Rich, Famous, and Beautiful -- 2.2

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II.

My first film role was in a movie called ‘The Valiant.’ It was described to me as a period piece, but it was really an action movie with muskets. It was about an American man who seeks out justice after English loyalists murder his wife. I, of course, played the wife. She really had no personality, she was just sweet enough that she had to die. I had a total of fifteen minutes of screen time.

It wasn’t a good movie, a far cry from anything I’d been a part of before, but it had a fairly large budget, which meant, “Big distribution, big exposure,” according to Norman.

I was cast alongside a man named Jude Rollins, who was supposedly an up and comer. The Valiant was supposed to be his breakthrough role, taking him from national to worldwide recognition. We met for the first time in a costuming session.

“Hey there, Smallframe. You must be my wife,” were the first words he ever spoke to me.

“My name is Katherine,” were the first words I spoke to him.

He smiled deliciously, “I know. I saw you a couple of years ago as Hamlet. As he buttoned up his vest he added, “Nice lips, by the way.”

I glowered at him.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m a lot of fun once you get to know me.”

He was like a little kid in the way he would tease or bother you until you wanted to scream, but then he could win you back with one of his smiles. His mouth really was gorgeous, and one side of it would rise higher than the other.

Jude was a lot of things that I hated. Extremely confident for one. You wanted to slap him when he did his cocksure strut onto the set twenty minutes late. And he reserved no special respect for anyone. I was used to having just a touch of reverence held towards me, after being raised rich and becoming ‘a star.’ But by Jude, I was treated the same as any member of the crew. Even the director wasn’t given his due. Jude called him Lerch, because he was tall, or Dutch, because he was Dutch. And the director adored him for it.

“Hey Dutch,” he would call out. “How come patriotic American films are always directed by foreigners?”

“I don’t know, Jude. Stand on your mark.”

One time, I asked what he thought about the condition of our characters’ relationship. “Critical, Smallframe,” he said, then laughed. “The condition!” For days, that was his favourite word. “Hey Dutch, Kate wants to know the condition of lunch. The two of us are in a pretty bad condition over here.”

What bothered me the most was that he was from the parrot school of acting. He never attempted to understand his characters, or make them well rounded. He just spoke in the manner he thought was right. His script notes were always brief: ‘very angry here’, ‘weak and tired’ and once even ‘randy as hell.’ He would break character the moment the director said cut, and he would fool around until the next time the plates were slammed together.

My death scene was one of the first scenes we shot. I suppose the director wanted to give Jude something to focus on in later days. The camera captures me lying on the floor, having been shot in the stomach, and then Jude rushes in, gathers me in his arms, and breaks down hysterically. Every time, without fail, when we heard the word cut, Jude would drop out of character and do something foolish. He would plug my nose, or pretend to bite me, whatever he could to make me laugh. But when we began each scene, he would break down weeping every time. It didn’t bother me so much that he was a parrot, it bothered me that he was so damn good at. Convincing every single time.

I found out through my agent that he was the one responsible for my landing the role in the first place. He’d remembered me from Hamlet, and during the early talks of the movie he found that they hadn’t cast his wife yet. He suggested my name to the director, who suggested it to the producers, and things worked out very well for me in the end.

He could have told me that, but he didn’t.

Although he could be just about the worst tease in the world, and a total brat the rest of the time, he was always a gentleman. He never made a serious pass at me during the whole two weeks we were shooting together. Even for all the kissing scenes we had, he never did anything inappropriate. We would embrace, kiss, he would look at me with love, then the scene would end and he would be a kid again. I knew I was in trouble when I started wishing that something would happen.

On the last day I was needed for the shoot, the set-ups between scenes were taking forever. I sat beside Jude on a wagon as we waited.

“I’m gonna miss having you around, Smallframe,” he said.

“Oddly enough, I’ll miss you too,” I responded. Then I paused, took a deep breath and said, “I’d really like to see you again after you’re done filming.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” he asked, showing his little boy smile.

“I suppose.”

“No, you can’t just suppose.” He poked me in the ribs. “I need to hear the words. I need to know the condition of our relationship!” he said.

“God, you’re insufferable!”

“I love when you use words like that,” he laughed. He tucked his chin into his neck and, with a very affected British accent, said, “You’re so bloody insufferable, Jude. A damnedable scoundrel, you are.”

I performed my own Brit accent, much less affected of course, “I haven’t the foggiest bloody notion why I even brought the subject up.”

“Oh, go ahead, bloody well ask me.”

“Would you like to bloody well go out with me?”

“You’re goddamn right, I would.”

Jude had another two and a half months before The Valiant was finished. I gave him my number at home and told him to keep me informed on the condition of our date.

I was tempted to visit the WSP, but I would have hated to see their reactions at my obviously different body. But I did go to visit Celeste at her home.

“Oh my God!” she said. “They certainly gave you the works.”

“You probably wouldn’t believe what I’ve gone through,” I told her.

“And I don’t want to hear it, either. I’d like to be able to sleep tonight.”

I told her about the lame movie that I’d filmed, talking it down as much as I could. And I told her about Jude, not sparing her any of the moments between us. Celeste told me about the Company, and how they were thinking of doing the Henry and Richard plays from start to finish. She said that it would be a very dull season for all the women if the Company went ahead with their plan.

I didn’t stay very long. It seemed like we were straining most of the time for things to say, talking about work too much. We’d gone in different directions. I had no interest in the stage, she’d burned up all the interest she’d ever had in film. She told me that she would come down and visit some time, but she never did.

When The Valiant had finished I took Jude out to dinner. We were never hard pressed for conversation. After he filled me in on all the details of the movie, he suggested that we jump into Important Subjects. He said we could ask each other any question we wanted, thereby laying a solid ground to base a firm love affair on.

“You go first,” he said.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes,” he answered right away. “It was a girl I’d known since I was ten. We dated for too long, moved in together too soon. We said good riddance to each other about three years ago.”

“Your turn.”

“Do you wear contacts, or possibly corrective lenses?”

“No.”

“Okay, your turn.”

“Have you ever been in a fight?”

“No!” he laughed. “Can you believe that? I’ve got through about a third of my life without ever punching somebody out.” He paused and thought of another question. “Are you wearing underwear right now that you would consider a ‘special pair.’ He marked the quotes out in the air with his fingers.

“No,” I giggled. “Aren’t you going to ask a serious question? Don’t you want to know all about me.”

“I thought I did,” he said, picking at a breadstick. “But I think I’d feel insanely jealous if you told me about anyone from your past. Just for tonight, let me pretend that I’m the first boy you’ve ever been interested in.”

“Okay.” That was probably closer to the truth than he could have imagined.

We’d both driven to the restaurant, but because Jude wanted to walk me to the front door, he followed me home.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said when we were finally on the doorstep.

I nodded my head, somehow unable to agree in words. He leaned in very slowly, smiling as he did so, and then kissed me tenderly. “Good night,” he said, and began to walk away.

“I could have sworn you were going to ask to come in.”

“Please!” he said. “I’m always a perfect gentleman on the first date. Don’t get me wrong, though. Second date, you’ll be lucky if I don’t chew the pants right off of you.”