Phoebe
“You like him, don’t you?” Beth asked as she turned into the railway station car park.
She was taking the boys out for the day, so she had given me a lift. It had meant Mack and Callum getting up early, for a non-school day, but they were still buzzing from meeting Grantley and being on set, so it wasn’t too difficult a task.
“Who?” I reached down for my bag, wondering which of the numerous pockets I’d put my rail pass into.
“You know who. Grantley,” she whispered, glancing at Callum and Mack in the back seat through the rear-view mirror. “I can tell by the looks you were giving him.”
“I was not.”
And I really wasn’t, not to my knowledge anyway. I didn’t think I looked at him any differently than I did Barney.
“Anyway, it’s you he has a thing for.” I grinned at her.
“Hah,” Beth spat out a laugh. “That’s ridiculous and you know it, you’re just trying to deflect.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are, just like you did last night over the zoo incident.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, and I haven’t forgiven you for that either.”
“Ah, don’t be a spoilsport, it was funny.” Manoeuvring into a parking space, Beth called over her shoulder. “Okay boys, grab your coats and backpacks.”
“Where are we going?” Mack asked.
“You’ll see when we get there, it’s a surprise.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, opening the passenger door after she pulled to a stop.
Beth shrugged. “No idea, depends which train comes in first, but probably Liverpool.”
“Well, I’ll be late tonight, so don’t bother with any dinner for me.”
“Okay,” Beth nodded. “We probably won’t be back until early evening anyway, so we’ll eat out.”
Once outside the car, I bent to kiss the boys.
“Have a great day you two.”
Callum kicked a stone. “I wish we could go and watch the film again and see Dick.”
I grimaced inwardly at him calling Grantley, Dick, but hey it was done now.
“Ooh you meanie,” Beth cried, clutching a hand to her heart. “I can’t believe you don’t want to spend the day with me, your amazing mum.”
Callum looked horrified that he’d upset her. “No, I do, but I wanted to see Dick and it’s so exciting watching the film being made.”
“There’s loads of fighting,” Mack added, grabbing Beth’s hand and shaking it excitedly.
“Not today, buddy,” I said with a sigh. “It’s a really boring day today. Lots of scenes with just talking, no action at all.”
Mack nodded. “Okay.”
“Will you say hello to Dick for us?” Callum asked. “And don’t forget the picture.”
“I won’t,” I said ruffling his hair. “It’s safe in my bag.”
The boys had drawn a picture for Grantley as a thank you for the lift home and for staying for dinner. Neither of my nephews were budding artists, so I imagined it wasn’t going to be particularly good. I didn’t know because they’d put it in an envelope marked ‘Dick Private’, which made the school girl inside me giggle.
By the time I reached the studio, I just had time to go over to catering and grab a coffee, before I needed to get to the holding area. There were a few crowd scenes being shot, and we were all being bussed out to the location.
After grabbing a coffee and stuffing down a chocolate croissant, I was making my way out of the canteen, when Grantley came striding in, his phone glued to his ear. He looked at me so I gave a wave, but he didn’t respond and stormed straight past me, up to the counter.
“I need you here, Marcia.”
His voice was loud and hard, causing everyone to turn and look at him. As he reached the counter, he banged his hand down and demanded ‘coffee, black’. Claire, one of the catering girls, used to prima donna actors didn’t bat an eyelash and poured Grantley his coffee, popped on the lid and passed it to him. How they did that I had no idea. I hated rudeness and Grantley had just been plain rude. I watched as, resting his phone between his neck and chin, he snatched up a packet of sugar, ripped it open, pulled off the lid and poured the sugar into the coffee, before throwing the empty packet on the counter top and slamming the lid to the cup back on. There was a bloody waste bin only a couple of feet away from him. This wasn’t the same man who had insisted on cleaning up wine glasses and pizza boxes before leaving Beth’s house the night before.
As I was about to turn and leave, Grantley started walking my way. His eyes turned towards me and as they did he growled into the phone.
“Get here Marcia, no excuses.”
He stabbed at the screen on his phone and stood in front of me.
“Hi,” I said, looking up at his tall frame.
Grantley’s eye twitched a couple of times before he finally spoke.
“Morning. How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
There seemed to be a tension between us and I wasn’t sure why. He’d left on perfectly good terms the night before. Maybe that was it, he was regretting giving me, a lowly extra, a lift and then staying to have dinner with me and my family. Well if that was it, he could shove his attitude where the sun didn’t shine, i.e.-up his bum.
“Not really,” he sighed, taking a sip of his coffee and wincing. “Fuck, this coffee is shit. Why the hell don’t they get some decent stuff? I swear it’s that instant stuff you Brits insist on drinking.”
“Maybe if you spoke to Claire, the girl behind the counter,” I pointed to Claire who was busy pouring a cup of tea for someone, “and told her your preference to fresh coffee, she would make sure that’s what you got. Otherwise, it’s likely you’re going to get the instant stuff that we Brits insist on drinking.”
Grantley tilted his head and shoving a hand into his jean pocket, studied me.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m just wondering why you always feel the need to repeat things back to me when you’re giving me crap.”
“Take it as a compliment,” I said, turning to walk away. “You’re obviously so eloquent I can’t think of anything better to hit back at you with, except your own words.”
Grantley let out a laugh and shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. “You brighten my fucking day, Peepee, you really do.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so decided to say nothing and walk away.
“Hey,” Grantley called. “Where are you going?”
“The holding area.”
I didn’t turn but kept walking, only for Grantley to fall into step beside me.
“I’ll be nicer to catering,” he said, bending slightly to speak into my ear. “I promise.”
I glanced at him and frowned when I saw a grin on his face. A strand of hair fell into his eyes and my hand twitched at my side, wanting to brush it away so I could see his eyes that were unusually full of humour. They didn’t show it often, usually they were dark with surliness or anger – he really should try it more often, they were beautiful when he did.
Clearing my throat, I turned away. “Well make sure you do.”
“Promise.”
I didn’t need to look at Grantley to know he was laughing at me.
“So what’s crawled up your backside and bitten your nadgers, to get you in such a bad mood?”
Coffee spurted out in front of us as Grantley spluttered out a laugh.
“What the fuck are my nadgers?”
I stopped in my tracks and looked up at him with cocked brows.
“Your nuts, your bollocks, what else would they be?”
Grantley shrugged. “I had no idea. Sorry, it’s not a word I picked up from watching EastEnders on the BBC World Service channel.”
“You don’t watch that, you liar.”
“What the BBC World Service or EastEnders?”
“Either.”
“I watch both, or I did. I had a really small part as a British college kid in an episode of Breaking Bad.”
My eyes widened. “No way, I bloody love Breaking Bad. I don’t remember any British college kid.”
“There wasn’t; I was cut from the scene. I went into Walter’s classroom to give another kid a message and for some crazy reason they wanted me to be British. Because I’m a true professional, I wanted to deliver my three lines with the correct accent, so I watched the BBC and particularly, EastEnders, for three weeks solid.”
I burst out laughing. “And they still cut you?”
Grantley nodded with a sigh. “Yep, I ended up on the cutting room floor.”
He actually looked hurt as he pouted around the lid of his corrugated take-out cup.
“Sorry,” I replied.
“Ah it’s fine, but the point is I’ve never heard the word nadgers.”
“Well, now you have. So, you still haven’t answered me. What’s got you so moody? Are you regretting taking me and the boys home and staying for dinner?”
I had very little filter when something was concerning me. I liked open and honest, even if it was with the leading actor in the Hollywood movie that I was on as a mere extra. Grantley must have been a little taken aback too, because he pulled up and straightened his shoulders.
“Why the hell would you think that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. You were fine when you left and then just strutted past me like I was invisible.”
He rubbed a hand over his stubble and closed his eyes.
“I can assure you it’s not you, your nephews, or your sister that has me so antsy.”
At the mention of Beth, I pulled in a sharp breath and felt a little stab in my breast bone. God, what a bitch I was. If he liked Beth, which I was pretty sure he did, I should be happy for her. She deserved some fun and someone to care about her.
“Beth really enjoyed your company last night,” I said, looking down at my shoes and making a mental note to polish them when I got home.
“Well I enjoyed it too, honestly.”
“You could take her on a date,” I blurted out. “I’d look after the boys.”
Grantley’s eyes doubled in size as he leaned his upper body closer to me.
“What? I-I like Beth, but-”
“Honestly it’s fine. I know you’re not here for long, but you could just be company for each other.”
He looked around the room and everyone who was watching our interaction all turned away, or carried on their conversations.
“Seriously Phoebe,” he hissed. “I don’t have a thing for Beth. Not like that.”
“Well like what then?” I slammed a hand to my waist. “Because if you think she’ll agree to be some sort of ‘location fuck buddy’, she won’t.”
“God no,” he gasped. “I think she’s an amazing woman and mother, bringing the boys up alone, but I don’t have any romantic feelings for her.”
It was my turn to go bog-eyed as an elongated ‘oh’ escaped my mouth.
“Yeah, oh.”
Grantley’s lips pinched together as he studied me. Shit, now was the time he threw me off the set.
“I’m so sorry. I know I said I’d behave, but I was just trying to help. I thought that you-.”
“Phoebe,” he snapped, “just stop will you.”
“But if you throw me off set, what happens if we have to do some reshoots. Alexi will be really mad, he’ll have to get another extra in to say my lines.”
“Phoebe, seriously, I hate to break it to you but Penny could deliver those lines.”
“I thought I played the part extremely well,” I said indignantly.
Grantley gave a weary laugh and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You were brilliant, but-.”
“Oh, now you’re being sarcastic.”
“No, I’m not.” He sighed and I could sense his patience was wearing a little thin.
“Sorry, I should shut up.”
“Yep, maybe you should.”
Grantley flicked out his tongue and licked his bottom lip and I couldn’t take my eyes of it, as it moved from one corner of his mouth to the other.
“Listen, I think Beth is an amazing mother and I have the utmost respect for the job she’s done. I know it’s public record that I have a fractious relationship with my own mother, so my admiration of your sister comes from the knowledge I have personally on how shitty a fucking mom can be. And that is why I’m so pissed this morning.”
“Because Beth is a good mum?”
“No, because mine isn’t, but is insisting on coming here to visit me.”
“Maybe she’s trying to make amends,” I offered. He was right, it was public knowledge about the frostiness between him and his mum. One paper even reported that he’d tried to run her over with his car once –although it was the same newspaper that said Angelina Jolie was actually Brad Pitt and vice versa; they simply liked dressing up as each other to fox the press.
“Nope.” Grantley shook his head and started to walk again. “Sue-Ann Miller doesn’t apologize for any reason. Sue-Ann Miller does what she can to help herself. She’s coming here for a reason, but I can assure you, it won’t be to see her only son.”
“So what are you going to do?” I pushed open the double doors out of the canteen area, leading us into the very corridor that I first bumped into Grantley.
“That’s what the call was about,” he explained. “I was telling Marcia, my agent, to get herself over here and sort it out.”
“You told her,” I said, tilting my head. “Not asked?”
Grantley huffed out a laugh. “No, Phoebe. When you meet Marcia you’ll realize you don’t ask her to do anything. She’d much prefer you to tell her, because then she can tell you to fuck off, fly in, and save the day when you’re least expecting it and love her forever because of it. Plus, it means you owe her.”
I nodded slowly and the main thing I took from it was when he said ‘when you meet Marcia’ and wondered if that meant we were friends.
Grantley looked at the large but elegant watch on his wrist and groaned. “I’ve got to go, I’ve got to record some dialogue with Don before we go on location. The sound was muffled.”
“Okay. Well, have a good day.”
Grantley paused as though he was going to say something else, but nodded and started to walk away. As he reached a door to another corridor, I remembered something.
“Oh Grantley,” I called. “I have something for you.”
“For me?”
Grantley turned and made his way back to me. I jogged to meet him halfway, while rummaging in my bag.
“Ah, here it is.” I pulled out the boys’ picture and handed it to him.
Ripping open the envelope, Grantley took the picture, drawn on stiff, light green paper, and looked down at it. As his brow furrowed, I began to worry he hated it and if he did then I seriously couldn’t like him any longer. I knew the boys weren’t that good at art, but they were my little munchkins and no one dissed their efforts. Just as I was about to snatch the paper from him and storm away, he let out a huge laugh.
“Oh my God, that’s fucking brilliant.”
“It is?”
“Yeah it is. I wasn’t sure who it was supposed to be at first, but then I saw this.”
He turned the picture to me and there at the top of the page in capital letters, were the words DICK HEAD, with an arrow pointing to a man with neat stubble, aka Grantley James, Hollywood Movie star.