Engleby by Sebastian Faulks Read Free Book Online Page A

her any of that Method shit, but Stewart persuaded Hannah that Alex’s point was reasonable, but by this time Hannah had said so many disparaging things about Alex that he couldn’t get excited any more. So then we couldn’t film him naked because it was obvious that he couldn’t rape someone, so we were back to having just Jennifer naked beneath her dress when he lifted it up. Stewart said it didn’t matter in the long run if Alex was excited or not because these shots would be cut in the edit anyway.
    Then Jennifer began to cry because . . . I don’t know why Jennifer cried.
    Perhaps it was because she felt Alex didn’t desire her any more – even though it was only his character that was meant to desire her character, and even though he was a rapist and if you were a woman you wouldn’t want him to want you in that way.
    She seemed really upset, though, and she couldn’t stop crying for about twenty minutes. Hannah told Alex he was a pig, and other things. Geoff the lighting man had been told to leave the set with his lights and the only person in the wood who seemed calm was the DoP, Nick. He had a pair of purple crushed velvet trousers.
    I don’t remember how it got resolved. I know there was a tender scene when Hannah’s character came over from the big house to comfort the Jennifer character. Hannah said she should herself be naked for this, but Stewart would have none of it.
    Then he and Hannah had another row about who was in charge and it was clear that Hannah knew more about acting, but it was Stewart’s film, and it was Nick’s camera.
    Personally, I found it an interesting morning, but for fear of seeming voyeuristic and because I was only a stand-in for Tom, I never let my eyes leave Jennifer’s face.
    The shoot took three weeks in all. Towards the end, the evenings started to draw in. There was some rain at night. People seemed tired. I heard Jennifer say she really wanted a hot bath, though I’m sure there was hot water in the main house, where she had a room. Perhaps she was thinking of her parents’ house in Lymington, or of a particular bathroom.
    Stewart kept going well. He said he’d had inquiries from an ‘independent distributor’ and from the Student Film Council, who had partly funded the operation.
    A week before the end, Steve discovered that Hannah had switched her affections to Nick, the DoP. Steve was angry. Hannah told him he was immature. He said he was sorry to get heavy about it, but he thought she’d been dishonest. She said he was possessive and she couldn’t stand that. So he took his guitar and left in the night, like a thief, and it seemed to be his fault for not being cool about things.
    I missed the music. Nick looked pleased but surprised, the new man in possession who has not sought greatness but had it thrust upon him. He was careful not to seem possessive, but Hannah was always lighting a cigarette then putting it in his mouth or listening with intense respect when he talked to Stewart about a shot. These break-ups often happen in September, I think. The end-of-summer winds make people restless.
    We had a party on the last night and Stewart told us all we’d be invited to the screening room at Film Soc to see a rough cut in due course. The party was a good one. Everybody seemed to be back at their best and all the differences were forgotten. I made some chocolate cakes with about an ounce of hash in them and bought a whole lot more cider from Tip. The people who owned the house seemed sorry to see us go and they made a big casserole of beef that they’d bought from Clohessy’s, and rice with apple and raisins and red peppers for the vegetarians.
    With the cider I took some Mandrax I’d been saving. Stewart did the thing with the Tibetan candles again and we all held hands – and this time I was in the circle, two away from Jennifer, and the light flickered up into her face.
    And that was the really good thing that happened. I thought it would carry on,