THOMPSON
An extract from
Deirdre O’Dare finds herself auditioning with her ex-boyfriend, Rory McDonagh
Deirdre screwed her courage to the sticking place and walked through the
door into the studio, trying to look elegant, casual, nonchalant and
unconcerned. What a performance! she thought.
Rory was sitting on a table at the opposite end of the room, swinging his
legs. He evinced no surprise at seeing her. ‘Hi, Deirdre,’ he said. ‘I see
you’re last on the list.’
‘Hi, Rory,’ she said back. ‘I hear you’re off to LA again today.’
‘Oh – you two know each other, do you?’ said Katie. ‘That makes things
easier.’
No it doesn’t, thought Deirdre. She had a suspicion that Rory was thinking
exactly the same thought.
‘Would you like a little rehearsal before we roll tape on you?’ asked Katie.
‘I don’t think that’ll be necessary,’ said Rory, jumping down from the
table. ‘Unless you’d prefer a rehearsal, Deirdre?’ he added, politely
inclining his head in her direction.
‘Let’s not bother,’ she replied, returning his urbane smile. The fewer times
she had to go through this grotesque scenario, th better, as far as she was
concerned.
Katie shot a look of enquiry at the video operator.
‘Rolling,’ he said.
‘All right.’ Katie took a seat on the demarcation line of the playing area.
‘We’ll be in close on you, Deirdre. Are you certain that you wouldn’t like
to run the scene once or twice before we record? A little foreplay, if you
know what I mean?’
Jesus! ‘Certain, thanks.’
‘Well. Whenever you’re ready, then.’
Deirdre bowed her head and waited for Rory to initiate the dialogue.
‘You’re much more beautiful than your portrait.’
She raised her eyes to his. His expression was watchful, but there was a
hint of amusement there too.
‘And you look nothing like yours,’ she responded. She was relieved to find
that she could meet his eyes square on.
‘I’m glad to hear it. It’s an execrable portrait.’ He moved in towards her.
‘What shall we do now?’ he asked.
‘What’s customary behaviour for newly-weds after the ceremony?’
‘They spend a lot of time fucking. Or so I’m told.’ Rory hadn’t once allowed
his eyes to leave her face. He’d tweaked the dialogue. The line in the
script read ‘making love’, not ‘fucking’.
‘We met for the first time today, Dónal.’ She held his gaze. Grace O’Malley
wouldn’t flinch at the word, and neither would she. ‘It’s hardly customary
to fuck someone you’ve barely been introduced to.’
‘I agree that while it’s not customary for mere acquaintances to know each
other carnally, it’s not unheard of between man and wife.’
‘True. And it’s not unheard of between people who feel lust for each other.’
‘Do you feel lust for me, Grace?’ He trailed a finger down the side of her
face. Then he took her hand, raised it to his mouth and licked the palm.
Deirdre smiled at him. ‘I have never yet desired to be intimate with a man,
Dónal. I’m not sure that I know what lust is. Perhaps you could teach me to
ecognize it, if I ever should – perchance – have experience of it?’
‘What do you feel now?’ He moved her hair away from her neck and kissed her
lingeringly on her collarbone. Deirdre caught her breath.
‘I feel strange.’
‘Warm?’
‘Yes?’
‘Ardent?’
‘That, too.’
‘Is there a better word to describe how you feel?’
‘Yes.’ Deirdre reached up, took Rory’s face between her hands and kissed him
on the mouth. ‘I feel aflame.’
Rory laughed. ‘You are as brazen as you look, Grace. I think I’m going to
enjoy being married to you.’ He looked at her with amused eyes for a moment,
and then he bent his head down and kissed her.
Deirder felt her lips part as their mouths fused. The kiss they exvchanged
was soft, almost tentative, as befitted the first kiss between lovers. The
Rory started to explore her mouth with a leisurely tongue, and things
suddenly became more urgent. She found herself clinging to him, kissing him
back with a passion that took her by surprise.
‘Cut.’
Rory and Deirdre continued to kiss.
‘Uh – cut.’
He broke the kiss for her, but continued to hold her wrapped in his arms,
looking at her with a kind of enquiry in his eyes.
‘Um. That was very nice.’ The casting assistant was obviously stuck for
words. ‘You two have a terrific – er – rapport.’
Deirdre disengaged herself from Rory’s residual embrace. She knew she was
looking rather flushed.
‘Thanks very much, Deirdre.’ Katie had got to her feet and picked up her
clipboard and pen. ‘I’ll eed to take down a few details before you go. Come
through to reception, will you?’
Deirdre followed the casting assistant, busily pretending to do up a button
on her cuff.
‘Bye, Deirdre.’
She turned. Rory was still standing where she’d left him. ‘Good luck,’ he
said.
‘Thanks, Rory. Enjoy LA.’
‘I’ll send you a postcard,’ he said.
‘Your agent’s Sally Ruane, right?’ asked Katie. Deirder returned her
attention to the casting assistant, who was motioning her towards the door.
‘Right.’
‘And you are available, aren’t you? We’re not considering any actresses who
may have conflicts.’
Bloody hell, thought Deirdre, as she walked out of the studio. If Deirdre
O’Dare was cast opposite Rory McDonagh, there’d be plenty of those.
© 2005 Kate Thompson
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