A car slowed down opposite the house; the driver turned his head to stare at her. Trudie felt a jab of alarm. What was he looking at her like that for? He drove on a little way and parked. She saw him getting out of the car. Was he coming back here?
Trudie had a feeling she knew him and didn’t like him. Was he one of the neighbours? Once she had known them all, everyone who lived in the street, but over the years one by one they had died, moved out, sold up, and now she knew hardly anyone.
He began to walk back towards her. I’m not talking to him, thought Trudie. She closed the door behind her and hurried away, down the road.
The air was chilly; she shivered. Have I got my shopping bag? No, she’d forgotten it. She felt in her pocket and hadn’t got her door keys, either, so she couldn’t go back; she would have to buy a plastic bag. What had she come out to buy, though? Oh, well, it would come back to her. Trudie set out down the road in her slippered feet, an old woman with thinning grey hair, walking along in a nightdress and dressing-gown which blew around her in the winter wind.
She had turned the corner long before Jerri came out, in a panic, to look for her. The quiet, suburban street was empty.
Derek Fenn, who played the wise old desk sergeant in the series, was smoking his first cigarette of the day and coughing, hunched in his blue serge uniform.
‘That cough is getting worse. Why don’t you stop smoking before it kills you?’ Annie asked and got one of his morose looks.
‘It isn’t smoking that will kill me. It’s getting up at this hour and having to stand about in weather like this.’
He was beginning to look old, his face thinner than ever, lined and wrinkled like a monkey’s from his long holidays in sunnier places, his flesh fallen in on the elegant bones, leaving him haggard, gaunt, so that only his melancholy eyes still reminded you that he had once been the best-looking actor of his generation. Now he was grateful for a small but regular part in The Force. He had been out of work for months before he joined the cast.
Annie had worked with him in his own children’s series for a year before moving on to a part in a new play which toured the provinces before going into London and doing quite well. After that she had done a year with the Royal Shakespeare Company at Stratford-upon-Avon; she knew she needed to improve her technical grasp of acting. She had played small parts and learnt a lot; she didn’t become a star overnight. Her career had been a slow and steady rise. But she knew she owed the start of it to Derek. So did he.
Hearing from a mutual acquaintance that Annie had got the lead in a new police series, Derek had rung her and asked, ‘Would there be a part for me? Anything, darling. I need a break. I’d do it for you, you know that.’
She had heard the unspoken reminder that he had given her the first job she ever had. He wasn’t the first to ring her, pleading for a job, but she owed Derek, and she knew that the part of the sergeant hadn’t been cast yet. It was a key role, although it wasn’t a lead.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she promised. ‘It wouldn’t be a big part, though, they’re all cast. And I don’t have enough clout to get them to change their minds at this stage!’
‘Anything, darling,’ he repeated. ‘So long as I’m working.’ Then he laughed. ‘And getting paid, of course.’
‘The money won’t be wonderful.’
‘It’s got to pay better than social security!’
Harriet hadn’t been keen to give Derek a chance because he had a name as a drunk, and hadn’t done any work for months, had been written off as finished, far too high a risk even on TV.
‘I haven’t seen him in anything for a couple of years. He’s not reliable, Annie. Drunks never are.’
Annie had pleaded. ‘I’ll see he keeps off the booze! And he is good, Harriet. He’s a pro. Put him in front of a camera and he doesn’t even need to act; he’s so damned natural. He’s got that special quality – you watch him, whenever he’s on screen – know what I mean?’
Harriet had nodded. ‘I do remember that, you’re right.’ Then she had given Annie a shrewd look. ‘Why are you so keen for him to have the part?’
Annie had known what she was asking – had she had an affair with Derek? Theirs was a world of sudden emotions, brief romances, passionate affairs which faded just as fast – Harriet wouldn’t have been surprised to hear she had had a fling with Derek.
She’d met Harriet’s eyes. ‘I owe him. He gave me my first job, and he needs a break.’
Then Harriet had given her that comradely grin and patted her on her shoulder, a response Annie was going to find very familiar in the months to come. Harriet’s little pats covered a multitude of comments: sympathy, encouragement, congratulation, coaxing. That time it had been a pat which respected Annie’s loyalty.
Harriet herself was always loyal to anyone who worked with her and she was pleased when she got the same loyalty back. For her teamwork was a way of life. You had to trust the people you worked with; a chain was only as strong as the weakest link and Harriet liked to be sure of every tiny link in their chain.
‘Ok, we’ll risk it,’ she’d told Annie. ‘But if he lets us down you get the blame!’
Annie had talked a blue streak to Derek, made him swear to stay off drink if he was working next day, and always be on time.
He had promised faithfully, and he had kept his word. No doubt he still drank, but he never let it interfere with his work – and he had been perfect for that role. In fact, he’d discovered a new celebrity since the series began. He was one of the most popular characters.
It was a different sort of stardom for Derek; he wasn’t a sex symbol these days, he was a father figure who got a lot of fan mail from older women and teenagers who could have a safe crush from a distance. But at least he was in the public eye again, his face showing up in magazine and newspaper articles, people recognising him wherever he went.
Annie was glad she had got him the part. She looked at him now, and, dropping his cigarette end he trod on it, hunching himself against the chilly wind. ‘Annie, I’m sorry to ask you again, but …’
She knew what was coming at once and frowned. ‘Not another loan, Derek! I told you last time I wasn’t lending you any more money. You owe me hundreds already – and we both know you’ll never pay it back!’