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40
Jack
Alistair pushed the contract across the table with a huge grin on his face.
‘You’re sure about this?’ he said.
I nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
I signed and dated two sets of contracts, a sense of calm and relief flooding through me. Everything about this felt right. Hargreaves & Kemp’s offices weren’t all shiny and pretentious like Star Management’s were, they were smaller and messier, with lots of little nooks and crannies, where presumably phone calls and meetings took place. I clocked the wall of headshots. There was a decidedly smaller client list here, still with some names I recognised, but no A-listers. Just actors who were steadily working away, doing what they’d trained to do, doing what they loved.
‘We should celebrate once you’ve let Chad know,’ said Alistair. ‘We’ll have dinner and drinks somewhere. Get to know each other a bit more.’
‘That would be really nice,’ I replied.
‘And so my priority is going to be getting casting directors to see you at the Soho Theatre. I’m going to spend this afternoon making calls and then I’ll follow up with your Spotlight link so that they can see your showreel. It’s really strong, Jack, so I’m pretty sure we’ll get some of the big names in and a handful of the BBC guys.’
Was he for real? Alistair was doing more for me in five minutes than Chad had done for me in years. I’d been honest with him from the start, about my dyslexia (which he’d said was absolutely not a problem and that he would let the casting directors know on my behalf in advance if I wanted him to). I explained what had happened with Chad and what I didn’t want to happen again.
‘You can call me anytime, Jack,’ he reassured me. ‘Evenings, weekends, whatever. If I’m busy, I’ll get back to you, but I will get back to you.’
I nodded, finding it hard to take in. I couldn’t believe I’d suffered in silence for ten years when I could have done this ages ago and then my life might have looked very different by now.
‘Right. Let’s go and introduce you to the rest of the team, shall we?’ said Alistair. ‘You’ll be seeing a lot of them. We’re all about creating a family here – you’ll be invited for barbecues and opening nights galore. We try to have a get-together at a big sporting event once a year, usually at Lord’s, sometimes Wimbledon if we can get enough tickets.’
I got up, carefully sliding my copy of my contract into my bag. I finally had the acting family I craved. And I couldn’t wait to get started.
I stood in a quiet side street away from the traffic and dialled Chad’s number.
Alistair had some great ideas for my future. He wanted me to do pilot season in LA next February, for a start, and he’d already been in touch with Dax Delano from Days of Our Lives, who remembered me, apparently, and would be happy to get me in for a meeting if I did go out there. Alistair understood that money was tight and we thought about how I could manage it. Some TV guest roles, he suggested; a couple of well-paid commercials. Although Chad obviously had amazing contacts, they were always shrouded in secrecy so there was never any transparency as to what he was actually doing to get me seen for stuff (not much, I suspected).
Miraculously, after a few rings, Chad answered his phone.
‘Chad speaking,’ he said, in his usual offish tone, which I thought was very affected. It was something I reckoned he’d cultivated in order to sound busy and high-status, but actually he just sounded like a knob.
‘It’s Jack,’ I said, going through the usual routine. ‘Jack Maxwell.’
‘What can I do for you, Jack?’ he asked, sounding put out already.
‘There’s something I need to talk to you about.’
Chat sighed. ‘What is it now, Jack? Because if you’re going to complain about doing fringe again, I haven’t got time to hear it. As I’ve explained before, it will—’
‘It’s not about the play,’ I said, cutting in. ‘So can you hear me out or not?’
God, I’d never spoken to him like this. Amazing what having other options could do for you. For the first time, I felt actual anger towards him, something I’d always suppressed before because I’d felt so grateful he’d chosen me in the first place. But how dare he make me feel crap about myself? He took fifteen per cent of my earnings and for what? Making me feel worthless? Making me doubt my abilities as an actor?
‘I’m with a client on set. Whatever it is, just tell me now and let’s get it over with,’ he replied.
I shook my head; how the fuck had I put up with this for so long?
‘It’s time I moved on, Chad,’ I said. ‘Another agent wants to represent me and I’ve accepted his offer.’
Chad laughed. ‘You’re joking, right?’
‘Nope.’
He was silent for a few seconds. I could hear him breathing heavily. ‘I’ve nearly terminated our relationship several times, you do know that, don’t you, Jack?’ he said nastily.
