“Him!” said Penelope when she could. “Have you ever seen such an ugly body? Jesus wept, he’s got breasts like a woman.”
Before anyone could say anything, the door of the room opened and Mr. Jessop, followed by Patricia, burst in.
“What is going on here?” shouted the minister.
“How dare you turn my work into pornography!” screamed Patricia.
Fiona saw disaster and moved quickly. “Come outside and I’ll explain things. We were just rehearsing until their costumes arrived.”
She shooed them out of the room and led them along to her office.
“It’s like this,” she lied. “Actors are used to seeing each other naked. No one thinks anything of it. They’ll be dressed in the actual scene. Penelope will be wearing a nightdress and Gervase pyjamas.”
“I do not believe you,” said Patricia.
“Wait a minute and I’ll arrange for them to show you the actual scene.”
Fiona sped back to the set and said to Giles, “Get them both into nightclothes, and you two, perform a decorous petting scene. Sheila, get a nightgown and pyjamas fast.”
She then went back to the office. “You can see the scene in a few moments.”
“This is a trick,” said Mr. Jessop. “There was some actor telling the locals last night how he was going to have intercourse with that actress.”
“Now, Mr. Jessop,” cooed Fiona, “do you think we would show such a scene? Gervase must have been a bit drunk, and he brags a lot. This is for family viewing. Nudity may be shocking to you, but we’re used to it. I mean, have you seen some of the beaches in Spain, or even Brighton? Nobody thinks anything these days about going naked.”
“You must think us very silly to be taken in by such a story,” said Patricia.
Fiona forced herself to smile calmly. All would be well just so long as this precious pair did not ask for any confirmation in writing.
“Television is a mad world.” She spread her hands ruefully. “But just think. Would we jeopardise our chances of getting the prime family slot on Sunday viewing by showing explicit sex scenes?”
Sheila put her head round the door. “Ready for you.”
“Come along,” said Fiona, “and you’ll see for yourselves.”
Penelope and Gervase, alarmed into good behaviour by the threat that the series might be sabotaged, were now dressed: Penelope in a long Laura Ashley cotton nightgown and Gervase in striped pyjamas rather like the minister’s own. Fiona thought the wretched pair were deliberately hamming it up to make it look and sound like a Victorian courting scene. Certainly they ended up in bed together, but they finished the scene with a chaste kiss.
“And we fade there,” said Fiona brightly.
But old·fashioned Patricia and Mr. Jessop had found it all very tasteful. They did not know that Penelope and Gervase had made up the lines as they went along.
“But they are not married and they are in bed together,” said Mr. Jessop cautiously.
Fiona seized a script and pretended to consult it. “A gamekeeper bursts in at that moment and says, “There’s a body on the beach.” They both hurry off to investigate. Nothing further happens between them.”
Relieved, Patricia and the minister accepted this explanation. They could not believe that these television people would go to such lengths to deceive them. Fiona took them back to the office, served them coffee and talked soothingly and flatteringly about the genius of Patricia’s writing.
Patricia left, feeling quite elated.
Having seen them off the premises and having instructed two men to guard the door of the set in future, Fiona went back into the ‘bedroom.’ Giles was sitting in a corner, clutching his head.
“What the fuck’s up now?” asked Fiona, her temper breaking.
“That bitch,” said Gervase, pointing a shaking finger at Penelope.
“She won’t stop laughing,” mourned Giles.
“You cannot expect me to seriously make love to a man with a body like that,” sneered Penelope.
“Look here,” said Fiona wrathfully, advancing on Penelope. “If you do not do what you are paid to do and keep making trouble, we’ll find someone else.”
“You can’t afford to,” said Penelope, looking at her with dislike. “I hate being pushed around by people. I’ve been pushed around all my life, and I’m not going to take any more of it. Get rid of me? It’d be cheaper to get rid of
Fiona tried to laugh it all off. It certainly would be easier to get rid of her than Penelope. “Come on, Penelope,” she coaxed. “Let’s just get the scene done.”
“I’ve a headache now,” said Penelope mulishly. “Tell Harry to come and see me when he arrives.”
She swept out.
“She’s costing us money,” said Hal Forsyth, the production manager. “Who does she think she is? Liz Taylor?”
“Tell Harry to see me before he sees her,” said Fiona.
Sheila followed her out. “I want a word with you, Fiona.”
“Not you, too.”
“I’ve got something to tell you which might help. I was down in Lochdubh visiting that policeman. He said something about Penelope being on uppers, and I said then I didn’t think so, but now I’m beginning to wonder.”
Fiona swung round. “You mean, find proof and get her arrested?”
“I think Hamish would just give her a warning. No, I was thinking, she’ll leave her caravan for lunch. I could go in there, search around, and if I find them, confiscate the lot. I think that’s maybe what’s been turning her into an aggressive bitch. It’s worth a try.”
“Do it.”
Sheila hung around Penelope’s trailer until she saw her stepping down and making her way to the temporary restaurant.
She had a spare key. She let herself in. Penelope’s handbag was lying on the dressing table. She went through the contents until she came upon two bottles of pills. One was marked Lib-rium and had a chemist’s name on it. The other bottle did not carry any label. Sheila decided to take what she thought might be the uppers and leave the tranquillisers. She hoped that the unlabelled bottle did not carry heart pills or anything important and legal. But then if it did, Penelope would raise a fuss.
The first person Penelope saw when she entered the trailer which housed the restaurant was Gervase. She collected her food and went to join him.
“I am not happy with you,” she said, fixing the actor with a cold blue stare.
“
“I didn’t ruin the morning’s shoot. It was you, I gather, who got drunk and spilled the beans so that writer and that minister got to hear of it. I’m going to have a word with Harry. I can’t act with you.”
“You’re mad,” said Gervase, but suddenly frightened. He had been finding it harder and harder to get parts of late. “I’ll kill you. You’ll be as dead as Jamie if you spoil my career.”
“I’m not frightened of you.” Penelope tossed her long blond hair.
Gervase picked up his plate of food and, ignoring the startled looks from the others in the restaurant, sat down at a table as far away from her as possible.
¦
It was unfortunate for Fiona that she was called to the phone to speak to the drama director of BBC Scotland just as Harry Frame arrived. Penelope hailed him as she left the restaurant. “Come to my caravan, Harry,” she called.
He followed her in and sat down.
Penelope outlined what had happened that morning, ending up by saying she could not work with Gervase or Fiona or Sheila.
Harry fought down a rising feeling of panic. “Look here,” he said. “I can’t go around firing everyone.”
