Page 51

I gave myself one year. One year to ‘make it’ before I packed it in for good and got a job flogging insurance or office supplies or something in a depressing, solid nine to five.

One year. That’s it. Then obviously, one year turned into two and two into two and a half and so on and so forth until I ended up here, four years later a jack-of-all-trades at the bottom of the film industry ladder willing to be paid in meals and experience .

The film isn’t a bad one. It’s a surreal short about a woman who’s being stalked by her past self and — yeah, okay it’s not great.

At least it’s a job. A job in the middle of nowhere with fourteen hour days and a two-hour commute there and back.

So what if I have to stuff extra bread rolls from the soup at lunch into my backpack so I can eat some form of dinner?

It’s experience. So what if I have to take a four hour round trip to pick up a smoke machine last minute and pay five hundred pounds out of pocket just to be told it’s no longer necessary ?

It’s experience. Experience I need if I want to get anywhere close to fulfilling my dreams .

I just really didn’t think the final tether holding my dream in my hand would be a power cord connected to a smoke machine.

“Yeah, we don’t need that anymore. The director says it

would make the scene look too cheap.” The producer, Beth, tells me.

I really didn’t think I’d give up on my dream on a foggy afternoon in Kent but standing in the middle of the forest with an apparently redundant smoke machine, is evidently enough to tip me over the edge.

A burst of laughter comes out of me. “You’re joking.”

In my university days, I would have held it together until I found my best friend Rosie on set and ranted to her about the audacity of sending me on a fool’s errand in the middle of shooting.

Rosie, of course, is nowhere near the outskirts of Kent since she had walked into a job in a post- production house the day after graduation.

I wasn’t jealous when Rosie was offered her job, we were going to be in different departments after all, but I couldn’t help feeling bitter thinking about her glamorous city life working on the next wide-release feature while I’ve been stuck working for pennies on under-funded shorts.

“No,” she says, turning her attention back to her iPad.

I close my eyes. After more late nights than I could count, over a hundred hours of driving and likely the same amount of pilfered bread rolls, I’ve had enough.

“That’s it.” I slam the smoke machine on the floor. “Fuck this. I’m out.”

That makes Beth look up. “You what?”

“I quit. This is so not worth it. Find someone else to be your errand bitch. I’m basically a glorified delivery person.”

Beth says nothing, her mouth slightly parted. “You can’t quit, we haven’t hired you. ”

I laugh, slightly manically. “ I know. ”

I grab the smoke machine from the ground and walk away, finally feeling a weight fall off my shoulders. I’m going to go home, order a takeaway, drink a whole bottle of wine and watch a property development show.

“Wait!” I hear Beth shout from behind me. I don’t stop.

“Do you know anyone in the market for a smoke machine?” I ask Rosie, holding my phone between my cheek and shoulder as I unceremoniously throw the forsaken thing on my passenger seat and start the engine.

“Why are you selling a smoke machine?” Rosie laughs.

“I’ve rented it for three days and I am not driving back to fucking Slough anytime soon.” I sigh as I put my foot down, my little car already spluttering from the miles I’ve already put it through today.

“Okay, I feel like I am missing some very important pieces of information here.”

I fill her in on my day from hell, gripping the wheel with both hands and trying to concentrate on the drive.

“You need to stop settling for crummy experience jobs, Annie,” Rosie says after I finish my story, using the nickname she gave me in our first week as housemates in first year. “You need to aim higher.”

“I am aiming higher,” I protest. “It’s just no one higher wants me.”

“No, we are not having any of that self-pitying bullshit today, missy.” Rosie scolds.

I groan and rest my palm on my forehead.

“I can’t not drown in self pity at the moment.

I feel like everyone is already where they need to be and I am still basically at the same point in my career as I was when I was nineteen.

I think I need to get used to the fact that I peaked in uni and pack it in. ”

Rosie sighs.“Have you started drinking already?”

“I wish.”

Rosie laughs.“Okay, first of all, don’t give up yet. One shitty

job —”

“Many shitty jobs. In a row!”

“Okay, fine, many shitty jobs do not mean you are a shitty filmmaker. Besides, you want to direct your own. Why don’t you make your own film?”

I pout. That is a solution I had been playing with for months but I’d been making people’s low-budget, non commissioned shorts for years now and they’re always terrible.

I want to direct my own film, sure, but I’d want to at least be commissioned for a mid-budget feature and not a kickstarted short.

I can’t get commissioned without at least having my name on a successful production and I can’t get on a successful production without already being on a successful production.

Besides, there was the stubborn voice in the back of my head that liked to question whether I even really wanted to direct anymore, but I wrote that off as insecurity and stamped down on it whenever it cropped up.

“I just — ugh, just let me moan for a bit before I start thinking about all of that. I’ve mainly got to figure out how my landlord will accept the bread rolls I’ve been paid in as rent. I’m going to be out by next week.”

Rosie laughs. “Okay, why don’t you come stay with me for a bit, just to get you on your feet. You can sleep on the couch and earn some money in the pub over the road and then reassess whether you want to pack it in and go home.”

“Would you actually?” I ask quietly .

“Babe, I’ve been dying for you to come crash here since I moved in,” Rosie says.

“You’re so good to me you know that?”

“I know, I get funding from the government for supporting the sad and unemployed.”

After we hang up and my breakdown starts to progress into a slightly throbbing headache, I feel a little bit lighter. I might not have solved all of my issues tonight but at least I have a semi-plan. And that nagging voice in the back of my head can shut up.

Three weeks later I’m all moved into Rosie’s London flat.

And by moved in, I mean my two suitcases are open at the end of the bed and I spend my time rummaging for clean underwear.

Rosie has even managed to get me a few shifts at The Old Crown working behind the bar for a cheery old man named Steve.

It’s not the nine-five routine I imagined as my backup but at least the money lining my bank account is relatively steady.

Plus, it’s better than standing outside in the freezing cold with a smoke machine (which I returned… eventually).

I still feel that nag of something — definitely not jealousy — when I see Rosie leave in the morning in her stylish work wear on her way to her cushty production house in Soho, but I’m making money and getting back on my feet.

On one of my only Friday nights off, I’m waiting for Rosie to come home so I can open the bottle of vodka in my suitcase without feeling extremely alcoholic. Checking my phone for an update on my temporary roommate’s ETA, I glance at the exchange we shared earlier.

Rosie

Send me your CV

Me

Why

Rosie

Send it and I’ll tell you why

Me

CV.dox

Why do you need my cv

Why

Rosie

Why

Using my closed laptop as a table, I paint my nails whilst watching a rerun of the Robin Carlson Show .

Jackson Harper is on making everyone laugh on the press tour for the new action blockbuster Starboard Bound , a film about the hijacking of a big boat, or cruise ship or whatever.

He’s joined by his co star Danny Covington who sits sulkily lapping up Harper’s jokes and barely answering questions with more than two words. Spoilsport , I think bitterly.

“Honey, I’m home.” Rosie shouts from the door as she kicks it shut behind her. “I brought food. Don’t tell Steve because I got it from the Chinese place down the road and I don’t want him to hate me.”

I stand with a mock gasp and move into the kitchen, “Not the Golden Dragon, Rose. They’ve been competing for months. The amount of fliers I’ve already had to hand out over there is going to give me carpal-tunnel. ”

“Well, we’ll hide the packaging so he will never need to know,” Rosie says, pulling out boxes of noodles.

“What’s the occasion, anyway? You never order in.” Unlike me, Rosie is a healthy person and believes having more than one meal a day of entirely processed and salted foods is bad for you.

“We’re celebrating,” Rosie says promptly.

I crunch my brow as I shovel egg fried rice into my mouth

directly from the container. “Wha arr ee selebrashing?” Rosie dishes up her food and grabs a wine bottle from the rack before we head back to the couch.

I wait for Rosie to tell me what we are celebrating, but instead she pours two glasses of wine. She hands one to me with one hand and snatches my plate away with the other, gently placing it on the coffee table as I’m still trying to stab a piece of broccoli with my fork.

“Oh my god, why bring food if you won’t let me eat it?” I ask.

“ Because ,” says Rose, “I am trying to tell you why we’re celebrating.”

“Okay, hit me.”

“Our house just finalized a deal with Gwendoline Marcs.” Gwendoline Marcs is an up-and-coming director.

They say up-and-coming but she has already had a few nods for her last and first feature And Then They Met and there are rumors she has another project lined up.

She started directing when she was younger than me and now in only her mid-thirties, she’s basically established herself as the next Scorsese in the making. I am, reasonably, obsessed with her.

“Oh my god Rose.” I hug her. “That is so cool”

She grins. “I know we are all so buzzed. Grant brought us a round of drinks at lunchtime to celebrate. But that’s not why we are excited tonight.”

“What could possibly be more exciting than you working with Gwendoline Marcs?”

Her grin grows. “ You working with Gwendoline Marcs.”

I laugh. “As if.”

“I am deadly serious.”

The look in her eyes makes the laughter on my lips fade.

“Wait— huh?”

Rosie tries to smother the grin on face, but her sparkling eyes give her away.

“I don’t know too much about the film yet, today was just an excuse for a piss-up.

But basically from what I can tell it’s being filmed exclusively in France and the main actor is a complete nightmare.

It’s all under NDA so no juicy details —although I bet they’re a real diva. ”

I wait for Rosie to take a swig of her wine, vibrating with apprehension.

“ Anyway ,” she continues, “apparently they’re looking for a PA/assistant/runner person.”

I gasp, “I’m a PA/assistant/runner person.”

“I know,” Rosie cackles. “So I was like, ‘that’s crazy my best friend is currently looking right now.’”

I am on top of the world.

“But they said no.”

I fall, pitifully, back to earth.

“But then they said that they needed a French speaker.” And I’m up again. “I speak French!”

“I know!” Rosie laughs. “I told them you are fluent and half

French and have a French passport and everything and guess what?”

“What?” I ask breathlessly, already knowing my best friend is going to pull through for me .

“They wanted to see your CV.”

“ Shut the fuck up. ” I jump to my feet “Where’s my CV?”

Rosie laughs. “You literally sent it to me earlier.”

“You didn’t tell me it was for Gwendoline Marcs, I didn’t even double check it!”

“I looked at it before I sent it. Relax.”

I place my hands over my pounding heart. “You did not do this for me.”

“Of course I did this for you, have you met me? I’m amazing.”

I laugh. “You are. If you get this for me I will marry you so you can have your EU passport.”

“You were already going to do that, I was just waiting for

the ring.”

I laugh but say quietly. “This is—this is a lot right now.”

I can feel Rosie smirking but don’t look at her, instead I put

my wine glass down and cover my face with my hands.

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

Thwack.

“What was that for?” I raise my hands against another pillow onslaught.

“Of course you can do it, you muppet! You’re on the ball, you’re great with cast and crew and you speak French . If you waste this opportunity because you’re scared I will never speak to you again.”

I groan. “But what about my job with Ste? —”

Thwack.

“If you dare consider turning this down for that goddamn

takeaway shop downstairs I will murder you in your sleep,” Rosie hisses between hits .

“Fine! Would you —ow— would you stop that? It’s just — whew, you know?” I breathe.

Rose exhales and loops her arm around my shoulders. “Okay, take a deep breath. I think this is your shot. You’ve got

this Annie, I can feel it. This is gonna be it for you.”

I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. I can imagine myself on set with a headset and clipboard, shouting at people to get to where Gwendoline Marcs needs them to be.

I’ll bring her coffee and she’ll say, ‘ thanks Anya, good job’ and then she’ll take me under her wing, mentor me until she eventually says in her Oscar’s acceptance speech “I wouldn’t be here today without the support of Anya Bonnet. ”

“Yes. Okay, yes, you’re right. This is my shot.”