Arthur sighed. ‘I’ve been trying to tell her that.’
‘Don’t tell me we’ve finally found something we’re agreed on,’ laughed Bon. ‘By the way, are you staying for supper, Arthur? You’re more than welcome. I thought I’d cook Thai tonight?’
Arthur sighed ‘I really hate it when you’re nice to me,’ he said.
Helen smiled, ignoring the banter, her mind elsewhere. She’d come a long way since the Carlton Rooms in Billingsfield. Did she really want to go back?
TWO
Natalia, Roots resident researcher and the person assigned to liaise – whatever that meant – with Helen for the duration of the filming, perched on the edge of one of the big red shabby-chic sofas in Helen’s sitting room, looking for all the world as if given half a chance she would be up on her toes and away. Natalia had her laptop bag balanced on her lap but so far hadn’t unpacked it.
‘Are you sure I can’t get you a drink? A cup of tea? Herbal, green? Coffee?’ asked Helen, settling herself down in the armchair opposite. ‘We’ve got juice?’
The young woman blinked and stared at her, caught, anxious as a rabbit in the headlights. She retrieved a small plastic bottle from her handbag and waggled it to and fro, in a gesture Helen guessed was supposed to amuse.
‘No, you’re fine, really. I’ve got water, but really, thank you,’ she said in her breathy little-girl voice. ‘Now how we do it at Roots is that I’ll be working with you all the way through, right through the filming and everything, so we can build up a relationship and you’ll know the score. And you’ll know that I know what I’m talking about because I’ll have been here right from day one. So, I thought we’d just start with a few basics – get those out of the way first – and then maybe if you’ve got any photos? Did Ruth ask you about photos? Don’t worry if she didn’t, we can always get them later and we don’t take them away or anything. I’ve brought a scanner with me.’ She tapped her bag. ‘And I’ve brought some cuttings and things for you to take a look at, you know, from the good old days.’ She tipped her head down towards the bag again. ‘Usually I’ve got this guy who comes with me and does all the technical stuff while we’re talking, but he’s got this bug. Jamie, you might have met him?’
Helen nodded. ‘He thought I was an icon.’
The young woman smiled. ‘Right, well he rang in to say he’s got flu, well he thinks it’s flu, but then again he is a man: probably just a sniffle. He usually does the driving too – you know if it’s like somewhere off the beaten track, or the country or something –’ Natalia carried on smiling; it was clear she meant a trip like this one.
Natalia, all turned out in her leather jacket, hand-knitted beanie hat, and a floral mini-dress worn over black leggings and twenty-eye black patent DMs had arrived two hours late, not so much fashionably late as horribly lost late, and from her colourful account of finally having tracked down Helen’s house, she seemed to view rural Norfolk as if it was just a step away from the Amazon basin or the African veldt.
‘How on earth do you manage out here?’ she asked conversationally, taking a swig from her water bottle as she made an effort to slough off her oversized biker jacket. ‘I mean it’s so isolated; so far from anywhere.’
Helen raised an eyebrow. She lived in a handsome Victorian house in the middle of Denham Market, five minutes’ walk from the town centre and two major supermarkets. It was hardly the Serengeti.
‘It’s an hour and a half from Kings Cross,’ Helen said, pouring herself a mug of tea.
‘Really?’ The girl looked genuinely surprised. ‘You mean like the trains come right out here?’ she said.
Helen suppressed the desire to sigh and shake her head. ‘Every hour.’
‘Really?’ repeated Natalia, unable to conceal her amazement, as she finally shrugged the jacket off. ‘Well, wow – I mean that is really impressive. Anyway, as I said, I’m delighted to meet you. I’m so looking forward to working with you on your story,’ she gushed. ‘Jamie was really gutted that he’s not here today. When I told my mum I was coming to talk to you today she was just so envious. My mum said that you were a legend. She used to watch you every week on Cannon Square. Right from the first episode. And Jamie’s got them all on DVD right from episode one.’ Natalia grinned. ‘I think that the two of them were more excited than I was about me coming to meet you. Anyway, let’s get down to business.’
Helen smiled at her; Natalia, twenty-six, had been best in show on her degree course, according to Ruth’s latest email, which made Helen wonder whether there was anyone on the Roots production team who had just wandered in on the off chance of a job and got in on the strength of being nice, making good tea and being shit-hot with the filing.
‘We always like to come out and see people in their own homes if we possibly can,’ Natalia was saying earnestly. ‘It’s always nicer and makes it more intimate. I’m sure you read in the contract that we’ll probably want to come and do some of the filming here too, you know, like background; give people an idea of how you live now. People are always fascinated by other people’s houses, aren’t they?’ And then Natalia paused and looked anxiously over her shoulder. ‘Do you think my car will be all right out there?’
‘On my drive?’
Natalia nodded. ‘I mean like it’s locked and everything, but I was just wondering. You know.’ Her voice tailed off. ‘I was just wondering –’
‘I’m sure it’ll be fine. Whereabouts do you live?’
‘Hackney,’ Natalia said. ‘We’ve got a flat, nowhere near as grand as this, obviously, but it’s nice and really handy for work. My boyfriend and I keep saying once we have children we might like to move out – you know, to the country. Like Epping or Chadwell Heath or somewhere. His mum and dad come from Cheshunt. I quite fancy Brighton myself.’ She paused. ‘It’s the dark out here that would worry me; that and the quiet. And then you get the animals.’ She shuddered. ‘Me and my boyfriend went camping once, to the proper country. I wouldn’t want to do it again; there were all these really weird snuffling noises in the night and then you had to go to the loo in a shed. With a torch. I still get flashbacks.
Anyway we really like to see how our guests live, see them in their own environment. And how they cope day to day, what they do, cooking and that kind of thing.’ It made it sound as if Natalia was doing a home visit for social services. ‘I mean this is really nice,’ she said, peering around. ‘Why do you live upstairs, is it like a flat or something?’
‘No, I own the whole house. It’s just that the main sitting room is on the first floor.’
‘Right,’ said Natalia, scribbling something down on her notepad. ‘So, what, is the downstairs for your servants?’
Helen laughed. ‘I wish. No, the kitchen is down there, and the utility room, and there’s a gym and –’
‘And so your staff live out, do they?’ asked Natalia, pen poised above the pad.
Natalia had obviously worked with far grander stars in the past; or maybe she came from a generation that thought everyone on TV had an entourage of hired help dealing with the daily grind on their behalf.
‘No, I don’t really have any staff. We have Audrey who comes in to clean every day, and Bert, he comes in to help me with the garden –’
On the sofa Natalia was writing feverishly. ‘And you live up here because?’ She left the question hanging. Helen stared at her wondering what lurid possibility Natalia was considering.
‘Because of the view,’ said Helen, standing up and directing the young woman’s attention towards the tall windows, with their plush window seats and piles of cushions. ‘I really love the view from up here.’