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Mike’s face was back centre-screen. Harriet hurriedly turned the sound up and his voice came into the room.
‘Favourite with the viewers … a wonderful actor with a long and honoured career behind him … Derek will be very much missed.’
‘The rumours must be very worrying for everyone in the series,’ said the presenter. ‘What was the relationship between Derek Fenn and your co-star, Annie Lang?’
‘It’s true they were close, very close.’ Mike paused, his eyes half veiled, his mouth curling at the edges in a cynical smile that made Sean swear.
‘The bastard!’
‘Mike has always been a master of innuendo,’ Harriet grimly said.
Mike went on, ‘Derek gave Annie her first break, her first part on TV; they were always seen around together after that.’ He gave that smile again into camera and Sean made apoplectic noises.
‘I’ll kill him.’
The presenter asked, ‘Annie has always refused to talk about her private life, hasn’t she? When we had her on the programme a few months back she would only talk about her part in The Force. And there has never been any gossip about her until now.’
‘I’ve never heard of any other man in her life,’ agreed Mike, then paused, added, ‘Apart from Derek.’
‘Were they living together?’
Mike hesitated as if about to say yes, then softly murmured, ‘You’ll have to ask her that. But I’m sure the rumour that she had had Derek’s baby is a lie.’
Sean swore violently.
Harriet groaned. ‘Oh, no. How could he do that?’
The TV presenters were firing excited questions; Mike parried them all with a half-smile.
‘I just said it was only a rumour, and I’m sure it isn’t true. No, I’ve never seen her with a child, but then she has kept her private life very secret until now.’
From then on he said nothing new, and the interview was over a moment later; Harriet switched off the set.
She walked over to the window and stared out, face blank. At last, she said, ‘If Annie is involved, you know, the series is finished.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Harriet, how can you even say that? That bastard got to you too, did he? I’m ashamed of you! The viewers may be stupid enough to listen to Waterford, but you know Annie. Think about her.’ Sean strode over to the wall on which hung stills from various series Harriet had worked on – he flung out a hand to point to a big photo of Annie: a pale oval face, huge eyes, delicate bones. ‘Look at her! Just look at her face. Can you see her strangling Derek?’
10
Harriet was desperate over the time they were losing on the schedule. The past couple of weeks had been hectic with endless rewrites and rejigging of the schedule; the scripts had been shot to pieces, they had dropped one episode altogether and substituted another, as Sean explained to Chorley that morning.
‘We need Miss Lang on set for a few hours. Can’t you give us that time to shoot a
t least a couple of scenes?’
Chorley looked sullen but finally agreed when Billy and his top lawyer showed up to back Sean. ‘If I can talk to her during your lunch break, then?’
‘After she has eaten – it is essential for her to have lunch first, she’ll be tired,’ Sean said, looking at the lawyer for support. The lawyer nodded, murmured something in agreement.
‘Very well,’ Chorley said through his teeth. ‘One o’clock?’
Triumphantly, Sean went off to the set, where Annie was just beginning work. She looked tired and pale but composed. How much more of this can she take, though? wondered Sean.
Annie was sleepwalking through her scene; she knew the lines, she remembered the moves they had rehearsed, and she performed like an automaton, but her mind was absorbed in a confusion of memories and thoughts; she couldn’t stop thinking about the way Derek had died … she had never known anyone who died so violently before.
These scripts they acted every week were full of violence, fights and beatings-up, deaths and rapes, but they were rehearsed and timed like a ballet – you watched them being acted out, you never believed they were real. You knew it was just a story, with actors who would get up and shower off the blood and mud, and go home to their wives, their kids, their lovers, their cats.
This was real. Derek was dead. He would not get up and go home. She would never see him again. The shock still numbed her. He had annoyed her, irritated her, amused her, she had been grateful to him, she had liked him.
