Page 25 of A Change of Location
“Because there’s a brief stop in Newbridge High Street to inspect a room in the Guildhall. If we use it for the magistrate’s court, that’s one less interior to construct. In the same street there’s also a potential jail exterior. I’ve got pictures.”
Alistair emerged from his corner to look at them. Standing behind her, he placed his hands on the back of her chair. “Right,” he said when she pulled up her photographs of an imposing stone structure. “You included it in your presentation. Which, I must again tell you, was brilliant.”
Hannah wasn’t the only one sucking up.
When not contending with a multitude of details, she worried that she might have oversold Stanwell to her production colleagues. She couldn’t afford to lose whatever amount of credibility she possessed around here.
Alistair fielded a call on his mobile—from their tech scout, judging from his answers to a string of questions about tomorrow’s recce. She waited, expectantly, for him to pass the phone to her. During the protracted conversation, her jaw clenched tighter and tighter.
“Brill,” he said, “I’ll find out from Hannah. Cheers.” He rang off. “He’s asking if there’s an electrical schematic for Stanwell, showing all the mains.”
“Even if one exists, that doesn’t mean we’ll get our hands on it. The property owner is extremely security conscious. Besides, it’s not essential. Our generators will produce the necessary power.”
“So you don’t actually know the state of the electrical system.”
“I’ve already told Barry,” she shot back, annoyance acidifying her tone. “The entire house and the outbuildings were re-wired when the heat pump system and a solar array were installed. The place is practically carbon neutral. In addition to being attractive and historic.”
“You’re really fixated on that old pile, aren’t you?”
She regarded him with hostile eyes, resenting the implication that her wholehearted recommendation might be subjective. “I’ve scouted locations for well over a decade. I’m no newbie or novice. Of all the places I saw within a reasonable travel distance, Stanwell House and the Milver Vale satisfy our every requirement. They’re convenient to this production office and these studio facilities.”
“Convenient for you as well,” he murmured. “Makes the logistics loads easier.”
Her voice tightened even more. “I based the recommendation on serving and supporting Liz Gregorio’s vision for this film, and Owen Parry’s requirements. Full stop. I know damn well there’s no such thing as an ‘easy’ location. Each one has built-in challenges. Some are obvious at the outset, and the rest will materialize over the course of the shoot. It’s my job to minimize them.” Pleased with this speech, she defiantly stared him down, daring him to refute anything she’d said.
“No wonder you’ve got so far, so young, wee lassie,” he said, in a patronizing tone that seemed calculated to fan the flame of her anger.
The reason I’ve got so far, she almost retorted, is because I’m smart enough to defend my actions as necessary and to ignore deliberate provocation.
Forcing herself to smile serenely, she turned her attention back to her computer screen. Reviewing her checklist, she highlighted items she intended to complete by day’s end. She heard him leave the office. He often did, offering little or no explanation of his activities. Too distracted by her own responsibilities to keep track of his, she was glad to be spared inquiries about what she was doing, and why.
***
Before the van rolled out of Newbridge, Hannah leaned forward to make sure the driver was aware of the preferred route, a lesser road two thirds of the way through the roundabout on the outskirts of the town. It had the advantage of winding through the picturesque terrain between the town and Stanwell House. Her fellow passengers absorbed the surrounding vistas—rounded hills with grazing sheep, a group of cattle standing in the shade cast by a grandfather oak, and the foamy white hawthorn blossom in the hedgerows. Occasionally a bend in the road offered a glimpse of the River Milver.
The security officer met them at Stanwell’s front gate, and waved them through.
“Slowly, slowly,” Owen Parry said as the van proceeded up the drive. “It’s even more palatial than photographs indicated.”
His fellow passengers responded with a combined murmur of appreciation.
Hannah held her hand up to the window and waved to the house manager, standing in the shadow of the arched doorway.
Ron stepped forward to offer a general welcome. Singling her out, added, “Delighted to see you again, Miss Ballard.”
She performed the essential introductions, and the tour proceeded as planned. Her colleagues trooped from room to room, and her pen flew as she jotted down keywords from the director’s comments and questions. These were primarily directed at Alistair, who frequently stepped aside to dictate notes into his phone. The lighting designer took meter readings, the audio tech moved up and down the Long Gallery with his handheld recorder. The art director pointed his mobile at ceiling frescoes and artwork and sculptures and ornate carpets.
Nigel Rossiter, the co-producer, nodded at Hannah and smiled his satisfaction before descending the staircase to the Great Hall.
When the group reassembled near the front door, the set decorator enthused to the art director, “Fantastic furniture. Several centuries mixed together. Exactly that authentic and lived-in look we want.”
Ron gave the group time to assess the dining room, then led them down a stone stairway to the original kitchen and buttery and stillroom.
“Marvelous,” murmured Owen Parry. “Real possibilities here.”
A rare accolade, one that Hannah took to heart.
Their guide led them to the modern kitchen, brightened by the natural light pouring in through its tall windows, where a smartly-dressed Poppy Deane waited, with a meal laid out buffet style across a marble countertop. They lunched on prawn and artichoke salad, salmon paste spread on toast points, raspberry tarts, and a selection of pale, light wines. Martin, contradicting his claims of idiocy, had correctly guessed that alcohol would enhance the visitors’ favorable impressions of his property.
