and shirts. “At least then we can go out to shop for whatever else we may need,” she said.
“I don’t have my credit card with me,” a man said unhappily.
“I’ll take care of the clothes,” Tracy said. “It will be easier.”
Everyone was happy with this arrangement, and Gail made a list of everyone’s sizes. As daylight dawned, the Americans (Gail and Tracy) were the only ones to take advantage of the single tepid shower and, promptly at nine-thirty, Gail called the local department store. The manager was delighted to be able to accommodate Tracy Collins, and by ten o’clock Tracy had shed her silk pajamas and was wearing a turtleneck, jeans, and sneakers.
While most of the other newly clad guests headed for the stores to buy more appropriate clothing, the movie people got into company cars to drive to Silverbridge for the day’s filming.
As soon as they arrived on location, Dave put Greg in charge of finding new lodgings for the dispossessed cast and crew. The assistant director spent a very discouraging hour on the phone to various hotels, which were all booked for the next two days. He then drove to check out personally the few bed-and-breakfasts that had reported openings. At two o’clock he returned to Silverbridge.
He found the director watching the camera operators practice moving the camera to keep up with the actors. Everyone else was standing around. Greg went up to Dave, and said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” Dave moved to stand beside the chair that had been set up for him, a chair that was presently occupied by Meg. Each day she had made herself progressively more comfortable on the set and, because she never intruded but only watched, Dave had reached the point where he scarcely noticed her.
“There are no rooms to be had in any of the area hotels,” Greg said grimly . “Because of the big point-to- point this weekend, everything that is decent is booked.”
Dave groaned and began to polish his glasses with a handkerchief. “There has to be something available! Did you tell the hotel managers that you wanted a room for Tracy Collins?”
“Yes, I did. But apparently a flock of aristocracy is arriving for the race, and no one was willing to bump them.”
Dave polished harder. “There must be something that’s open!”
“I’ve found a B&B in Littleton that has three rooms and two B&Bs in Marlton that have two rooms each. But the rooms are tiny and don’t have private bathrooms. I really don’t think we can ask Tracy to sleep in them. Jon either, for that matter.”
“Shit,” Dave said. “What are we going to do?”
Greg pulled at his ponytail and looked unhappy.
Meg said, “I have an idea.”
The two men looked at her.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” Excitement bubbled in her voice. “We have extra bedrooms. Perhaps Tracy and Jon could stay with us.”
The two men looked at each other.
“There’s nothing available in the area,” Greg said. “We would have to go over an hour away to find anything remotely suitable.”
Dave finished polishing his glasses and returned them to his face. He frowned as he looked at Meg. “Do you think your brother would agree to such an arrangement?”
Meg said promptly, “If you’re willing to pay him what you were paying the Wiltshire Arms, I rather think he might.”
There was a pause as Dave continued to frown, and Greg pulled once more at his ponytail. Then Dave said, “All right, Lady Margaret. Would you be kind enough to ask him and let me know what he says?”
Meg removed her fragile frame from Dave’s chair. “I’ll go and find him now.”
“Great. Thanks,” Dave said. Then, as Meg moved out of earshot, he rolled his eyes. “Lord Silverbridge is going to end up being half the bloody cost of this picture.”
Greg said nervously, “Don’t you think I should look at the setup before we make a deal, Dave? The bathroom arrangements in these old places are sometime s fairly primitive.
“I don’t have my credit card with me,” a man said unhappily.
“I’ll take care of the clothes,” Tracy said. “It will be easier.”
Everyone was happy with this arrangement, and Gail made a list of everyone’s sizes. As daylight dawned, the Americans (Gail and Tracy) were the only ones to take advantage of the single tepid shower and, promptly at nine-thirty, Gail called the local department store. The manager was delighted to be able to accommodate Tracy Collins, and by ten o’clock Tracy had shed her silk pajamas and was wearing a turtleneck, jeans, and sneakers.
While most of the other newly clad guests headed for the stores to buy more appropriate clothing, the movie people got into company cars to drive to Silverbridge for the day’s filming.
As soon as they arrived on location, Dave put Greg in charge of finding new lodgings for the dispossessed cast and crew. The assistant director spent a very discouraging hour on the phone to various hotels, which were all booked for the next two days. He then drove to check out personally the few bed-and-breakfasts that had reported openings. At two o’clock he returned to Silverbridge.
He found the director watching the camera operators practice moving the camera to keep up with the actors. Everyone else was standing around. Greg went up to Dave, and said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” Dave moved to stand beside the chair that had been set up for him, a chair that was presently occupied by Meg. Each day she had made herself progressively more comfortable on the set and, because she never intruded but only watched, Dave had reached the point where he scarcely noticed her.
“There are no rooms to be had in any of the area hotels,” Greg said grimly . “Because of the big point-to- point this weekend, everything that is decent is booked.”
Dave groaned and began to polish his glasses with a handkerchief. “There has to be something available! Did you tell the hotel managers that you wanted a room for Tracy Collins?”
“Yes, I did. But apparently a flock of aristocracy is arriving for the race, and no one was willing to bump them.”
Dave polished harder. “There must be something that’s open!”
“I’ve found a B&B in Littleton that has three rooms and two B&Bs in Marlton that have two rooms each. But the rooms are tiny and don’t have private bathrooms. I really don’t think we can ask Tracy to sleep in them. Jon either, for that matter.”
“Shit,” Dave said. “What are we going to do?”
Greg pulled at his ponytail and looked unhappy.
Meg said, “I have an idea.”
The two men looked at her.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” Excitement bubbled in her voice. “We have extra bedrooms. Perhaps Tracy and Jon could stay with us.”
The two men looked at each other.
“There’s nothing available in the area,” Greg said. “We would have to go over an hour away to find anything remotely suitable.”
Dave finished polishing his glasses and returned them to his face. He frowned as he looked at Meg. “Do you think your brother would agree to such an arrangement?”
Meg said promptly, “If you’re willing to pay him what you were paying the Wiltshire Arms, I rather think he might.”
There was a pause as Dave continued to frown, and Greg pulled once more at his ponytail. Then Dave said, “All right, Lady Margaret. Would you be kind enough to ask him and let me know what he says?”
Meg removed her fragile frame from Dave’s chair. “I’ll go and find him now.”
“Great. Thanks,” Dave said. Then, as Meg moved out of earshot, he rolled his eyes. “Lord Silverbridge is going to end up being half the bloody cost of this picture.”
Greg said nervously, “Don’t you think I should look at the setup before we make a deal, Dave? The bathroom arrangements in these old places are sometime s fairly primitive.
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