Chapter 7

One of the big disadvantages of filming is that you get used to being up early, which is why, at seven am the following morning, I was up, showered, dressed and sitting in the hotel lounge waiting for the restaurant to open for breakfast, reading my script.

I had a much bigger part in this one, which was tentatively titled Star Academy 2: Galaxy’s Edge. In fact it was pretty accurate to describe my part as the starring role, although my name still went ‘under the title.’ That meant that on the posters, the adult leads would have their names above the title, whereas mine would be below it. Similarly on the on-screen credits, their names would go after the ‘Walt Disney presents,’ followed by the film’s title, whatever that ended up as, then would come the rest of the principal actors. In Star Academy, I’d been right at the end, listed as ‘And Introducing, David J. Barker.’

It was all part of the Hollywood dog fight, where the only thing more important than billing was how much money you were being paid. There were even clauses in contracts that specified whether your name was printed on the left or the right side of the poster (left being the preferred position). Personally I didn’t care, it wasn’t an ego trip for me. I was enjoying myself, doing something I didn’t even really think of as work. And being exceptionally well paid for it.

The restaurant opened and I stood up and walked in. There was a waiter just inside the door taking room numbers, I gave mine and he looked at me, probably wondering what a lone teenage boy was doing in a luxury room on his own.

I found a table with a view of the city out of the picture window running along one wall and perused the menu. It was a buffet breakfast, but if you wanted any type of eggs other than fried, you had to order them from a waiter, one of whom came over and offered me a choice of coffee or tea. I chose coffee.

There must have been a conference on nearby because around seven forty-five the restaurant filled up with academic types, you know the sort, pipe smoking, thick glasses and sports jackets with leather patches on the elbows. And that was just the women.

Not really, but you know the stereotype, lots of very earnest conversations taking place around the breakfast tables.

I went up to the buffet and got myself a plateful of food and was surprised, when I returned to my table, to find a pert young blonde lady sat there. She was, perhaps two or three years older than me, but extremely easy on the eye.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “but all the tables are occupied and a lot of the folks at the other ones looked like real boring old farts.”

“No,” I replied, “I don’t mind at all. But what made you decide that a boring young fart would be better than a boring old one?”

“Just look at the old ones,” she replied, “besides that was an interesting looking document. It’s a film script isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I replied, “the second Star Academy story. We start rehearsals in a few weeks.”

“So, are you in it, or part of the crew?” she asked.

“In it,” I said.

“You’re an actor then?” she said, “I did a bit at Uni, but I decided to go for comedy instead. What part do you play?”

“Greg Paradise,” I said.

“He was the young boy in the first film wasn’t he?” she asked, “what’s he do in this one?”

“He’s one of the lead roles this time around,” I said, “a much bigger part?”

“With a much bigger salary I assume.”

“Actually no, because the second film was optioned before the first was released, it’s the same salary, but I get Executive Producer billing, so that gives me a bigger slice of the profits.”

“So you’re David J. Barker,” she said, “rising star of the silver screen.”

“I am, but it’s just David when I’m not working. And you are?”

“Sally Barker, I don’t think we’re related. Although I often get asked if we are. I think it might be nice to be related to someone famous.”

“I’m sure that one day you’ll BE someone famous and I’ll keep getting asked if I’m related to you.”

I’d finished my breakfast by that time so I stood up and gathered my pots onto my tray.

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you, Sally, how long are you in town for?”

“Two days,” she replied, “I’m doing a gig at the Laughter Shop tonight and tomorrow. Maybe you’ll come along and see me in action.”

“I just might,” I replied, “well, I’ll see you around.”

“Yes,” she replied, “I’d like that. If you’d like to come, just ask for me at the pay desk.”

“Thanks I will,” I said.

I went back up to my room and settled down for an hour with my script.

By the time I’d read through it once it was after nine and time to start the business of the day. I fished out the note that Cal had given me of the school’s preferred driving instructor and made arrangements to start my driving lessons on Wednesday, arranging for full days for each of the last three days of this week and half days in the afternoon of each of the five in the following week. By the end of the week the instructor, Des, promised that I’d be able to book my practical test and that I should arrange for the theory test ASAP, but definitely before I booked the practical. Before we hung up we arranged that he’d pick me up at nine on Wednesday morning from the hotel.

I texted Cal to let her know that the lessons were arranged and then went online to book my theory test. I accepted the option to be called if they had a sudden cancellation and since the test centre was only five minutes away on foot, decided that it would be easy.

Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to take a walk down Deansgate. While walking I called home, my dad answered and I was pleased to hear that Mum was home but confined to bed for the day. I asked Dad to pass on my love and continued my walk. I stopped outside the music shop where I’d bought my acoustic guitar while making the first TV series and turned up Market Street and into the Arndale Centre.

As city centre shopping malls go it was all right. It was big, but generally, it had exactly the same shops as any other city centre shopping area, there was no differentiation between it and anywhere else. I did find a model shop and one of the displays in the window caught my eye. It was one of those action figures, like an Action man, but made in the purported likeness of one Greg Paradise from some Sci-fi film or other. I decided I had to have one, then decided to get one for Cal and my sister and all the gang back home.

I was interested, mainly because I hadn’t heard of a deal for action figures from the film and none of the ones on display had the Disney authorised label on the boxes. Not that I was worried about it, just interested. I asked the guy in the shop about them.

I made a mental note to talk to James about it, bought twelve and left the shop.

I wandered aimlessly around the centre for a while, had a coffee in the food court and then set off back to the hotel. There’d be no point ringing James until after four pm, by which time he would have arrived in his office, but then it occurred to me that, as my UK representative, Andy Skillington would have copies of everything. Back in my room, I pulled out my phone, looked Andy up in my contacts list and pressed the button to call him.

“Skillington and Baxter,” a female voice answered on the second ring.

“Could I speak to Andy Skillington, please?” I asked.

“May I say who is calling,” she asked, in that sing-song voice that receptionists are noted for.

“It’s David Barker,” I said.

“And may I ask what it is concerning?”

She was starting to grate on my nerves.

“Yes, it’s about me wanting to talk to my legal representative in England.”

“There’s no need for rudeness,” she intoned.

“I’m not being rude, you asked what it’s about I told you. I could as easily have rung my California lawyer but I’m not sure he’d be happy being woken at three in the morning, therefore I am calling Andy to get the information I need. Note that I’m calling Andy, not Mr Skillington.”

“Well,” she huffed, “one moment and I’ll see if Mr Skillington is available.”

She was back a minute or so later.

“I’m sorry, Mr Skillington is with a client at the moment, may he call you back.”

“Yes, thank you,” I said, “tell him it’s not an emergency and if he can’t manage it before four, I’ll call my US agent and get the answers I need.”

“May I have your number?” she asked.

“Don’t worry, Andy has it programmed into his mobile. Bye”

I hung up and went back to the script reading I’d been doing before.

Just before twelve-thirty my phone rang. I picked it up, it was Cal.

“Hi,” I said, “to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I just felt like I wanted to hear your voice, after a morning of struggling with four part harmony.”

“I thought you liked that,” I said, “you certainly used to.”

“Still do,” she replied, “but at this level you’re supposed to break the rules deliberately, not accidentally like we used to.”

“Mr Bellamy,” I said, “‘once you know the rules and can apply them properly, then you can break them.’”

“Absolutely,” she agreed, “we’re allowed to break them, but then we have to defend our breaking of them in musical terms.”

“Like using consecutive fourths to give an oriental sound?” I asked.

“Oh, that one’s easy. Still let’s not talk about my studies.”

“All right, we won’t, do you have any plans for tonight?”

“No, why?”

“Well, I shared my breakfast table this morning with one of the acts that’s on at the Laughter Shop tonight and tomorrow and she invited me along to see the show, so, if you fancy it, I thought we could go.”

“What time?” she asked.

“About nine I think,” I replied, “we could get dinner first.”

“Then it’s a date,” she said, “want to meet somewhere at, say, seven?”

“Where is there to eat close to the venue?” I asked.

“We could meet at Piccadilly Gardens, there’s lots of nice little cafés and restaurants around there.”

“Right then, seven it is, at Piccadilly Gardens. Meet where?”

“On the corner by the old Lewis’s shop.”

“OK, love, I’ll see you then, now go get your delicious school lunch.”

We said goodbye and as I picked up my script to carry on reading, I realised that similar advice would be equally applicable to me. So I closed the script and stood up, aiming to go and find something to eat.

I found it at a café just outside Deansgate Station.

It was a hot roast beef sandwich and a bowl of vegetable soup, but it was ‘home made’ and delicious. I made a mental note of this place for lunch on another day.

Just as I arrived back in my room, my phone rang, it was Andy and I quickly told him about the action figures and asked him whether he had a copy of any contract for the use of my image in them.

He assured me that he had never seen any such contract, but that he’d check up on it. He asked for details of the shop I got them from and asked me not to dispose of them in any way until he got back to me.

“I’ll double check with James and George, but I don’t see either of them setting something like that up, particularly without your Dad and he’s the one who would have to sign the contracts.”

“So do you think it would be actionable?” I asked.

“Undoubtedly,” he said, “you own your own likeness and using it without your consent is tantamount to theft.”

“Yes and having seen one of these figures, I think I could do them for defamation of character, too.”

He laughed.

“That good eh?”

“Far from it.”

We finished our conversation with him asking me for my impression of the receptionist, who, he said was new, but came with very good references from a large company in Leeds. I gave him an honest opinion and he promised to have words with her about how she handled clients., then we said goodbye and I got back to my script.

Assuming they didn’t make too many changes between now and then, I knew that I’d be well prepared for the start of rehearsals, but I was determined that, as I usually did, I’d turn up on day one, not needing to refer to the actual document.