Needles and Pearls (31 page)

‘My Martin might be in. I took him round a bit of fish last night on that new thermal plate I got in my catalogue. Ever so good, it is. And he said he might drop it in later.’

‘OK.’

‘He’s always been fussy about fish. I had the devil of a job to get him to eat it when he was younger.’

‘Right.’

‘I did him a nice bit of cod in parsley sauce – he likes that. Lord, look at the time – I’d better be off.’

‘OK.’

Dear God. Although cod in parsley sauce sounds quite nice, actually; maybe I could make some tonight. Archie will pick all the parsley out, but cod in parsley-chopped-very-fine sauce might work. Gran and Reg will probably be around. Operation Decorate is well under way, and after an initial bumpy start when we had to spend all day in the garden while Reg and Martin sanded the floor, closely followed by Gran in a face mask wielding the hoover and a damp cloth, it’s all been fairly painless. And the floor looks fabulous. Jack’s room is finished and he loves it, especially the fluorescent glow in the dark moons and stars, and Archie’s room just needs the wallpaper border of space ships and it’s done. I might try to stick it up today if Reg doesn’t beat me to it.

I’ve been worried they’d overdo it, and I’d have someone from Age Concern showing me a red card, but they’re both
much better at pacing themselves than I am. There are lots of cups of tea and little rests, and Gran seems just as chirpy at the end of the day as she did in the morning. We’ve chosen new material at the market for curtains, so the spare room now has buttermilk walls, and white cotton curtains with yellow daisies, with blackout linings to encourage new small people to learn to sleep. And in between painting they’ve been having trips up to John Lewis at Bluewater so they can haunt the baby department and make the assistants demonstrate all the different prams and cots.

I’ve promised to go up with them soon for the final decision, but I’m trying to put it off for a bit longer because I’ve still got a few weeks yet and I’m nowhere near ready for pram rehearsals. I’ve booked my slot for my C-section, but I’m trying not to think about it. The midwife at the doctor’s says everything’s fine so I’d really like a bit more normal life before everything goes into baby mode.

I’m finishing off the tea-time window, which Olivia helped me with on Saturday. Polly was in too; she’s taken to coming in early before the rest of the group arrive, and sitting knitting with Olivia. So far they’ve knitted themselves short skirts and now they’re knitting bags, which is great because Polly’s definitely the trendsetter girl in their year, so a few of the others are bound to follow suit. Even Elsie’s been impressed at how well the group is working: it’s like we’re opening up the shop to a whole new generation, which reminds me, I’d better order in some more of the grey flecked tweed, which seems to be their current favourite.

Martin arrives with the thermal plate and matching lid twenty minutes after Elsie’s left.

‘You timed that well.’

He grins.

‘She’s driving me mad. She’ll be doing me boiled eggs and soldiers next if I let her.’

‘I love boiled eggs and soldiers. I haven’t had them for ages.’

‘I hate parsley sauce, and she knows it. Trevor liked it, though, but he’ll eat anything. How’s the new floor?’

‘Lovely. We’ve moved the bed up against the wall now so the room looks much bigger.’

‘Mum was saying you want a new shower, for the baby.’

‘Sorry?’

‘A new shower.’

He must mean the baby shower. Trust Martin to think a baby shower involves plumbing.

‘Actually –’

‘So I’ve had a word with Gary – he’s helping me out with the plumbing at the barn – and he’ll give me a half-day free if I help him with his kitchen cabinets. So I thought I could do it for you, if you like. What sort of shower were you after?’

‘I hadn’t really thought.’

‘I noticed the base was cracked when I was in doing the floor, but they’re easy to replace. But if you want it ready for the baby we’d better get a move on.’

I can’t tell him it’s not that sort of shower now or he’ll feel like such a twit.

‘Well, that would be great, but only if you let me pay.’

‘Sure – you could teach me to cook. I can’t keep living on tins of soup and I’d like to learn how to do a few simple things.’

‘Like boiled eggs and soldiers?’

He grins.

‘Yes. And roast chicken, is that difficult?’

‘Not really.’

‘Great. Well, you give me cooking lessons and I’ll sort the shower out. Shall I bring you some brochures in? I’ve got a few at the barn. Some of them are very pricey but there are a few good basic ones. You’ll probably need a pump, though. What’s your water pressure like?’

‘Fine, I think.’

‘Right. Well, I’ll bring the brochures in and we can start from there, yes?’

‘Great. Thanks, Martin.’

‘No problem. I’d like to do one actually – give me a clearer idea of what’s involved for when I do mine at the barn.’

A proper shower that produces more than a tepid trickle wasn’t exactly top of my list, but I’m sure it’ll come in handy, especially since I’m going to be needing as much help as I can get in the waking-up-in-time-for-the-school-run department. And there’s still a bit of money left over from the curtains, and I’ve got the money coming from the film people.

Actually, I’d better call Maxine and check what time they want me on Friday. I’m due to visit them on location, which is exciting; Ellen’s still trying to come along as my helper, like anyone would fall for that. But the press interest in Jean-Luc hasn’t really subsided, even though they’ve all run photographs of him and Grace kissing in a Paris bistro.

‘Maxine?’

‘Hi, Jo, how are you? Still baby on board?’

We were joking about those silly car stickers last time we talked: she’s seen a Baby I’m Bored one which we both think is much better, so she’s getting one for Ed, to put in his Porsche.

‘So far so good. I wanted to check what time I should get there on Friday.’

‘Around lunchtime, or earlier if you like.’

‘Do you need me to bring anything?’

‘Not unless you’ve got any Valium.’

It’s a three-hour drive to the hotel in Sussex that the film people have taken over as their base, four if you keep having to stop for loo breaks. But it’s a treat being away from Broadgate for the day, and I feel rather glamorous, off to meet my film-star client. That’s one of the things I miss most about working on the news: feeling like a real grown-up, with a high-pressure job. If I order the wrong wool nobody really cares except me, and Mr Prewitt when he sees the books, and I do miss the pace sometimes, and the drinks after work and all the in-jokes. Not that I’d really change things, but still, it’s nice to be out and about for a change.

Everyone’s having lunch when I arrive, queuing up at a canteen trailer and sitting at a variety of tables in the car park. Maxine had already warned me it would be a bit shambolic, but I didn’t think it would look like something the WRVS might have set up during the war: lots of people seem to be wearing
Dad’s Army
costumes and there are boxes and piles of equipment all over the place. At least with news you only get a cameraman, or a van at most; this is more like an invasion.

I’m supposed to find one of the assistant producers called Rick, who will take me to Grace, but Maxine spots me first.

‘Hi, Jo. Do you want some lunch?’

‘No, I’m fine, thanks. This is so exciting. How’s it going?’

‘OK, the weather’s been hopeless but we’re getting there. Let’s have some lunch. Grace is a bit busy, rehearsing with Jean-Luc’ She raises her eyebrows.

‘Oh, right, well, yes, please then. Lunch would be great.’

*   *   *

I’m sitting on a plastic chair eating chicken salad while a series of men in black-nylon-padded jackets check things with Maxine or hand her bits of paper.

‘A quarter to five – I’m not telling her a quarter to five.’

‘Tom wants to get the light.’

‘Well he can tell her then.’

‘Is there a problem?’

A small, slightly dishevelled-looking man is smiling at Maxine.

‘Jo, this is Tom, our director. This is Jo, Grace’s knitting coach.’

‘Her what?’

‘Jo helps Grace source patterns and materials for her knitting, and she runs masterclasses too.’

I must remember that, it sounds so efficient and professional.

Tom smiles.

‘What a great way to make a living; better than this madness. So Maxine darling, I gather Grace is having a run-through with Prince Charming. Is she going to be long, do you think?’

‘Yesterday was my fault, Tom. I didn’t give her the right time. I’m sorry.’

‘Of course, no problem. Lovely to meet you, Jo. We’ll see you later, I expect.’ He wanders off, trailed by a gaggle of the black-nylon boys and a woman wearing an earpiece.

‘Grace was late yesterday and he’s still furious about it.’

‘He seemed very nice.’

‘He’s a brilliant director, and not such an arse as the rest of them, but he’s in his own head most of the time. He emerges occasionally to give everyone a bollocking, apart from Grace, of course. He fired two assistants yesterday, but they were doing a crap job so I don’t really blame him.
This business is full of assistants who think they’re Special. Oh, and we don’t call Jean-Luc Prince Charming in front of Grace. It’s a joke the crew have got going, what with him being a Frog. They think it’s very witty.’

‘Right.’

‘Have you got all the wool and stuff?’

‘Yes, it’s in the car. Shall I get it?’

‘No, have a coffee first. Decaff, right?’

‘Please. I’ve half-knitted a few versions, so she can choose, in air-force blue; is that right?’

‘Great.’

‘Where’s Lily? I thought she’d be here.’

‘She is. We’ve set up a playroom for her next to Grace’s suite. She’s loving it.’

The woman with the earpiece comes over while Maxine gets the coffee.

‘You’re the knitting woman, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, get me the stuff then – I need to take it to where we’re setting up. And hurry up, would you, please – I haven’t got all day.’

‘I’ll just –’

Maxine has come straight back over, without the coffees.

‘Good, you’ve met Jo, VIP friend of Grace. We’ll bring the knitting props over in a minute. We’re having a quick drink first. OK?’

‘Right. Sure, of course.’

‘Actually, could you get us two coffees? There seems to be a queue. Both white, no sugar, decaff for Jo. Got that?’

‘Yes. I’ll do that right now.’

‘Thank you. So much.’

‘Crikey.’

‘She’s been annoying me all week. She’s a total cow.’

‘So shall I get the knitting then?’

‘No. When she comes back you can give her the keys and she’ll get it. Now she thinks you’re a VIP she’ll be all over you like a rash. There’s something else I wanted to mention to you, actually.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘Grace is in London tomorrow afternoon, for a photo session.
Vanity Fair are
sending Daniel Fitzgerald over to do a piece on the film.’

‘Oh.’

‘He won’t be coming here.’

‘Right.’

‘But I thought you’d like to know.’

‘Thanks, Max.’

‘Have you sorted things out with him? Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but Grace mentioned the letter. Have you spoken to him since then?’

‘No.’

‘Bastard. Well, just tell me, if you want me to give him a message or anything.’

‘Thanks, Max, but I’m fine, really.’

‘Good for you. But let me know if you change your mind. Oh, here she comes with the coffees. Have you got your car keys handy?’

Christ, Daniel, in London. With Grace. It feels a bit weird knowing he’ll be in England. I’m used to thinking of him in airports off to exotic locations. But nothing’s changed. He’ll get in touch if he wants to, and if not, then that’s fine too.

There’s a fleet of black people carriers to ferry everyone to the river where they’re filming this afternoon. Maxine tells me the scene involves Grace sitting under a tree knitting while the three evacuee children are trying to fish, but since
they’re not having much luck she says some magic words and they catch a trout. And then Professor Jean-Luc arrives.

There are people everywhere, and cameras and lights, and a man climbing up the tree to saw one of the branches off because Tom doesn’t like the shape of it. Everyone’s here except Grace and Jean-Luc, who are still in make-up. We nipped in to see them just before we left, and Grace was wearing a lovely tweed suit and having her hair put up into a bun. But there’s no sign of her now.

The woman with the earpiece is giving Maxine a very frosty look, while giving me the occasional hesitant smile until a black car with tinted windows arrives, and Grace gets out, looking amazing. She’s in full Diva mode, and sits down under the tree looking very relaxed, and breathtakingly beautiful.

‘Quiet, everybody, please.’

A young man steps forward and raises his hand and everyone falls silent as he raises an electronic version of a clapperboard. There’s beep as he presses the button and the clock starts.

‘Scene Fourteen, take One. Action.’