Fernando was sitting on a rock high on a plateau just over the ridge and out of sight, waiting for his cue. The herd of goats with their bells round their necks contentedly scratting round for food, but getting restless, it was near their time to go down for milking, and they kept looking up from the animal handlers who were sweating, hiding under camouflage nets disguised as rocks to the genial actor, who was looking forward to going home for a rest. He had been on location for the last three months. Russia, Turkey, Algeria, Pinewood studios, but he would do his final scenes to the best of his abilities, because he knew there could be no second takes, he just wished they would make their minds up down there! If he was wondering, so was Jacobo, situated not far away, but fully exposed to the sun, and the rocks beneath his prone body were baking hot from the days sun, a small battery fan had been brought to keep the sweat from his face as he lay prostrate playing the part of the cool merciless Russian assassin with his snipers rifle ready to shoot the renegade spy far below, who had now changed into being a pastoral Spanish goatherd on the hills above the Costa Del Sol in Spain. Hoping that his pretty young Spanish wife, about to give birth in their rustic little Finca near the stunted Olive trees, and the stream that provided their water, was being cared for by Maria, an old crone from the village who at this moment he could see far away, sitting in the shade at the left hand side of the Finca under a tree, drinking what must be her tenth cup of tea of the afternoon, he could murder a cuppa but dare not move under all that make up. He contented himself with watching a tall slender and sleek yacht somewhere out beyond Torre del Mar in the Mediterranean, slicing the waters, producing varying hues of colours, lucky bastards. He must remember not to flinch when his car blew up under him, Franklin the director was most insistent on that, “Just look straight ahead” he said “and don’t even blink” It was easy for that bugger to say, it had never happened to him!
“No, it is no good” Announced Antonio decisively but reluctantly. Another day wasted, the budget would freak the accountants out, but it was not they who made the decisions. “What is the forecast for tomorrow?” He inquired of the lighting director. “Blue skies all day Padron” said the director consulting his computer.
Acknowledgement to Adam Adams