“Now I know it wasn’t God looking out for me, but my uncle… It’s even better. Neither man was good, and even though I’m no judge, I believe they got what they deserved. If that makes me part of humanity that’s wrong then I’m wrong.”
Cage cupped my cheek as Jig attempted to nudge his way between them. “I feel the same about Dad. He’s one of the good guys. All my life I’ve known that. Finding out that he committed murder to keep his niece safe doesn’t change my opinion. Nor does him beating up the creep who humiliated and used you change my mind. I’d forgotten about him, to be honest. It never entered my head that you might have felt like Shary.” He paused thoughtfully for a moment, as if slotting Adie in with Shary in his own mind. Belatedly. “So, in my eyes, you being glad those two got what they deserved doesn’t make you wrong.”
She smiled tentatively into Cage’s eyes as she absently stroked Jig’s head. “I probably wouldn’t have done it. The fear of hell would have stopped me.”
“Hell? For what?” Cage looked genuinely confused.
“Suicide. It’s a mortal sin. It’s a one way ticket to Hell.”
Cage chuffed out a humorless laugh. “Now that’s a load of crap, if ever I heard it. If Hell exists, it’s filled with people who really deserve that fate, not poor souls whose lives had become unbearable. Or people with a chemical imbalance. Religions that condemn those poor souls are wrong.”
“Didn’t you ever believe in God?” Adie asked.
Cage drew back as if she’d hit him. “I learned long ago that we’re in this alone. There’s no loving creator watching over us. If there was, He’d do something.”
Adie agreed, but at some deeper level she still believed in God. Maybe not the God her mother and her church believed in, but someone. Something. In her darkest moments she had sometimes felt that Something as a loving force. It was there in the background, ready to provide support, even if It didn’t intervene.
Giving herself a shake, she stood up. “We’re way off topic. Maybe I am letting other things deflect me from the Mystery. I’ll just take my coffee upstairs and get back to reading.”
Chapter 10
16th March
Today we were on the set of Thunderball at Pinewood Studios. Although I’d tried to sleep last night, it was impossible. I was too excited and, if I’m honest, just a little bit scared. There’s a world of difference between being a faceless extra and being an actress with a role to play and a line to say. What if the camera didn’t like me or I forgot my line? These were the thoughts going through my head all night.
However, the journey was easy, as it was the last two times I’ve been there. Georgie chatted most of the way, I think to help me keep my nerves under control. This was my big break. My dreams were finally starting to come true.
The first few times I was here I wasn’t sure what to expect. Something like the Hollywood studios you see in their films. This was not like that at all. Although it does have a huge lot with lots of stages.
Of course, I didn’t get to see much of the studio the last couple of times. Extras don’t get to just walk around freely.
Being an extra is very different to having a speaking part. Your position in the hierarchy changes. You became an actress, and you’re treated with more respect. And during breaks we were allowed to wander and explore a little, if only unofficially, rather than being corralled like lepers well away from the action.
Georgie and I were asked to don beautiful evening gowns and spend simply ages in hair and makeup. I have never felt so glamorous in my life. When I first got my part I’d been afraid I’d be expected to wear a bikini for my part. But as things solidified, I came to realize my role would be far less risqué. All I had to do was speak French to my companion, an extra, and then purr at Sean with a French accent while telling him where to find the bad guy in the casino. I got the role because I spoke fluent French. Bond gives me his trade mark smirk before sauntering off, leaving me to follow him with adoring eyes.
Georgie got to cozy up to Sean at the card table, showing her impressive cleavage as she leaned down to whisper in his ear. A little later she gets her one line, warning Bond to be careful.
After all the waiting around and take after take, I finally had my part done without issue and could watch Georgie do hers. I chatted with several of the director’s assistants and drew admiring glances from a producer. Or executive producer. I’m still not sure who is who, I must admit. The pecking order seems convoluted but very firm.
A young actor called Richard Mantz sidled up to me while I was watching Georgie. He told me I looked like a young Jayne Mansfield. Personally, I prefer being compared with Jean Harlow, but as he was a very handsome young man I didn’t complain. He asked for my phone number, which I gave him. Maybe we’ll go out for a meal or something. I doubt it will be anywhere expensive, as he’s only just breaking into the industry, like me.
Georgie drew a lot more attention than I did. In fact, she seemed to draw attention away from the actresses who were playing the Bond girls. I suppose that’s a drawback in this industry. You don’t want to outshine the stars,
