Chapter 3

As the applause died down, and the curtain closed after the seventh curtain call, I walked back to the boys’ dressing room to remove my make-up and get back into my own clothes. We’d had a good four nights, and I’d enjoyed playing Shylock. But it had been tiring. As I left the dressing room, Tom took hold of my arm and stopped me.

“David, have you got a minute, there’s someone who’d like to meet you?”

When we got out into the school hall, he took me over and introduced me to a small, round man with a completely bald head, and deep blue eyes. Seriously that’s all you noticed of him, the roundness and the deep penetrating blue eyes.

“Sammy, this is David Barker, our Shylock. David, I’d like you to meet an old college friend of mine. Samuel Goldfarb.”

Goldfarb stuck his hand out and we shook.

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Goldfarb.”

“Likewise,” Goldfarb said shortly, “David, I really liked what I saw tonight. You have a talent young man. Have you considered acting as a career?”

“No, not really. In fact it never occurred to me. But it is fun though, but tiring.”

“Well, I’d like you to give it some thought. And I’d like to meet your parents if that is possible?”

“They’re waiting for me in the hall. Do you really think I have talent, or are you just saying that because Mr. Tomlinson is your friend?”

“No, son, I think you have what it takes. Let’s go see your parents.”

Tom and I led him through and introduced him to the family.

“Mr Barker, Mrs. Barker, I think your son is a natural actor. He has a talent. I just sat through a school production of Shakespeare, and to put it bluntly, most of the cast stank. They were wooden, they knew their lines but in a lot of cases they were just reciting them. Your son shone. He lived the part. He convinced me that he was a wealthy Jewish merchant, and the venom in the courtroom scene was amazing. I’ve seen veteran, award-winning actors who weren’t as good in the part as him. I’d like to ask you to bring him down to London for a couple of days and put him in front of a camera. I think he could become the next Daniel Ratcliffe.”

“What would that entail?” Mum asked.

“I’d pay your expenses, hotel, travel food for the whole family. David would spend a couple of days at the studios, he’d act out a couple of scenes, we’d film them, and then, show the result to the studio execs. Look, I’ll be honest, I’m in pre-production for a film about a group of teenagers alone after an Armageddon event, I think he’d be an excellent choice for one of them. It’s not a big part, but it’s a key role, and I think a good performance from him could lead on to bigger things. It would be about three weeks work next summer, plus maybe another week later in the year for ADR work and any re-takes.”

“ADR?” my dad asked.

“Additional Dialogue Recording. Replacing any mumbled lines, slip ups in the script and so on. Usually that’s when all the swear words get taken out.”

That caused us to laugh. By now I was getting excited.

“Thank you Mr. Goldfarb. I think we need to think about this,” my dad said, “although by the look on my son’s face, he’s already composing his Oscar acceptance speech. How can we get in touch?”

Goldfarb handed him a card, then took it back and wrote on the back.

“That’s my home and cell numbers. Please think about it, and let me know either way.”

“Thank you Mr. Goldfarb...”

“Please, Sam.”

“Sam, my name’s James, and this is my wife, Pat. We’ll be in touch.”

We all shook hands and set off home.

Once we got home I took out my tablet and did an online search for Samuel Goldfarb. According to IMDB he was a successful film producer and director, and his films had won a total of 22 Oscars and over 50 other awards. And he did currently have a film in pre-production, for Disney.

“Well, that was a surprise,” Mum said as we all sat in the living room, “but a pleasant one.”

“Was I really that good?”

“Well, we’re no experts, and maybe as your parents we’re not qualified to tell, but I thought you were,” Dad replied.

Cal and her mother came in.

“I thought you were brilliant,” Cal said.

“Yeah, but you’re prejudiced,” I replied, giving her a peck on the lips.

“No I just have excellent taste in men.”

“I take it you’re in favour of taking up Sam’s offer?” dad asked me.

I just nodded.

“What offer?” asked Cal.

“One of your English teacher’s friends, Samuel Goldfarb was in the audience tonight.”

“The film producer,” Cal squealed, “why didn’t you tell me. Did you get his autograph?”

“Yes, that one, and no I didn’t. He wants me to go to London and do a screen test for a part in a film. And I didn’t know he was coming.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Hold on,” Mum said, “we haven’t decided if anyone is going yet. David would you want to do this?”

“I think so.”

“You only think so?”

“I’d need to look at what was involved, how would it impact school? How long would I be away for and where would it be filmed?”

“All good questions son, why don’t we find out?” My dad asked, and took out Sam Goldfarb’s card, and dialled the mobile number on it.

Dad switched to speaker.

“Goldfarb.”

“Hi Sam, it’s James Barker.”

“Hello again, have you made a decision?”

“No we’re having a family meeting about your proposal, and a couple of questions have come up.”

“Ok, fire away.”

“Well, we’re pretty much OK with the screen test.”

He looked round and everyone nodded.

“OK, so what doubts have you got?”

“Not doubts really, just questions. I think we all have a rough idea of what’s involved in a film shoot, but David is worried about the impact on his school work.”

“That’s an easy one to answer. There will be a teacher on set at all times, and we’d liaise with the school to make sure that he was doing the same work as his classmates.”

“Where would the film be made?”

“It’s planned to do most of the filming at Disney’s Golden Hall Ranch in Newhall California.”

That one shook me. Three weeks in California I was in.

“Mr Goldfarb,” I asked, “could my family come too?”

“How many?”

“Me, obviously, my Mum and dad, brother, sister,” I looked over at Cal, “and my girlfriend and her Mum.”

“I’m not sure the studio would spring for that many, they’re notoriously stingy, but you do realise you could afford to pay for the ones they won’t out of your fees.”

“How much are we talking here?” Mum asked.

“First time actor in a supporting role, three weeks work would probably be about £250,000.”

“HOW MUCH?” I shouted.

“A quarter of a million pounds.”

“But first,” Goldfarb put the brakes on, “you have to pass the screen test.”

“OK, thanks Sam,” my dad ended the call.

“So?” Mum asked after we’d all been silent for a while.

“Yes.” I said.

Everybody else agreed.

“OK then, Dad can you ring Mr. Goldfarb back and tell him we’ll do the screen test?”

Dad did that, and was told that we’d get the details couriered to us after the weekend.

He was true to his word, and, according to Mum, a man on a motorcycle pulled up outside the house on Monday afternoon and delivered a large envelope full of papers.

When I got home from school, she’d already taken a look. There was a script, a release to sign for the screen test, a set of instructions on how to get to the studio and seven security passes, and a booking for 7 at the DeVere Hotel, Beaumont Estate Windsor, for the following weekend, together with a cheque for £500 to cover travel and food.

Mum had already checked with dad and Aunt Mary that they were OK for that weekend, and since school was over for two weeks so were us kids. WE were going to Windsor for the weekend.

The drive down in our Renault Grand Espace took us nearly four hours on Friday evening after school finished, and we arrived, tired, at the hotel just after 9pm. We were met by a young woman in her mid-twenties.

“David Barker?” she asked.

“That’s me.”

“Welcome to Beaumont David. My names Julia Graham, I’m the PA to Mr Goldfarb’s PA.”

“Wow,” I thought, “this guy is so important even his PA has a PA.”

“And is there a PA to the PA’s PA?” I asked.

“No unfortunately, I have to do all the jobs no one else wants.”

“So nobody else wants to greet us tonight then?”

“No, nobody else was available. So you got stuck with me.”

My dad interrupted us.

“Well I’m sure we’ll be able to stand that. We were just about to dump our bags and then get something to eat. Would you like to join us? Sam’s footing the bill.”

“In that case I’d love to. I was going to get takeaway on the way home.”

We went into the hotel dining room and got a table for eight. We found out that Julia was a film studies graduate from London University, and was hoping to become a film journalist. She was from Cardiff, and shared a flat in London with two friends. We never spoke about the weekend the whole time we were eating.

She also told us that a car would pick us up at 9 in the morning to take us to the studios, and that Sam had booked a box for Saturday evening to see Les Miserables which made both our mothers happy because they’d been talking about it for years. While I was getting ready for the screen test, the rest of my party would be given a tour of the studios, where, according to Julia, many of the finest British and some American films had been filmed over nearly a hundred years.

After dinner Julia said goodnight and we all went into the bar of the hotel so the parents could have a drink. When they ordered, James tried blagging a cider, but in the end all four of us got diet Pepsi. Cal was sharing a room with her Mum. We four all went up to our rooms and left the parents drinking. I took Cal to their room and stayed a while for some serious lip action. We were in a clinch, lips locked together and my hand cupping her left breast (outside her clothes), when we heard a cough.

We broke with a speed that must have set some kind of record.

“I hope you two weren’t planning on taking that any further,” her Mum said, but at least she was smiling.

“Er no,” I managed to squeak, guilty at being copped while copping a feel.

“Just so long as you remember the limits.”

“We will Mum.”

I gave her one last kiss, then got up, kissed her Mum on the cheek and left.

After breakfast we were stood outside waiting for our ride to the studio.

“Mum had a word about limits after you left last night. I think your Mum may have a similar discussion with you,” Cal informed me.

“What did your Mum say.”

“In summary, she said that so long as no part of your anatomy other than your tongue enters into any part of my anatomy, it’s fine.”

“No part of my anatomy other than my tongue?”

“I think she meant tongues during kissing is fine, and touching, even under my clothes.”

“I assume she means when we’re alone, not if she’s around.”

“I think that may be the case, yes.”

“But, if she means literally what she said, then maybe I could, you know, put my tongue in somewhere else.”

“Ooh, I like your thinking. Want me to check with her?”

“Probably better not to.”

“Why?”

“Well if she didn’t mean we could, and we got caught, we could claim that she said except my tongue.”

Cal giggled, which hadn’t stopped when her Mum joined us.

“What’s amused you two?” she asked.

“She was just explaining your talk last night after you caught us making out.”

“So what’s so funny, I just said that no part of your anatomy...”

She stopped and looked at us both strangely.

“Oh, dear, it looks like I gave you permission to erm ... I did didn’t I”

“It looks like it.”

“Look you two, I know, and you know what’s going to happen eventually, so why don’t we just say, I’d rather you did it somewhere safe and comfortable than behind the bike sheds at school. I’m not saying get on with it, but when the time’s right, make it special, and be safe and warm.”

We exchanged a glance. Had Cal’s Mum just given us permission?

A minibus pulled up, and Julia got out.

“Your carriage awaits,” she said, and we all climbed in.

At the studio we were introduced to the cameraman, Peter, sound man Jack and the lighting technician, Stephen, he stressed the ph in his name.

Sam explained that it was the job of the three of them to present me in the best way possible, then I was sent off to make up. When I came out, Cal gave me a big toe-curling kiss on the lips, and Mum took pictures.

“What was that for?” I asked, mystified.

“I now have pictorial evidence of the day I kissed you and ruined your make up.”

The actress I was working with laughed shook her head. I introduced her to everyone, her name was Sasha Leonard.

The make-up girl laughed, touched me up (the make-up that is) and we went off onto the set.

Sam told us which scene we were doing first, everyone took their places.

The scene was a lot of dialogue and not much action.

Sam yelled.

“Quiet on the set, Camera.”

“Speed,” came the reply.

It took three takes before Sam was satisfied, all the retakes having been caused by the professional actress fluffing her lines.

We did another two scenes, one of which called for me to run about the woods wearing nothing but thin cotton trousers. I needed a hot shower to warm up after that, and the big love scene between the male and female leads. Neither I nor Sasha was up for those roles, but we played the scene like we meant it, and I must have been good, because Cal looked a little peeved when we finished.

Finally Sam asked me to do the ‘Hath not a Jew eyes?’ speech from Merchant of Venice.

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Don Carter

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