over him.
His agent had promised to put him on the lists for as many auditions as possible.
‘Theatre, TV, film … whatever!’ Connor had advised him. ‘As long as there’s a cheque at the end of it, I’m there. What about adverts? Isn’t there anyone who’d like The Manor ’s cheery policeman advertising their product?’
‘Well, it’s a bit tricky,’ his agent had admitted. ‘If you were still in the show—’
‘If I was still in the show,’ Connor had interrupted with exasperation, ‘we wouldn’t be having this conversation! I’d still be in bed dreaming of how to spend the vast amount of money in my bank account.’
‘How many times did I tell you to set plenty of money aside?’ his agent had blurted out. ‘Acting is an unpredictable career. How many times do I have to say that?’
Sitting in the bar, Connor tried not to think of how rudely he’d replied to that comment.
Never mind, today was a good day, he was wearing his favourite Armani sweater and jacket, his hair looked fantastic and he was about to be treated to lunch by one of Channel 4’s hottest new stars, his very own dear old best friend, Annie Valentine.
‘Hey, Connor!’ He felt a firm smack on the back and turned round to see a TV producer pal he hadn’t bumped into for ages. ‘How are you doing?’ Jay asked, pulling up the seat next to Connor’s and clearly preparing to settle down for a few minutes to chat.
Connor was currently spending a lot of time prepping himself to give great answers to the ‘How are you doing?’ and ‘What are you up to?’ questions, but despite hisprep, those questions still seemed to punch him in the solar plexus every time.
‘I’m … I’m … fine,’ he began, knowing perfectly well that it wouldn’t end there.
‘So what’s the big project that’s stolen you away from The Manor ?’ Jay asked, because obviously the trade press had not been informed that Connor McCabe had in fact been axed from the Sunday schedule favourite.
This was tricky. On the one hand Connor could lie and say it was something top secret and he couldn’t breathe a word about it just yet. On the other hand, wouldn’t it be useful for Jay to know that Connor was looking for something new? He might know of some good opportunities coming up.
‘I needed something new,’ he began carefully. ‘I’ve been doing The Manor for years … I’m speaking to lots of people but I’ve not found the right thing yet. So I’m biding my time, because I want it to be absolutely the right project.’
‘Ah!’ Jay smiled.
Connor wasn’t 100 per cent happy about that smile. There was just a little hint of something in it: triumph? Sympathy? Something he wasn’t quite used to. He was used to telling people how fabulously everything was going and watching them as they tried to swallow down their jealousy and wish him well.
‘How about you?’ Connor added quickly.
‘Just been commissioned to do a new series for BBC Four,’ Jay said, giving a little wave to attract the attention of the barman. ‘Nothing fancy, nothing as well paid as you’re used to, I’m sure. But we are still looking for the lead, and we want to get a big name.’
‘Really?’ Connor tried not to sound too interested, tried in fact not to actually pant. ‘So what’s the series about?’
‘Costume drama …’ Jay began.
Connor perked up. ‘How interesting!’ He knew he looked pretty damn good in a doublet and hose. He filled a hose.
‘It’s a new, much more realistic and insightful look …’
‘Yes?’ Connor encouraged him. This sounded good; he imagined himself striding about in his doublet and hose, swashbuckling a little. Maybe it was Dick Turpin the highwayman? He’d always fancied himself as a bandit.
‘… at The Elephant Man ,’ Jay said.
Connor’s lime and soda nearly splurted from his nostrils. The Elephant Man ?
‘Oh boy,’ Connor had to tell him, ‘you’ll have a job casting a name in that part.’
‘John
His agent had promised to put him on the lists for as many auditions as possible.
‘Theatre, TV, film … whatever!’ Connor had advised him. ‘As long as there’s a cheque at the end of it, I’m there. What about adverts? Isn’t there anyone who’d like The Manor ’s cheery policeman advertising their product?’
‘Well, it’s a bit tricky,’ his agent had admitted. ‘If you were still in the show—’
‘If I was still in the show,’ Connor had interrupted with exasperation, ‘we wouldn’t be having this conversation! I’d still be in bed dreaming of how to spend the vast amount of money in my bank account.’
‘How many times did I tell you to set plenty of money aside?’ his agent had blurted out. ‘Acting is an unpredictable career. How many times do I have to say that?’
Sitting in the bar, Connor tried not to think of how rudely he’d replied to that comment.
Never mind, today was a good day, he was wearing his favourite Armani sweater and jacket, his hair looked fantastic and he was about to be treated to lunch by one of Channel 4’s hottest new stars, his very own dear old best friend, Annie Valentine.
‘Hey, Connor!’ He felt a firm smack on the back and turned round to see a TV producer pal he hadn’t bumped into for ages. ‘How are you doing?’ Jay asked, pulling up the seat next to Connor’s and clearly preparing to settle down for a few minutes to chat.
Connor was currently spending a lot of time prepping himself to give great answers to the ‘How are you doing?’ and ‘What are you up to?’ questions, but despite hisprep, those questions still seemed to punch him in the solar plexus every time.
‘I’m … I’m … fine,’ he began, knowing perfectly well that it wouldn’t end there.
‘So what’s the big project that’s stolen you away from The Manor ?’ Jay asked, because obviously the trade press had not been informed that Connor McCabe had in fact been axed from the Sunday schedule favourite.
This was tricky. On the one hand Connor could lie and say it was something top secret and he couldn’t breathe a word about it just yet. On the other hand, wouldn’t it be useful for Jay to know that Connor was looking for something new? He might know of some good opportunities coming up.
‘I needed something new,’ he began carefully. ‘I’ve been doing The Manor for years … I’m speaking to lots of people but I’ve not found the right thing yet. So I’m biding my time, because I want it to be absolutely the right project.’
‘Ah!’ Jay smiled.
Connor wasn’t 100 per cent happy about that smile. There was just a little hint of something in it: triumph? Sympathy? Something he wasn’t quite used to. He was used to telling people how fabulously everything was going and watching them as they tried to swallow down their jealousy and wish him well.
‘How about you?’ Connor added quickly.
‘Just been commissioned to do a new series for BBC Four,’ Jay said, giving a little wave to attract the attention of the barman. ‘Nothing fancy, nothing as well paid as you’re used to, I’m sure. But we are still looking for the lead, and we want to get a big name.’
‘Really?’ Connor tried not to sound too interested, tried in fact not to actually pant. ‘So what’s the series about?’
‘Costume drama …’ Jay began.
Connor perked up. ‘How interesting!’ He knew he looked pretty damn good in a doublet and hose. He filled a hose.
‘It’s a new, much more realistic and insightful look …’
‘Yes?’ Connor encouraged him. This sounded good; he imagined himself striding about in his doublet and hose, swashbuckling a little. Maybe it was Dick Turpin the highwayman? He’d always fancied himself as a bandit.
‘… at The Elephant Man ,’ Jay said.
Connor’s lime and soda nearly splurted from his nostrils. The Elephant Man ?
‘Oh boy,’ Connor had to tell him, ‘you’ll have a job casting a name in that part.’
‘John
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