE.
Not keen enough? He’d cancelled last weekend’s plans at the last minute and hadn’t explained why.

He’ll show
, I texted. He’d better.

‘Right,’ shouted Ed, ‘we need Elektra and Dan for this one.’ I should have gone to the loo when I had the chance. ‘OK, guys, so this is the scene where the father
– who may or may not be alive – grieves for his dead child and tries to warm her when she wakes – or doesn’t wake. Is that all clear?’

No,
obviously
not, but we both nodded. He showed us our marks. This time I
was
going to have to start lying down. It was like lying in a very, very filthy igloo.

‘So, do you want me just here?’ asked Dan and, for the eighth time, Ed explained patiently that he did indeed want him in the exact same place he’d shown him ten minutes
earlier. I would die of hypothermia before he got to the ‘
hands me a blanket
’ bit.

‘So, we’re going to go straight into a take. Camera ready?’ asked Hadid, chalking something on to a genuine clapperboard (an object which made me irrationally happy).
‘Ready?’ And then. ‘Sound ready?’

‘Ready,’ said the student who was doing the sound.

‘Scene Three, Take One,’ said Hadid, holding the clapperboard in front of the lens.

‘Three, two,’ Ed was clearly loving this bit, ‘one,
action
!’

Hadid clapped the clapperboard and we were off.

‘I’m so, so cold,’ I started.

It was a long day. Maybe a little bit because Dan needed more takes than I did, but mostly because of technical things happening or failing to happen (there was a stressy
half-hour when they couldn’t get the walkie-talkies to work). I was pretty sure that there were rules about how long minors should be working on-set, but Ed obviously hadn’t read that
far in his ‘Working with Children and Animals’ module. It wasn’t until after eleven o’clock at night that he finally shouted: ‘That’s a wrap. Cool. Thank you
very much, everyone.’ And we all hugged and kissed (even Dan) as if we’d spent several months together on location.

I could have stayed all night. In fact, I could have stayed several months. It was a long day, but I loved it. I wanted more days like that. Although maybe in the Bahamas next time.

Mum was so tired going home that she almost crashed the car. To be honest, she quite often almost crashes the car, but this was, even by her standards, a close shave. I imagined the headlines:
PROMISING YOUNG ACTRESS PULPED ON THE HAMMERSMITH FLYOVER. HOTSHOT BREAKTHROUGH DIRECTOR EDWARD PRICE DEVASTATED BY LOSS OF HIS MUSE
. . .

Dad took one look at her face when we fell through the door and handed her an exceptionally large glass of red wine. ‘You look exhausted. I’m sorry, I should have taken
her.’

Go ahead; talk about me as if I were a parcel.

‘No, no, it was fine. I wouldn’t have wanted you to miss Chelsea v. Arsenal.’ Weirdly, I don’t even think Mum was being sarcastic. ‘Who won?’

‘Arsenal, late goal. Chelsea were robbed by the referee.’

Of course they were. We tried to look sympathetic. I think we failed.

‘We both had a hard day then,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again.’

Dad took off his big black jumper (all his jumpers are big and black: it’s an architect thing) and she pulled it on over her own clothes and gave him a hug. They weren’t very huggy
people (thank God) so I think she just wanted to warm up. Fair enough, but they were ignoring me.

‘Excuse me,
I
was the one who was working. Mum just spent the day reading her book. And I was practically naked all day so I should have got the jumper.’

‘Well, did
you
have a hard day?’ Dad asked, turning to me. He didn’t offer me any wine, which was harsh, but he did throw me the blanket from the back of the sofa. It
smelled of Digby, which was not as unpleasant as it sounds.

‘I had an
amaaazing
day. What’s for supper?’

‘It’s half past midnight.’

‘Yep, that’s probably why I’m starving.’

‘Haven’t you eaten anything?’

‘Just crisps.’ Many, many crisps. And biscuits. And chocolate.

‘Then you need pizza. Now.’

Better. Still not wine but better. I was going to tell Dad all about my day on the set – what I actually did for my moments on film, my ability to play dead like a bona-fide corpse, my
perfect response to direction, my absolute embodiment of the character, etc. etc. etc. In other words, I was going to big myself up because it was just my dad and even if he didn’t believe
every word I said (or listen to half of them) he wouldn’t hate me for bragging. But then my phone barked.

Hey, Elektra

I didn’t recognize the number.

Sorry, who’s this?

Archie
, and then a second later:
from ACT
, like I wouldn’t know.

Hey, Archie
(I know, I know, weak response.)

We all missed you today

Lens had been running a Saturday workshop on stage combat for our Thursday class.

That’s nice

I was keeping it neutral. After all, he hadn’t said, ‘I missed you today’ – ‘we all missed you’ was probably just typical Archie being polite and yet . .
.

Even Christian?

I was definitely going to keep the conversation alive.

OK, Christian didn’t miss you

Big Brian?

Big Brian definitely didn’t miss you

Haha, so what are you up to?

An open question. Moss had drilled me; I knew what to do. I had to give Archie something to work with.

Not much. I just wanted to let you know that next Thursday’s class is starting 30 mins later.

Oh, maybe not. Disappointing.

• Time (awake) spent at school: 63.1 per cent; time at school spent thinking about acting: 52.5 per cent.

• A bit distracted by a school trip to Hadrian’s Wall (very, very cold and I was sick on the coach both ways).

• Number of auditions since Dead Drop and Ed’s film: 3 (random child in some 1920s drama; role as a domestic servant in a Victorian mockumentary;
child number 3 in the background in a sausages advert); strike rate: 0.

From:
Stella at the Haden Agency

Date:
6 March 10:45

To:
Julia James

Cc:
Charlotte at the Haden Agency

Subject:
Fortuneswell
(part of Mary)

Attachments:
Character scenes.doc; production details.doc

Dear Julia,

Would Elektra be free for a meeting on Saturday 14 March at 3 p.m. at the American International Church, Tottenham Court Road with Sally Upton (casting director,
Upfront Casting) and her assistant, Tracey Broady? It’s a weekend so Elektra won’t have to miss any school to attend. Please let me know
as soon as possible
if there are any
problems.

This sounds like a fantastic project. It’s a costume drama set in rural Dorset (production details attached). A family faces challenges when the father goes
off to fight. We’ve suggested Elektra for the role of Mary, the second oldest of four daughters. It’s a great role as you’ll see from the character scenes attached. Elektra should
be
very familiar
with these scenes before the meeting.

Kind regards,

Stella

P.S. After an unfortunate incident involving one of our older clients, we’re reminding all our clients to make sure there is nothing inappropriate on their
social media and to check their privacy settings.

Thank God it was Thursday. Thank God even more that it was five thirty and I could escape to ACT. Actually, it was only five thirteen, but I needed my fix. It had been a really
bad day for a lot of reasons: