not my mother.’
So Marcus was going to play Ilsa himself, and also Victor, her husband, and Rick the hero and various policemen. Ilsa was a Swedish beauty noted for her accent and her hats. Victor was a Czech freedom fighter with a cough. Rick had a drawl and a trench coat. And Marcus had voices for them all.
He explained the story to Tug. ‘Rick loves Ilsa, but she left him for Victor. You understand?’
Tug nodded.
‘And then she comes back and says she loves Rick. You see?’
Tug nodded again.
‘So Rick sends her back to Victor. Got it?’
Tug said he thought that sounded all right.
Marcus was silent for a moment. ‘There’s a nightclub scene,’ he said. ‘I don’t suppose you can play the piano?’
Tug shook his head.
‘But you can sing, of course. I wonder what. It needs to be haunting, emotional. Yet uplifting, resonant with hope. And at the same time sad and poignant.’
Together, they thought about this.
‘How about “The Bear Went Over the Mountain”?’ Marcus said. ‘That should strike the right sort of note.’
‘All right,’ Tug said. ‘But will there be biscuits?’
They were busy all morning: Ilsa met Rick, and then Rick met Victor, and then all three met together, which required some tricky camerawork from Laura. Tug sang his song and Marcus – to his delight – had fifteen costume changes. They filmed a lot of the action in slow-motion, and quite often zoomed in. It was a cheerful, energetic session. Only Martha was quiet.
At eleven o’clock they stopped for biscuits and perched around the studio, chatting. Marcus was wearing the trench coat, high-heeled shoes and a fez, and he addressed Laura and Tug, who were partly listening, on the importance of style in the movie business.
‘Though teamwork is important too,’ he added generously. ‘Even the greatest stars need back-up.’
He was not his usual upbeat self, however; his voice was un-Marcus-like, flatter, almost normal. He exchanged anxious glances with Laura and they both kept turning to look at Martha, who sat on the floor looking at the carpet.
Eventually the conversation died, and when Martha looked up she found Laura and Marcus watching her in silence.
Something about the silence made her eyes fill with tears.
‘How many hiding places were there?’ Laura asked quietly.
‘Six.’
‘And what did you find?’ Marcus asked.
Martha told him.
He shook his head sadly. ‘I can’t believe BestValue gin is any good at all,’ he said.
Laura asked what Martha had done with the drink and Martha told her.
‘I helped,’ Tug said. ‘It made noises.’
‘What did your dad say?’
‘He said he wasn’t a drunk.’
‘I’ve heard that one before.’
Martha sat on the floor feeling helpless. ‘I want to help him,’ she said, ‘but I don’t know how. I can’teven talk to him. He won’t listen. And he doesn’t tell me the truth.’
‘Team work,’ Marcus said. He was looking at her with his soft, puzzled face. ‘We’ll come up with a plan to help you.’
‘What plan?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
They all thought for a while.
‘What about sending him to a rehab clinic?’ Marcus said. ‘The Priory, for instance.’
‘What’s a rehab clinic?’
‘Where celebrities go for a rest,’ Laura said. ‘Very expensive.’
‘I’m only being practical,’ Marcus said. ‘I’m surprisingly practical. Ask Martha.’
‘You are. But I don’t think that would work for us, Marcus. We’re not celebrities.’
‘What about the doctor?’ Laura said.
‘Dad doesn’t like going to the doctor. He says the doctor doesn’t do anything.’
‘Not him.
You
. Ask the doctor’s advice. What’s he like?’
‘He’s nice. I don’t know. I’d be nervous.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Marcus said. ‘Keep you company. Smooth the way.’
‘And Tug can stay with me,’ Laura said. ‘We can do some camerawork, Tug.’
‘You have to watch out for him around equipment,’ Marcus said. ‘He’s
So Marcus was going to play Ilsa himself, and also Victor, her husband, and Rick the hero and various policemen. Ilsa was a Swedish beauty noted for her accent and her hats. Victor was a Czech freedom fighter with a cough. Rick had a drawl and a trench coat. And Marcus had voices for them all.
He explained the story to Tug. ‘Rick loves Ilsa, but she left him for Victor. You understand?’
Tug nodded.
‘And then she comes back and says she loves Rick. You see?’
Tug nodded again.
‘So Rick sends her back to Victor. Got it?’
Tug said he thought that sounded all right.
Marcus was silent for a moment. ‘There’s a nightclub scene,’ he said. ‘I don’t suppose you can play the piano?’
Tug shook his head.
‘But you can sing, of course. I wonder what. It needs to be haunting, emotional. Yet uplifting, resonant with hope. And at the same time sad and poignant.’
Together, they thought about this.
‘How about “The Bear Went Over the Mountain”?’ Marcus said. ‘That should strike the right sort of note.’
‘All right,’ Tug said. ‘But will there be biscuits?’
They were busy all morning: Ilsa met Rick, and then Rick met Victor, and then all three met together, which required some tricky camerawork from Laura. Tug sang his song and Marcus – to his delight – had fifteen costume changes. They filmed a lot of the action in slow-motion, and quite often zoomed in. It was a cheerful, energetic session. Only Martha was quiet.
At eleven o’clock they stopped for biscuits and perched around the studio, chatting. Marcus was wearing the trench coat, high-heeled shoes and a fez, and he addressed Laura and Tug, who were partly listening, on the importance of style in the movie business.
‘Though teamwork is important too,’ he added generously. ‘Even the greatest stars need back-up.’
He was not his usual upbeat self, however; his voice was un-Marcus-like, flatter, almost normal. He exchanged anxious glances with Laura and they both kept turning to look at Martha, who sat on the floor looking at the carpet.
Eventually the conversation died, and when Martha looked up she found Laura and Marcus watching her in silence.
Something about the silence made her eyes fill with tears.
‘How many hiding places were there?’ Laura asked quietly.
‘Six.’
‘And what did you find?’ Marcus asked.
Martha told him.
He shook his head sadly. ‘I can’t believe BestValue gin is any good at all,’ he said.
Laura asked what Martha had done with the drink and Martha told her.
‘I helped,’ Tug said. ‘It made noises.’
‘What did your dad say?’
‘He said he wasn’t a drunk.’
‘I’ve heard that one before.’
Martha sat on the floor feeling helpless. ‘I want to help him,’ she said, ‘but I don’t know how. I can’teven talk to him. He won’t listen. And he doesn’t tell me the truth.’
‘Team work,’ Marcus said. He was looking at her with his soft, puzzled face. ‘We’ll come up with a plan to help you.’
‘What plan?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
They all thought for a while.
‘What about sending him to a rehab clinic?’ Marcus said. ‘The Priory, for instance.’
‘What’s a rehab clinic?’
‘Where celebrities go for a rest,’ Laura said. ‘Very expensive.’
‘I’m only being practical,’ Marcus said. ‘I’m surprisingly practical. Ask Martha.’
‘You are. But I don’t think that would work for us, Marcus. We’re not celebrities.’
‘What about the doctor?’ Laura said.
‘Dad doesn’t like going to the doctor. He says the doctor doesn’t do anything.’
‘Not him.
You
. Ask the doctor’s advice. What’s he like?’
‘He’s nice. I don’t know. I’d be nervous.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Marcus said. ‘Keep you company. Smooth the way.’
‘And Tug can stay with me,’ Laura said. ‘We can do some camerawork, Tug.’
‘You have to watch out for him around equipment,’ Marcus said. ‘He’s
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