Lights, Camera, Action

Lights, Camera, Action

She fell into the pub, her pub. She loved this pub, her second home. But tonight, standing behind the bar, was a new staff member. She hated it when it was someone new, and a scowl immediately appeared on her face. At the best of times, new staff never seemed to know where things were and, much more importantly, often failed to recognise the important customers. But tonight, this was unreservedly the wrong bar staff; they’d hired a woman! Who the hell would employ a female to work behind the bar? Half the reason for coming here was to smile at the handsome barman who might be serving her. Beautiful males always found her attractive and funny, and she would buy one drink after another to continue the dalliance for as long as possible. Female bar staff were useless and counted how many drinks she ordered; she presumed this was because there wasn’t any conversation between them except ‘Another one in there’, indicating her slithery, grimy glass. The barmaid looking disdainfully, would pour another drink until finally saying, ‘I think you’ve had enough, don’t you?’ Bloody cheek, just whom did she think she was? Her job was to serve behind a bar, not pass on her opinions.

She anxiously pushed her long, greasy hair behind her ears and nervously started tapping her long nails on the bar. She could usually do this without offending bar staff - but only if it were the right staff. The new barmaid sauntered over, looking irritated at the tapping. 

It seemed evident that the new barmaid had already taken against her, and having learnt her lesson from previous bar staff who had on occasion asked her to leave, she ordered a few drinks on a tray and moved as far away from the bar as she could. She managed to carry the drinks without dropping or spilling a drop, despite the piercing stare of the barmaid’s eyes as they bore into her back, watching her tottering across the room.  She safely reached one of the dark booths at the back of the bar, and here in the darkness, she could keep herself to herself and stare intently at the bar in case anyone came in whom she fancied.

The pub door swung open, and several new customers walked in and started a convivial conversation with the new barmaid. She could hear laughter and the clinking of glasses. Sitting in her dark booth, her top lip curled with scorn.  

Somehow she’d missed the constant opening of the door because the bar was now full of loud, companionable chatter and laughter. Her dark nook in the back was in danger of being encroached upon as the bar began swarming with happy drinkers.  A couple of smiling girls wandered over and, indicating the opposite seat in the booth, asked if they could sit there. What could she say? She had to say, ‘Yes’ because it was obvious they would sit there anyway. They were very attractive, dressed in dark-coloured trouser suits, almost like a uniform. They had shining, healthy hair and clean teeth and wore a light dusting of beautifully applied makeup. The expressions on their faces exuded two young girls thoroughly enjoying their lives, although slightly overcast with concern. 

One of the girls turned round in her seat and said excitedly,

 ‘Oh great, it's Mike; budge up.’  

‘Mike, Mike, we’re here - come and join us.’

‘Hi Lucy, sorry I was a bit slow getting here.’

Annoyed at the thought of another person sitting in her booth, she raised her eyes and saw a stunningly handsome man. He was cleanly dressed in a white t-shirt displaying his bronzed-toned arms and carrying a dark jacket casually over his left arm. Interest surged through her. 

‘Please, please sit here. Let me look at you’, she thought.

Mike walked over to the booth and, turning to look at her, said:

‘Would you mind if I sat next to you?’

The smell of soap, a gentle cologne, all overlapped with his pheromones, hit her. Would she mind? No, she would not. She squeezed herself into the corner of the seat bunk, indicating plenty of room for him. She almost passed out as he sat down, enveloping her with his masculinity. Wow! This hadn’t happened for years. Most men she saw in the pub showed no desire to sit anywhere near her, and nobody smelt like this man.

Lucy, her friend, and Mike seemed to be excitedly speaking at once, and she initially had difficulties understanding what they were discussing. Added to everything, there was some loud commotion in the pub, which seemed to be caused by a customer giving cause for concern. She had to close her eyes for a few minutes to block out the loud noises. Finally, everything quietened, and she could concentrate on the three strangers who had chosen to sit next to her.

It soon became apparent that they were working on a movie being made in the local area. This struck her as unusual. The local area didn’t seem to be a promising area for movie-making.

As the evening passed and the drinks slowly disappeared, all four fell into deep conversation. She had never realised how funny she could be. The three newcomers became transfixed with her, and before long, she was happily entertaining the group. They loved her. At the end of the evening, she saw the girls chatting to Mike and him nodding enthusiastically.

‘Are you busy? Would you like to join us on the film set? We can introduce you to the actors and Tim, the Director.’

She agreed immediately, and they set off for the film set. She couldn’t figure out how they’d got to the film location as it wasn’t an area she knew. It was a sunny day, not too warm, just perfect. She saw a catering truck near the entrance of the enclosed film set. She hadn’t realised just how hungry she was and almost lost her footing as she began to sway with hunger; saliva started dripping down her chin as she contemplated what she would soon be eating.

’Breakfast?’ said Mike, now wearing the dark jacket with the white T-shirt under it. He looked gorgeous.

‘Breakfast? We must have been in that pub a long time!’ She was shocked. Where had the time gone?

Mike chuckled, leaned towards her, and gave her an affectionate kiss.

‘What do you fancy eating?’

He took her hand as he guided her towards the catering truck. One man was already there, carelessly chatting to the catering staff whilst placing his breakfast order.  

‘Tim, hi. This is our new friend whom the girls and I met last night when we had a drink.’

‘Hi. Hope Mike is looking after you.’

‘They’ve all been great. We seem to have chatted throughout the whole night. The time went by so quickly.’

She looked at Tim and took a deep inward breath. Wasn’t this a famous director frequently on interview shows or giving magazine interviews? Yes, yes, it was him. 

Mike gave her the menu and then stepped back to allow her to order her choice of breakfast. The Catering Staff were friendly, jolly people and happily interacted during the order, while she overwhelmed them with charm and charisma. As she stepped back from the truck to let Mike place his order, she noticed Tim looking intently at her.

‘You have a very interesting voice’, he said. ‘Can you act?’

She giggled. ‘Only school plays - years ago.’

‘Would you be interested in a small speaking part in our movie?’

‘Say yes, go for it’, said Mike smiling encouragingly. 

‘OK, if you think I can do it? ’ she answered doubtfully.

She stopped, slightly confused. How was it that one minute she was in a pub, and the next minute she was standing next to a famous director offering her a part in his movie? All she remembered about the pub was how loud it was and the general excitement of sitting next to Mike. But how had the time moved so quickly? She struggled to grasp that it was now breakfast time. It must have been the drinks, but they couldn’t have drunk too much, and not her; she never drank that much.

‘Off to the make-up truck and wardrobe mistress for you as soon as you’ve had breakfast.’, said Tim.

She couldn’t remember eating her breakfast because she was so nervous, but she must have wolfed it down as she was no longer hungry. 

Mike delivered her to the make-up truck, chatted to the make-up artists, gave them Tim’s instructions, and left her to their ministrations.

They first washed her hair. She had forgotten how dirty her hair had been from the night before.  The shampoos they used were just fabulous; the perfumes were beautiful. The hairdresser cooed over the washed hair, telling how lucky she was to have such a lovely head of hair as he carefully combed it and partly dried it.

The make-up artists looked at their instruction sheets and, from there, produced trays and trays of various brands of make-up in multiple colours and placed them on the counter in front of her. She was comfortably laid back in the chair and was first massaged with moisturisers before they began applying the makeup and building the face required for the movie part. She could feel the makeup soaking into her face; by the time they had finished, makeup covered her face, eyes, and throat. The hairdresser returned and finished styling her hair so that soon her reflection bore little resemblance to the woman who had gone into the pub last night.

By the time the Wardrobe Mistress had completed dressing her, she was wearing a dark navy blue taffeta afternoon cocktail dress with an attractive boat neck and three-quarter-length tight sleeves. The dress, nipped at the waist with a full skirt stopping at the knees, looked strikingly similar to a 1950’s haute couture dress worn by a famous Duchess in a documentary she’d seen not that long ago.  Her feet, now covered in soft silk stockings, were pushed into dark navy suede shoes with 3” stiletto heels, and the Wardrobe Mistress giving her one last approving look, announced she was ready for the studio.  

Walking on the paved area outside of the trucks, accompanied by the pleasant click of her heels, she was joined by Lucy slowly trotting beside her. As they continued to move along the pavement, Lucy seemed to be trying to explain something to her.  

She soon realised that Lucy must be explaining the scene she was about to appear in and was going over her lines with her. Those years in the school plays undoubtedly benefited her, as she seemed to have no difficulties with her lines. It struck her that Lucy’s concerned look was just Lucy being afraid she’d forget her lines. She searched for Lucy’s hand and squeezed it, knowing this would build up Lucy’s trust in her acting skills. 

‘Aarrrhhh’, screamed Lucy whilst she fought to release her hand.

Not remotely concerned with Lucy’s screaming, she concentrated on herself, which was slightly difficult as there was a further loud commotion somewhere - god knows where - about someone’s hand.

Gosh, she felt beautiful! Her hair shone and fell into the chosen style perfectly. She knew her makeup was stunning as all the staff associated with the studio stared approvingly at her as she passed by, her beautiful high-heeled court shoes clicking as she walked, accompanied by the swishing of the taffeta dress. No wonder people were looking at her; she looked fabulous. Where the hell was Mike?

The door of the film studio opened, and she peered into the dark interior, looking past all the technical equipment towards the lit and dressed sound stage.  

She became aware of someone roughly shaking her shoulder. She was amazed that anyone would touch her that way. Wasn’t it obvious she was dressed and ready for her debut in a movie? Touching her that way was sure to crease or dirty her beautiful, expensive dress.

Another rough shake.  

‘Oi you, drunk lady, wake up.’

These weren’t her lines.

More shaking. ‘Oi’.

She opened her bloodshot eyes into tiny slits. The pub was flooded with bright lights, making her eyes hurt like hell. She looked around, confused. Where was the studio? She looked at her dirty trainers. Where the hell were those stunning navy blue stilettos?

‘You need to drink less, lady’, said that new barmaid unpleasantly.

Two young girls sitting opposite her were beckoning to a young man. 

‘Is there a problem?’ said the handsome young man.

‘Yep, the drunk lady fell asleep in the back booth, and she’s not sleeping there all night - we need it for customers', snarled the barmaid.

‘OK, let me deal with her. You go back to the bar, and I’ll sort things out.’

‘Hi, my name is Mike. Let’s see what I can do to help you. Have you eaten? Do you live far?’ 

‘Are we filming’? she murmured. He didn’t look quite the same, but he smelt the same.  

‘No,’ he said, laughing. ‘We’re not filming anything. Did you think we were?’

‘Yes’, she slurred, ‘I thought I’d met you on a film set.’

‘No, I’m in the Salvation Army, and I’m here to make sure you get home safely and get some hot food.  You met my two companions earlier’, he pointed to the two smiling, concerned girls. 

‘Hi. We’ve been sitting next to you trying to wake you up’, said Lucy, still nursing her hand.

‘Are you able to walk? Can you stand?’ Mike extended his hand towards her. My how she longed to grasp it.

She scooted along the bench towards the handsome man, tossed her shining, thick, luxurious hair, gathered her beautiful navy blue taffeta dress around her, and slid her blue stiletto shoes to the floor. 

As he guided her carefully towards the sound set, she noticed all the staff associated with the film were drinking. They all stared at her whilst she and Mike made their way towards the set. She became aware of a breeze. Mike gently took hold of her elbow and guided her through an open door at the back of the stage set. As they emerged through the door, she saw a waiting ambulance. Mike transferred her to the care of the two paramedics and explained that Lucy would travel with her so that she could get her hand attended to.  

‘See what personal details you can get from her, Lucy, y’know name, address, family, anything’, he said to Lucy.

 The paramedics shouted to Mike: 

‘It’s all right, mate; it’s the actress; we know each other well. She’s one of our regular pickups. She thinks she’s Marilyn Monroe.’ 

As the paramedics helped her into the chauffeur-driven Cadillac, Lucy, her Assistant, sat next to her. She turned, gave Mike her most sexy smile and began waving as the ambulance doors closed.