Chapter 25

The rest of Saturday we spent just relaxing, the TV shows were a bit heavily biased towards American output, but I did manage to find one channel showing the evening kick-off Premier League match, which I enjoyed, especially since it was Leeds United playing, and they managed a good three-nil win over West Ham. Maria made us a very nice dinner of steak, baked potato and a green salad, simple but excellent, and we played cards for a couple of hours before we went off to bed and, unusually, straight to sleep.

Sunday was the barbecue at our esteemed director’s house, but that was for the afternoon. The morning was for relaxing at home, catching up on my homework and just chilling.

At twelve we had a sandwich lunch, and I suggested to Sandy that we needed to get going.

“I’m sorry, love,” she replied, “I’ve got a terrible headache, do you mind if I don’t go. I wouldn’t want to spoil your afternoon.”

I knelt on the floor beside her chair and took her hand.

“Have you taken something for it?” I asked, “what do you call it over here? Advil?”

“No, but you could be a darling and get me some,” she answered.

I was up like a shot and off to the bathroom medicine cabinet, where Maria kept the pain killers and took two back to her, along with a glass of water.

“Thanks,” she said.

“If you’re not feeling up to it, I can call and tell him we won’t be going.”

“No,” she replied, “I’ll be fine, you go and unwind. Besides, you have to confront him about the schooling.”

I wasn’t happy leaving her, but eventually, I agreed but promised not to stay too long.

“Stay as long as you need to,” was her reply.

I ordered a car to pick me up at one forty-five since I was assured that the house I was going to was only a fifteen-minute drive away.

That was an optimistic estimate, it actually took a little over thirty minutes between him arriving, five minutes late and pulling into the driveway at Ben’s house.

The whole cast was there, together with the production team and some of the crew, and some others who I didn’t recognise.

Ben greeted me in the hallway and explained where everything was, then disappeared into the house and left me to my own devices.

I wandered into the big family room and got myself a diet Pepsi from the bar in there.

“Wouldn’t you like something stronger?” the barman asked me.

“No thanks,” I said, “apart from the odd glass of wine with dinner, I don’t drink alcohol.”

He took a bottle of Pepsi from the back of the bar and a glass from the shelf over it.

“I’ll just take the bottle thanks,” I told him, holding out my hand.

He handed me the bottle and turned to serve someone else.

Someone else turned out, when I looked, to be a cute blonde teenage girl, about my age, maybe a year older, five foot five with pale greenish-blue eyes, almost the colour of the ice in an iceberg. Her long blonde hair was done up in a ponytail and she had one of the most incredibly pretty faces I had ever seen.

“Hi,” she said, “I’m Amy.”

“David,” I introduced myself, “are you an actress?”

“Lord, no,” she replied, “I’m just a high school student. You’re that English guy, aren’t you, the one that’s in Ben’s new show?”

“Yes,” I replied, “so if you’re not an actress, how do you happen to be here?”

“I live here,” she replied, “Gary’s my Mom’s boyfriend.”

“So you go to school here then?” I asked, “or back in California?”

“Here, Kits Secondary,” she replied, “Gary lives here with us except when he’s away filming.”

“Isn’t that where we are filming the school scenes?” I asked, “That’s you and your Mum, living here, yes?”

“No, me, my Mom and my little sister, Becky,” she replied.

“Ah,” I said, “well, it’s really nice to meet you, Amy,” I said, “but I think I’d better go and circulate, and find Ben, I need to talk to him. About the show.”

“I’m here all day if you get lonely,” she said.

“I’ll bear that in mind,” I answered her before I set off to find Gary.

“Maybe I’ll see you later,” she added as I left.

“That would be nice,” I said and went exploring the house looking for our director.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find him in any of the public areas of the house, and I didn’t feel like going upstairs and checking bedrooms, so I contented myself for the moment with saying hello to some of my colleagues on the show.

He was outside on the patio, cooking various types of meat on a barbecue, the for real, genuine, charcoal burning type.

“Are you any good with one of these?” he asked, “I could use an assistant chef.”

“I’ve helped my Dad a few times,” I replied, “but ours is a gas barbecue.”

“Well, this is about the same,” he said, “except that it burns the meat quicker. Grab an apron and a set of tongs, and come around this side, I’ll teach you the down-home Texas way to cook meat.”

“You’re from Texas?” I asked.

“Sure am,” he said, “from a little flyspeck on the map called Wink, which same, nobody ever heard of.”

“My Dad’s got a record in his collection by a group called the Wink Westerners,” I replied, “maybe that’s the same place.”

“Sure is,” he replied, “a guy called Roy Orbison, he was their singer and had a lot of big hits in the sixties. He’s the town’s other celebrity son.”

He pronounced it See-lebrity, I could almost hear the air quotes around that.

“My Dad has all his records,” I said, “he was a big fan in his teens.”

“Chances are then, your Dad is the only guy on the planet who ever heard of Wink,” he laughed.

I joined him in laughter, then got serious.

“Ben, there’s something I need to discuss with you,” I said.

“Well, now might be a good time then,” he replied, “what is it?”

“Schooling,” I said, “there was none this last week. My education is important to me, and I need to keep up with my homework from school.”

“That’s not really my area,” he said, “but I’ll tell you what, I’ll be talking to JP tonight, I’ll raise it with him.”

“Thanks, Ben,” I replied, “I’d appreciate that.”

“Just one thing, David,” he said, “JP is one of those old-time producers who don’t think education for actors is anything other than a pointless waste of time and money. I suspect he’ll just say you should suck it up and get on with what you’re contracted to do.”

“To which I would have to, reluctantly, reply, suck it up and do what you’re contracted to do,” I answered.

“What do you mean?” he asked, suspiciously, “you wouldn’t walk off the production would you?”

“Not unless that became the last resort,” I said, “but that’s no reflection on you.”

“Shit,” he said, “I need to call JP. He needs to get on top of this.”

“I can’t argue with that,” I agreed.

“Look, I’m sorry, David,” he said, “I didn’t know. I will make it right.”

I wasn’t sure how sincere he was when he said that, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, for now at least.

“So, what are we cooking?” I asked.

“Chicken, Bratwursts, Burgers, Steaks,” he said, “some vegetables and fish.”

For the next hour or so the two of us were kept busy, first cooking a batch of food then serving it, with me doing the serving while Ben cooked the next batch.

The sausages were the most popular followed by burgers, after the first batch, the steaks and chicken were just cooked as people asked for them, although it surprised me that most of the people who came for seconds asked for the fish, which Ben told me was Alaskan Pollock.

Two of the last people to come up for food were Alison Caterham, who was playing my stepmother in the show and what really surprised me was that she was accompanied by Amy, who I’d met earlier, and a younger girl, presumably her sister.

“Hi,” I greeted them, “what can I get you?”

“We’ve come to give you two a break,” Alison said, “and, you, mister, shame on you, inviting David over and then making him work.”

“He volunteered,” Ben complained.

“Did you?” she asked as Ben looked at me pleadingly.

“Yes,” I replied, “and I’ve been getting to know Ben. A bit of male bonding.”

“Well, I’ll take over now,” she said, “you run off and have a good time. Amy, why don’t you and Becky take him and introduce him to the folks he doesn’t know.”

They took me by one hand each and began to lead me away.

“David,” Alison called after me, “Apron?”

I stopped, freed myself from the two girls and took off my apron, throwing it to her.

“Behave, you two,” she called after us, “don’t break him.”

“No, Mom,” Becky shouted back as we disappeared into the house.

They led me back into the house, to the family room and started introducing me to the folks who were there, but unconnected with the show.

There were too many of them for me to ever remember their names, and besides, they weren’t important enough to me to go to the trouble, ninety-nine per cent of them I’d never meet again after today. There were some, mainly younger ones, who recognised me as Greg Paradise, but generally, they were just friends of Ben and Alison, or in some cases friends of Alison’s two girls and their parents.

It was actually a good afternoon, and I enjoyed myself, but I wanted to get back to Sandy, I just didn’t feel right being out when she was stuck in the house, so, around six, I asked Ben to call a taxi for me.

“Don’t be silly,” he said, “my driver’s here, he can take you back.”

“Thanks,” I said, “and thanks for a pleasant afternoon.”

“My pleasure,” he replied, “and we’ll sort out that little problem tomorrow.”

“Okay thanks, Ben,” I answered, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He held out his hand and we shook.

“Take care, David,” he said, and he turned to go back to the party, while I walked out and to a waiting car.

When I walked back into the house twenty-five minutes later Sandy was laid on the sofa sleeping.

I walked quietly over to her, leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips, her eyes opened and she smiled.

“How’s the headache?” I asked.

“Better,” she said, “still there, but just a dull ache.”

“You should see a doctor,” I advised her, “make sure there’s nothing wrong.”

“I’ll be fine tomorrow,” she insisted, “but if it carries on, or it gets worse, I will I promise.”

“So why don’t I take you up to bed and I’ll join you there in a little while, I have an early start tomorrow,” I said.

“Okay,” she said, her voice small and weak sounding, “thank you.”

I leaned down and kissed her then held out my hands to help her up.

Upstairs I helped her undress then pulled her nightgown out from under the pillow and slipped it over her head, laid her in the bed and tucked her in.

I leaned over, gave her a soft kiss on the lips and told her I’d be back in about an hour.

Downstairs I found Maria in the kitchen.

“How was your party?” she asked.

“Sort of all right,” I said, “Ben has promised to sort out the schooling problem tomorrow, but I’m more concerned about Sandy.”

“The headaches?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, “will you make sure she sees a doctor tomorrow?”

“She’s headstrong,” she replied, “she’ll probably refuse.”

“How about you get one to come here?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” she said.

“Well there’s a certain Greek gentleman who practises medicine,” I said, “you could invite him to lunch, or dinner, depending on his shifts.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” she asked.

“Maria, you live here, if you want to have friends over, you invite them,” I replied, “you don’t need permission from anyone.”

“David,” she said quietly, “why couldn’t you have come into our lives five years ago?”

“Well probably because I’d have been eleven,” I said, “and still thought girls were yucky.”

“Somehow I don’t think you were ever eleven,” she said, “I think you were born an adult. You’re certainly a lot more adult than a lot of adults I know.”

“Thank you,” I said, unsure of anything I could add.

“You know my daughter loves you, don’t you?” she asked.

“And I love her too,” I said.

“Do you David?” she asked, “or are you just in love with her?”

“Aren’t they the same thing?” I asked.

“No,” she replied, “I was in love with Sandy’s father, but I don’t think I ever loved him. Tell me when you’re not with Sandy what are you thinking about?”

“Well, when I’m working, I’m thinking about my lines and moves,” I replied, “where I should be on set, what I should be doing, that sort of thing.”

“And when you’re not?”

“Home, family, Sandy, you,” I replied.

“There you are then, and which of those is foremost in your mind?”

I thought for a moment.

“Sandy,” I said softly, “she’s never far from the front.”

“That’s loving,” she said, “having someone constantly in your thoughts even when they are not there, rather than just wanting them there all the time. If you wanted to do something and she wanted to do something different, what would you do?”

“Well, if it was something to do together, I’d defer to her, but if it was two things we needed to do separately, that wouldn’t be a problem,” I replied.

“All right,” final question, “how long do you see you and Sandy being together?”

“I hope forever,” I said.

“Then I’d say you love her,” she answered, “just try and keep on doing that.”

“I intend to,” I replied, “and now, I think it’s time I went to bed, I have work tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, David,” she said, “what time do you want breakfast in the morning?”

“I need to be at the studio by seven, so don’t get up,” I said, “I’ll get something at the studio.”

“Nonsense,” she replied, “the pair of you will not leave here without a decent breakfast inside you. Now, what time is the car picking you up?”

“Six-thirty,” I answered.

“Then I’ll have breakfast ready at five forty-five,” she added with an air of finality.