Page 139 of A Night with Damien Spur

‘It’s a pleasure. Now then, let’s get down to business.’

Damien poured himself a glass of water from the only bottle on the drinks table and lifted it in the air. ‘To the deal!’

His agent put the contract on the table. To the sequel ofWriting in the Sand.

Chapter 44

Tonight, Damien was ready to set sail for the Q&A “From Novel to Screenplay”.

The session was to be hosted by Alan Finnigan, head of the Academy of Cinema Arts. Damien had skipped the film. Arrived at the interval. He checked the guests in the green room. A quick spin. All friendly fire. Chat, chat, chat. Juice and water on the table, no vino as agreed.

A few minutes later there was a tap on his shoulder.

Damien swivelled round.

A bespectacled female had appeared with a clipboard. ‘Hi, Mr Spur,’ she said. ‘I’m Ranya, Alan’s PA. Everything okay?’

‘Fine thanks. So where’s Finnigan?’

‘He’s waiting for you onstage. Would you like to come now?’

Okey dokey, sunshine, here we go. No more upsey downsies, the Voice trilled.We are back! Relax, we’re going to be terrific. No one else to steal our thunder, just us and Finnigan.

Damien stepped onto the rostrum.

Finnigan, his face red and shiny under the bright light, was frantically texting on his phone.

‘Hello, Alan,’ said Damien. ‘Alan…? Are you there?’

Finnigan looked up. He gave Damien a blank, myopic stare through his thick-lensed glasses. ‘Sorry, sorry, just a spot of bother. Good to see you!’

‘Where is the audience?’ Damien asked.

Finnigan looked askance. ‘I’ve shooed them away so we can prep the session.’

Oh what! Summit’s up. Mr Shifty’s avoiding eye contact. So why?said the Voice.

Damien scanned the room. Two video cameras to tape the show and just enough seating to create an intimate atmosphere.

Good set-up.But why were there three chairs on the stage?

‘Is there another guest, Alan?’ Damien said.

‘Uhhhh…’ Finnigan opened and closed his mouth like a fish gulping for air. ‘Well…’

‘We agreed. Just the two of us,’ said Damien. ‘Alan?’

‘Yes? Sorry, Damien. But can you hold on a sec, I really had no idea. Just had the call this morning. Didn’t expect him.’

‘Expect who?’

‘And now he’s bloody late.’ Finnigan thrust his hand in his pocket. He took out a tissue and dabbed his sweaty forehead. ‘And he doesn’t answer my texts… Where are you, Ranya?’ he yelled.

The PA ran back on stage with a walkie-talkie in her hand.

‘No worries, Alan,’ she said quietly. ‘He’s five minutes away in an Uber.’

‘Okay, wait at the door and bring him straight through security and onto the stage.’

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