Can't Turn Back Now, I'm Haunted (A Ben Willbond Rom Com)

Chapter One | Called to Set

"Not a morning person, then?" The gruff but warm Northern voice of the driver rattled me awake with a snort. I knocked my nose against the window I had fallen asleep against and grasped it with a muttered expletive. "Guess not," he chuckled.

"Sorry," I laughed, rubbing my nose. "Are we here?"

"Yep! Oop -- incoming--"

He'd barely spoken when the car door flew open and an eager PA with a headset and a cute blue and yellow plaid umbrella greeted me, a few decibels louder than I was ready for at rainy six a.m. -- with jetlag.

"Good morning, Miss James! I hope your ride was comfortable!"

"Maggie, please," I said, stepping out of the car. "It was effectively comfortable, thank you." I swung back and called through the door, "Thank you, Marshall!"

The driver smiled and waved. I closed the door and the PA, Bridget, led me across the wet grass, filling me in on the status of the day -- The principal cast had already arrived, there was a tech issue (not specified to me), it was a classic hurry up and wait on-set situation -- but her voice faded in my head as I looked up. There it was -- Button House. A proper, actual Manor House stretching in front of me... and suddenly I felt very intimidated. I was led round the back to a holding area under a tent and tried very quickly to memorize fifteen names as I was introduced to smiling PAs, teamsters, and the director, Simon. He was warm and welcoming, and told me he was excited to work with me, before slipping away to deal with the tech issue. Bridget the PA returned to my side.

"How'm I doin', Bridge?" I asked under my breath. She laughed, compassionately.

"You're crushing it, Miss Taylor. Although there will be a pop quiz of everyone's names."

"Maggie, please!" I repeated.

"If you're ready," Bridget extended an arm and pointed a finger toward the corner of the massive tent closest to the house where six figures were gathered, laughing and chatting, already in costume. "That's the Ghosts over there, they wanted to meet you when you arrived."

I swallowed and cast a smile at Bridget, who whizzed off, saying something into her headset.

They were doing a bit. An extended bit. That went entirely over my head. But I approached with all the confidence I could muster and cleared my throat. They all turned to look at me.

"Um... hi there," I smiled and waved.

Then came the cacophonous, enthusiastic chorus of "Hi!" "Oh you're here!" "Y'alright?" and I was welcomed into the circle, shaking hands with everyone -- Katy Wix, Lolly Adefope, Simon Farnaby, Martha Howe-Douglas, Jim Howick, Mat Baynton. I noticed Ben Willbond was missing. 

"So happy to be here," I assured. "This is genuinely my favorite show on TV right now!"

"We're so happy to have you!" Larry Rickard -- THE Lawrence Rickard -- was the last to shake my hand, and he clapped it with both hands, happily. 

"It's an honor, seriously," I replied. "Although I'm pretty sure it's one in the morning my time, so I will be suing you all."

They all laughed, good-naturedly.

"It's gonna be bizarre having an American on set," said Martha with a warm laugh. "Aside from the language barrier, if she's heard ANY of our American accents, we're in for an earful."

"No comment," I laughed. "... Although yes, I do have some notes."

We all fell into a rhythm of conversation. Everyone was so friendly, even at this early hour, making my social anxiety dissipate with the morning darkness. Bridget came back around, one hand on her headset.