Home > Shopaholic to the Stars (Shopaholic #7)(59)

Shopaholic to the Stars (Shopaholic #7)(59)
Author: Sophie Kinsella

“How about this?”

“OK. We’ll try it.” Ant walks onto the set, and I can see him showing the page to the actress in the velvet dress.

“Why don’t you just take the line to the actors yourself?” I say as Dylan sits down.

“I don’t approach the set.” He sounds shocked at the idea. “The director approaches the set.”

He sounds like he’s saying, I don’t approach the throne. Blimey, film sets are complicated places. “So, I hope you enjoyed your visit,” he adds, clearly forcing himself to be polite. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Oh, we haven’t finished our visit yet,” I explain.

“We’re going to be in the film!” adds Suze.

“We’re extras!”

“You?” He looks from me to Suze and back again.

I’m about to say he needn’t look so dubious when Ant appears, scowling at Dylan, and chucks the legal pad at him.

“Yolanda says this is flaccid, and I agree. Can’t you do better than that?”

Honestly. What a bully. I bet Dylan’s written a brilliant line. (Although not as good as “With great power comes great responsibility.”)

“I was distracted by these two,” says Dylan meanly, gesturing at us, and my sympathy instantly evaporates. He didn’t have to blame us! We were trying to help! Ant glowers at us, then glowers even more at Dylan.

“Well, give me some more options. We’re taking five.” Ant strides away, and Dylan frowns over his legal pad again, chewing his pen. The atmosphere is quite tense, and I’m relieved when Don appears and beckons us away from the chairs.

“The actors are having a break,” he says. “So I thought you’d like to look over the set before we head to wardrobe.”

We follow him to the set and step cautiously onto the carpet. We’re standing on a real movie set! It’s quite small but really well designed, with shelves of books and a table with ornaments and a fake window with a velvet curtain.

“Excuse me,” says Don as his phone buzzes, “I must take this call.”

He steps off the set, and Suze sits in Lady Violet’s chair. “Kidnapped,” she says in a mournful voice. “Kidnapped!”

“Really good!” I say. “D’you think Lady Violet’s dress is a bit bunchy? I think it could be more flattering. I might tell the wardrobe person.”

“Kidnapped!” says Suze again, and stares out to the camera, extending her hands as though she’s on a massive London stage and that’s the audience. “Oh my God. Kidnapped! Will our nightmare never end?”

“Everything looks so realistic,” I say, trailing my hand over a row of fake book spines. “Look at this cupboard.” I rattle the door, but it’s stuck fast. “It looks so real, but it’s fake, like everything.” I wander over to the little table. “I mean, look at these cakes. They look totally real. They even smell real. It’s so clever.”

“They might be real,” points out Suze.

“Of course they’re not real. Nothing on a film set is real. Look.” I lift one up confidently and take a bite out of it.

Shit. It was real. I have a mouthful of sponge and cream.

“Bex!” Suze is staring at me in consternation. “That cake is in the film! You can’t eat it!”

“I didn’t mean to!” I say defensively.

I feel slightly outraged. They shouldn’t have real cakes on a movie set. It goes against the whole spirit of the thing.

I look around, but no one seems to have seen me. What shall I do now? I can’t put half a cake down on the table.

“OK, we’re going again,” comes a booming voice. “Clear the set!”

Oh God. The actors are returning and I still have half a cake in my hands.

Maybe they won’t notice.

I hastily sneak off the set, my hands behind my back, and find a place where I’m almost hidden behind a stone pillar. The two actors are sitting back down on the chairs, and everyone is gathering for a new take.

“Wait a minute.” A girl dressed all in black comes running onto the set. She squints into the screen of a little camera, then peers at the table. “What happened to the other cake?”

Damn.

The actors are looking around blankly, as though they hadn’t even realized there were any cakes in the shot.

“Cake?” says the man at last.

“Yes, cake! There should be six!” She jabs at her camera screen. “What happened to it?”

“Well, don’t look at me!” says the man, sounding affronted. “I never saw the cake.”

“Yes, you did!”

“I think there were five,” says the actress playing Lady Violet.

“Excuse me,” says the girl in black tightly. “If I say there were six, then there were six, and unless you want to reshoot everything we’ve done this morning, then I suggest you don’t move the props around.”

“I didn’t move anything around!” retorts Lady Violet.

I have to confess. Go on, Becky. I force myself to step forward onto the edge of the set and clear my throat.

“Um, excuse me?” I say awkwardly. “It’s here. Sorry.”

I proffer my hand and everyone stares at the half-eaten crumby cake. My cheeks are flaming with embarrassment, especially when a chunk falls on the floor. I quickly bend to get it, feeling worse than ever.

“Shall I put it back on the table?” I venture. “We could hide the eaten side.…”

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