call with a jabbing, urgent finger.
‘Who is it?’ I asked, pulling the sheet over me. ‘Is it the call you’ve been waiting for?’
He nodded, then spoke into the receiver.
‘Jim, hi, how’s it going?’
He got out of bed and wandered into the bathroom, leaving me to claw the air with frustrated curiosity.
He had been waiting weeks to find out if he could get funding for his next film project. I have to admit, a part of me was hoping that the answer would be no. There were things about this film that were awkward for me – especially since that stupid newspaper story. But he was set on the idea to the point of saying he’d produce it independently if it came down to it.
Now James Gretsch, one of the three big backers he had been courting, was on the phone. I found myself craving a cigarette and I didn’t even smoke.
He burst in so triumphantly that I didn’t even need to ask what the answer was. Gretsch had taken the bait.
‘Hang on to your bustle, baby,’ he announced. ‘Dunraven and Walters are coming to Tinseltown.’
We were halfway through decorating the tree before he’d be drawn on any details. I had asked every question in my mind and more, but he’d deflected them all, wanting only to savour his moment of bliss until its purity faded and it had to be kept alive by talking it over.
‘So the film is going into pre-production after Christmas,’ he said, handing me a bauble. ‘And we’ll start filming in April.’
‘When you say pre-production,’ I said cautiously, trying not to get prickled by the little pine needles as I tied on the bauble, ‘that includes casting, I guess? After Christmas?’
He sucked a breath in between his teeth.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘well, I need to talk to you about that.’
My chest fizzed uncomfortably. I hadn’t agreed to this. I wasn’t going to be made to agree to this.
‘You didn’t say …’
‘Hush. We did discuss this, didn’t we? When we rehearsed the script. Nobody is more perfect for Walters than you, my love.’
‘But Jasper!’
‘We’ll need to sort out an Equity card for you, that’s all, then nothing will stand in our way.’
‘Yes, it will!’
‘Oh?’
He put down the jewelled robin ornament he’d been toying with and put his head on one side, as if to say, ‘You aren’t going to spoil my fun, are you?’
‘I’m not an actor. And – don’t say what I know you’re going to say because that’s not the crux of it. I’m not an actor and I don’t want to appear on film all over the world doing things that, to me, are private.’
Jasper put down the robin and reached for my hands, which were freely given.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘The thing is, it’s a stipulation of the studio that you and I appear in this film. After that story about us shagging in that Mayfair square the other week, it’s golden pre-publicity. It’s the reason they finally decided to back it.’
‘Oh, God. How about it being a good film by a good director?’
‘Not good enough, I’m afraid.’ Jasper shook his head. ‘My reputation’s high with the critics but I’m not box-office enough for that. I have to make concessions. One of them is that you play Walters.’
My breath was too short for speech for a while.
Eventually I looked him full in the face.
‘I am not,’ I said, slowly and firmly, ‘doing or showing anything on film that I wouldn’t do at the museum. No nudity. No sex acts.’
‘It’s called acting, Sarah. Obviously nobody is going to actually fuck.’
‘No, but the other stuff. You know what I mean. I’m not showing my bare bum to the world.’
‘I think you already did,’ said Jasper, and he was referring to the newspaper scandal.
‘That was extremely blurred and hardly recognisable as a bum,’ I replied. ‘Plus, it wasn’t meant to be public.’
‘OK,’ said Jasper. ‘I talked about this with Jim already.’
‘You did? Why didn’t you say?’
‘I like watching your agitation sometimes. It’s all right. Relax. Christ.’ He put his arms up to deflect a sudden hail of small wooden angels. ‘Sorry, OK?’
‘You’d better be. So what have you and Jim cooked up?’
‘He’s fine with the idea of body doubles for us. So in the kinky scenes, your head and face will be there but the body will belong to another woman. And the same for me, as the man.’
‘Body doubles? So … we won’t actually be doing the naughty stuff on camera?’
‘Oh, we will. But when we get into the editing suite we’ll swap our body parts for somebody else’s. We have to do the scenes, Sarah,’ he added quickly, ‘or the facial expressions and noises won’t be right.’
‘You dub the sound over it anyway,’ I protested.
‘Some of it. Come on. The world will see no more than your face and a bare arm and foot or so. That has to be good enough, right?’
I put down a length of tinsel and sat on the stairs, my chin in my hands.
‘I don’t know. This is too weird for me. It’s a long way out of my comfort zone.’
‘I know. That’s why you’re considering it.’ He winked at me.
I flapped my hands at him.
‘Come on, Sarah. You hate your comfort zone. You’re never there. You’re like the absentee landlord of the place.’
‘That’s not true,’ I countered. ‘Just because I do all sorts of things I’d never have countenanced with anyone else – with you. It’s because of you. You’re my comfort zone, because I trust you.’
‘There.’ His eyes lit; I’d signed myself up. ‘You said it. And you’ll be with me. I’ll direct you. You can take direction, can’t you?’
‘You know I can. It’s just … this isn’t private any more. I’m not sure …’
‘Listen, darling, you don’t have to give me a yes or no answer right this minute.
