Free Blushing at Both Ends by Philip Kemp Page B

complaining about minor details of costume or lighting, demanding retakes or added close-ups, generally getting on everyone’s wick. ‘Who’s she think she is?’ I heard one disgruntled grip ask another. ‘Julia sodding Roberts?’
    To make things worse, she was a hopeless timekeeper. An eight o’clock call, to Luci, meant 8.45 – if we were lucky . I suspected that her years as a supermodel, with everyone kowtowing and deferring, had spoilt her. Maybe in the rag trade they don’t mind that kind of thing so much. But in the movies delay can do horrendous things to your budget. You’ve got actors and technicians stacked up in holding patterns, all highly paid, and the costs are ballooning by the second. So at the end of the first week I took her aside and tried to explain this. She tossed her tawny-blonde head with an ‘Oh what a
fuss
’ sigh, and muttered something offhand about the traffic.
    â€˜Come on, Luci,’ I retorted, ‘don’t give me that shit. There’s a limo waiting for you at six thirty every morning, and Jim’s one of the most reliable drivers in the business. If you’re late, it’s not the traffic, it’s
you
.’
    She looked at me with those beautiful grey-green eyes as if I’d crawled out from under something unsavoury. With an effort I held my temper. ‘OK, Luci,’ I said, ‘enough already. From now on you’re here at eight on the dot every morning, OK?’
    â€˜Whatever,’ she said, and swanned off.
    Monday morning. Eight thirty came, and nine . . . and still no Luci. To fill in we started rehearsing the takes scheduled for after lunch, but everyone knew what the trouble was. I glimpsed Hugh, a professional if ever there was one, raising one sculpted eyebrow in exasperation. Any moment now he’d be calling his agent, wanting out – and then we really
would
be in deep doo-doo.
    Finally, just before nine thirty she showed. Looking – just to make it all the more infuriating – drop-dead gorgeous.
    â€˜Sorry,’ she said airily. ‘Overslept.’ She shot me a sidelong glance as if to say, ‘And just what do
you
intend to do about it, lowlife?’
    That did it. ‘OK, everyone, break till ten,’ I announced. ‘Luci, I’d like to see you in my office, please.
Now
.’
    Two minutes later she was sitting across from me on the couch, those lovely long legs crossed, one impeccably moulded kneecap pointed at me like the muzzle of a pistol. Her attitude radiated disdain, but underneath I sensed insecurity and need. For all her outward sophistication, I reminded myself, she was only 23.
    â€˜OK, Lucinda,’ I began. ‘First off, let me make one thing clear – you’re not indispensable to this movie. Not by a long shot. You may be numero una in the rag trade, but here you’re just another first-timer with no track record. Time enough to act the prima donna when you’ve earned it. As it is you’re in gross breach of contract, and I’m well within my rights to fire you right now.’
    â€˜You can’t,’ she protested. ‘I’ve shot all those scenes. You’d have to –’
    â€˜Reshoot them all with another actress? I know. But I’ll be happy to do that. In the long run it’ll be less hassle and, assuming she’s more professional than you – which ain’t difficult – probably quicker. We’ll wrap the movie OK, don’t you worry. But your film career, Luci, will be down the pan. When it gets round how you behaved on this shoot, no reputable production company will touch you with a ten-foot boom. It’s back to the catwalk for you, my girl.’
    By now she was starting to look worried. ‘But I want to act – I really do! And I know I can! You wouldn’t believe how boring modelling is! Look, Leo, I’m sorry I’ve been such a useless bitch. I’ll