Page 85 of The Start of Something Wonderful

‘Yep, yep, not bad … check the gate … okay,everyone, thank you. It’s a wrap!’

* * *

Back at The Glenfoyle B&B that evening, I lie in the bath, the warm water soothing my aching feet and grazed knees. I blow away the foam from my downy legs. I stretch a dripping arm across for my toiletry bag, and ferret to the bottom in search of my Ladyshave. Flicking the razor back and forth, my taut face cracks into a wide grin as I replay today’sblooper in my mind, and wonder if one day it might be salvaged from the cutting room floor and reappear onIt’ll Be Alright on the Night.At least I was wearing the 1940s’ version of Bridget Jones’s big pants and not anything too skimpy.

One of the highlights of today was meeting Oona. Women like her are an inspiration: comfortable in their own skin, living life to the max, still taking onnew challenges, and doing exactly what they want, and not according to some ageist rule book.

There’s a ceilidh at the local pub tonight, and Senga from hair and make-up has invited me along. I think she feels a bit sorry for me because of the bicycle incident, and it being my first day and all.

I haul myself out of the bath, hobble over to the bed, and look at tomorrow’s filming schedule.My pick-up time is 0630 for various crowd scenes. I wonder if I’ll be required to do the withered or the firm gaze. I practise both in the wardrobe mirror.

I glance at the clock. All I want to do now is run a bath, pull on my jammies, order a takeaway, grab a quarter bottle of wine from the mini bar, and point the remote at the telly for the concluding part of theTaggartrepeat.Last night’sepisode ended with DS Jackie Reid in a deserted multi-storey car park. It’s late, and just as she’s about to drive off, a man in a balaclava pops up and, holding a gun to her head, says, ‘Don’t scream. Just do what I tell you …’

I was almost certain that voice belonged to Ed fromThree Sisters,but the end credits rolled by so fast I couldn’t catch the actor’s name. Now I’ll never know.

The moment I open the door to leave, Mrs McKechnie pops out of her private sitting room.

‘All right, dearie? You’re awfy late the night. Can I fix you a wee bit o’ tea?’

‘No, thanks, Mrs McKechnie, I’ve got to fly, I’m going …’

‘Och, you cannae go out without something tae eat.’

‘No, really, I …’

‘I think the others are away oot already.’

‘Yes, and I’m late,’ I say pointedly,as I sidle towards the front door.

‘Tell you what – I’ll leave out some cheese and crackers and a wee slice of Dundee cake for your supper. My Ewan loved that cake. No wonder he was sae fat,’ she says, chuckling.

I’ve reached the porch – only a few more steps and I’m home and dry.

‘I still go to visit his sister, Aggie, on Arran. She’s on her own tae. We were thinking of going to Spainnext spring, but she’s worried her feet’ll puff up wi’ the flight.’

I’ve now made it to the door.

‘It’s an awfy shame, but she cannae walk that well noo.’

The phone rings.

‘Och, I bet that’s her. We’re telepathetic.’

THANK YOU, AGGIE!

* * *

Sucking in a deep breath and my stomach, I enter the swing doors of The Tam O’Shanter pub. I duck and dive my way past the mazeof whirling revellers, in search of Senga et al.

‘Yoo-hoo, Emily! We’re over here!’

I weave my way over to the large table, where the crew, some of the actors, and make-up and wardrobe girls are seated.

Before I’ve a chance to sit down, Senga drags us all up to the dance floor to join in with Drops of Brandy.Admittedly I did a bit of Scottish country dancing at school, but being tall,had always to take the role of the man, so a fat lot of good that is to me now. Senga and the locals do their level best to steer us in the right direction, but we are hopeless, like dodgem cars, colliding with one another and causing multiple pile-ups. I’ve got a stitch in my side, but just when you think it’s all over, that diddley-diddley music has a nasty habit of going round and round andround again and again – and again.

Finally it stops, and we stagger back to our table, gasping for air.

‘Everyone enjoying themselves?’ comes a gravelly Scottish burr behind me.