Erhalten Sie Zugang zu diesem und mehr als 300000 Büchern ab EUR 5,99 monatlich.
- Herausgeber: Allison & Busby
- Kategorie: Krimi
- Serie: Dog Sitter Detective
- Sprache: Englisch
Gwinny Tuffel is on location in the misty Yorkshire Dales filming a small part in Draculania, a genderswapped remake of Bram Stoker's classic tale, when life begins to imitate art a little too closely. One of the cast members is found dead inside a locked trailer, with a stake through their heart. With a prima donna in the starring role, filming is already facing delays, while Gwinny is being run ragged by Lily, the Jack Russell terrier she's looking after for a friend in hospital. Against the backdrop of Hendale Hall with its own vampire legend, a flesh-and-blood killer has struck. Will Gwinny be able to find the murderer before the production or any further victims are cut?
Sie lesen das E-Book in den Legimi-Apps auf:
Seitenzahl: 358
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
Das E-Book (TTS) können Sie hören im Abo „Legimi Premium” in Legimi-Apps auf:
Ähnliche
1
2
3
The Dog Sitter Detective Plays Dead
ANTONY JOHNSTON
4
5
In memory of Kim
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
The mist closed around me like a chill, opaque shroud. It had no form yet blinded me with grey shadow, ethereal wisps swirling as if lit from within. A cold, clammy scent passed lazily through the air, disorientating me. I couldn’t turn back; there was nothing for me there. I must keep going. I walked on, slowly stumbling through the intangible, infinite veil.
A shape formed before me in the endless grey, indistinct but moving closer. Now it was a silhouette, tall and approaching fast, faster than any normal man could walk. I felt an urgent pull to move forward, to meet it, but every instinct in my soul told me that would end in disaster. I rallied my strength and veered away, resisting the pull, desperate to escape a terrible fate – now! Now!
‘Morning, Gwinny,’ said the postman, barely missing me as he bicycled out of the mist. ‘Can’t see your hand in front of your face this morning. ‘’Ow do, Lily,’ he added to the elderly Jack Russell terrier I held on a taut 8lead, as she continued pulling towards him. Whether to steal a fuss or bite his ankles I couldn’t be sure, hence my keeping her away.
‘It really is quite a fog,’ I said inanely. As if he hadn’t noticed.
‘Aye, and’ll likely stick. Tends to, around here.’
With that he was gone. I stepped back onto the path, eager to take Lily home. This Draculania business was messing with my head.
I was in Yorkshire for a film role, my biggest part since re-emerging from retirement. I’d given up acting at fifty to look after my father, who was becoming very ill. When he died a decade later, I discovered that we’d collectively burnt through his entire savings, which weren’t inconsiderable. He left me a house in Chelsea – in theory worth plenty, but in practice falling to pieces and needing lots of expensive work before anyone would consider buying it. My own flat was being rented by a young couple who’d recently had their first child. I didn’t have the heart to evict them and take it back.
So back to work I went, despite my grey hair and failing joints, and began scrabbling around for roles. I was helped in this endeavour by my best friend, Tina, a more famous and successful actress than I would ever be, who put in a good word every now and then; and my new agent, ‘Bostin’ Jim Austin, who had a mind as shrewd as his Brummie accent. It was Bostin Jim who’d put me forward for this part in Draculania, a mid-budget modern take on Stoker’s classic. The ‘take’ was a full gender swap, so I played Dr Jacqueline Seward, 9protégé of Dr Abigail Van Helsing and friend to Lady Godalming … you get the idea. I was playing ten years younger than my age, but that was simple enough with make-up and a wig.
It was a decent screenplay. Very atmospheric, hence my phantasmagoria on the moors that morning. Lily, the Jack Russell terrier so eager to greet the postman emerging from the mist, belonged to the actress Viv Danforth. Viv was of the acting generation before mine and had taken me under her wing when I was young. She’d retired years ago, returning to her native Yorkshire to buy a converted farmhouse in Hendale, so when I learnt the film would be shooting on location in the area I called her and offered to visit.
Although it had been almost twenty years since we’d last met, we immediately picked up where we left off, trading showbiz gossip and laughing at old war stories. Some changes couldn’t be ignored, though. Mentally Viv was still sharp, but physically she’d grown frail. She managed to live independently after her husband, David, had passed away, but I could tell it wasn’t easy. Especially with a dog to look after.
Lily was eleven years old, an age at which even terriers begin to slow down. The last dog my father owned was a Jack Russell called Rusty, who predeceased him by four years, so I was very comfortable with the breed. Thank goodness, because despite her age Lily still needed regular walks and Viv struggled to keep up. Me being me, I offered to help while I was in the area by taking Lily on the moor before and after work each day. 10
Normally I’d charge for that sort of thing. You see, the other way I’ve been trying to make a living since realising I was broke has been by dog sitting. That all started at Tina’s aborted wedding, which is a whole other story involving a dead Italian, two Saluki hounds, an olive oil empire and me having to solve a murder because the police couldn’t.
But now things were looking up. This small-but-notable part in a feature film meant I could afford to do a freebie, especially for an old friend like Viv. Besides, the decades of living in London hadn’t blunted her Yorkshire frugality and if I’d tried to charge she might not have let me walk Lily at all. That would have been a shame, because the dog and I were both enjoying it, even if she didn’t have quite the same verve and energy as when she was younger. Tell me about it.
My phone buzzed as we passed through the final field gate onto the road leading back to Viv’s house. Signal around here was terrible, almost non-existent on the moors proper, and when I looked at the screen I saw it was notification of a voicemail. Somebody must have tried to call me while I was out of range, walking Lily. Most likely someone from the film, so I decided to check it after I dropped the dog off at Viv’s.
But as I neared her farmhouse, the morning mist began to lift at last. Through the thinning wisps of grey, I saw the unmistakeable pulsing blue lights of an ambulance.
CHAPTER TWO
The ambulance crew wouldn’t let me ride with Viv to the hospital, partly because I wasn’t family (despite her having no family nearby) but mostly because of Lily.
I didn’t want to leave the dog in the house by herself. As far as I knew she and Viv had never been apart for any length of time, and no matter their age Jack Russells are prone to destruction when bored. Leave her alone for too long and there might barely be a house worth returning to. That left the neighbours, all at least a quarter of a mile away. So I bundled Lily into my rusty old Volvo and tried to find someone who’d look after her.
‘I’m off to work, no dogs allowed—’
‘You’re joking, I’ve already got three kids—’
‘I don’t even know who that is, we only moved here in the summer—’
‘You’ve already got hold of it, why can’t you look after it?’ 12
So much for Yorkshire hospitality.
These summary dismissals left me in a pickle. By now it was gone eight, and I was supposed to be in hair and make-up by eight-thirty. If I set off now at top speed I could probably make it. But what about Lily? What about Viv, for that matter?
The voicemail had been from the ambulance medic, informing me that Viv had fallen in the kitchen. A nasty bump on the head and a suspected broken hip, which at her age is never good news. Fortunately, it hadn’t completely incapacitated her, and while Viv was stubborn, she wasn’t stupid. The moment she’d found herself on the floor she’d pressed the alarm pendant she wore about the house.
But I knew how these things went, having accompanied my father on many emergency hospital visits of his own. The immediate focus would be on getting the patient stable and in a bed, followed by finding a relative or neighbour to bring her a bag of fresh clothes, medication, reading glasses and so on. Given their attitude to Lily I didn’t trust any of them to handle that, so I said to hell with it and called Steven McDonald, the film’s producer. I could have called the director, but she might have actually picked up and I didn’t have time for that. Steven never answered calls.
‘It’s Gwinny,’ I said after the voicemail beep. ‘I’m going to be late to set today. My friend has been rushed to hospital, and I need to check on her. I’ll be in by noon.’
I ended the call, then immediately silenced my phone 13so he couldn’t call me back and deliver a stream of invective. I was confident it would be fine, anyway. My first scene was due to start at eleven, but we’d been shooting here for almost a week already and every single day had been delayed thanks to our capricious star.
I fed Lily some kibble, and while she scoffed it I packed a bag of clothes for Viv. Her phone was still charging on her bedside table, so I packed that and the cable too. Then I loaded the bag in the car, with Lily following. She sniffed the air and wagged her tail.
‘Don’t worry, you’re coming too,’ I reassured her.
What choice did I have? There was no chance Viv would return home today or possibly even this week. I could have looked up a local kennel, but they weren’t cheap, and I didn’t yet know how long it would be required. At least Lily knew me, and the shoot was here in Yorkshire for at least another five days. After that, I’d think of something.
The terrier continued to follow as I collected a dog bed, more food and bowls, a couple of toys and her favourite sofa cushion, which Viv had pointed out to me. Lily was already in her coat, as I’d put it on this morning to go out in the cold, misty weather and hadn’t yet had a chance to remove it.
‘Up,’ I commanded, holding the boot open. Lily could still just about manage that height, and dutifully jumped inside. I clipped her in safely, collected Viv’s keys, locked up the house and set off for the hospital.
Lily wasn’t permitted inside, even though I tried to explain she was in fact Viv’s dog and would be valuable 14as emotional support. So, I had to take her back to the car and leave her in the boot, on top of her favourite cushion and under a blanket. I cracked open a rear window, mostly for air as there was little chance of overheating on this grey day, then hurried back inside the hospital to where Viv lay in a bed. She looked worryingly frail and thin in her nightgown.
‘What a nuisance,’ she said, typically stoic. ‘Slipped on a wet kitchen tile, and now here I am. Good thing I’m retired. If I was doing that film with you, some jumped-up pretty young thing would already be lobbying for my part.’
‘Less of the young and pretty if they wanted to replace either of us,’ I joked.
Viv grinned, then winced. ‘Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.’
‘Sorry. How long will you be in here for?’
‘No idea. Not sure if anything’s actually broken, yet.’
‘You mean they haven’t X-rayed you?’ I said, horrified. ‘Let me find a doctor. It’s outrageous, people our age should take priority, you might have multiple fractures or—’
‘Guinevere Tuffel, hush and sit down,’ Viv said, sounding uncannily like my mother. ‘There’s a queue for the machine, and I’m not going anywhere. I won’t keel over if they don’t see me in the next five minutes.’
‘No, you already did that,’ I grumbled, and held up the bag I’d packed. ‘I assume you’ll be here overnight, so I brought you this.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled, then hesitated. ‘Where did … I 15mean, did you ask any of the neighbours about …?’
I shook my head. ‘Lily can stay with me for a while. We’ve got another week of shooting here, and you should be back home by then.’ Unless she really had broken her hip, but I didn’t want to make that concern real by voicing it. If she was still in hospital by the time we finished filming in Hendale, Lily might have to go into kennels after all.
‘Let’s hope. Thank you, Gwinny. You’ll be fine with Lily; she’s a good judge of character.’
‘How so?’
‘She hates the neighbours for a start. But she likes you. What more proof do you need?’
I laughed. ‘That might explain why they weren’t exactly falling over themselves to look after her. I’d have had more luck flogging double glazing. But don’t worry, Lily will be fine with me at Hendale Hall.’
She shivered. ‘Horrible place. I don’t know why you can’t do it all on a sound stage.’
‘I’ve told you, it’s for publicity. The producer’s convinced that filming Draculania at the home of the Hendale Vampire is grist for the marketing mill. It had better be, considering how much they must be paying for the location.’
‘But what about the Hendale curse? Do you know the legend?’
‘The Viscount mentioned it when he gave us a tour. Something to do with India?’ I stopped Viv before she could launch into a recap of the story. ‘I’m sure they’ll give us a proper brief on it before we do any interviews. 16You relax and let the doctors sort you out, while I get Lily settled in at the Hall.’
‘Do they have their own dogs?’ Viv asked. ‘She gets on all right with big breeds, but you’ll want to keep her away from other terriers.’
I thought for a moment. ‘Now you mention it, I haven’t seen any. I’ll have to ask the Viscount. He might be able to help walk Lily, too.’ I sighed quietly.
Viv, sharp despite her pain, picked up on it. ‘Be easier if your fancy fella was here, wouldn’t it? The ex-copper, I mean. He could walk her for you.’
‘Birch,’ I laughed. ‘Alan Birch. He’s anything but fancy, and I wouldn’t call him “mine” either. At least, not yet. We’re getting there.’
‘What do you mean, “getting there”?’
‘Well, you know. Holding hands, cuddles in front of the telly.’
Viv winced again, chuckling. ‘Ow. I told you not to make me laugh. “Holding hands”? What are you waiting for, an arrest warrant? Oh, or is he into that sort of thing?’ She smiled wickedly. ‘Does he still have the handcuffs?’
‘You’re insufferable,’ I said, but appreciated that she was still able to make jokes from a hospital bed.
‘Seriously, Gwinny, don’t hang about. Your father may have lived to a good age, but most of them don’t. Believe me, I know.’ She did; Viv’s husband passed away less than two years after they moved to the Dales.
‘Don’t worry,’ I reassured her. ‘Birch is as fit as a fiddle, and we’re making progress. Slowly but surely.’ 17
‘Less of the slow and more of the sure. Before it’s too late, you hear?’ She smiled and took my hand. Her bones felt thin and delicate, like a bird’s. ‘Now go and be fabulous for the camera, and I’ll let you know the moment they have my results. Thank you for looking after Lily.’
I gave her hand a gentle squeeze and stood. She was right, I had to go, both to get to set and because I didn’t like leaving Lily in the car. I didn’t like leaving Viv here unattended, either.
‘So long as you’re sure,’ I said, looking around for a doctor again. Still nothing.
‘If anything goes wrong, I’m in the right place for it, aren’t I?’ she said with a grim smile. ‘Go on, and mind the bloodsuckers at Hendale. The flesh-and-blood kind, I mean.’
CHAPTER THREE
The fog threatened to return as I sped along the Dales’ roads, throwing the Volvo around corners to hurry back to Hendale Hall. Luckily, I’d made this journey twice a day for the past week, so knew it well by now. Even if I hadn’t, reflective signs tied to lampposts pointed to DRA – LOC, ensuring production vehicles wouldn’t get lost.
Every time I scraped a hedge or clattered over a pothole Lily grumbled in the back, and the car grumbled along with her. But they both held together until I finally crested Hendale itself to begin the descent to the estate, an extensive woodland park.
I was a few minutes later than I’d promised Steven, and production security at the gate waved me through. I drove under the avenue of oaks, around the lake and onward through the larch wood. Mist clung to the ground, forcing me to drive slowly and casting alternating shafts of light and shadow through the trees. 19
As I passed the old wooden gatehouse I saw what might have been creatures of the undead, shambling through fog to seek revenge upon the living, but it was only the carpenters and set decorators building a fake graveyard and crypt in preparation for our night shoots. Easy mistake to make, though.
Vampire legend aside, it wasn’t hard to see why Hendale Hall was our chosen location. The house was a seventeenth-century pile, a grand old building with spires, a tower and an ivy-covered west wing, surrounded by the park yet standing proud above it all. Forty bedrooms, half as many bathrooms, five different reception rooms, three dining rooms, two libraries, one ballroom, a grand staircase and more all made it a perfect setting for Draculania.
There was one more factor, though, that separated Hendale Hall from the many other big old houses around the country featuring spooky legends and alleged hauntings: the twenty-second Viscount Henning (full name Henry George Fitzroy Samuel de Finistere Henning, apparently) desperately needed money to keep the place afloat and so regularly hired it out for use by films, TV, fashion photographers, weddings, corporate functions, grand balls and anyone else who’d pay. He’d even made the bedrooms available to our cast and crew for a small additional fee, which producer Steven had jumped on eagerly as a way to save time and money. I was one of those staying at the Hall, hence my driving to and from Viv’s place to walk Lily. I could have had a production driver take me there and back every day, 20rather than use my own car, but that seemed wasteful.
I sympathised with the Viscount to an extent. If there had been room to swing even half a cat in my own house I’d have hired it out to finance the constant cash injections it required. But I was still embroiled in clearing the place of my late father’s things, which was slow going. Half the time I couldn’t bring myself to do it; the other half I couldn’t decide what to keep or throw out.
We’d been warned that Viscount Henning was a taciturn fellow who resented having to hire out his ancestral home to people like us, but we hadn’t seen that side of him at all. In fact he was quite enthusiastic about our film. I often spied him hovering at the edges of the set, watching the actors, particularly our glamorous leading lady, or chatting with crew. If that’s what it took in return for us getting the run of his house, nobody was complaining – least of all us older women, as the Viscount was something of a silver fox.
I manoeuvred around the wide, green wall erected in front of the visitors’ car park at the side of the Hall. It hid the production vehicles and trailers that formed our temporary unit base and acted as a giant ‘green screen’, which would help the special effects people remove it from exterior shots.
I found a parking spot, hopped out, opened the boot and clipped Lily on-lead. She immediately jumped out and dropped to the ground for a wee.
‘There you are,’ said a woman’s voice behind me. ‘Chloe’s been having conniptions, wondering where you are. When did you get a dog?’ 21
I turned to see two people smoking by the ‘tradesman’s entrance’ at the side of the house. I don’t know if that was the door’s real use, but our crew’s nickname for it had stuck. Smoking was forbidden inside the Hall, so those who indulged had to come outside for breaks. They were an odd couple: an older woman in formal Victorian dress and a handsome young man in jeans and T-shirt.
The woman was Ruby Westcott, dressed as Dr Abigail Van Helsing, and even in her grey-wigged costume as the distinguished doctor she remained glamorous. Ruby and I were the same age and had met early in our careers when we shared a storyline on Casualty. We’d also both had our native accents – mine London, hers Bristol – hammered out of us at drama school. But that was where our similarities ended. Ruby had continued working, while I’d retired to care for my father. I was five-foot-nothing, while she was five-seven even without heels. Most obviously, I’d foregone the surgeon’s knife while, at some point during those ten years we’d lost touch, Ruby had ‘a little work’ done. It was good work, no question, but she now had fewer wrinkles than when she was forty, which I couldn’t get used to.
The young man was Yash Rani, who played Luke Westenra in our gender-swapped production. The advantage of natural youth meant that even in a ratty old T-shirt, jeans and mud-stained trainers he looked like a pop star waiting to be mobbed by adoring fans. I’d never met Yash before this job; a decade ago his career had barely started. But he was a renowned and 22respected rising star, having moved easily from soap operas to the West End and films. What he was doing on a gig like Draculania I couldn’t fathom, but I wasn’t complaining about the positive effect it would have on our box office.
‘Didn’t Steven mention anything?’ I said to Ruby, picking out dog supplies with one hand while holding on to Lily with the other. ‘I called and left a message to tell him I’d be late.’
Ruby exhaled a cloud of smoke. ‘I can’t believe you’ve gone and bought a dog in the middle of shooting. Never took you for the furball-in-a-handbag type, Gwinny.’
‘No, it’s not like that at all. Lily belongs to Viv Danforth. She lives nearby, on her own these days, so I’ve been walking her dog. But this morning she slipped, so now she’s in hospital, and—’
‘Gwinny!’ called a voice. ‘For God’s sake, where have you been? Christ, you’re not even in costume. What the hell is that?’
I turned to see Chloe Churchill, our young director, alternately sputtering with rage and reeling with bewilderment at the sight of Lily and me. Chloe was another rising star, a young and diminutive Black woman whom you wouldn’t think formidable, especially with the voluminous pink bum bag she wore everywhere. But she was loud, self-assured and perpetually frustrated by the idiocy of everyone around her – in other words, born to be a director and no doubt destined for great success. First, though, she had to cut her teeth on jobs like Draculania. 23
‘That,’ I said, following her horrified gaze, ‘is Lily. She’s Viv Danforth’s dog, but Viv has been rushed to hospital, so I’m looking after Lily in the meantime, and I’ve just come from there myself. The hospital, that is—’
The terrier chose that moment to lunge at Chloe’s ankle, her teeth bared. ‘Lily, no!’ I shouted, pulling her away. So much for Viv’s insistence about her being a good judge of character.
‘You’re lucky Little Miss Sunshine is sulking in her trailer,’ said Chloe, ‘but she could change her mind at any moment, so you need to get into make-up stat. And don’t you dare bring that thing anywhere near my set.’
Little Miss Sunshine was the on-set nickname, though never in her presence, of Juliette Shine, the American star playing Draculania herself, which primarily reflected her reputation for tantrums. While Ruby and I were perennial supporting actors, Juliette was a Hollywood diva who’d starred in dozens of films. But she’d always fallen short of an Academy Award, and in recent years her star began to fade. No doubt that was why she’d agreed to take this role an ocean away from home, and unfortunately it showed. Oh, she was wonderful when the camera rolled, during those precious moments between the calls of ‘Action!’ and ‘Cut!’, but every other moment was more prickly than precious. Steven the producer had promised Juliette that Draculania would herald her career comeback, but she made no secret of her disdain for having to slum it in Yorkshire with the likes of us.
Ruby thought that was why Juliette made a habit 24of delaying shooting almost every day, but I suspected our star was simply nervous of her first leading role in years. Nevertheless, her antics risked extending the time we’d have to spend here at Hendale Hall, which made everyone else nervous. For my own part, I’d been hoping to spend my birthday next week at home in London. Every morning Juliette spent sulking in her trailer made that prospect increasingly unlikely.
‘I told you she’d be trouble,’ said Ruby, stubbing out her cigarette in a sand-filled planter beside the door. ‘Bloody Americans. Unprofessional, that’s what it is. Wouldn’t be so bad if her acting didn’t resemble boiled ham.’
Other than a nod of greeting to me Yash hadn’t yet said a word, merely wearing a wry smile as Ruby and I talked. Now he broke out into coughing laughter.
I rolled my eyes. Ruby had originally auditioned for the role of Draculania, and made no secret of her thoughts on Juliette being cast instead.
‘I’m sure you’d have been wonderful in a cape,’ I said, ‘but Juliette is brilliant, too. When she can be bothered to come to set.’ I turned to Chloe and indicated the dog equipment. ‘Which likely won’t be for a while yet, so give me ten minutes to get all this up to the bedroom and settle Lily in.’
‘Absolutely not,’ said Chloe, taking everything from my arms and dropping it all back in the Volvo’s boot. ‘I want you in make-up and wardrobe. If we’re still delayed after that, then you can sort out your mutt.’
Lily, no doubt sensing this animosity, let out three 25high-pitched barks at Chloe, who retreated nervously.
‘Fine,’ I said, slamming the boot closed. ‘You can explain to everyone why I’ve got a dog with me, then. Come along, Lily.’ I strode off towards the trailers, with the terrier in tow.
Ruby jogged after me, lifting her skirts. ‘I’ll take her while you’re in make-up,’ she said. ‘Tell me about what happened with Viv.’
I summarised the morning’s events. Like me, Ruby had known Viv for years and moved in the same circles. She and her ex-husband had even acted alongside Viv in Stratford for a few seasons.
‘Poor thing,’ she commiserated. ‘Is it really serious?’
‘I don’t know. They hadn’t X-rayed her when I had to leave, but if she’s broken something she’ll be in there for days. In the meantime, Lily’s staying with me.’
‘What, here at the Hall?’
‘Why not? She can stay in my room while I’m filming, and the estate’s perfect for walks when I’m not called. You’ll like that, won’t you, Lily?’
The terrier barked in response, and we continued on through the trailers.
Filming on location is expensive. Not that such things should be an actor’s concern, but producers make sure everyone knows it. So does the director, because whenever a show goes over budget it’s them who takes the blame.
In a studio, everything can be controlled. Weather and light are all faked, sets are built to accommodate camera movements, power is plentiful, and last-minute needs are easily found nearby because the production is 26surrounded by filmmaking infrastructure. Not to mention that everyone and everything is in the same place.
By contrast, on location all of those pros become cons. You’re at the mercy of real weather and daylight, you have to fit crew and equipment into places not built for them, power must be supplied by generators and batteries, support is miles away, and if you didn’t bring someone to set with you, getting them there at the last minute is time-consuming and expensive.
All of which explained why there were only half a dozen trailers at Draculania’s unit base: production, special effects, hair and make-up, wardrobe, the euphemistically named ‘honeywagon’, aka toilets, and a single talent trailer, for Juliette Shine. Other departments like rigging and electrical operated out of equipment trucks, and the remaining vehicles were production cars waiting to drive everyone around.
On the way to hair and make-up we passed Juliette’s trailer. The blinds were drawn over the windows, as usual, and all was quiet inside.
‘Ready for dressing at last, Gwinny?’
‘Needles’ Lloyd, the wardrobe manager, popped his head out of the costume trailer as I walked by. If you hadn’t known what he did on set, it wouldn’t take long to guess; Needles’ bright red glasses and spotted bow tie might conceivably belong to a director, but the ever-present measuring tape around his neck was a dead giveaway.
‘In a moment, darling,’ I replied. ‘Make-up first.’
‘My, you really are running late. Was he worth it?’ 27
‘Chance’d be a fine thing. See you in a tick.’
Ruby and I walked on to the hair and make-up trailer, where I passed her Lily’s lead and suggested she walk the dog around rather than standing and waiting. She did, and I prepared to mount the trailer’s metal entrance steps.
‘Stepping on!’ I called out. Nobody wants to be the reason an actor gets poked in the eye with a mascara brush, or jabbed with a needle, in the case of wardrobe, when the trailer wobbles.
‘It’s just us, Gwinny!’ called a voice from inside.
I entered to find Fi and Pri – Fiona and Priya, that is, but they came as a pair and went by abbreviations – taking a tea break.
‘We were starting to think you’d been taken ill,’ said Fi.
‘Close, but it’s not me.’ I removed my coat and sat in a chair before a brightly lit mirror. The other actors would have been in here hours ago, when I should have been with them. The ladies’ next appointment wouldn’t be until this afternoon, when Yash Rani would be made up as Draculania’s young victim Luke Westenra.
I recounted the situation with Viv once again, partly to make conversation but also with an ulterior motive. Hair and make-up is the nexus of all gossip on a film set. We actors spend hours in those chairs, often first thing in the morning when we’re trying to purge the real world from our minds to get ready for filming. I knew that explaining the truth about Lily’s presence to Fi and Pri would spread it around the crew faster than anything I could do. 28
‘Ooh, I love Jack Russells,’ said Fi, wrapping a bib around my neck. ‘We had one at home when I was a girl. Right little tearaway, he was. Couldn’t leave him alone for five minutes without him destroying a pair of Mummy’s shoes or chewing through a pillow. We loved him to bits.’
That was fairly typical of a Jack Russell owner. My father’s attitude towards Rusty had been similar, amply demonstrated when the dog decided the insides of Daddy’s favourite cushion would look much better on the outside and spread all over the lounge. I was furious, but my father merely tutted and put Rusty on his lap while I hoovered it all up.
I hoped Lily might be better behaved, especially given her age. There wasn’t much of mine to destroy in my room upstairs at the Hall, but it also contained plenty that wasn’t mine and I could hardly afford to replace anything valuable. This role wasn’t badly paid, but it was the first proper job I’d had in a while, and in the meantime I was treading water financially.
Still, I must remain grateful. Without this role I’d be doing even worse, and naturally I hoped it would lead to bigger and better things. I was under no illusions of landing a first-ever leading role at my age, but it was perfectly possible to make a living from good supporting characters. Draculania was hardly BAFTA bait, but it promised to make an impact and be seen by people in the industry.
Buoyed by my own internal pep talk, I took out my phone and, after a moment’s hesitation searching for 29the right app, made a video call. Right about now DCI Alan Birch, retired, would be either out walking his dog Ronnie or preparing to have lunch. He’d recently shown me how to make video calls, and I was enjoying feeling like part of the modern world.
‘Ma’am,’ he answered, looking a little flustered. ‘Sorry, wasn’t expecting you to call. Not the best time.’
Judging by the scene behind him Birch was at home in Shepherd’s Bush, but he didn’t seem to be preparing lunch; over his shoulder I saw his glass cabinet of police commendations, which meant I was looking at the lounge. His bristly moustache and lovely blue eyes filled the screen.
‘Sorry for the surprise, Birch. I’m in make-up, so I thought I’d say good morning. Wait, afternoon. You know what I mean. Hello, Ronnie,’ I added as Birch settled back on his couch and the big nose of his pet black Labrador loomed into view, sniffing at the screen. These video calls with Birch had become a regular feature while I was away filming, but no matter how many times it happened poor Ronnie couldn’t understand why he could hear my voice but not smell or see me nearby. Birch had tried holding the phone up to his face while I cooed at him but the Lab looked right through the screen, unable to connect the flat miniature image with me. On one occasion he’d tried to eat the phone. Like most Labs, he was adorable but not overly blessed with brain cells.
For a while I’d wondered if Birch suffered a similar deficiency when it came to reading people. Apparently, 30he’d been a good policeman and done the Met proud in his career, but it had taken the former detective much too long to realise I was attracted to him. Even when I wasn’t especially subtle about it.
Partly this was due to his wife, Beatrice, having passed away shortly after he retired, which left him somewhat rudderless. I’m not sure Birch would have coped without Ronnie to keep him engaged. When we first met he was still in mourning, despite several years having passed since Beatrice’s death. Nevertheless, we became good friends and even solved a couple of murders together, which had perked him up no end. But no matter how much I batted my eyelashes, it took him far too long to get the hint and finally take my hand.
Since then, we’d been … I’m not sure what people call it these days. Stepping out? Dating? I hesitated to think of us as ‘lovers’, because the most I’d got out of him so far were cuddles on the sofa. Not that I didn’t enjoy them, mind.
‘Viv had a scare this morning,’ I continued, once again relating the morning’s events. I left out the frantic rush to set and being almost bodily shoved into hair and make-up.
‘Glad all seems well. Good of you to take the dog, of course. So, um … filming today? Yes, of course you are, wouldn’t be in make-up otherwise. Silly question.’
I laughed, earning a tut from Pri as she worked on my eyebrows.
‘Yes, first it’s one of the confrontation scenes. That should be fun, watching Juliette chew every inch of the 31scenery. Then I get to watch her take dessert, in the hypnotic seduction scene.’ At least, I hoped Ruby and I would be allowed to sit in and watch. Juliette might be insufferable, but there was no questioning her talent. ‘What about you, Birch? Getting ready for lunch with Ronnie? Escape to the Country this afternoon, followed by a walk?’
‘Yes … I mean, yes. Absolutely. Nothing special. Definitely a perfectly normal day.’
It obviously wasn’t, but I wracked my brains in vain to think what it could be. As far as I could remember, today wasn’t the anniversary of his wedding to Beatrice, or of her death. Ronnie’s adoption day? Possibly, although I saw no reason Birch would be shifty about that. Something to do with his policing? He remained in touch with old colleagues, both those who’d retired like him and younger detectives still working at Scotland Yard.
But he clearly wasn’t going to tell me, and I was already getting none-too-subtle off-camera hints from Fi to wrap things up so she could get to work on my lips.
‘I’ll leave you to it, then. I have to be on set soon anyway. I’ll call you later.’
‘Right you are, ma’am. Look forward to it. Break a leg.’
I smiled at that. It had taken months for me to get him out of the habit of saying ‘Good luck’, but it had finally stuck, and the boyish satisfaction on his face when he got it right was adorable.
‘Wait, Birch, what—’ I stammered, as he fumbled with the phone to end the call. But it was too late, and the screen went black. 32
‘Why does he call you ma’am?’ asked Fi, reaching for a lip brush. ‘Sounds like he’s talking to a schoolteacher.’
‘Oh – more like a superintendent, actually,’ I said, distracted. ‘It’s an old habit from his police days. Birch is a man of routine.’
‘Likes you to boss him about, does he?’ said Pri. ‘It’s always the butch ones, isn’t it? Remember that wrestler, Fi, with the thighs? Oh, the stories we heard …’
They nattered away, but I wasn’t listening. I didn’t care about the secret kinks of film stars, because after a lifetime in showbiz little surprised me. I was busy thinking about what I’d seen when Birch ended the call. He’d manhandled his phone, searching for the right button, and the phone had tilted this way and that, changing the camera angle … so that in the last split-second I could have sworn I’d seen someone in the room with him.
Not just anyone, but my best friend.
What on earth was Tina Chapel doing at Birch’s house?
CHAPTER FOUR
Tina’s presence at Birch’s home preyed on my mind all through wardrobe, distracting me from Needles chattering about this and that while he and his assistant clipped and clamped my Dr Seward costume over me.
Don’t be fooled by elaborate lacing and fastenings on period film costumes. Much of the time they’re for show, with the clothing actually held on by hidden Velcro, studs and zips, not to mention the odd well-placed safety pin, for ease of getting in and out. Accurate pieces with real fastenings are used for close-ups or on-camera removal, but unless there had been drastic overnight script revisions, Dr Seward was blessedly free of bedroom scenes.
‘… so then Dracula settled down with a charming husband and adopted three children, and they all lived happily ever after.’
Somewhat to my surprise I was now fully dressed in bodice and skirts, facing a mirror while Needles stood ready to place my hat. 34
‘I’m sorry, what? Three children?’
‘Did I finally got your attention, duck?’ he said. ‘You’ve been spaced out since the moment you stepped inside. What’s up?’
‘I’m sorry, it’s my friend Viv. Took a fall, rushed into hospital. That’s why I have her dog. Actually, Ruby has her at the moment. Ask Fi and Pri; I told them all about it. Now, I’m due on set or I’ll suffer Chloe’s wrath.’
That wasn’t what I’d been thinking about at all, but it would satiate Needles’ desire for gossip. I held my head still while he fixed the hat with a pin.
‘I hope your friend’s all right,’ he said, giving me a final once-over. ‘Now don’t let me keep you. I’ve got to get ready for young Mr Rani, anyway.’
I detected a twinkle in his eye. ‘Your favourite part of the day?’
‘Oh, hush.’ He grasped my shoulders, turned me around, and marched me to the door while his assistant held it open. ‘You know you’re all my favourites. I’ll see you later.’
I stepped down from the trailer and had a moment of panic. Everything was suddenly grey and dim. Objects swam in and out of my vision. I could hardly see the other trailers, and couldn’t make out Ruby or Lily at all. Panic gripped me. Was I having a stroke?
Then I heard the terrier’s unmistakeable high-pitched bark nearby and I turned to see her emerge from the grey on her lead, with Ruby following. The morning fog had returned with a vengeance, thickening even now before my eyes. 35
‘Time to move,’ said Ruby. ‘Juliette just swanned past on her way to set at last.’
‘Are you sure it was her, in this fog?’
‘Unless the Hendale Vampire has started walking by day I don’t think anyone else is likely to be striding around in a collar and cape, do you?’
