Classic Calls the Shots Read Online Free PDF Page B

costumed cast, judging by the odd dress suit and plus fours. One or two of the women were in slinky cocktail dresses.
    â€˜I always feel half in character here,’ Louise said. ‘A sort of betwixt and between place. Don’t worry though. I won’t seduce you here.’
    â€˜Pity,’ I said lightly. I was conscious that we both seemed to be skirting round the edges of the next step – if there was one.
    Muted conversations seemed the order of the day here too. I could see Tom sitting at a table with several other men and a pleasant-looking woman of about forty, all talking earnestly. Louise and I found a table nearby and I went to get some coffee. ‘This car adviser . . .’ I began, as I returned bearing the cups.
    â€˜You’ll meet him on Monday.’
    â€˜Who—?’
    At that moment I saw Angie striding in, clad in designer jeans and expensive jewellery, with – of course – large sunglasses on top of her head and an expression that conveyed that she was important. She looked both a joke and formidable, as she swanned over to Tom. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but the meaning was clear, because Tom pushed back his chair, got to his feet and walked out, white-faced. As he passed us, he managed a wink. ‘It’s the push again. Collect the cash and go.’
    One of his companions, a man who looked in his mid thirties, with a gentle face and dark hair plastered back, no doubt for thirties’ style, stood up to confront Angie. ‘You can’t do this,’ he yelled at her, visibly trembling, as she stalked off to the counter. ‘Not again.’ The room was suddenly hushed.
    Angie stopped in her tracks and spun round. ‘I have done it, Chris,’ she said coolly. ‘Or rather Roger has.’
    â€˜We all know it’s you who wants Tom out.’
    â€˜Sit down, Chris,’ one of his neighbours said quietly. ‘You won’t do Tom any good.’ He was older, perhaps fifty or so, and certainly wiser. Chris reluctantly obeyed, looking near to tears either with frustration or fear.
    â€˜Good is what I want,’ Angie said coolly. ‘The good of the film. Whatever it takes.’ She was infuriatingly calm, seeming almost bored. She must have strong cards in her hands, I thought, to risk being so unpopular.
    â€˜That’s hard to see,’ the older man remarked.
    â€˜No doubt it is – for you, Brian,’ Angie said.
    At this, Brian seemed about to leap up to defend himself, but the third man at the table (‘Graham,’ Louise hissed) stopped him. The woman (‘Joan Burton’) said sharply, ‘Don’t, Brian.’
    Angie smirked – no other word for it – clearly aware that she was the object of fascinated attention. ‘We require high standards here. From both cast
and
extras. Do remember that, Chris. I hope your work lives up to it. Yours too, Brian. And Graham, isn’t it?’ She then added as an afterthought, ‘And even you, Joan.’
    The meaning was crystal clear to everyone. Shut up or get out. No ‘background’ for her. They were mere extras.
    With that, Angie decided to leave the canteen, perhaps thinking that coffee wasn’t such a bright idea after all.
    â€˜Sure this isn’t a scene shoot?’ I asked Louise in wonder.
    â€˜I wish it was. She’s for real, unfortunately. You think that’s bad. You should hear what she spits out in a one to one confrontation.’
    â€˜As bad as that?’
    â€˜Oh yes. That’s why I didn’t intervene just now. It would have made things worse. Luckily she can’t give me a lethal wound but others aren’t in such a good position. Chris Frant and Graham East are basically non-speaking, although they’re playing von Ribbentrop and the Prince of Wales respectively. Brian Tegg, the older man, might seem less vulnerable because he’s a supporting actor playing Lord Charing,