The Viscounts DaughterChapter 6 Richard
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The Viscounts DaughterChapter 4: Richard free porn video
I watched Andrea drive away with a heavy heart. There was no denying that she had affected me. I thought I was a whisker of falling in love with her! It was pointless, as she could never know. Telling her could have placed her in an invidious position. Her parting comments told me that she had feelings for me, but could not declare them. Bringing it out into the open it would make it fact, not speaking of it could allow the pretence that it wasn't so. I felt guilty. I should not have allowed her to stay, now she would have to take up my profession, that of actor. She would be acting twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, but unlike me, she would not be paid nor would she have time away from the stage. Would that we could go back six days and change everything. Yet if we could do that, I would not experience the wonder of making love to this beautiful, challenging, funny and interesting woman.
The telephone rescued me from introspection. It was John Lilman. "Richard, it's back to Elstree for you. We restart shooting on Monday."
Without Denniman, the film moved quickly and easily. I had read the whole script and understood the message. Our scenes are not necessarily shot in sequence. Scenes that require the same set are shot together. There is the dichotomy of possibly shooting the first scene and the last scene back to back. However, as the scenes are shot the story came together gradually and we moved quickly to having the whole thing in the can. The actors were released and the unedited film was handed over to the director and the editor to turn it into something that we hoped the public would enjoy. We had taken six weeks and I was considering a week or two without work when John Lilman asked me to come and see him. "Richard, have you read the script I sent you?" He asked without greeting.
"Yes. Mr. Lilman. I have."
"And?"
"Do you really want me to do another film in uniform? I have only just finished this one."
"Ah but Richard. You look so good in uniform." He grinned. Gossip suggested that Lilman was homosexual. I ignored his comment.
"I have read the script and it is very good. What part do you see me in?"
"I'm promoting you from lieutenant to captain for this one." That was a surprise. The captain was one of the two main characters sharing most of the dialogue with a German officer. This was good for me. "Ok, John, what are you going to pay me? Don't mess around else I shall have to get my agent to negotiate for me." He named a figure; I looked dubious. He then offered a percentage of two points of the box-office receipts. That could be good if the film did well. "I shall want royalties if you sell it to television and of course repeats."
"Same two percent." He said." I stuck out my hand.
"Deal. Now I have to go and tell my agent, who will tear his hair out, ripping into me for negotiating my own deal. He would suggest that he could get a better deal."
"No he wouldn't, Richard. I've already spoken to him."
That took care of the next six months. Within three weeks, I flew out to Algeria to join the crew. The story was actually set in Libya, but that country was deemed too unsettled and the production team felt that they had found the right kind of desert in Algeria. As John had mentioned this was a multi-national production with finance coming from The U.K., Germany, and India. Reflecting the financing, the cast was also multi-national with British, Germans, Italians, Australians and South Africans. As there was no U.S finance, there were no American actors involved. The producers understood for that reason they had little chance of selling the film in North America. However, the intended market was Europe. The moral of the screenplay was that when Europeans stop fighting each other and start working together they live better. I am an actor, not a politician so my thoughts on that have no bearing. I did, however get on very well with one of the German cast, Helmut Scheer. He played the part of a Wehrmacht officer. In a nutshell, he was leading a small detachment on reconnaissance and they had become trapped in quicksand, which I understand was always a threat in the desert war. I led a similar patrol and came upon them. They outgunned us, but we had mobility, which they didn't. We couldn't take them prisoner because of the risk of becoming bemired as they were, and they could not take us prisoner, as they couldn't go anywhere. After threats made and ignored by and from both sides common sense took over. The Brits helped the Germans out of the quicksand and after shaking hands and bemoaning the fact that we had to fight against each other we all went on our way.
This was a film that could not have been made even twenty years ago, as it showed the Germans in a human light. The days of depicting the Germans as unfeeling monsters were done. We had a few days charging around the desert. I with my squad in a M3 half-track, and Helmut and his squad in a Hanomag the German equivalent of the M3. It was great fun with a purpose giving the director and editor plenty of footage for background. Helmut and I talked quite a lot in the inevitable breaks in shooting when the light wasn't quite right despite the battery of lights the crew had brought, or when the Berbers, the local inhabitants, came along to watch what was going on and would get into camera shot. They were persuaded to leave with a gift of money, thereby ensuring that they would be there the next day for more money. The Berbers also had a very good business by finding items before they were actually lost. They would come into the camp with them and leave with even more money. Whilst this inevitable delay was going on Helmut and I would sit in the shade of the canteen and drink coffee. His command of English was superb. I asked him about that. "It's simple. If a German or anyone who speaks a minority language wants to get on in the world they have to learn English." He replied. "English is spoken the world over. You speak it, the Australians speak it, and the Indians speak it. It is the first foreign language the Chinese learn, it is even rumoured that the Americans speak it." He grinned. A German with a sense of humour! "There are thousands of films made every year; sixty percent of them will be made with English the predominant language. I include Bollywood films, as there are many languages and dialects in India so English is the catchall language. I want to get on in this business so perforce I have to speak English."
The nearest city and good hotels to our set was Oran, some sixty miles away over poor roads, so the production had set up a tented town for the actors and crew who would be needed every day. It is astounding how many people are required to film a drama. Leaving out the actors and bit-part players the crew can often be anything up to a hundred. The most important amongst them are the Director, the first assistant Director and possibly a second assistant Director. Next came the director of photography who supervises the photography for the whole film along with the cameramen who actually operate the cameras. There is a supervising sound editor who records everything in multiple channels. Then there are the electricians with a Lighting Director and that oddly named position of Best Boy, who is rarely young enough to be called a boy. Actually there are two 'Best Boys' Best Boy Electric and Best Boy Grip. Best Boy Electric is one of the king-pins in lighting; the Lighting Director with the Director have the ideas, it was the Best Boy who makes it happen. Best Boy Grip works with the Key Grip, and they are instrumental in making sure that all the camera equipment, Cameras, Dollies, Track etc are in place. The term came from the sixteenth century where indentured apprentices learned a craft. The longest serving apprentice having learned almost everything about the craft would work unsupervised for much of the time and was called the Best Boy.
Thankfully we did not have to put up with the same conditions the combatants experienced when the actual battles were taking place, but it did give us an idea. I was damned pleased that I was not here in 1941 and 1942. The uniforms we wore were very quickly stained with dried sweat, dead flies and dirt. Our military advisor told us it was very authentic. He should know for he was here at that time. Actually, we had two military advisors, one was English and the other German and they both advised us with personal experience of the North African campaign. Two sprightly eighty year olds who could drink us under the table, enemies sixty years ago and now sitting reminiscing and laughing together. Helmut and I would join them most evenings learning about their war. Lieutenant Colonel (Shorty) Williams would praise the equipment the Afrika Korps had. His opposite number Major Emmerlich, who told us he was a Gefreiter (Corporal) during the war agreed with the comment, "Ja! However, we didn't have enough. The Russian campaign came first in everything."
"We got supplied by that well known armament supplier 'Muddle and That'll do' Ltd." Offered Shorty. "Our Defence Procurement Civil Servants thought that they knew what we needed better than the troops on the ground. They spent millions on the Crusader tank. It was designed to take on the Mark two and three German tanks; yet it was delayed so much the German tanks had been upgraded even before the Crusader came into service. The best you could say about the Crusader was that it was fast; it could get into trouble quickly and get out again just as quickly. Broke down often though. Sand! That got into everything."
"True." Agreed Emmerlich. "What about that American tank, you called it the Grant, and the Shermans. We loved them; they were so easy to brew. We called them Tommy Cookers."
"Oh yes." Laughed Shorty. "The Grant had the big gun in the hull not the turret. When the crew tried to get the gun to bear, they presented a huge target for the eighty-eights." Helmut touched my arm and indicated we should leave then to it. We wandered off towards our respective quarters. The last thing we heard was two old men warbling 'Lili Marlene' One voice in German the other in English.
There is an understanding when away on location. The same understanding that the Yanks mooted about Las Vegas. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Temporary liaisons on location lasted for the location and were then forgotten by the participants. As I strolled towards my tent, I was joined by Monica, one of our Production Assistants, usually known as continuity girls. "Sleeping alone, Richard?"
"I think I should, Monica. Had one more drink with Helmut than I should and as you know we have an early start tomorrow."
Her face tightened into a moue of disappointment. "I could delay your start in the morning. I suspect you would give better performance if you were fully relaxed. I could help you there if you 'rehearsed ' with me tonight." It's a strange thing about continuity. They seem to be just another assistant on the set; yet had the power to stop the shoot at any time if they spot something that doesn't tally with the previous scene.
"I really wish that I hadn't taken those last two drinks, Monica, but I doubt that I could 'rehearse' to your full expectations. However I'll do my best."
Monica was known as the 'voracious virgin'. Completely uninhibited and willing to try anything twice, thrice or more, except she was a virgin in one place and intended to remain that way until she married her long-term fiancé and could proudly present him with her hymen. In the meantime, she was very eager to indulge in all other pleasures that man and woman or woman and woman can devise. It was unsatisfying for me although Monica left happily at two o' clock in the morning with a kiss that had as much suction as a vacuum cleaner, saying "see you soon, lover." I was conflicted. In some way, I felt I had been unfaithful to Andrea although I was certain that she would be having relations with her husband, how could she avoid that? I hadn't forgotten her it was if my mind had put her memory into a little compartment in my head that I could take out from time to time and bask in the warmth of those memories. Those days with Andrea could not be cast aside so easily; they were important to me. I could not say it to Andrea as that would have put an unfair burden on her, but I could admit it to myself. I really had fallen in love! Monica was the catalyst. I hadn't planned to put this to the test, to know if I could be attracted to another woman. However, I was examined and I had my answer. Yes, I could but Monica was a pale shadow compared to Andrea.
In the original novel upon which this film was based there were no female characters. This was unacceptable in a screenplay so I had a scene with a young starlet taking the part of a nurse. I thought perhaps my melancholy mood would affect my performance; it appeared not as the director seemed delighted with every take. I was wary about one scene when I had to cross the supposed quick sands. This being a film we couldn't use actual quicksands; that would introduce an unpredictable element. Therefore, our special effects department had come up with fake quicksand. It looked like sand but it wasn't. It behaved like quicksand but without the unpredictable element. It was only deep enough to suggest the Hanomag; the half-track issued to the Wehrmacht in quantity was bemired. My character was supposed to have been told by someone who dredged for shellfish on Morecambe Sands, an area notorious for quicksand how to extract yourself if caught. Fall flat was the advice, thereby spreading your weight over a larger area. I was to do exactly that and by rolling over gently could traverse the quicksand. I was not keen to do this. Despite my misgivings, I did as suggested and it worked. My character had demonstrated the technique to the trapped Germans and it was my turn to laugh, as Helmut's character had to do likewise.
I wasn't unhappy to leave Algeria. The country had much to see and the hotels in Algiers were extremely luxurious. However, we had little chance to enjoy them apart from a couple of nights before flying back to the U.K. As soon as I had settled back into my flat, I phoned my agent. Although I had been paid well for this production the taxman would take a large chunk so I needed more work. He had been offered two scripts for me. I turned one down without reading it as it was another uniform role and I didn't want to become too identified with military roles. The other part would be a detective drama, which sounded quite interesting. He then said that I had been specifically requested by the main lead in the film. I asked him if that script could be forwarded. Ashley's prediction was coming true. Never the star but always getting good parts.
ANDREA
I went in to a Nursing home a week before I was due to give birth. I argued this move but Charles was adamant, he didn't want any last minute pregnancy problems. Ten days later, I was delivered of a beautiful baby girl. Charles may have been disappointed that it wasn't a boy, but hid his chagrin well. He went off to celebrate his success with champagne, leaving me in the nursing home to celebrate with tea and the itching of the stitches needed after a difficult time. I was of a slim build and didn't have the width of pelvis needed for an easy birth. He returned the next day with flowers and the news that he had registered the birth and named our child Charlotte. It was too late to argue, although it would have been nice to discuss her name beforehand. Whilst he was there, Charlotte cried a little. Mothers know instinctively when their baby needs feeding as did the nurse. She lifted Charlotte out of the cradle and gave her to me. I unbuttoned my maternity robe and held Charlotte to my breast. Charles was almost indignant. "You are surely not going to feed your child yourself?"
"Mother's milk is best, Charles." I argued.
"But ... But that is disgusting!"
"It's natural. This is what breasts are designed for." It suddenly struck me. For all the years of our marriage, Charles had never wished to see me naked. When he visited me in bed, he would lift my nightgown sufficiently for access and replace it when he had deposited. Did he find me unattractive, or did he find the female body embarrassing? My early move into the Nursing Home was for a similar reason. Charles would not have wanted anything so disturbing as my waters breaking at home, or even the possibility that I would have to give birth at home.
Charlotte continued to suck and Charles made his usual quick getaway. "Need to get back to the office." He excused himself.
If you were to ask, most women will tell you that feeding their child is a most wonderful experience. It instils a most serene mood and the nurses called it bonding. It also gave me time to think, first my sudden realisation about Charles. I was certain that it wasn't just my body he found embarrassing, perhaps it was all women that disturbed him. I couldn't be that ugly, after all Richard found me attractive and as an actor he had seen and for all I know been intimate with many beautiful women. Those thoughts moved on as they always did to Rich. Those few days had been days of wonder for me. For a woman being admired and desired so much is close to paradise and Rich had taken me there. It had crossed my mind that Rich could be the father and not Charles. Thinking back, Charles had been most regular a visitor to my bed in those eight years of our marriage. Once a week he would come into my bed unless I was with my monthly, when he would hardly touch me. Forty times a year for eight years amounts to over three hundred and fifty attempts of impregnating me, yet six weeks after my escapade with Rich I found I was pregnant. The more I thought about it the more certain I was that Charlotte was Richard's child. On one level, I was happy, as in that case Charlotte had been conceived in rapture. On another level, I had to convince myself that Charles was her father. I had to believe that in order to go on with my marriage and my life.
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