and made much of. At the bottom of the escalator she came to a corridor with another off it at right angles. Illuminated signs indicated ‘Red Assembly’ and ‘Make-up Department’.
Claire could hear sounds of chatter and laughter coming from within. Her heart started to beat a little faster. She approached the door clutching her handbag and script to her, and entered. She stood there for a few moments before anyone noticed her. The make-up room was long and narrow, and the walls were hung with mirrors surrounded by fluorescent lights. The long uninterrupted worktop that went the full length of the room was covered in powder puffs, make-up brushes, jars, bottles, little round pots of pencils, sponges, combs, heated rollers and every known aid to beauty. In front of the mirrors, at regular intervals, were six chairs of the type used by dentists. Actors and actresses were sitting in these, being tended by make-up artists – Claire’s harridans – who were clad in crisp pale blue overalls and seemed to be on very good terms with their victims.
A young man, nearest to the door, observed Claire’s entrance through the mirror.
‘Well, hello!’ he said cheerily. ‘Look what’s just walked in, everyone.’
Claire stood uncomfortably. ‘Hello,’ she said, trying to overcome her shyness.
The make-up girl nearest her, who was tending the young man, turned around with no hint of welcome in her face.
‘Yes?’ she enquired imperiously. ‘Can we help you?’
Claire took a deep breath. She knew she had to start as she meant to go on.
‘I’m Claire Jenner,’ she announced loudly. ‘I’m playing Sara Harper – I’ve come for a make-up test.’
The entire room came to a stop. The rest of the make-up girls were arrested in mid-operations to stare at the interloper, whilst the cast members turned as one to eye her with ill-concealed curiosity.
‘Hello, dear – very pleased to meet you,’ said Meg immediately, with great warmth.
‘Hello,’ replied Claire gratefully. ‘And I you,’ and she smiled back at her.
‘And a very attractive addition to the cast, if I may say so,’ said the young man suavely, swivelling round in his chair to face her, stretching out his hand. ‘I’m Simon Lavell, welcome aboard.’ Claire took the proffered hand.
‘Thank you. I’m really glad to be here,’ she said trying to believe it.
‘And we’re very glad to have you, love,’ called Reg from the far end in his homely Northern accent. He played George, the restorer in the series, and husband of the character played by Meg. ‘You’ll liven things up, I shouldn’t wonder. Could do with a new bit of blood.’
Claire laughed, and coloured slightly.
‘Hello, Claire, I’m Amy,’ said a rather pretty brunette with gamine looks, laughing eyes, and hair cut in a bob with a heavy fringe. Claire remembered that Amy played Sophie Longthorn, the receptionist for the McMasters’ rather grand premises.
Also sitting being made up, but too shy to speak, were Frederick Derby, an older actor in his late seventies, who supplied the aristocratic element in this very British television series, and Jason Wright. He played Billy, the boy in the workshop who was responsible for the packing of valuable items. These two turned to smile at Claire. She smiled happily back. At least they all seemed pleased enough to see her. Particularly Simon Lavell. He was still eyeing her in a critical way. The make-up girl who had greeted her so coldly now took charge of the situation.
‘We’re not ready for you yet – we’re in the middle of a recording, you know.’
Claire blushed in spite of herself. ‘I was told to be here at four thirty,’ she said with as much courage as she could muster.
‘By whom?’ asked the termagant.
‘Sonia, Sonia asked me to be here at four thirty,’ insisted Claire, anger starting to rise at this public humiliation.
‘She’s on the floor doing Patsy’s retake, wouldn’t you know,’ said Simon, jerking a thumb in the direction of a large monitor that was affixed to the wall about a couple of feet down from the ceiling. Everyone glanced up at the monitor. The sound had been turned off and there was indeed evidence of a retake of a scene in progress. The screen was filled with huge close-ups of Patsy Hall. Claire looked at her curiously. She had a low opinion of Patsy’s acting ability, although she conceded that she was a lovely-looking girl. She seemed to be looking vacant at the moment, as though unsure of what to do next.
‘Look at her,’ said Simon contemptuously. ‘She hasn’t a bloody clue.’
Claire was astonished at this blunt dismissal of a fellow actor, but said nothing.
‘Get it right, love!’ he jeered at the screen, as it became apparent that the scene was being shot yet again. ‘We all want to go home tonight!’ The rest of the room laughed uproariously, even kind Meg and Reg. Plainly, Patsy was the company joke. Someone turned the sound up and after another attempt, Patsy got it right and the whole make-up room cheered. Except Claire, who was genuinely appalled by the goings-on.
The camera that had been trained on Patsy swerved off her and came to rest on an out-of-focus picture of the set doorway as Larry Matthews listened to instructions on his headphones from the director.
‘Yes, yes, oh thank Christ,’ said Larry in a relieved tone to the empty doorway. ‘It’s a clear everyone.’
Another cheer went up from the make-up room. Suddenly the door burst open and Bella erupted into the room.
‘God give me strength!’ she exclaimed, making for the nearest chair. Simon hurriedly vacated it. Bella collapsed noisily into its leather cushions.
‘Where did they find her?’ she said dramatically. ‘They never told us about this at the Academy.’
‘Of course they did. Didn’t you ever do improvisation classes – where you had to make love to a lamppost?’ asked Simon. ‘I know we did.’
‘I must have been away that day,’ muttered Bella, picking up a brush and tapping furiously with it on the table. It was obvious that she was in a foul mood, the result of trying to act opposite Patsy. Simon decided to create a diversion.
‘What am I thinking of? Bella, my love, you haven’t met the latest addition to this remarkable series, Claire Jenner!’
Bella swivelled round in astonishment, seeing Claire for the first time. She wreathed her face in smiles.
‘My dear,’ she said graciously, ‘how lovely. We’ve been so looking forward to your arrival. Welcome!’ And she rose majestically from her seat to meet Claire who had moved towards her. Bella embraced her warmly, then held her at arm’s length to view her the better.
‘Well, this is an improvement. I’m glad to see that Hugh hasn’t completely taken leave of his senses. You’re much more what The McMasters is about – class! You are extremely welcome!’ And she gave Claire’s upper arm an encouraging grip, then released her, turned abruptly to the chair again and flung herself into it.
‘Now, Glynis dear, what the fuck are we going to do about my face? Trying to act opposite that ghastly little tramp has completely ruined my make-up!’
The door opened again and the object of her ire wandered in disconsolately. She was followed by an attractive brunette, who was looking anxious.
‘Sonia, my pet, you’re late for our new member – what will she think of us?’ said Simon teasingly to the late arrival.
‘Oh, I’m sooo sorry,’ said Sonia breathlessly to Claire.
‘Please, it’s all right, I think I was early,’ replied Claire hurriedly, anxious to establish good relations with the woman who held her future success in her hands.
‘It’s just – that we got held up,’ continued Sonia in a confidential