morning papers that had been provided ready in the car, and when they were mere minutes away from the palace she texted Robbie.
A military guard opened the massive palace gates as they approached, and Frank eased the car around the palace building to the gravelled forecourt, where at least half a dozen trucks were parked, their contents spilled out around them. Several large motor homes stood in a cordoned-off area to one side, and it was here they headed.
Frank pulled the car up beside the largest trailer before jumping out to survey the area. He opened the door for Tessa and she stepped out, Christian a pace behind, rubbing his bleary eyes as if he’d only just woken.
Robbie already awaited them, stamping his feet to keep warm in the icy wind that whipped about them. Of course the balmy weather had been too good to last. Tessa stuck her hands deep into her coat pockets. She’d left her gloves in her car back at the hotel.
“Good morning, Mr Taylor,” Robbie said with a cheerful smile.
Christian grunted a return greeting as he climbed the stairs to the trailer. Behind his back Robbie rolled his eyes, and Tessa suppressed an uncharacteristic giggle. Robbie was a fresh-faced young Englishman, easy-going and easy to like.
“His costume stylist is already in there, then he’ll be in the make-up trailer for quite a while. Come with me and take a look at the set.”
Tessa cast a look towards the open trailer door. Christian had disappeared inside without a word so she shrugged and followed Robbie, who was already busy on his radio, letting the rest of his team know that “the eagle had landed”. She rolled her own eyes.
Robbie walked her through the lot, pointing out the make-up trailer, the mobile production office, the portable toilets for the crew and non-featured cast. Then he led her through a side door and into the palace.
Organised chaos, that was the impression that struck her first.
She’d danced in the palace ballroom many times, especially when Archduke Christian, Fredrik’s father, had been alive. Those parties had been legend, yet they’d never matched the spectacle before her now.
If she ignored the massive film lights scattered around the room, the great thick cables running along the walls, or the corrugated cardboard taped around the door frames to protect them from damage; she might have stepped back in time.
The ballroom, with its high ceiling decorated with an intricate frieze, thronged with people, all in magnificent period costume. Everywhere she looked there were massive hooped skirts, tall feathered head-dresses, and every colour of the rainbow. And that was just the women. There was more satin and silk on display than at a wedding fair.
Film crew darted between the extras, fiddling with equipment, arranging impressive displays of imported flowers, adjusting the performers’ clothes, or moving people like chess pieces on a board, their modern clothing incongruous amongst the period costumes.
Tessa wondered what time the crew must have started work to get this all ready on time, especially the elaborate wigs and make-up.
Robbie introduced her to a few people, then left her on one side of the ballroom as he was called away. She hovered by a wall, trying to keep out of everyone’s way.
Most of the activity centred around the camera, mounted on tracks that ran half the length of the room. She watched, intrigued, as rehearsals began.
Dancers swirled around the camera, parting as a young man of Christian’s height and colouring, dressed in sombre dark clothes, made his entrance and strode across the floor towards the camera, a stark figure amidst all the bright colour and movement.
Again and again they repeated the move, with Christian’s stand-in blocking his moves. The young man may have borne him a more than passing resemblance, but he didn’t move with Christian’s lightness, or have his mesmerising appeal. She had no problem dragging her gaze away from him.
“Hello,
A military guard opened the massive palace gates as they approached, and Frank eased the car around the palace building to the gravelled forecourt, where at least half a dozen trucks were parked, their contents spilled out around them. Several large motor homes stood in a cordoned-off area to one side, and it was here they headed.
Frank pulled the car up beside the largest trailer before jumping out to survey the area. He opened the door for Tessa and she stepped out, Christian a pace behind, rubbing his bleary eyes as if he’d only just woken.
Robbie already awaited them, stamping his feet to keep warm in the icy wind that whipped about them. Of course the balmy weather had been too good to last. Tessa stuck her hands deep into her coat pockets. She’d left her gloves in her car back at the hotel.
“Good morning, Mr Taylor,” Robbie said with a cheerful smile.
Christian grunted a return greeting as he climbed the stairs to the trailer. Behind his back Robbie rolled his eyes, and Tessa suppressed an uncharacteristic giggle. Robbie was a fresh-faced young Englishman, easy-going and easy to like.
“His costume stylist is already in there, then he’ll be in the make-up trailer for quite a while. Come with me and take a look at the set.”
Tessa cast a look towards the open trailer door. Christian had disappeared inside without a word so she shrugged and followed Robbie, who was already busy on his radio, letting the rest of his team know that “the eagle had landed”. She rolled her own eyes.
Robbie walked her through the lot, pointing out the make-up trailer, the mobile production office, the portable toilets for the crew and non-featured cast. Then he led her through a side door and into the palace.
Organised chaos, that was the impression that struck her first.
She’d danced in the palace ballroom many times, especially when Archduke Christian, Fredrik’s father, had been alive. Those parties had been legend, yet they’d never matched the spectacle before her now.
If she ignored the massive film lights scattered around the room, the great thick cables running along the walls, or the corrugated cardboard taped around the door frames to protect them from damage; she might have stepped back in time.
The ballroom, with its high ceiling decorated with an intricate frieze, thronged with people, all in magnificent period costume. Everywhere she looked there were massive hooped skirts, tall feathered head-dresses, and every colour of the rainbow. And that was just the women. There was more satin and silk on display than at a wedding fair.
Film crew darted between the extras, fiddling with equipment, arranging impressive displays of imported flowers, adjusting the performers’ clothes, or moving people like chess pieces on a board, their modern clothing incongruous amongst the period costumes.
Tessa wondered what time the crew must have started work to get this all ready on time, especially the elaborate wigs and make-up.
Robbie introduced her to a few people, then left her on one side of the ballroom as he was called away. She hovered by a wall, trying to keep out of everyone’s way.
Most of the activity centred around the camera, mounted on tracks that ran half the length of the room. She watched, intrigued, as rehearsals began.
Dancers swirled around the camera, parting as a young man of Christian’s height and colouring, dressed in sombre dark clothes, made his entrance and strode across the floor towards the camera, a stark figure amidst all the bright colour and movement.
Again and again they repeated the move, with Christian’s stand-in blocking his moves. The young man may have borne him a more than passing resemblance, but he didn’t move with Christian’s lightness, or have his mesmerising appeal. She had no problem dragging her gaze away from him.
“Hello,
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