be a new bottle, same wine but at least it’s so cold you can’t taste it! What were you saying?”
“That the competition is tough. Who do you think is going to win?”
“Well my angel, I know who desperately wants to win.” Lavinia smirked and nodded to where eighteen year old model and aspiring actress, Casey, was batting her enormous false eyelashes at Harri. Someone had tacked up a bedraggled sprig of mistletoe as an early nod to Christmas and Casey had half an eye on it.
The poor man was trapped. He was visibly backing off from the torrent of giggles and nonsense that passed as conversation from the girl.
“Met her type before,” Lavinia sniffed. “God, I think I was her once a long time ago. All hair and short skirts and dangerous ambition. When you’re older you learn how to hide it better.”
“What, stupidity?” Julia said, without thinking.
Lavinia snorted. “She’s not stupid, she’ll go far. No, you learn how to play the game with a little more finesse, a little more decorum.” Lavinia’s eyebrows rose. “Look at the length of that skirt!”
Julia laughed again, Lavinia was always good company. “I’d wear skirts like that if I had the legs.”
“Keep training as we’ve been doing and you will, darling. Have you ever met a chubby dancer?”
Julia tried not to bridle at the inference that she was fat, she’d lost a stone and a half already. She’d been consoling herself with the thought that if this TV show didn’t revive her flagging acting career, at least she’d have a fit and toned body at the end of it.
Lavinia eyed her closely. “I know why Casey’s doing it,” she said, as they watched the girl run her fingers up an alarmed Harri’s arm, “but why did you get involved in this farce, angel? I thought you were legit theatre?”
Julia shrugged. “I am, when I can get it. In between the funding crisis and all these big name American TV stars coming over and getting the plum roles, I seem to have hit a dry spot.”
“It was ever thus.” Lavinia gave a theatrical sigh. “Are you hoping it’ll get your face known on the box, darling?”
Julia nodded. “And it raises money for a good cause.”
“Ah yes, the charity.” Lavinia smiled. “Never harms one’s profile to be seen doing something good for charity.”
Julia was silent for a moment. Lavinia had misunderstood her but she let it go. It hadn’t quite been what she’d meant. She needed some publicity, it was true, but didn’t want to support the charity simply in a cynical bid to get it. She really believed in the cause.
They all forgot why they were really here sometimes. The children’s charity, Pennies for Pencils, raised money and awareness for a range of education projects, in the UK and abroad. This was really why they were all still in the studio, after a long day’s rehearsal, supposedly mingling and getting to know one another better.
Lavinia trilled goodbye, wandered off and left the younger woman alone. Julia watched the crowd. She enjoyed people watching; she loved to see how people moved, how they related to one another.
The show was only a week old, they’d done the pre-practice rehearsals and were about to film the first programme before a live studio audience.
On the eve of filming, the producers had brought everyone together tonight as an icebreaker. Lavinia was now talking to Daniel Cunningham, Casey’s stunning professional dance partner and Ted, another actor, and a recent refugee from Eastenders. He was a nice man thought Julia and he deserved to do well. But, as everyone knew, nice didn’t count for much in the acting business.
Julia watched as Casey, having given up on Harri, was flirting with Callum instead. In contrast to the younger man, he seemed to be taking Casey in his stride. One large hand was fondling her naked back. As she was wearing a criminally low halter-top, access to naked flesh was made easy. Casey never seemed to wear many clothes and Callum’s hairy hand was inching its way to her barely concealed bottom. He was edging her nearer the mistletoe and she didn’t look at all unhappy to be led. The girl had better watch out, thought Julia. Rumour had it that Callum was unhappily married and on the lookout. Julia had already fended off his inebriated advances earlier in the evening.
Harri looked across at Julia and caught her eye. He smiled in his friendly way and made his way over to her. “Thought I’d leave them to it,” he grinned.
“Um, yes, they certainly seem to be getting on well.” Julia averted her eyes as Callum’s hand found its target and squeezed.
She turned back to Harri. He’d been dwarfed by Callum, but away from the rugby player’s bulk, she could see he was actually quite tall in his own right.
Julia had never seen Red Pepper but her twelve-year-old niece was crazy about it and mainly because of this man. She could see the attraction. He’d been blessed with the unthreatening good looks of the boy next door, a warm smile, and dark hair, fashionably gelled up at the front.
Looking closer though, Julia saw the broken nose of a sportsman and high cheekbones, which any actor would happily die for. He had beautifully shaped expressive eyebrows too.
On the surface he appeared to be Harri Morgan, TV presenter with a reputation for being a daredevil, a laugh a minute and game for anything. Underneath, Julia thought she sensed a reserved, rather shy man. He had something more complicated in his soul and she was intrigued.
At the moment, however, it seemed Harri’s thoughts were centred on the simple things in life. “God, this wine’s terrible!” He looked around him longingly. “What I wouldn’t do for a pint.”
“I know what you mean.” She laughed up at him and was mesmerised for a second by the intensity in his warm dark eyes.
The moment was interrupted by Bob Dandry, the executive producer and director of the show, tapping his glass.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming and welcome to the wonderful world of Who Dares Dances. I know you’re going to have a truly marvellous time tonight getting to know your fellow competitors but just before the food is served I’d like to say a few words.”
Julia groaned and Harri leaned closer. “I know, anyone who says a few words usually means the exact opposite. Do you think we can escape? I know a good pub just over the road.”
Julia giggled and shushed him and turned to listen. Bob droned on about it being a fantastic show that drew in an audience of over two million and had raised, in its three year run, nearly five million pounds. There was applause at this point and Bob put out his hands in a gesture of mock humility. “No, no please. We do all we can for Pennies for Pencils. I’m sure you’ll agree it’s a worthy cause.” He smoothed a strand of ginger hair over his bald spot and smiled greasily.
“Not to mention that it boosts one or two careers,” Harri whispered in her ear, his Welsh accent smooth and seductive. She stifled another giggle and elbowed him in the ribs.
“Ow!” He rubbed the offended part in pretend outrage and a few heads turned their way with interest. Anything was better than Bob’s speech.
But
