‘It’s rock and roll, for Christ’s sake!’ He paused, looking a trifle anxious. ‘You can sing, can’t you?’
I threw back my head and gave him the first four lines of ‘Bonnie Mary of Argyll’. ‘Where do we shoot?’ I asked him.
‘Location in Chicago and New York, beginning October: sound-stage work in Toronto. Wrap by year-end.’
I nodded approval. I’d never been to Chicago, but New York and Toronto are two of my favourite cities. ‘How much are we getting?’
‘The same: seven million euros, and that’s settled. They came in offering six, but they rolled over quick when I told them what you cost now. Plus they’ll find you an apartment in Toronto for the duration of the project. It’s an easy commute to NYC and across the lakes to Chicago.’
I looked at Susie. ‘Autumn in Canada?’ She smiled; she really was getting to like being a movie star’s wife. ‘Not an apartment,’ I told Roscoe. ‘Make it a family house, and big enough for Ethel the nanny, plus Conrad and Audrey. Conrad goes everywhere we do.’
‘Okay, I’ll tell the producers. I’ve got the script for that too: you should start on it right away.’
‘I’ll look at it. Who’s directing?’
‘A guy called Weir Dobbs. It’s his first big project.’
Nothing he had told me, not even the fact that he had jacked my fee up to a level I thought was stratospheric, surprised me more than that. ‘Who cast me?’ I asked.
‘He did. He called me himself: told me that after Red Leather he wasn’t doing the movie without you.’
I whistled softly. Weir Dobbs and I had a history: he had been Miles Grayson’s assistant director on the first movie I ever made and for a time we had not got on. We had so not got on that in the midst of one difficult session I had bounced him several times off a studio wall. Now he just had to have me in his picture. .
Looking back, I realise that was the moment when I finally accepted what I was, and what I’d become, and understood that my career had attained a momentum that was indeed out of my control, for that time at least.
I put away the thought. ‘You’ll give me a schedule?’
‘Of course.’
‘Have a separate session with Audrey on that, please: she manages my diary completely these days.’
Roscoe nodded. ‘Will do, Oz. Now, the other two projects I mentioned, those I’m going to recommend you turn down: let’s discuss them.’
I held up a hand. ‘No, let’s not. You’ve steered me straight on the three positives. I’ll trust your judgement on the others.’
‘You sure?’
I stood up and stretched out my hand. As he shook it I told him, ‘You have our complete confidence, mine and Susie’s. I hear what you’ve said to me and I appreciate your coming all this way to say it. But that’s enough shop for now: we’re going to take you to lunch, and you’re going to tell us all about your family.’
Chapter 3
We took him to the Buchanan Arms, an old-established eatery not far from our place. It turned out that he has one son from a marriage that ended in divorce around the time I became his client.
He talked happily about Roscoe junior all through lunch, until his voice began to slur and his eyes became heavy. He put it down to the jet-lag catching up with him (and passing him at high speed in the outside lane), but I reckoned at the time that I should have talked him out of that pint of cask-conditioned ale. In my experience, some Americans just can’t handle our beer at all.
A couple of hours’ sleep in the afternoon sorted him out, though. In the evening he and Audrey mapped out my schedule for the three projects I’d agreed to do. It looked good: I wasn’t due in Toronto for three months. I had a couple of promotional things coming up for the latest Skinner movie, but for now mostly it would be quality time I could spend at home with Susie and the kids.
My wife and I saw Roscoe on his way next morning. This time I did the driving to the airport, just to let him see that I knew I owed him. I promised that I would look at the scripts and sign all the contracts the minute I received them. As we waved him goodbye, heading off for the departure lounge, I looked around. ‘You know,’ I said to Susie, ‘I always hate being here without my passport in my pocket. It gives me wanderlust. D’you fancy going somewhere?’
‘Just like that?’
‘More or less.’
‘Yes, but we’re not going to. Janet’s a bit young to be a jet-setter and wee Jonathan’s teeth would make life fractious for everyone around him.’
‘That’s true,’ I conceded. ‘The wee sod bit me the other day. They’re like bloody razors when they’ve just come through.’
She gave me a funny sideways look. ‘Would you really have turned down all that money for the kids and me?’
‘No …’
‘Aah,’ she said, ‘so you were just acting Mr Big.’
‘… I’d have turned it down for me as well,’ I added. ‘I’m not comfortable being public property, Sooz. I never planned for any of this to happen. It just did, and now it’s acquired a momentum of its own. But I can’t stop it; I see that now. What Roscoe said was true, too many people are involved with me right now.’
‘It won’t be for ever, love. In the meantime. .’ She paused in mid-sentence.
A fat middle-aged man in a business suit stepped up to me, right into my face, ignoring her completely. ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ he began. I did, but he didn’t give me a chance to tell him that. ‘I don’t normally do this sort of thing, Mr Blackstone, but my wife is a huge fan of yours. Could I have your autograph for her?’
His accent was posh Greater London: since I’ve been an actor I’ve become quite good at spotting them. He put down his briefcase and produced a Mont Blanc fountain pen and a diary from an inside pocket of his jacket, giving me a flash of its red lining. This was not clothing that had come off the peg at a discount store.
‘Are there Brownie points in this for you?’ I asked him.
‘Thousands.’
‘Do you need them?’
He blinked, taken aback. ‘Well, you know,’ he chuckled, tamely, ‘it never does any harm.’
‘What’s your secretary’s. . sorry, your wife’s name?’ The speed with which he flushed up told me that I’d hit the mark.
‘Lou-Lou,’ he replied, and spelled it out for me.
I took the pen and the diary, opened it at a blank page for notes, and scribbled, ‘To the lovely Lou-Lou, from your devoted fan, Oz Blackstone.’ I closed it and returned it to him. I made to put the Mont Blanc in my pocket. He flinched but said nothing: I think he’d have let me keep it, if I hadn’t grinned and handed it back to him. ‘Hope it does you some good,’ I told him. ‘Have a nice trip, Mr. .’
‘Potter,’ he said.
‘Accountant?’
He looked sheepish. ‘Well, yes, actually. It’s that obvious?’
‘It’s the suit, mate; that, and the fact that your firm’s name’s embossed in gold on the cover of your diary. I used to be a sort of detective: as I was saying to my wife, sometimes I wish I still was.’
‘Sometimes I wish I was one too. Thank you for your patience, and good luck with your career.’
I was hit by a spur-of-the-moment impulse. ‘Do you have a card, Mr Potter?’
He looked surprised for a second, but then good business instincts kicked in. He produced one from his wallet and handed it over. I saw that his forename was Henry, but I decided not to go there. Instead I asked if I could use his pen again. I noted my private phone number on it, then handed both back.
‘I need to do some very serious financial planning,’ I told him, ‘and I’d rather use London-based advisers than Scots, for a different perspective. I’ve heard good things about your firm, so if you want to tender for the project. . in competition, of course. . have someone give me a call.’
His chest seemed to puff out: I could tell that I’d made his morning for the second time in as many minutes.
‘I will,’ he exclaimed. ‘Thank you very much.’
Susie watched him as he headed for the exit. ‘Why did you do that?’ she asked. ‘Did you feel sorry for taking the piss out of him about his secretary?’