The big digital clock on the wall showed 5.37 a.m. Oh God, what if her flight was delayed or, even worse, cancelled? There were just so many stages where all of this could go horribly wrong. She needed everything to run like clockwork to arrive at the studios on time but, realistically, what were the chances of that? Panicked, she swung around, looking for someone official to ask, though nobody else seemed the least bit bothered. Just then she heard her flight being called and felt her body sag with relief.
Once settled into her seat on the flight, she felt like one of those children on a mechanical ride, frantically rocking, trying to make it work without putting any money in the slot. Again, nobody around her seemed overly fussed that they were running a few minutes late. Cassie, she told herself, you’re stressing, you’ll only burn yourself out. She put in her earphones, switched on her lines loop, and lay back in the seat and waited for the familiar feeling of taxiing down the runway, the pause, turn, the moment of held breath, and then the roar from the engines.
‘We’re up,’ cheered the lady in a pink flowery dress in the seat beside her to her husband, who looked slightly ill.
Hallelujah, they were on their way.
* * *
Heathrow was packed and sweltering.
Cassie elbowed her way to the front of the queue to get off the plane as politely she possibly could, without actually trampling over old ladies, and then made for the terminal, scuttling along, passing everyone on the travelator, excusing herself and trying not to run over their feet with the wheels of her case. Her watch was already showing ten past eight .?.?. Oh God, this was getting tight. How could time just vanish like this, when it looked on paper as though she should have oceans of it?
She sweated through passport control then burst through the sliding glass doors into the arrivals hall, oblivious to the bored-looking people standing around, holding name signs. She glanced around wildly and spotted the sign for taxis. Oh no, imagine if there was a massive queue or even a Tube strike? Could easily happen. Nightmare. What if she’d made it this far, only to be hit by one of an infinite number of obstacles? She rushed out the exit in a panic and almost wept with relief to see the row of trusty taxis lined up like well-trained black bears. She waved at the first one, who nodded to her. She climbed in, basking in that familiar sense of safety as the door slammed behind her.
‘Elstree Studios, please, how long should that take?’ she gabbled.
The cabbie brightened up at that. ‘’Bout forty-five minutes, give or take. You in a hurry, then?’
She burst out about her audition and how she absolutely had to make it in time for nine thirty. He pulled away steadily.
‘Should make that, no problem, barring accidents,’ he remarked sanguinely.
‘Don’t mention that word, please.’
She was aware of her hands leaving sweaty prints on the screen as she scrolled through the contacts on her phone.
‘Sunita?’
‘Darling, where are you?’
‘I’m in a taxi heading for Elstree.’
‘Fabulous, well done you.’
‘The only thing is, Sunita, the place is massive – how on earth am I going to findWentworth Way?’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll phone through and let them know you’re on your way—’
‘Not a bother,’ volunteered the cabbie cheerfully. ‘I know where it is. I’m in and out of there all the time.’
‘Really?’ said Cassie. ‘And there was me, thinking I was the only person ever to have to find my way there.’
He laughed at this and suddenly it all made sense. There was a whole world going on around her and, no, she wasn’t the only person in it to have done this. Just calm down.
A few moments later, her phone buzzed. ‘Hi, this is Judy, I’m PA onWentworth Way. Just head for the low office buildings beside the lot and I’ll be looking out for you.’
She felt a surge of gratitude towards this Judy, even though she didn’t know her from a hole in the wall.
Finally, they pulled up to the big gate, and in front of her was the original building with the words ‘Elstree Studios’ printed across it in massive letters. Her cabbie seemed to know exactly where he was going and to be enjoying pointing out the various sights to her.
‘That’s where theBig Brotherhouse was, that’s the studio where they shotStar Wars.?.?.’ Cassie wasn’t capable of focusing on any of this, but nodded politely. He swung round a corner and pulled up to an unprepossessing office building outside of which a blonde girl in jeans, with a lanyard round her neck and a clipboard, was waiting. Judy. Oh. My. God. She’d one hundred per cent made it with exactly twenty-five minutes to spare. Judy welcomed her but seemed quite businesslike. As far as she was concerned, this was just an actor turning up for a reading, not a pioneer who’d toiled from the far reaches of the Earth, against all the odds, to reach the impossible dream.
She was shown into a smallish green room with a sofa and a TV, and for the first moment since her alarm had gone off that morning, she allowed herself a minute to exhale. A young runner stuck his head around the door. ‘Can I get you a coffee? Did you have far to come?’ he enquired breezily.
‘A coffee would be fabulous.’ She smiled with the sort of gratitude people normally reserve for emergency medical personnel.
She nipped to the loo, where she caught sight of herself in the mirror and realised with a shock that every screed of makeup she’d put on at home had worn off long ago and, in fact, her face looked as bald as a newborn gerbil. She reapplied eyeliner but kept her lip gloss minimal and mussed up her hair. All in all, she looked just about the right level of dishevelled.
