Shopaholic to the Stars

Page 73

“Cut!”

I sit back on my heels and wave at Suze, trying not to feel envious. It’s OK for her: She’s on a step, where everyone can see her. She’s even been given a proper prop—an old broken comb—and she’s combing her tangled hair with theatrical flourish.

“Excuse me.” A mellifluous voice hits my ear, and a tiny button boot appears in front of my eyes. I look up and feel a jolt of awe. It’s April Tremont! Herself! She’s stepping into the chair and lifting up her skirts so I can rub at her boots.

“I guess you’re polishing these,” she says with a nod. “Poor you.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” I say at once. “It’s fun. You know. I love polishing boots. I mean, not just on film sets; I love polishing them at home, and in the garden, and … er …”

Argh. Stop babbling, Becky.

“I’m April,” she says pleasantly.

Like I didn’t know that. Like she’s not really, really famous.

“I’m Becky.”

“You’re the one who ate the cake?”

“It was a mistake,” I say hastily.

“That made me laugh.” She smiles, that amazing smile which I’ve seen in loads of movies. Well, not loads of movies exactly. Two movies and one sitcom and an ad campaign for moisturizer. But still.

“April. Curt. A word with you both?” Ant is heading over this way, and I hurriedly bury my face in April’s skirt so he won’t notice me. Not that he seems to notice any of the extras anyway.

“I want some real violence in this scene,” I hear him saying above my head. “Curt, when you see the insignia of your enemy on Gwennie’s scarf, everything changes. You know she’s in love with Arthur, and it infuriates you. Remember, this scene is the pivot; it’s what drives you to attack the Fleet of Foes; it’s what starts the whole chain of events. OK, guys? Passion. Intensity. Let’s go for a take.”

Despite everything, I can’t help feeling a jolt of excitement. A take! We’re going for a take! It’s happening!

An hour later, I’m feeling a teeny bit less excited. We’ve done the scene over and over, and every time I have to keep my head down while all the action goes on above, and I’m getting achy knees from being in this position.

Plus, the more we do the scene, the less I understand it.

“Are you OK?” April Tremont smiles down from where she’s having her makeup touched up. “Pretty tough down there.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” I say at once. “Fine! Really fab!”

“Enjoying the scene?”

“Er …” I hesitate. I know I should say, Yes, it’s brilliant! But the truth is, I just can’t relate to it.

“I don’t get it,” I say at last. “But you’re really good,” I add quickly.

“Which part don’t you get?” says April, looking interested.

“Well, why are you playing with your scarf?”

“It’s a memento from my lover, Arthur,” explains April. “It has his distinctive insignia on it. See?” She holds the scarf out so I can see.

“I know that.” I nod. “But you’re on Eduardo’s ship. He’s really violent and he hates Arthur. So wouldn’t you keep it hidden? If you really loved Arthur you’d protect him, surely.”

April Tremont stares at me silently for a few moments. “That’s a good point,” she says. “Why am I playing with it?”

“Maybe you’re supposed to be quite stupid?” I suggest.

“No!” says April sharply. “I’m not. Ant!” She raises her voice. “Ant, come over here!”

Oh God. I tuck my face down into her skirt and try to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Ant, I have a problem with my motivation,” says April. “Why does Gwennie get out the scarf?”

I sneak a quick glance upward—and Ant is staring at April as though suspecting a trick question.

“We went through this already,” he says. “It’s sentimental. She’s thinking of her lover.”

“But why get the scarf out now, when it’s so dangerous? She’s on an enemy ship. Why would she be so foolhardy?”

There’s silence for a few moments, then Ant yells, “Dylan! Get over here. Please explain to April the motivation of her character.”

At once Dylan comes hurrying over, his sneakers squeaking on the floor of the soundstage. “Oh OK,” he says, sounding a bit nervous. “Well, Gwennie is thinking of her lover, Arthur. She’s remembering the times they had together. So she gets out the scarf—”

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