Chapter 14
Finn
That morning, he had one ridiculously mild telling off from Emma, their producer, who very gently said that it was important to respect the locations they visited to film at and follow the rules put in place.
‘No matter how enthusiastic you are about antique beds,’ Emma had concluded.
Finn, who had a mouthful of coffee at the time, nearly spat it out.
He had forgotten that he now needed to maintain his stance as an enthusiast of four-posters everywhere.
He wondered just how many people now knew about him and Violet being stuck in the room and believed that it was his mania for embroidered sleep canopies that had started it all.
Emma headed for the door, softening the reason for her visit by telling Finn that the dailies looked amazing and everyone was very excited.
As the door closed, Finn grabbed his phone and tapped out a text message. Emma just told me that I mustn’t let my interest in antique beds lead me into trouble.
Moments later, the two little ticks lit up blue.
A laughing emoji popped up, followed by, I’m sure you can find something else to lead you into trouble.
His fingers hovered over the keypad as he pondered a response when another message popped up.
Thanks again for covering for me. I really appreciate it.
Finn was re-reading the message for a third time when the three little dots appeared to indicate Violet was typing, then a little X appeared on the screen on its own.
Finn stared at it. His chest expanded a little, and his fingers gripped his phone.
You’re welcome, he typed quickly. He paused for a split second, then added, X.
It was nothing, he told himself. He sent text kisses to lots of people.
Most of his friends were in theatre or entertainment; finishing off a text message with a little kiss was as common and ordinary as vinegar on chips.
So why did it feel different with Violet?
Sure, they hadn’t done it before, but lots of new friendships start off a little more formal and graduate to adding a kiss to a message, or an xoxo.
Is that what they were now? Friends? He tossed his phone down and flexed his hands. If they were friends, why did he hesitate to add that kiss? And why did the thought of them being friends feel faintly irritating?
There was a knock at the trailer door, and Chloe appeared to let him know they were ready for him on set. He grabbed his script and followed her over to the studios.
Another day without seeing Violet long enough to speak to her.
She was only at base when it was busy enough that Chloe needed the extra help.
In the past week, he had glimpsed her from a distance across the floor, taking down instructions, talking into her radio, chatting to Ethan and Leanne.
She was more confident now. She was standing straighter and striding about with purpose.
Like the Violet he knew from college—self-assured and authoritative.
He sometimes saw her briefly, when she popped into the green room to hand out sides, offer drinks or take lunch orders, but there were always other cast there.
She exchanged pleasantries with them all, smiling and chatting, and she didn’t speak to him any differently or for any longer than to anyone else.
Last night, he had found himself examining the schedule, wondering when there would be a larger number of cast in, and Violet might be at base again.
Chloe left him in the green room, and he could hear the spike in volume and activity that often preceded the start of the shoot, as crew rushed to get everything ready in the final minutes.
He had only just sat down when there was a rustle of the easy-up fabric being pulled back, and Violet was there in front of him.
‘Hi,’ she said, with a quick smile.
Finn got hurriedly to his feet. ‘Hello. Hi. How are you?’
‘I’m fine.’ She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Don’t know. You just seem…’ she peered at him. ‘Very energetic.’
‘Well, busy day ahead of…pretending to be a farmer. Takes a lot of energy.’
Violet eyed him with her head to one side, but she didn’t say anything.
‘Okaaayyy. Well, just a reminder that after lunch, you’re done with shooting for the day, but you have a fitting in costume. Rachael asked me to walk you over. Kathy will bring your clothes here so you can change in the quick-change tent before we go.’
‘Sounds great!’ Finn said loudly, clapping his hands together.
Violet’s brows knitted together at this enthusiastic response to a costume fitting.
‘Okay…I’ll see you later on then,’ she said, backing out of the easy-up like she was afraid to turn her back on him.
The morning was spent filming scenes with Jennifer, Mark and the rest of the cast who made up the Crake family.
In the scene, Beatrice had called round in the hopes of being able to see Nathanial alone, only to find the entire family present.
The family were sitting through an awkward tea, with the well-dressed daughter of their landlord, and Beatrice and Nathanial trying not to get caught throwing longing glances at one another.
At one point, little Riley, who played four-year-old Euphemia, fidgeted so much from boredom that she slid off her chair mid-take.
They started from the top, repositioning Riley on the lap of the actress who played her mother.
Only half an hour over schedule, Finn was done on set for the day.
Violet was standing outside the costume easy-up waiting for him when he had changed. She had the faraway gaze she took on when she was listening to the radio. He didn’t interrupt as he approached, just waited. After a moment, she said, ‘Copy that.’ Glancing up at him, she added, ‘I have Finn.’
I have Finn.
It was a phrase he heard multiple times a day, week in, week out, from various people on the AD team. Somehow, today, it felt different when Violet said it. He shook his head, dislodging the thought.
‘You okay?’ Violet asked, as they turned towards the stage exit, moving carefully in the semi-darkness, side-stepping huge power cables that snaked around the walls and trolleys laden with camera batteries and lenses.
‘Yeah. Why?’
‘Nothing.’
She shrugged as the gleam of the green fire exit sign appeared overhead, and she shouldered the heavy door open.
On the stages, one lost all track of time.
It didn’t matter that there were phones and screens and giant clocks marking out the minutes and hours.
In the darkness and quiet of the stages, there was no sense of day or night or weather or a wider world beyond the make-believe one they inhabited.
As Violet opened the exterior door, a stream of bright, balmy March sunshine lit them up.
She raised an arm, shielding her eyes from the brightness.
As Finn’s dark eyes quickly adjusted to the light, he could see that Violet’s hair was suddenly multiple shades of honey, sand and the palest champagne as the spring sun shot through the waves and twists.
‘So, is Nathanial getting a whole new look?’ Violet asked, as they set out along the pedestrian pathway from the stages to the main studio block, where production and the costume department were housed.
She was stretching out to keep up with him.
‘I thought you had your farmer look and a Sunday best outfit, and that was it.’
Finn moderated his pace, slowing slightly. ‘It seems that after the farm has a particularly good year, several members of the family get new clothes. Nathanial gets a new suit.’
‘Oh. Is this when everyone thinks the farm did well, but Beatrice was the one who bought everything above value at the market? And Nathanial doesn’t even know at first?’
‘Yep, that bit.’
‘And then he finds out and burns the suit and tells her he doesn’t need charity?’
‘Pretty much.’
Violet nodded. ‘Bit of an overreaction.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘Burning a suit? When he only has two other sets of clothes to his name? Yes, an emotional overreaction, I would say.’
‘Um, I think his pride was wounded. He thought he had achieved it all on his own, with hard work. Finding out she was behind it was, well, it was a lie, wasn’t it? He felt like a fool.’
Finn stepped past her as they reached the entrance to the building and pulled open the door, stepping back to let Violet enter.
‘Men are so emotional.’ Violet sighed, heading for the staircase. ‘You could have just talked it out.’
‘It was a betrayal!’ Finn exclaimed as they started to climb. ‘Are you saying you think what Beatrice did was right? Deceiving Nathanial?’
‘I’m saying it may have been misguided, so he should look to her true intentions, which were to help him and his family. This was the only way she could do it!’
‘Vi, you have to remember, this was the 1850s, it was a—’
‘I know it’s the 1850s, and that’s why she had to do it that way, but do you have to—’
As they stepped off the stairs to the first floor, where the costume department was, still arguing, the double doors from the corridor opened.
A woman in flamboyant paisley print trousers and a cerise blouse, a red jacket draped over her shoulders, stepped through.
Marching and arguing, Finn and Violet nearly crashed into her.
‘Oh god, sorry!’ Finn said, stopping abruptly right in front of the woman. Violet, a half step behind him, cannoned into his shoulder.
‘Well, hello!’
The woman held out a pale, slender hand tipped with long red nails and weighed down with some impressively large gems.
Finn took the offered hand. She was so familiar, but he couldn’t immediately place her. The woman took his hand in the tips of her fingers and squeezed so gently he could barely feel the pressure.
‘You must be Nathanial,’ she cooed. ‘Our handsome hero.’
‘Uh, yes. I’m Finn.’
‘Finn,’ she breathed. ‘I’m Cynthia. I’m playing Edith, the widow who hopes to marry Beatrice’s father.’
‘Cynthia!’ The penny dropped at the same time as Cynthia dropped his hand after barely shaking it.
Cynthia Bulbowen was a theatre legend and well-known for playing character roles on TV, as well as her frank and fruity late-night talk show appearances.
She was on her way to becoming a living legend, alongside performers like Judy Dench, Julie Walters and Myriam Margolies.
Casting Cynthia in Huxton Bridge was both genius casting and a real coup.
As Finn stared at this new co-star, Cynthia peered around him.
‘Oh, Violet!’ she exclaimed. ‘How lovely to see you.’
Violet looked like a deer frozen in headlights. Her mouth hung slackly open. She didn’t move even as Cynthia stepped forward, clasped her by the shoulders, and air kissed her on both cheeks.
‘My dear, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ Cynthia said with a laugh.
Finn watched as Violet swallowed and muttered, ‘Hi, Cynthia.’
It wasn’t a warm greeting.
‘So this is where you’ve got to!’
Cynthia adjusted her red jacket over her shoulders.
‘Yes, this is where,’ Violet said in low, measured tones.
‘Well, how funny it will be for us to work together on this!’ Cynthia said.
‘Yes. Funny,’ Violet parroted.
Finn was at a loss for what was happening but felt like he had front row seats to some intimate, newly-released show, so he didn’t dare say a word for fear of interrupting.
Violet seemed almost rude, which—apart from when dealing with him—was unlike her.
Even if Cynthia had been a harridan to work with on some show or other, he knew Violet’s professionalism would likely raise her above any such issues.
‘Well,’ Cynthia said, clasping her hands in front of her chest. ‘I am glad to have met you, Finn, and to have seen you, Violet. I’ll see you again in a week or so on location in Hampshire.
’ She leaned in to Finn. ‘I believe we’ve got a marvellous country estate to stand in as Edith’s crumbling manor.
Methinks it will provide a cinematic backdrop,’ she waved her hands theatrically, ‘as Edith tries to blackmail Nathanial and Beatrice for her own ends!’
Gently resting a hand on Finn’s arm, she murmured, ‘See you soon, darling,’ and waltzed off, a cloud of Dior hanging heavy in the air in her wake.
As Cynthia disappeared down the stairs, Finn said, ‘Wow. They cast Cynthia Bulbowen. That’s impressive!’
‘Uh-huh,’ Violet said, tugging at a pen on a lanyard around her neck. Even though Cynthia had gone, she still seemed irritable.
‘So, how do you know Cynthia? She’s a theatre legend. Have you worked together?’
Violet sighed. Staring into the middle distance, she replied, ‘She’s my mother.’