Billy nodded. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Now, please, if you would get into the back, we can head off. I’ll be well bollocked if you’re late on your first day.’
Jenny smiled sweetly and did as she was asked. Billy closed the door, climbed into the front and started the car.
‘Actually there’s more room in the back,’ she said as Billy drove through Notting Hill.
‘It’s designed around the passenger,’ said Billy. ‘It’s a car for being driven around in.’
Jenny looked around. ‘I could get used to this,’ she said. ‘So how long have you been driving Carolyn?’
‘Three years, give or take.’
‘And what’s she like?’
Billy looked at her in the driving mirror. ‘You sound like you don’t know her.’
‘We’re not that close, to be honest,’ she said. ‘We both left home when we were teenagers, she came to London to seek fame and fortune. I went backpacking in India and traveled through Southeast Asia and, after a very long story, I ended up in Brisbane with a drug-taking husband who thought knocking me around was a great way to spend a Saturday night.’
‘Sorry to hear that,’ said Billy.
‘You make your own bed in this life, Billy, no one forces you to lie in it. Anyway, it’s behind me now. He left five years ago and if I could only find the bastard I’d divorce him.’ She grinned. ‘Or have him shot. I’m easy either way.’
‘Never understood anyone who’d want to hit a woman,’ said Billy.
‘That’s because you’re a gentleman, Billy. But believe me, there’s plenty of men out there happy to take a swing at a member of the fairer sex.’
‘You know, Carolyn never mentioned you, not once,’ said Billy, looking at her in the rear-view mirror.
‘As I said, we weren’t that close. I don’t think anyone in Oz would know she was my sister.’
‘Do they see the show down there?’
‘Not really. It’s on one of the cable channels, but it’s not like I ever got stopped in the street or anything.’
‘Well, that’s going to happen here, that’s for sure,’ he said. ‘Especially with you dressing like her. Your hair’s a bit different, but the resemblance is…’ He laughed. ‘Stupid thing to say,’ he said. ‘You’re twins. Of course you look the same.’
CHAPTER 77
Jenny sat in the chair as Tracey busied herself applying make-up. ‘You really do look like her,’ said the make-up artist. Jenny’s hair was covered in a clear plastic cap covering a dozen or so slips of silver paper to make it look as if her hair was being dyed.
‘That’s the thing about twins,’ said Jenny.
‘But even your skin. The texture. The colour. And this large freckle by your nose, Carolyn has one in pretty much the same place.’
‘It’s genetics,’ said Jenny. ‘But personality-wise we’re totally different. I tell you Tracey, I’m shitting myself here, I really don’t think I’m going to be able to do it. Does my sister get nervous?’
‘Carolyn? Never? She always joked she could do it in her sleep. She did stage work early on and that was difficult, she said, because there you don’t get to correct your mistakes, they’re out there for the audience to see. In TV-Land if you do anything wrong, the director shouts “cut” and you get to do it again. And even if the shoot doesn’t go well, they can fix most things in the edit.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Say you get your dialogue wrong. They can dub it. If you do something wrong, they can edit that bit out. And there’s all sorts of CGI tricks they can use. So, really, you don’t have to worry about a thing.’
Jenny took a deep breath. ‘I hope you’re right,’ she said.
Phillippa appeared at the door holding pale green sheets of paper. ‘Everything okay, Jenny?’ she asked.
‘I think so.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ said the director. She waved the sheets in the air. ‘I’ve had the writers put together a short scene in a hairdressers. It’ll explain the lighter hair and give us a chance to do a scene where it’s just you talking.’ She gave one of the sheets to Jenny. ‘Basically you’re sitting in a chair at the hairdressers. You’re given a cup of coffee but you ask for champagne.’
‘Champagne? In a hairdressers?’
‘That’s the way Diana lives. Then you talk to your stylist. Then your phone rings and you talk to your lawyer.’
Jenny looked at the sheet. ‘So no one else speaks?’
‘It’s cheaper that way,’ said Phillippa. ‘If they don’t speak, they’re classed as an extra. If they talk, then it’s a speaking part and we have to pay a lot more.’ She grinned, ‘One or two words is okay, but the absolute maximum is four. Generally it’s better if they don’t speak.’ She looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Ten minutes, okay?’
‘We’ll be ready,’ said Tracey.
Phillippa patted Jenny on the shoulder and left. Tracey continued to work on Jenny’s eyes and lips, chatting away about the actors she’d worked with over the years. The ten minutes was almost up when Terry appeared. ‘Good to go, darling?’ he asked.
‘As I’ll ever be,’ said Jenny.
Terry was holding a Prada shoulder bag and a BlackBerry. ‘Here’s the bag for this scene – you’ll find they change more than your outfits.’
Jenny took the bag. It was made of shiny black leather with silver fastenings. ‘It’s lovely, do I get to keep it?’
Terry laughed. ‘Not this one, but we’re getting some samples later in the week so I’ll let you have first pick.’ He handed her the phone. ‘This is the phone you use to make the call. It’s inert so it won’t interfere with the microphones but a light comes on as if it’s working.’
‘So I’m not making a call?’
‘Of course not.’
‘So how do I hear what the other person is saying?’
Terry laughed. ‘You don’t. You’re not talking to anyone. It’s just you.’
‘But how do I know what he’s supposed to be saying? What do I do?’
‘That’s what acting is,’ said Terry. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Come on.’
‘You’re good to go,’ said Tracey. She removed the tissue paper from around Jenny’s neck.
Terry took Jenny along the corridor to the main studio. He pushed open the double doors and she followed him into a cavernous space with bare concrete floors and a roof criss-crossed with metal beams. Facing them was a wall of cheap wooden panels. There were numbers written in red paint on some wooden supports holding them upright. It had the look of a shanty town, but when she followed Terry around to the right she found herself looking at a modern kitchen, full of stainless steel appliances and black marble worktops.
Around the next corner was a hairdressing salon. The camera had been set up facing a chair next to which stood a pretty blonde girl dressed all in black. Phillippa was sitting on a camp stool looking at two monitors and talking to an earnest young man who was making notes on a clipboard. Phillippa saw Jenny and hurried over. ‘Did you have a chance to look at the lines?’ she asked.
‘Sure,’ said Jenny.
‘I’m sorry it’s such short notice, but we can do a rehearsal first. And what we’ll do is try to shoot you from the side and back so if the worst comes to the worst we can redub the dialogue later.’
‘Okay,’ said Jenny. She took the bag and the phone from Terry.
‘Now, what we’ll do is have the bag on the counter there,’ said Phillippa, pointing to the mirror. ‘You do the dialogue with the coffee, then you talk to Rachel here.’ The blonde waved a hand and mouthed ‘Hi’.
‘Once we’ve got that out of the way, we’ll move the camera to the side and shoot the second part of the scene, when you’re on the phone to your lawyer.’