Chapter Thirteen
Ethan paced the beach, his script sides rolled up in his fist. He had to focus on the next shot – it was a big one – but his mind kept going back to the morning and his embarrassing display of whatever the hell that was.
There’s nothing between Ronnie and me, Hazel. Just co-stars. We’re not fucking. In case you care.Like she’d care. Friends, friends, friends. They were just friends. It wasn’t as if he’d wanted anything more than that, right? He’d just wanted her to not hate him. Mission accomplished.
‘Ethan, you’re getting sweaty,’ Ava said, jogging to stay beside him, make-up brush in hand. She pressed a palm to his chest to stop him moving.
‘Sorry, Ava. Working through the scene. I do my best thinking on the move.’ He slid his legs out to each side, wiggling down like a giraffe drinking water, so that he was face-to-face with her. His eyes closed as she dabbed his brow. He’d be fine. Once he and Hazel got into a groove he’d be back to his normal, cool-as-a-cucumber self.
‘We’re about ready, people,’ Petra, the first assistant director, called out.
Ethan trudged along the sand to where Jem and their cinematographer, Reed, were discussing the shot. He waved at Ronnie, who was on her mark a hundred metres away.
‘Okay, Ethan,’ Jem said. ‘We’ll get you sitting. Zoe will be sitting beside you. The two other dogs will run in from your right. They’ll jump on you, and you’ll lie back laughing. Ronnie will come into shot and say her line. We’ll get the wide first, then we’ll reset for your coverage.’
Ethan nodded. ‘Let’s get it done in as few takes as possible. It’s hot. We need to get everyone out of the sun.’ The less time with two dogs on him the better.
He dropped onto the beach as people buzzed around him.
‘Here’s Zoe.’ The dog’s trainer sat Zoe beside Ethan.
Ethan reminded himself not to tense. ‘Thanks, Stan.’
‘I rehearsed with the other two all day yesterday,’ Stan said. ‘Bo and Cleo have got it down. But if they get too much, just holler.’ He slapped Ethan reassuringly on the back. Ethan smiled up at the man, then gave Zoe a scratch.
This was the first day with all three dogs on set and he was shitting himself. He needed to find that one hundred per cent focus he’d been promising Jem he had. Not the fifty per cent on Hazel, fifty per cent on the job focus he’d been bringing since Hazel walked through the cafe door. Actually, it was probably more like sixty-forty. Maybe seventy-thirty.
Fuck, James, concentrate.
He was going to have to sit there while two dogs charged down the beach, jumped on him and laid him out flat. Zoe had been trained to stand up and bark. The whole thing was his worst nightmare. He absent-mindedly touched the faint scar on the back of his arm, a remnant of the last time two dogs jumped him. His eleven-year-old self was rearing up inside, ready to bolt. It took everything he had to keep his arse on the sand.
‘They’re trained for this,’ he whispered to himself.
‘Ready, Ethan?’ Petra asked.
‘Yup,’ he said, his jaw tightening. How the hell was he going to laugh when those dogs landed on him?
You’re an actor. Fucking act.
‘Stand by. Background,’ he heard from behind him. The extras in the scene began to move. Then, ‘Camera ready?’ followed by the answer, ‘Ready.’ He braced himself.
‘Action.’
There was a flash at the corner of his eye as the dogs raced along the beach. Then they were on top of him, and his arms automatically covered his face as he shrank back, trying to put some distance between him and the dogs.
‘Cut!’ Jem called. ‘Ethan, are you okay?’
Ethan pushed himself up as the trainers wrangled the dogs back into position. He looked over his shoulder at Jem. ‘Yeah, sorry. Automatic. Let’s go again.’ He gave her a smile and two thumbs up.
‘Going again,’ the first AD yelled.
Hair and wardrobe stepped in and tidied Ethan up. He breathed slowly as he listened to the on-set calls. Stand by. Background. Camera ready. Ready.
‘Action!’
Dogs. Sand. Barking. Fuck. He was on his back with his hands wrapped around his head again.
‘Cut!’
Ethan sat back up and Jem came and squatted beside him. ‘Sorry, Jem,’ he said. ‘It’s the sand, they’re kicking it up in my eyes.’
‘Okay. How about you wear sunglasses to protect your eyes? You can push them back when you look up at Ronnie. Will that work?’
Nope.‘Great idea. Let’s try that.’
Make-up and hair tidied him up again. Wardrobe handed him a pair of sunglasses. Then came the checks. Stand by. Background. Camera ready. Ready. Action.
This time when the dogs landed on him Ethan kept his hands by his sides, dropped back onto the sand and somehow managed to laugh as scripted. His eyes were closed behind the sunglasses, so he couldn’t see the dogs in his face. He heard Ronnie above him say her line: ‘Sorry, are you okay?’ Then there was the growl. Ethan heard the sound of jaws snapping, then barking and the trainers yelling ‘Zoe! Bo!’ as the two dogs got into it.
Ronnie squealed, Jem shouted cut, and then Ethan was up, walking away as fast as he could. He could barely breathe. His head was light, his legs as unstable as the soft sand beneath his feet. He stopped for a moment, bent over, hands on his thighs as he gulped for air. Then he was up and walking again, as extras stared and moved out of his way. He stopped at the top of the beach and rested against the stone wall, struggling to breathe as he raked his trembling hands through his hair.
‘Ethan!’
He looked up to see Jem and Katherine walking quickly towards him. He put up a palm for them to stop.
‘Give me a sec,’ he called out.
He pulled off the sunglasses and rubbed his eyes, then put them back on and looked up to see Katherine advancing.
Fuck. Fuck.
She sat beside him. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked. She was touching his arms, checking his chest and his neck. ‘Did you get bitten?’
He shook his head.
‘Okay. Good.’ She breathed out a deep exhale. ‘The trainers have taken the dogs away to calm down. They’re going to give them a run and try to get some of that energy out. Then we’ll give it another go. We’re going to take a thirty-minute break.’ She handed him a bottle of water and he cracked open the lid and guzzled half its contents.
‘Can we check camera to see if there’s anything usable?’ he asked. ‘Because…’ He took another mouthful of water. ‘I’m not doing that again.’
‘The trainers have guaranteed it won’t—’
‘I’m not doing it, Katherine. I’m sorry to be that guy, but I’m not having two dogs who can’t be controlled on me like that again. It’s dangerous. Use my double. A stunt actor. Rewrite the scene. Have me standing. I don’t know. But I’m not doing that again.’
‘Ethan, the trainer—’
He stood abruptly. ‘I could have been bitten, Kath. Please ask Jem to rework the scene.’
Ethan stalked off towards the car park and the safety of his trailer, the tips of his fingers tingling. His phone rang the minute he stepped through the trailer door.
‘I just got a call from a pissed-off Katherine,’ Lena said. ‘You’re asking for rewrites?’
‘Did she tell you why, Lena? The fucking dogs went for each other when they were on top of me.’ His breath shook. ‘They were on me, Lena. On me. Fighting.’
Lena was silent for a moment. ‘Okay Ethan, okay,’ she said gently. ‘Did you get hurt?’
He dropped onto the couch, tossing the sunglasses aside. Spots were popping in front of his eyes and his chest was tight. He was about ten seconds from a full-on panic attack. He closed his eyes and slowly breathed in and out through his nose.
‘I didn’t get hurt. But that’s not really the point, is it?’ Lena knew everything about his past and the dog attack when he was a kid. She’d watched him deal with the fear that had plagued him ever since.
‘No,’ she said, ‘it’s not the point. But you’re okay?’
‘I suppose. Except for the bad fucking memories that got dredged up.’ He rubbed a hand across his forehead.
‘I thought you were over your dog thing,’ she said.
‘I’ll never be over it, Lena. You’ve seen the scars. I might be able to deal with it, but I’ll never truly be over it.’ His shoulders slumped. ‘Have I fucked everything up? Will I be labelled as difficult now? What if this gets back to the studio?’ The last thing he needed right now was a blemish on his professional reputation.
‘Stop worrying, I’ll manage it.’ Lena sighed heavily. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll go over the script tonight and flag anything I think might cause you a problem, and we’ll talk it through. I can then ask for a rework of those scenes for your personal safety, saying that if you had been bitten during the last scene, production would be shut down, which would mean delays and insurance payouts. No one wants that. If they need the scene to stay as is, they can get in a stunt actor for those shots. For today’s shot—’
‘I’m going to suggest I do it standing,’ he said. ‘It’ll still be a good meet-cute. In fact, it’ll be better, because I won’t look constipated.’
‘I’ll call Katherine now to make sure that’s what’s happening, and I’m going to fly up there first thing tomorrow.’
‘You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.’
‘Yes I do. I want them to see how serious I am.’
He chuckled. ‘Scare the fuck out of them, you mean?’
Ethan came back on set to find Jem and Katherine in the video village huddled around a screen, looking at the footage from the scrapped shot. When he cleared his throat, they slowly turned, their brows both furrowed. His eyes darted between theirs. They knew – at least, they knew whatever had freaked him out had nothing to do with flying sand.
He pushed his shoulders back, stretching out to his full height.
‘I’m not doing the scene seated,’ he said. ‘If anything happens to me, everyone’s job is in jeopardy and I won’t risk that. But here’s what I’m thinking. I’ll do it standing. Me and Zoe can be checking the surf. The other two dogs come charging down the beach and jump up at me, but don’t flatten me. I’ll stumble backwards but won’t fall. Ronnie runs in and grabs their leashes and hauls them off. She does her line. Meet-cute.’
‘Will you be okay with them jumping up at you?’ Jem asked. The pity in her eyes made Ethan’s skin crawl.
‘Fine with it. But let’s be honest here. I know why the studio cast me, and it wasn’t for my stellar acting.’ He pointed to his face with a deprecating smile. ‘This is all anyone ever really wants. So maybe no more fighting dogs near their money maker, okay?’