Chapter 9
The next couple of weeks pass in a blur.
We’ve filmed all of the opening scenes of the film now and I’m really starting to find my feet.
I’ve nailed my breakfast order – a croissant and a flat white – and have managed to talk the runner down from sourcing it from a French bakery, convincing him that Pret was fine.
Alison has been texting me trying to convince me to come out with her friends – because they want to quiz me about what it’s like to be in a movie – but I’ve been able to fob her off with a promise that I’ll meet her friends at her birthday party in a few weeks.
And I’ve been in touch with Spencer and Hannah too – the new flatmate is driving them insane, apparently.
He keeps shutting himself in his room and blasting electropop music.
And he doesn’t really speak English, but likes to resort to yelling when they try to have conversations with him.
Hannah has jokingly begged me to come back, a few times.
And I’ve been updating them on what it’s like to be on-set, sending requested selfies from my trailer.
Photos of the spread at craft services, which they were both absolutely stunned by.
(I was too, honestly – there’s enough food there that I could probably survive on one table’s worth for weeks, if the apocalypse happened and set was shut down.) Nat calls for check-ins every couple of days and there’s little to report except that things are actually going well, which is a huge relief.
I’m receiving praise from Alessandro most days and only some notes, which are manageable.
And Avi starts to blur into Jackson. As if – if I think about him as his character, rather than who he is, even when we’re not filming – I can get through this.
And I feel myself slipping into Amelia more easily every day.
Like she’s a familiar, favourite pair of shoes. It’s a great feeling.
Sienna comes by my trailer every so often.
I’m still not over having one of the most famous women in the world stop by for a chat, but she’s mainly just giving me tips on the latest crystals she’s keeping in her trailer to ward off negative energies.
Or telling me about a new form of Pilates she’s trying.
Sienna and Avi’s relationship is still a little strange to me.
I know it’s none of my business, but they don’t seem to spend that much time together on-set.
And when they are together, the most I ever see them do is kiss each other on the cheek.
Maybe that’s just what Hollywood relationships are like, I think – you probably don’t want to be too affectionate in front of other people, to protect yourself from unwanted attention.
Every evening, after Avi and I have run our lines, I go back to my hotel room for room service and he goes out with Sienna – and we’re not each other’s concern any more.
It’s good. It might even be great. I haven’t worried too much about Sienna being my understudy, though the thought does flicker frighteningly into my mind sometimes if I have a brief falter on-set.
But, on the whole, I feel like I’m finding my feet.
Settling in. And I’m definitely not thinking about the fact that the further we get through the film, the closer we get to shooting our romantic scenes together.
So far, Amelia and Jackson have been so focused on their investigation that their scenes are charged with a different type of energy. But we’re approaching the halfway point and in about a week’s time we’ll start to see a shift in their relationship. Then there’s the kiss.
And I have literally no idea how I’m going to feel about that.
The first day of our third week, I arrive at our first off-set filming location: the Maughan Library at King’s College London near Blackfriars.
When I arrive, I do a double take. This set-up is compact – they’ve closed the street down and fenced it off at each end, runners stationed with radios to let pedestrians through between scenes.
There are a few tents, for sound and lighting equipment.
Our trailers are still across town, on the regular set.
And as opposed to the fifty to a hundred people who are usually milling around, for today there are only about twenty.
It feels intimate, and exhilarating. To be out in the open, filming like this.
I’m reminded of when I walked across a set of a hospital drama once, as they were filming a car crash scene.
I was ushered by a runner because I was passing through on my usual route to the paper company.
Craning my neck as I passed, in awe of it.
So to watch people doing it now, and be on the other side of it, is insane.
The building is also breathtakingly beautiful, like a giant cathedral, all arched windows and spires.
There’s a horse-drawn carriage in front of me and several supporting actors milling around dressed in full costume.
I feel, for an instant, as if I have truly stepped back in time.
Amelia and Jackson are there to investigate, looking at old records of satanic cults in the city.
The police believe that the murder they’re investigating was a suicide – that the woman was interested in witchcraft, and her connection to the devil overwhelmed her and caused her to take her own life.
But Amelia recognised that the markings were not drawn by her own hand.
According to the victim’s relative, she was left-handed.
So once she’s managed to persuade Jackson that the case might involve some of his friends, they head to the library.
After filming some dialogue outside, we head inside the building.
Which is almost as stunning as the outside: a great rotunda filled floor-to-ceiling with books, rising up to a glass dome ceiling.
Jackson and Amelia rifle through some of the books, poring over archives.
Once we’ve taped the B-roll of us examining the records, Alessandro gives us the signal to move to our marks for the next scene, one of my favourites.
The dialogue is sharp and full of life. Setting up Amelia and Jackson’s chemistry with one another.
The central tension of his initial scepticism about her theories conflicting with his feelings for her, his desire to trust her instincts.
Avi and I exchange a glance to check we’re both ready. A nod, to show we are.
‘Action!’ Alessandro calls, and I step forwards to deliver my line.
‘Don’t be an idiot, Jackson,’ I say. They have found records of a cult run out of Jackson’s own club, members tracing back years. Though the records stopped ten years previously – a fact that Jackson has latched on to.
‘I’m just trying to be rational, Amelia,’ he says. ‘There could be other explanations.’
‘Yes, well – maybe if you weren’t so invested in ignoring the flaws of everyone around you in pursuit of being liked by them, you might actually be able to see the truth.’
‘That’s not fair,’ he says. ‘And besides, we don’t know if it’s the truth. You’re jumping to conclusions straight off the bat.’
‘And when,’ I say, stepping closer, ‘have I ever been wrong?’
Avi looks down. ‘Rarely,’ he admits. ‘But you have to understand, Amelia – if you’re right, these men are serious. You don’t want to mess with them.’
‘If it’s in the pursuit of justice,’ I say, ‘I don’t care.’
‘I just don’t want you to get too caught up in all this,’ he says. ‘I could never forgive myself, if something happened to you…’
And he reaches out, his hand brushing mine.
As he does, a thrill rushes across my skin that has my pulse surging. I look up at him, my throat tightening.
Fuck.
I stand for a second, choking. Desperately searching for my line.
Seeing Alessandro in my periphery, tensing up, ready to call ‘Cut!’ But before he can, before I can either jerk myself back into the scene or be overcome by panic, there’s a creaking sound from somewhere overhead.
The light fitting they had rushed to set up earlier, because we were behind schedule.
I look up, my heart pounding, to see it above me, swinging dangerously in its bracket.
People around me start to move, to panic. And just before I realise it’s going to fall, I am forced to the ground.
I hear shards of glass clinking around us as my senses come back one at a time.
Alessandro’s voice, shouting in the distance. The sounds of blind panic, from several members of the crew. Footsteps rushing towards us.
Blinking my eyes open, I see carpet in front of me. A few small shards glittering.
And I feel someone’s body on top of mine.
‘Lara?’ Avi’s voice asks. His weight shifts off me, and I feel him lift me to my feet. ‘Are you okay?’
What the fuck just happened?
‘Please tell me you are still alive and in possession of all your limbs,’ Nat says on the phone, once I’m safely back in my trailer having had a once-over by a medic and been rushed back to set while the crew deal with the fallout.
I still haven’t processed what happened – my breath catching at the memory of Avi’s body covering mine. The shattered glass all around me.
‘I am fine,’ I reply. ‘I promise.’ But it does nothing to put out the fire of Nat’s rage.