Classic Calls the Shots by Amy Myers Page A

and not unnaturally it threw me off track. ‘It means someone had it in for Angie, not the car or film,’ he went on to explain.
    â€˜But you both loved it.’
    â€˜Sure. It’s part of my life.’ He stared at it some more and then nodded – to himself, it seemed, not to me. Then he snapped into gear. ‘We’re shooting arrivals,’ he told me.
    I thought for a crazy instant that included me, but I realized this probably meant the arrivals at ‘Tranton Towers’ for the Jubilee ball weekend.
    â€˜The Auburn’s called for two o’clock. Be there, Jack.’ He turned to go, and then stopped. ‘And thanks.’
    â€˜Won’t you drive her in?’ I asked.
    I thought for a moment he would refuse again, but if so he changed his mind. I left him to it, and walked behind as the Auburn, with its owner at the wheel, slowly made its way to play its part in what would surely become movie history, just as
Running Tides
had done.
    The crew and a few cast closed around him and it was business as usual. Bill was surrounded by so many people that he was almost invisible. Not inaudible though, as his orders came over loud and clear. The professionals were at work. I waited for a while, watching technicians adjusting lighting angles on Syndale Manor’s front entrance and the two four-wheel drives with their rear-mounted cameras manoeuvring their way through the mass of people.
    I saw the other three classics driven up one by one, joining the Auburn now parked to one side of the forecourt. The Fiat 508S Tipo, the Bentley Silent Sports and the Horch were so distinctive that I expected the whole crew to stop in their tracks to applaud. They didn’t of course. Nor did the various members of the cast I could see gathered in groups. I spotted Louise, dolled up in a slinky 1930s silver-grey suit. She’d told me that silver grey, highly fashionable in May 1935 because of the Silver Jubilee, was part of Bill’s colour strategy agreed with his cinematographer. He’d been angling for some kind of effect such as Jack Cardiff had used for the Other World in
A Matter of Life and Death
,
but it hadn’t worked. Hence the use of the silver-grey theme, which was a compromise – not something that Bill was used to. Compromise or not, it suited Louise.
    The Horch, bearing ‘von Ribbentrop’, was the first car to be shot ‘arriving’ at the Manor, and I saw Chris Frant setting off in it towards the gate, followed by the four-wheel drives carrying Bill and camera crews. A bevy of other crew members and a small group of extras rushed after them. Should I join them? It was a wrench but I stayed where I was. The one thing one can bank on with the film production is that there will be a lot of waiting around. It was only eleven thirty, and I had over two hours before the Auburn took the limelight. I preferred to use the time, not waste it.
    I spotted Louise talking to a pleasant looking fair-haired man in modern jeans and leather blouson, who looked vaguely familiar.
    â€˜Jack!’ Louise had spotted me and was waving, not I thought to her companion’s pleasure. So naturally I joined them. ‘You wanted to meet Nigel Biddington,’ she said. ‘Nigel, this is Jack Colby. He works for the police.’
    â€˜The chap who found the Auburn?’ he asked.
    Nigel was about thirty, and at first his expression was one that I tend to associate with Rob and his ilk, which usually translates for me as: ‘Do I wish to know you?’ Today it didn’t. His face lit up with pleasure.
    â€˜The star of the show himself,’ he continued. ‘You saved my bacon, I can tell you. I thought I was going to have to produce a miracle at short notice.’
    He seemed sincere and inoffensive, and I could believe Louise’s claim that he was a friend only. Still, first impressions aren’t always right.
    â€˜I’ll have to leave you two car