Ruby Tuesday

Chapter twenty six

Not long ago I'd been approached by high rising film director Jean-Paul Moreau who was after a famous non-actor (as he put it) to star in one of his films. I'd been to the pictures, I'd seen some of the French new wave films like Breathless and Pierrot le Fou. I knew the kind of style of acting he'd be after. I wasn't sure.

Angie was very green in the face, her eyes widening in astonishment when I broke the news to her. She's shoved my arm and told me I didn't deserve the role. I was only half sure she was joking. "I'm going to do it," I crossed my arms adamantly across my chest, raising my chin high in the air. "Can you believe it? I'll be a film star."

"No," she grumbled, lighting up a fag. "I bloody can't."

I went to Spain where he was shooting in the beautiful climate, bursting warm skies and a trickle of a breeze. This was my first time in Spain. I wore big sunglasses and a large, floppy hat but I was still recognised by photographers. At least they weren't as persistent or tactless as they were back home.

Jean-Paul was in very tight, little shorts with frayed hems and his bright button up shirt was half undone revealing a particularly hairy chest. He grasped my hand in his, grinning as he pulled me in, planting a kiss on each cheek. "Beautiful, beautiful." He chuckled and handed me a glass of sangria, lots of fruit bobbing around at the top. "This will refresh you." 

"Wow," I sipped at the drink, my eyes still drinking in the rocky landscape, the aqua pool and the large chalet with pillars adorning it. "This is so...magnificent."

"Oh my love," Jean-Paul gave my arm an excited squeeze. "This is just the start. Trust in me. This movie becomes a hit and you'll be an actress, it's as simple as that."

Once I was shown around the set and allocated a room at the back of the building with an undisturbed view of the mountains and skyline I rang my dad. The walls were exceedingly orange like I had nestled inside a pumpkin. Dad cleared his throat and boomed out a hello.

"Dad, it's Ruby. You'll never guess where I am, I'm in Spain! It's so beautiful and hot! I've never felt sunshine like this before. How are you? How's home?" I gabbled at a hundred miles and hour barely pausing for breath.

He laughed, "Calm down! I'm fine, everything here's fine. Raining though."

Filming commenced the next day shortly after breakfast. The night before I'd been handed a few bits of paper with a limited script but it mostly was an outline of the film's plot. How the actors reached those points was pretty much down to us. I sat out on the terrace in a bikini and a sheer robe, drinking orange juice and eating fresh fruit and pancakes. 

"My love," Jean-Paul called from his small table where he puffed on a thin cigarette. "So the scene opens with you and Shelley in the pool, topless. Adrien will enter, you get out, the argument happens, Shelley comes to defend you and he pushes her in rage accidently murders her."

Topless? I tried to subtly look down at my breasts. Jean-Paul was still staring at me, wincing as he cowered against the face of the sun. I nodded once still feeling uncertain. With breakfast out of the way, Shelley and I pulled our bikini tops off, had our hair and makeup styled and eased into the pool. It was shockingly cold compared to the hot, dry air. Shelley's hair was white it was so blonde and her small, cutesy face reminded me strongly of Marilyn Monroe. Adrien wasn't the classic tall, tanned and muscular type that Hollywood demands but was quite short with a large hooked nose. He had vibrant blue eyes and strong arms but he was by no means conventionally handsome.

I eyed the cameras all angled from the edge of the pool directly at Shelley and I. How did people manage to act and pretend that nobody was watching or filming them? I could already feel shyness flood my cheeks and the pull of the lens on my eyes. With an effort I forced myself to smile at Shelley, Jean-Paul bellowed action and all pressure mounted on our shoulders.