Bron-45

Continued from Chapter 44: Bron-44 | ABCtales

Mary Hinds gave the door of the caravan a sharp tap with the feet of her zimmer-frame. It flew open and she levered herself inside. The laminated ‘Special Consultant’ placard quivered in its frame as she slammed the door shut behind her.

Over at the Green Room, Brooke Malory, in immaculate tight, light blue overalls, which did everything to emphasise her ample proportions, turned to Chris. “Miss Mary had no cause to spee-uk to me like that! I’m doin my best! And also, my contract specifically states, ah can keep mah hair just as it is!” She tossed her long, blond locks, letting them sway from side to side, exuding an overpowering scent of Chanel No. 5.

“Oh well, I’m sure she’ll calm down – eventually. It’s her age. She can be a bit cantankerous.”

“Do YOU think I’m a li’l cry-baby, Chris?”

“No! No – not all. I think you’re very … very authentic.”

“Ah mean, it’s not the easiest pay-art to get into. Not like there’s lots of role models. I mean, ah’ve watched Tom Cruise in Top Gun, ah don’t know how many times. But there just aint a lot of lady aviators to base yerself on.”

“Well, I think you’re accent’s just perfect for the role. Tell me, is that your natural speaking-voice?”

“Sure is, honey! Well, ah feel just a li’l better for speakin’ with you, Chris. You’re my ray-ock, y’know?”

“Ree-ock?”

“Yes, my ray-ock. Strong and dependable…”

“Oh, rock! Well, I’m here to support you any way I can. We all are”

“God,” said Chris to Geoff as they drove out of the gates of Firtree Studios in his battered bright green Fiat Panda. “What a box of tricks!”

 “You mean our glamorous starlet?”

 “Glamour in the hangar.”

 “Mary Hinds is getting well peed-off. Wonder how long she’s going to stand it before she totally blows her top.”

 “She’s still going on at me about how perfectly Bron personifies her … spunk. Almost like she’s Mary Hind reincarnated.”

 “Except she’s not dead yet.”

 “Pity we can’t somehow transpose Brooke Malory’s vocal cords into Bron. By the way, have you been in touch with her lately?”

“No, not at all. Not a dicky-bird.” Geoff didn’t of course mention the weekly cheques for £425 he’d been posting to Grace; he’d managed to bargain the payments down, slightly, though that was small compensation for losing most of the proceeds of Princess Abokimbo. As Grace herself had said, she had him by the short and curlies. God, she drove a hard bargain, that woman. Still, the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

“You know,” continued Chris, “now that Pyramid Productions are funding things, if things really come to a head with Ms Malory, could there be a way back in for Bron? I mean, they could pay for really intensive, top-notch language coaching.”

“They could,” said Geoff. “But they want a big name. Whole reason for bringing the lady on board.”

“Yeah, Bron’s not exactly a big name.”

“Four letters.”

To be continued in Chapter 46