'There's a rumor going around that Darleen the dingo's likely to be taken for ransom.'
Eppie's face went blank. 'There are always rumors circulating in television. It comes with the territory.'
'So there's no truth in this particular one?'
'I guarantee Darleen isn't going anywhere,' she said firmly.
This wasn't really an answer to my question, but before I could probe further, Eppie brought the electric cart to a stop outside a large, windowless building.
'This is it, Kylie. I'll take you in and introduce you, then I've got work to do. Tell them to call me when you're ready to leave.'
Inside it was organized chaos. The place was crammed with equipment and sets and cameras and lights. Cables ran everywhere on the floor. People were rushing to and fro, seemingly intent on urgent tasks, while others lounged around talking.
Eppie cut a path through to an inoffensive-looking bloke who was standing by himself earnestly checking through items on a clipboard. 'Freddie, this is Kylie Kendall. She's here to see Dingo O'Rourke.'
He didn't seem at all put out to be interrupted in this way. 'Right. Follow me.'
I said goodbye to Eppie, then hurried to keep up with Freddie, who moved with deceptive speed. He took me through a dizzying array of sets then down a long hallway to a green door bearing the stern commandment to keep it closed at all times. 'Through here.'
Behind it was a large room fitted with three spacious mesh runs. One of them, I guessed, held the famous Darken.
Dingo was slumped in a chair, smoking. He looked up as we entered, his face far from welcoming. 'What do you want?'
'Dingo,' I said. 'G'day.'
Freddie said, 'I'll leave you to it,' and disappeared.
'Jesus, Kylie, what are you doing here?'
'Just dropping in to say hello.'
Dingo dropped the butt of his cigarette on the floor and ground it out under the heel of his boot. 'It's not a good time.'
He was thinner and more drawn than I remembered. His sandy hair was lank and lifeless. Even his mustache drooped listlessly. He still had a hard, muscled body, but his usually tanned face was pale and there was a tremor in his hands.
'Why didn't you answer my calls?' I asked.
'Christ, can't you leave me alone?'
'This isn't my idea, Dingo. I'm here as a favor to your mum and dad.'
His face twisted. 'Tell them I'm fine.'
'You don't look fine to me.'
'I haven't got time for this.'
He looked relieved when the door opened and a girl stuck her head through. 'Darleen's up in fifteen.'
'I can't talk now. Later perhaps, Kylie. I'll call you.'
We both knew he wouldn't.
I found my way back to the activity by heading towards the noise. I was looking for Freddie to call Eppie Longworth to come and get me, when a balding bloke with a ponytail grabbed me.
'You're late! Here, take this.' He took my arm and guided me over to one of the sets. Shoving pages of script into my hand, he said, 'Take it from the top.'
'There's been some mistake-'
'No mistake. That's the scene I want.' He turned away to bellow, 'Giles? Where the hell are you? Get some light on this girl.'
Abruptly, blinding lights came on. I blinked through the glare at the pages I was holding, recognizing the first words. It was the appallingly written passage Melodie had delivered in the kitchen this morning.
Someone yelled, 'Quiet on the set!' Silence immediately fell.
'And action!' snapped the ponytailed bloke, who had to be Earl Garfield.
Right. I'd give him action. I'd show him how it should have been written. I'd ham it up and have some fun.
'Timmy?' I cried, hoping my expression conveyed a combo of wonder and desperate hope. 'Fair dinkum, is that really you? My baby brother?' I took a deep breath to prolong a dramatic pause, then went on, 'You little bobby- dazzler! At last, after all these years, with me in Oz and you here, in Texas, and never a word between us. Ripper!' I dropped my gaze to an imaginary dingo by his side. 'And good onya, Darleen, for being true blue.'
'Cut!' Garfield strode into the light. 'Your accent needs some work, but you'll do. The part's yours.'
'But-'
'Giles will look after the details.' He raised his voice to yell, 'Giles, where the hell are you?'
'Mr. Garfield-'
'Don't bother me'-he broke off to peer at me intently- 'Name?'
'Kylie, Kylie Kendall.'
'Don't bother me with piddling trivia, Kylie Kendall. Your agent will handle negotiations.'
'I don't have-'
'Giles! Get your ass over here!' He turned back to glare at me. 'And be on time in future.'
'What just happened?' I said to Giles.
'You got the part of Olive. Congratulations. You're a TV star.”
Seven
I got back to Kendall & Creeling feeling rather like a stunned mullet. I skipped past Melodie at the front desk with a pang of guilt, wondering how to break the news that I was about to play Olive, not her. I found Ariana wasn't in yet, and I required expert advice, fast.
'Bob,' I said, closing Bob Verritt's office door behind me, 'I need help. Urgently.'
He looked up from the papers he'd been reading. 'What have you done now?'
'Now?' I said, indignant. 'It's not like I make a habit of getting myself into trouble.'
That made Bob laugh immoderately. 'Kylie, it's your modus operandi.'
I smiled reluctantly. Unfortunately, there was some truth in the charge.
Still grinning, Bob leaned his skinny frame back in his chair. 'So what's the problem?'
'I've sort of become an actor, by accident.'
I told Bob the sequence of events that had led to my being offered the role of Olive. He indulged in more unrestrained laughter.
'Can't tell you how pleased I am that I amuse you so much,' I said, rather miffed at his lighthearted attitude.
Making a real effort to be serious, Bob said, 'So why didn't you tell Garfield it was a case of mistaken identity?'
'I was going to, and then it hit me that this would be a perfect way to spend some time near Dingo O'Rourke and find out what's going on with him. Dingo made it pretty clear he's not intending to see me again, but he won't have any choice if I'm in the cast. And don't worry about me being out of the office. Olive's only scheduled for two episodes, so it won't be a long-term thing.'
Bob's grin broke out again. 'You could make a big splash in the part. If that happens, your character will join the permanent cast.'
'There's Buckley's chance of that. What I know about acting could be written on the head of a pin, and in block letters. That's why I need your advice.'
'Were you asked if you had an agent?'
'I almost said Melodie's Larry-my-agent represented me, but then I thought that might not be wise.'
'Good grief,' said Bob, the smile wiped off his face. 'Melodie! She's not going to be happy.'
This struck me as quite an understatement. 'Melodie's going to be mad as a cut snake. She'd been telling
