'We don't want to watch it, we want to be in it.'
'We want to be in it,' I echo emphatically.
'Well.' The man seems to admit defeat. 'OK. No problem at all. My people will fix it up for you.'
'Bex, we're going to be extras!' Suze clutches me in excitement.
'We're going to be in a film!'
'We can go and watch ourselves at the cinema! Everyone will see us- Ooh, what's the film about?' says Suze as an afterthought, and the man looks up from where he's writing his mobile number on a card.
'Pirates.'
Pirates? I look at Suze with renewed glee. We're going to be in a film about pirates!
DiscriminHate LA
c/o 6389 Kester Avenue Van Nuys CA 91411 Dear Mrs Brandon I was given your name by Andy Wyke, who was at the recent E.Q.U.A.L. benefit and heard your inspiring story.
I am president of the charity DiscriminHate LA, a lobby group set up to combat discrimination in all its forms. We consider that current definitions of discrimination are far too narrow. We have identified no fewer than 56 common grounds for discrimination and the list grows longer every day.
However, you are the first case of 'pet-ism' we have come across, and we would like to talk to you about your experience. Many of our members have spearheaded campaigns and we hoped you could do the same. For example you could: Write an account of your discrimination story for our website.
Develop an outreach program for high school students who may suffer the same type of discrimination.
Lobby your local government representative for 'Ermintrude's Law'.
May I, at this point, offer you my sincere solidarity and sympathy. I am not familiar with the exact details of your case, but I gather it was a moving story and must have been painful for you to share.
I look forward to hearing from you and welcoming you to our fight.
All my best Gerard R. Oss
President DiscriminHate LA
Survivor and Fighter: size-ism, name-ism, odor-ism, and sexual-practice-ism.
Author of I'm Different, You're Different, S/He's Different
LHA.
LETHERBY HALL ASSOCIATION.
THE PARSONAGE.
LETHERBY COOMBE.
HAMPSHIRE.
Dear Mrs Ermintrude Endwich Thank you for your recent letter.
It is always interesting to hear from an 'unbiased member of the public' as you describe yourself. However, I must take issue with your various points. The LHA is not a 'bunch of Nazis with nothing better to do than complain about fountains'. We do not 'meet every night in some grim little cavern'; nor 'plot like the witches in Macbeth'. Our dress sense is, I would suggest, irrelevant.
I also rebut your assertion that The Surge is 'one of the wonders of the world'. It is not. Nor will we 'all be sorry when the brilliant Tarquin Cleath-Stuart is given a medal for it by the Queen'. I cannot quite imagine which medal this would be.
May I have your address in the UK? I cannot find any record of you on the electoral roll.
President
LHA.
TWELVE.
I've done my research. I'm taking this seriously. I'm going to be the best extra ever.
No, not 'extra'. The proper term is 'background actor'. I've found out so much on the internet about being an extra, I feel really well prepared. For example, you should always bring playing cards or a book in case you get bored. And you shouldn't wear green, in case they're using a green screen for CGI. And you should bring a variety of outfits. Although that doesn't apply in this case, as apparently our costumes will be provided. A limo has also been provided to take us to the film set, which is definitely not standard practice. They're being super-nice to us because of Suze being married to Tarkie.
In fact, I'm secretly hoping they might be so nice that they give us each a little line to say. I mean, why not? Obviously not big lines or speeches or anything. Just something small. I could say, ''Tis true, cap'n,' after the Pirate Captain makes a speech. And Suze could say, 'Land ahoy!' or 'Ship ahoy!' or 'Pirate ahoy!' Anything ahoy, really. I've been practising a special growly, piratess voice in the mirror, and I've read an article on acting for film. It says the most common mistake, even for trained actors, is to over-act, and that the camera picks up the most infinitesimal movements and magnifies them, so you need to make everything tiny.
I'm not sure Suze realizes this, because she's spent the whole of breakfast doing all these loud warm-up exercises and shaking her hands out to 'loosen herself up' and saying 'Wibble-wobble' over and over again. But I can't tell her anything about acting, because she just says, 'Bex, I went to drama school, remember.'
The film is being shot at a soundstage in Burbank, and that's where we're heading right now. Luke is dropping off Minnie at pre-school today, as well as Suze's children. (As soon as the headmistress found out who Tarkie was, she fell over herself to offer the Cleath-Stuarts temporary places, and the principal of a nearby school immediately found space for Ernest too.) We're sitting in the limo, watching the billboards speed by and grinning madly at each other. This is the most exciting thing I have done in my life, ever.
I don't know what the scene's about in fact, I don't really know what the film's about because all it says online is 'Drama set on the high seas'. But I've done a bit of practice at swinging a cutlass (I used a kitchen knife) because you never know, it might be a fight scene.
'Hey, Suze, if I have to fight someone, bagsy it's you,' I say.
'Me too,' agrees Suze at once. 'Except, will the womenfolk fight? They might just look on and jeer.'
'There are female pirates,' I say knowledgeably. 'We can be one of those. Look at Elizabeth Swann.'
'I want to fight Captain Jack Sparrow,' says Suze longingly.
'He's not in it!' I say for the millionth time. Suze is a bit hung up on Johnny Depp, and I think she was hoping that we were going to be in a new Pirates of the Caribbean. But it's not that. It's called The Black Flag, and I don't recognize the names of any of the stars except April Tremont, who is playing 'Gwennie'.
'I know he's not. But still. Wouldn't it be amazing?' She sighs.
'There'll probably be an even hotter pirate king in this one,' I point out, as my phone rings. It's Dad calling, which surprises me. Normally it's Mum who rings, and then passes me over to Dad, and then instantly grabs the phone back as there's something she's forgotten to tell me about Janice's new sofa covers or the geraniums.
'Dad!' I exclaim. 'Guess what Suze and I are doing right now?'
'Drinking orange juice in the sunshine,' says Dad with a laugh. 'I hope you are.'
'Wrong! We're in a limo, going to the film set!'
Mum and Dad already know we're going to be extras in a movie, because I phoned them up to tell them, straight away. And Janice and Martin. And Jess and Tom, and my old bank manager Derek Smeath ...
I suppose I did phone quite a few people, now I think about it.
'Wonderful, darling!' says Dad. 'Make sure you hobnob with the movie stars.'
'We will!'
'I was just wondering, did you ever manage to look up my old friend Brent?'
Oh. Damn. What with Golden Peace, and Suze arriving, it completely slipped my mind.
'Not yet,' I say guiltily. 'I haven't quite had time. But I will, I promise.'
'Well, that would be marvellous.'
'I'll go and see him really soon, and I'll give him all your details.'
We've arrived at a barricaded entrance to a large complex with buildings and courtyards, and as the driver slows down, I see a row of trailers out of the window. Real film trailers!
'We're here! There are trailers!' I say in excitement. 'Oh Dad, you should see it!'
'Sounds fantastic,' says Dad. 'Well, you let me know about Brent.'