Chapter 34
After the lunch, we drove to the studio. May and Chloe were amazed at the size of the complex. We went to where David usually shot the screen tests and Cecil was there with his crew. Chloe was introduced and I saw that there was a settee where I would sit to start the scene. I took Chloe through some vocal exercises.
When everyone was ready, I sat on the settee, Chloe stood to one side, and I started with “I don’t think I can take much more.”
When we finished, there were smiles all round and Chloe was on the receiving end of several hugs. Cecil had used two cameras, and spent another ten minutes playing with the feeds, then showed us the edited interaction. I thought we looked, and sounded, good. At the salon, they had done a hair colour on both of us which was close, which made the sister look more prominent.
Chloe and May looked at the screen in wonder. This was the first piece of film and was crisp and impressive. David told Chloe that there was a contract in his office for her to sign, a similar one to my first contract, with a salary and a percentage of the film. I didn’t need one for me, being a director of the company and a recipient of any profit, as well as a backer in case of loss.
The group split into small units to work on what they were doing before we arrived, and David took Chloe and May through to his office where they looked at the contract and signed. She was now on the books and would get her signing bonus. Unlike my original contract, which had been with David, hers was with Younger Films.
After that, it was my job to take them both around the complex, to show them the various sound stages, and to teach them when to stay quiet. We did find Eric on one of the sound stages, rehearsing a scene for one of the new things that Younger Films was now working with, that being short films and series for streaming services. I introduced him to my companions, and he gave them each a hug and asked them about the obvious similarity between me and Chloe. He had wound up his scene, so the director called for a break and the four of us went off to the canteen for a drink and a piece of cake. We had a good talk before he left us to go back to work.
May was quite flustered at how she had been able to talk to a living TV legend. Chloe was starting to take all of this in her stride, no doubt due to the strong genes that we had both inherited. It made me realise why I was able to carry on when things got tight, something that I now knew was part of our father’s strength.
We went back to the sound stage and David gave us a list of scenes to study, as well as a pair of revised screenplays. I told him about my flight training on the end of the week, and he said that we would start serious work the following week, with the studio work. Before we left, Chloe was sent to costume to be measured. They did me as well, seeing that it had been some time since I was last done.
When I drove us back to the house, May was quiet, at first, then brightened.
“Today has been a real eye-opener. It has made me realise how much hard work goes into a successful film. Thank you both for showing me this. I can go home, now, safe in the knowledge that my girl will be happy. I’ll call to see if I can get a seat back to Carlisle.”
Back at the house, she was able to get a seat north, in the next afternoon. That was perfect, as I had a plan for our morning. She rang the hotel, telling Bob she would be home, and he wanted to talk to Chloe. While they were busy, I called our cosmetic supplier on my mobile and made an appointment for both of them next morning. At dinner I told them that we would be going into London in the morning, and then taking May to Gatwick after lunch, so she should have her bag ready after breakfast.
In the morning, we loaded the Audi, and I drove them to the city. We parked and I led them to Harrods, where we went to our cosmetic supplier. There, Chloe had a make-over, with a full palette study, and was given a travelling case with her new cosmetics. She was told that a full studio case would be sent to the make-up department at the film studio.
May was given the treatment, on my card, and we left with both of them looking a million dollars and carrying their new cosmetic cases. I took them to see Mama for lunch, where we were given a good table, a good Italian meal, and a grilling about this look-alike that I had brought to see her. A photo was taken to go on the wall, later. Mama told me that Roger had found a job, in Brisbane, working in sports agent’s office, and seemed happy enough.
At Gatwick, May was checked in and we went to sit in the food area until she needed to go to the departure lounge. She told me that Bob was going to get a shock when his wife comes home looking like a star. Chloe told her that she had always been a star. I said that I would be in touch when our father died, to organise my mum, May, Janet, and Linda to come to London for a make-over before we went to collect the body. I wanted us to look as good as we could, and to do things properly. He may have been a bad man, but he had been our bad man.
Wednesday, Chloe took the A4 to the studio, to immerse herself in the film experience, while I went to Gatwick in the A8, to immerse myself in flying by instruments only. At the training school, they looked at my record and put me on a simulator to test my general flying skills. Then it was a simulated flight with an instructor, unable to see anything from take-off to landing, and flying a known route to another airfield, in real time.
It was weird, at first, and the instructor was very good with me until I mastered the skill of better reading the instruments shown on the Garmin display. I learned a lot more about the equipment that I had been using that morning.
We stopped for lunch, then my afternoon was spent in a simulated flight from Gatwick to Venice over the mountains, purely using the screens to navigate the mountain passes. For this, I had to plot my course first, with positioning and heights. On the way, I was diverted by air traffic control, and had to re plan the flight as we went. It was a scary experience, even though I knew that there was no way that I could crash. The simulation was so real I was sweating when I put down at Venice.
On Thursday, the weather was ideal for my actual test, rain, and low cloud. We plotted a course from Gatwick to the Isle of Mann and back via an overflight of Hull. It was a long way, but well within the range of the King Air that they had, complete with the Garmin avionics that I used. I won’t say the trip was enjoyable, as I was on tenterhooks the whole time, but we did the circuit, flew over mountains and sea, and arrived back in Gatwick having to circle for a while to allow commercial liners to land in front of us. I found that the circling bit was the most un-nerving part of the whole flight, like being spun while blindfolded.
When we landed, I was given the certification and congratulated on my ability, as well as my innate sense of position. I drove home, in the rain, wishing that the Audi had some of the computer skills that the plane had. It could tell you exactly where you were, true, and like many cars these days, had autonomous steering, but lacked the screen to tell you what was around you. I suppose that if you let the car do the steering, you just read the paper and hoped for the best.
I went to the studio with Chloe on Friday, after spending a relaxing Thursday evening with the screenplay. David and Cecil were starting to work through the scenes which had just the two of us in, set in hotels, behind bushes, in cars, and in the safe room in our cottage that allowed us to escape the second contact with the murderers. We worked through the morning and David told us that we were needed back to start filming on Monday. We had lunch in the canteen, then Chloe drove me to Gatwick to pick up the Piper and would wait for me at Redhill.
On Monday, we got serious with making the film. The story was simple. We were visiting a friend in hospital when we saw three men, dressed in scrubs, come out of a room. We were both highly sensitive of a man’s persona, having both been subject to an abusive father, the main reason why we were still both single. These guys looked shady, so we went into the room where they had just left, to find a policeman on the floor, a bullet hole in his forehead, and two men in beds, handcuffed to the frames, with bullet holes in their chests.
We go back into the corridor, making sure the men had gone, and raise the alarm. The men escape the police that swarm the hospital, but we could give good descriptions. Our background is revealed during the interview, with our names coming up on the computer. The chase starts when we are at home. Because of our previous experiences, we had a safe room with a secret entrance through a door behind a pantry wall. It had a couple of screens showing the kitchen and there were a couple of cameras showing the outside of the house.
Chloe had been outside, weeding, when she saw the murderers park in the lane. She dashed inside and we went into the safe room to see what happened. We watched as they came into the house, guns in hand, and searched. When they left, they had put a couple of microphones in the kitchen and lounge, to let them know when we were home. We had backpacks and walking gear in the safe room, so changed, silently finding our money and papers, then leaving the house before putting on our boots and walking away.
We purchased a burner phone from a town some way away, and let the police know that we were on the run. We had some close calls, as the gang seemed to know where we were, leading to the scene in the hotel room where I’m given a stern talking to. We decide that the burner phone is compromised, so tossed it onto the back of a passing lorry and got another.
We are holed up in a barn when two men come in. We stay still as they talk, quietly, and find themselves a warm spot on the other side of the barn. From what they were saying, we realised that they were running, like us, but were escapees from a mental hospital where they had been put when they had finally argued with their abusive parents. In the morning, we reveal ourselves and try to calm them down, telling them that we were on the run as well. We form a little group and stay in the barn for several days, learning about each other and slowly developing trust.
That’s when the film turns around. We plan a trick which would solve both our problems at the same time. They still had siblings at home that they wanted to save, so we set up a scenario where the two of us make ourselves seen near the house that the boys had escaped from, then call the police on our new burner to tell them that we had been taken in by the people in the house. After a while, we call the local station to tell them that suspicious characters were lurking near the house.
The gang arrived and stormed the house, having been tipped off by the snitch in the force. They shoot the parents, but are then surrounded by the local police, ending in a gunfight with the gang killed. We all turn up and the boys lead the local police to the cellar where four of their siblings are chained to shackles on the wall. We explain why we were there and our idea who the snitch had been. The whole thing gets cleared up and I get to stay in his old house with the oldest of the boys, looking after his siblings, while Chloe heads back to our cottage with the younger one. The fact that they are a good five to ten years younger than us is glossed over, as we are still beautiful sisters. OK, it’s far-fetched but this is the movies, everything is far-fetched.
We had finished all the studio work and were about to head out to locations when I got a call to say that my father had died. My plans could now be set in motion. I called the casket maker to tell them to take the coffin to HM Prison, Berwyn, for the body of Alec Carl Curtis. I contacted Smithers and told him that I would be bringing three wives and two sisters with me in a week, and asked if we could stay on base as I planned to fly him back to London. He told me that I would be able to land at Northolt for the body to be transferred to a hearse. I rang my friendly funeral director and told him that we would be landing at Northolt, rather than London. He was happy with that. I then called up all the family that I had phone numbers for.
After that, it was just a matter of collecting all the others when they arrived and putting them up in a hotel near the house. I took them into London to our salon, dress supplier and called on the cosmetics company to be at the dress shop to make sure all of them looked good. As the overseas family flew in, we met them and took them to the hotel in London.
On the day we were to fly north, I had his flying suit and some underwear in a bag. We flew to Shawbury that afternoon, in the 600. I was flying, with Chloe in the second seat. Mum, Janet, May, and Linda were in the back. We landed at Shawbury, and I handed the bag to Smithers to take to the prison. That’s when things stopped going as I had originally envisaged.
Smithers told me that, although my father had been in prison, he had still been a serving pilot with campaign medals, so would be given a full-dress farewell by the base. It was a quiet dinner, that night, and we all dressed in our black outfits the next morning. We were taken out to the tarmac in a minibus, where two lines of officers stood at ease. The plane was sitting there, ready to go, and there was an order to stand to attention as the hearse bearing the coffin came into the base, led by an Air Force Jeep.
It was extremely moving as six officers slid the coffin out of the hearse and loaded it into the plane, locking it in place with the specially made shackles. The guard of honour presented arms and were then dismissed, marching away from the plane. I thanked Smithers and he told me that we would have an escort down to Northolt. We got on board, closed up and I asked the tower for permission to start. That’s when I found out that my call sign for this trip was Black One, and that my airspeed had been nominated so that a helicopter could keep up.
I made a very gentle take-off this time, climbing to ten thousand, as told, and headed for Northolt. We had a helicopter on each side of us, keeping pace, until about halfway, when they peeled off to be replaced by a pair of gunships that escorted us all the way into Northolt, only peeling off when we were on final approach. It was a surreal experience. On the ground, at Northolt, we were greeted by another armed guard of honour as we left the plane. The Major, Horatio and the Chief Inspector were there as well.
The coffin was taken out of the plane and loaded onto a hearse to be taken to the funeral home. When it left, it was in the centre of a small convoy of a police car in front, and a Military Police car behind. I had spoken to the funeral director and told him that I would see him the next day, at the viewing, to finalise the proceedings.
The Major waved to a squaddie who came over with two suitcases which we loaded in the plane. I asked why there was such reverence for a fallen officer, and the Major said that he had earned the respect in his years of service, even if he had died in prison. What my father had given them, over the years, and with what had been in the plane, was enough to wipe his record clean. He couldn’t tell me the details, but he did tell me to keep an eye out for arrests that would start after the funeral.
We were allowed some time to freshen up, then were back in the plane to go back to Redhill. Adrian was there with a minibus to take the others to the hotel and Mum, me, and Chloe back to the house. Tomorrow, they would all be given a tour of the studio, and would be shown some of the film, so far. I was keen to see what was in the suitcases, as they were quite heavy. I did, however, curb my enthusiasm.
The whole group were taken to the studio the next day, where there were several film and TV stars to show them around, Chloe becoming a fast favourite around the place. We all had lunch in the canteen and discussed what had happened the day before. I explained to David what had happened, and he was incredulous when I said that we were flanked by gunships into Northolt. He told me that there had been a snippet on the evening news, with the newsreader wondering who had been so very important as the film of us on approach to Northolt was shown. It had been, like so much on the news, filmed on a phone by a member of the public.
The next day, we were all in black once more, as we took the A4 and both A8s to the funeral home, where there was to be a special viewing, our drivers being Adrian, Larry, and Brendon. We were joined there by the rest of the family that I organised cars for. The twin brothers from the first marriage had turned out to be living near to Heathrow, both flying for an airline as Flight Engineers. The other brother had come in from Bahrain, saying that his mother couldn’t come. Nobody would come, in the end, from Jakarta, but the other sister had come in from Germany with her mother.
Chloe and I had met the overseas visitors as they arrived and got them settled into their hotel, giving them a sheet with the viewing place and time, and then the actual funeral. We could see the family resemblance when we had met, spent some time, and then let them enjoy their stay while we did the collection of his body.
The funeral home was crowded when we got there. Bert had come to take Mum home afterwards, the visitors were there, and there was a small contingent of fans outside, having heard, through the fan club, that we would be there. Agnes was there with a photographer, the Major and the Chief inspector were there, in full uniform, along with Smithers and four uniformed and armed Air Force officers who stood at each corner by the now open casket. Jim, Belle, Cynthia, and Moyra were there, even a representative of the airline he flew for,
It was all very hushed as we took our final look at the reason that we were all here. In death, he looked almost boyish, and the wife from Germany broke down in tears at her first sight of him. The twins had never seen him, as he had gone long before they could walk. Our brother from Bahrain looked on him with distain, at first, but was then caught up in the general feeling of loss. I had organised my own photographer and was able to get good pictures of all the families, as singles and as groups, with a last picture of us all together, four of the seven wives, four of the five sisters and all the three brothers. It was, for me, one of the best things I had ever done.
The actual funeral was interesting. The funeral director had found a good-sized church for the service, and the coffin was on a stand, still with four on guard, The place was packed with the families, some of their friends, many of our friends from the film industry, and Agnes, along with some more scribes and photographers. It had broken that Alec Curtis, father of Julia Leigh, was being buried today, so there was a good contingent of fans. The service was mostly non-denominational, and then the body was loaded into a hearse for the final trip to Fulham North Sheen, with a long line of black cars behind it.
There, he was lowered into the ground, and a bugler played ‘Taps’. We took turns dropping earth onto the coffin and then went back to our cars to be driven back to the church, where our own transport had been parked. I had booked a function room in the hotel where our overseas visitors were staying, and we had a family wake, finally able to ease into really knowing each other. I found that I could talk aircraft to the twins, films to the one from Bahrain, and everything under the sun to our sister and aunt from Germany.
By the time Adrian drove me and Chloe back to the house, we had addresses and contact details of everyone. May and Bob were staying in the hotel for a few days before going back to Carlisle, the Bahrain and German relatives would be staying over as well. I had told them that they could take as long as they wanted. Bert took Mum home. Janet, and Linda, would have a couple of days before going back to Kings Lynne.
I just wanted to go home and sleep. It had been a stressful couple of weeks but exciting at the same time. I needed rest, and the studio didn’t want us back for a few days. The next day, I opened the suitcases and pulled out what was in them.
There was a lot of paperwork. The Major had given me his service record, in full, along with the trial records. I had the marriage certificates once more, and a lot of scrapbooks, journals, and photo albums that my father had saved. In one journal, marked ‘One’, there was a birth certificate folded inside the first page. I opened it up and read what it told me. That’s when I shouted, “You bloody bastard” and started laughing so hard that Adrian and Chloe rushed into the office to see what was wrong.
Marianne Gregory © 2024
Comments
Hmmmm... That was a bit of a reaction.
Wonder if this means she'll need to revise the script for her documentary now.
Something Outrageous
What can it be?
A great episode, Marianne, but I'm sad that the next is the last.
I was on a flight in Papua New Guinea when our pilot was obtaining his instrument certification. We flew from Mount Hagen to Lae with the windscreen covered with brown paper (this was 50 some years ago) and the examiner riding shotgun as co-pilot. Obviously we made it OK.
The maxim was "There are old pilots and there are bold pilots, but there are no old, bold, pilots".
My mother's fear of flying
... Stems from a light aircraft flight from Port Moresby, thru the mountains to Popondetta in the late 60s. The turbulence was apparently quite dramatic and threw the little plane around quite close to the mountain walls in the tight valleys.
Flying In PNG
Was never a very nice experience. Nearly all of it was done in small single-engine or twin-engine planes unless you were going between the major airports like Port Moresby and Lae. And there are mountains everywhere. Also most of the pilots were young and inexperienced, just there to get their hours up. I had some pretty hairy flights during the five + years that I was there, so I can really sympathize with your mother.
Dear Daddy
LOL...............Could it be that dear Daddy left an "Up Yours?"
Marianne G you create some great characters in your stories that I look forward to reading the next episode so coming to the end of a story line is very deflating.
Will