At break time Cassie spotted Marisha’s car pulling into the car park. She traipsed into the classroom, looking tired and wan, as Cassie tidied up after the set builders.
‘Cassie, look at the marvellous work you’ve all been doing. Listen, I really wanted to catch you on your own. My daughter Samantha told me this weekend what had transpired between you last week. She didn’t tell me at the time because I think she felt guilty. I know she can seem a little .?.?. harsh, but she’s a good girl. It’s all just been very hard on her, you know, at fourteen you’re not one thing or another, it’s such a difficult age.’
‘Marisha, I get it. I’m not trying to take anything from anyone. That’s what I wanted to tell her. I would have been exactly the same if my parents had split up, worse probably.’
‘Well, mine did split up when I was fourteen so, unfortunately, I know exactly what she’s going through.’
Nonetheless, there was something about the streetwise Samantha that put Cassie on alert. Although she was undoubtedly a vulnerable, remorseful teenager underneath, Samantha was clearly taking advantage of her parents’ guilt and calling the shots. It wasn’t that long since Cassie had been fourteen herself.
Marisha, in the meantime, seemed to have flipped back into professional mode.
‘I think you might need to collect the children, the bell is about to go,’ she announced briskly.
Cassie really wanted to like Marisha; the only problem was, how could you like someone who was treating you as a confidante one minute and a minion the next?
* * *
Shortly after three o’clock, Cassie was reversing out from her parking space in the school car park, when a call came through. The number was familiar, though she hadn’t seen it for a while, so she quickly pulled up to a safe spot at the side of the road.
The projected voice practically leaped down the line. ‘Hi, darling, it’s Sunita from London, remember me? Surprise, surprise. How’re you getting on in little old Ireland?’
Cassie was genuinely delighted to hear Sunita, who’d taken over the agency after Bea’s passing.
‘Sweetie, what a pleasure to hear from you. All good here, what’s up?’
‘Well, if you’re not sitting down, find a chair. I just got a call from the BBC ten minutes ago to say they’d seen an old tape of yours and they’re interested in you trying out for a part onWentworth Way. How about that?’
‘You’re kidding me?’
‘Not at all, I’m going to ping you over the details. And absolutely no disclosure, complete confidentiality, I know I can trust you. They want the tape for Wednesday, close of business, all right? Get back to me later, sweetheart.’
And she was gone.
Wow. That came from outer space. Cassie should’ve been delighted, she realised, but right now, with everything else that was going on, the whole idea felt exhausting. On the other hand, it was a fantastic opportunity.
She waited until the email came through and scanned the script. It was a good storyline. Great, in fact. It wasn’t just a blink-and-you-miss-it affair, this was actually the really meaty, really nice part of a woman who’d just got out of prison and was trying to restart her life. She began to feel a fizz of excitement and a surge of possibility. Just then the familiar, creeping doubt raised its head. How many times had she been in this situation? Endless audition tapes, endless hopes, only to have them dashed yet again.
All of a sudden, she felt a wave of loneliness and yearned to talk to someone who’d understand. Mam would tell her to have more sense, and anyone else she could think of would have some sort of a vested interest. Then it hit her, the last time she’d been phoned at home by her London agent was that horrible day when she’d lost little Miri in the supermarket and thought she’d ruined everything. But that had been a lifetime ago. She needed someone whose judgement she trusted but who’d give her sound professional advice .?.?. There was only one person she could think of.
‘Phil?’
‘Cassandra, I’m hearing nothing but great things about you from Roger Newcombe.’
‘About that, Phil, it might all be getting a little complicated.’
She explained to him about the phone call from her agent and her confusion. He listened carefully, without interrupting.
‘And the thing is, Phil, it’s a really good part.’
‘And do you want to do it?’
She sighed audibly.
‘Or maybe d’you not want to put yourself in that position again?’
Philip really got it, in fairness.
‘Something like that.’
