can’t learn that true, street grit. You’re born with it. We wanted to inject some realism in the story… and you fitted the bill perfectly.’
Sitting back in her chair, almost to physically escape the pull of his charm, Rosie said, ‘So how involved will you be in the shoot?’
‘On a day-to-day basis, not very,’ he replied. ‘I will probably be on-set once or twice a month, depending on commitments. I’ll be more hands-on in the post-production, and keep an eye on the editing. I might give a few pointers, but only ever through Stella Evans, never directly. She’s a safe pair of hands.’
The waiter returned with their food, and Rosie watched as the Waldorf salad she had ordered was set down in front of her. In spite of how delicious it looked, she knew she was far too excited to manage more than a couple of mouthfuls.
‘The next subject I wanted to cover,’ Andrew continued, as the waiter reappeared with an enormous pepper mill, ‘is publicity. You were in EastEnders , so you’ll have a vague idea already of how much is going to come your way. Obviously, once it’s broadcast, public interest – and more to the point, media interest – will really intensify. My advice to you is to make a friend of the press. Be available, up to a point that’s reasonable. Be charming and accommodating, again within reason. But whatever you do, don’t lie to them. They’re a foxy lot and, if you do, they’ll find out. The last thing you want is for them to turn against you.’
He took a mouthful of food and poured them both some water.
‘I know what I’m saying is basic common sense,’ he went on, ‘and the publicist will go over it again this afternoon. I’m just keen to stress how important it is for you to start dealing with any skeletons that you might have in your cupboard now. A stitch in time saves nine, so to speak. Presuming you have some skeletons – and, let’s face it, most of us do – you could do yourself an enormous favour by outing them now, right at the beginning. That way, you should have nothing to fear from some slimy young hack who’s trying to get “the scoop of the year”.
‘Believe me, Rosie, once you step foot into the public arena, you open yourself and your family up to media scrutiny. Everything’s considered fair game.’
‘I see,’ said Rosie, deep in thought.
‘This is the point at which I invite you to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets,’ said Andrew, with a twinkle in his eye. ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. This is simply to get you to think about what I am saying, so you can assess the situation, before you start spilling the beans.’
‘There is one thing, Andrew, that I ought to mention,’ Rosie heard herself say.
‘Yes?’ Andrew tilted his head to one side, appearing neither shocked nor worried, just mildly intrigued.
‘It’s Ruby’s father. He’s in prison.’
‘Mmm, I see. Do you mind me asking what the offence was?’
‘Drugs,’ said Rosie, reluctantly. She knew that a drugs conviction has a certain stigma attached to it, and saying the word made her cringe.
‘What sort of drug offence? Are we talking serious? Misdemeanour?’
Rosie hunched her shoulders and shrunk back into her seat. This was excruciating, she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.
‘Serious, I’m afraid. Well, serious enough for him to be sentenced to eighteen years.’
‘Eighteen years!’ exclaimed Andrew, sitting bolt upright. ‘Goodness me!’
Almost too afraid to say the words, Rosie said, in a hushed whisper, ‘Yes, eighteen years, for drug importation.’
‘I see. Well, I’m sorry to say that this is exactly the sort of thing I was talking about. You should get it out right from the start. Tell the story your way, before someone jumps on the bandwagon and uses it for their own gain.’
‘Which is inevitable,’ she muttered, looking down at her barely touched plate of food.
‘I’m afraid it is.’
Suddenly, and violently,