Star Ch. 02

Part 2: Falling Star

Part 2 of 5. This is the only part not written in the interview\flashback style.

*

The past two or so years had gone quite well and fairly whizzed by. 'Dirty Work' had been a minor hit to start with, but had got huge after it went to DVD. I, Dave Gerrard, bin man, had become an actor. In the main I got secondary roles. Not starring roles or lowly 'second thug' type parts, but characters that helped the plot along. I was usually only on set for three or four weeks, which suited me fine. It meant that I could accompany Karen when she was away filming. We had actually married on the set of her next film. For her part, she had been on set for my films too. I was glad of her support, especially for my first role other than as 'Pops'. Unfortunately Karen's next couple of movies hadn't been terribly successful. I told her that I thought it was because she was being offered and had accepted the wrong roles. She wasn't so sure but accepted my advice in the right manner. There had been rumours that there was to be a sequel to 'Dirty Work', but Karen wanted another hit before she did it. It didn't bother me as it had been her project anyway, and I wasn't desperate to get back into the limelight. However cracks were beginning to appear in our relationship, mainly due to the fact that we were spending more time apart than we'd like. My own insecurities about marrying someone so much younger were not helping matters either.

It was me who caused the cracks to widen however. Karen was away in New Zealand, appearing in another film I thought was wrong for her, while I was at home preparing for a bigger role than I'd played before (except for Pops). It was my birthday and I was bored. Karen had called and we had talked for nearly an hour. That had been fine at the time, but later on in the evening, sitting at our home, nursing a drink, I really missed her. 'I'll go out!' I thought. 'I need some people around me.' It was possibly the most stupid thought I ever had. Some photographer snapped me coming out of a club at two in the morning with a pretty redhead. In truth, I was just sharing a cab with her, but the tabloid headlines screamed something different. When I saw the pictures I knew they were going to hurt Karen. I called her straightaway and told her the truth. I said I knew how it looked and knew I had been careless. She listened and said she believed me in a quiet voice, but I knew I had dented her perception of me. I had a bad feeling that I'd started a chain of events that I wouldn't like.

I was right about that. Her manager, a weaselly man, put out a press release saying Karen was 'shocked and stunned' when I knew she was no such thing, at least not in the way the release implied. I had hurt her though, and this man was trying to stir things up, but I left things alone.

In preparation for my upcoming role I was doing some driving again, a delivery van this time. During this time I was away from home and hadn't looked at a newspaper for three days. I was on my way back when Karen called me. I was glad to hear her voice again. She had called to say sorry she said. 'For the stunned press release?' I asked. 'No, for the pictures that are about to be published.' She said, adding that it had been her manager's idea again. Puzzled by what she meant I couldn't really say much. I got home and put the news on. There was Karen walking out of a club with a very hunky looking man. He looked like he kept his brains with his razor, and didn't use either of them very often. And he was so much younger than me. I was really starting to hate that manager. I threw some things into a bag and went to the airport.

***

Karen was genuinely glad to see me. She hugged me and I hugged back, but because I'd been torturing myself throughout the whole flight out I pulled away after a brief moment.

"Just what is going on? I know I screwed up and you have every right to be angry with me, but those photos of me were grabbed on the fly. These...!" I waved a newspaper with her pictures in under her nose. "These are posed! Why Karen? If I hurt you that much, why didn't you just say so. You could have, should have yelled at me when I called you. I would have accepted that, you had every right to. But why tell me you believe me and then do this!"

She looked away and then back, her face now reddening with anger.

"Don't you dare come here and lecture me! It was you who messed things up, and...and you've been holding my career back."

"How the hell have I done that? It was you and that idiot manager that picked your roles. I never once said 'take that one'. He's been poisoning you against me for months now."

"I can't talk to you like this, meet me later when you've cooled off, and we'll sort it out."

"Got another hunk lined up that you have to put off first have you?" I sneered. I knew I had lost control but I couldn't stop. All my anxieties were bursting forth and I was saying ridiculous things, things meant to hurt her. She stepped up to me and slapped my face hard. In my anger I started to lift my hand until I realised what I was doing. My shoulders slumped, my hand dropped down to my side. "I'm sorry Karen, I'll go. I never meant for this to happen, and I never want to hurt you again, so I'll go and leave you alone." I turned and went towards the door. As I reached it, her manager came in.

"What's happening? I heard raised voices?" He saw me. "Oh, it's you, the husband." My anger returned. I saw all my problems personified in him and I swung my fist, landing it square on his jaw.

***

At least I got out of New Zealand before the little git could have me arrested, but I'd probably never be allowed back in. I brooded on the long haul back to London. Now I'd calmed down and looked at my actions I was deeply ashamed. I loved Karen, but I'd shouted at her and accused her of so many stupid things. And I couldn't believe I'd actually begun to raise my hand to her. Before I'd started acting I'd never raised my hand to a woman. (Well, except my sister.) I was so mortified by that one near movement that I almost broke down and cried. Instead I came up with a plan, and it wasn't a plan to try and get Karen back. I'd decided that I didn't deserve her so I would lose myself, take myself out of her life, let her do what she wanted, let her find someone who did deserve her.

***

Now it was eighteen months after the plane had landed in London. I had gone back to our home and packed some clothes and one or two other bits and pieces and left. Although I knew she wouldn't be back for three weeks I left her a long letter, apologising for messing up her life, telling her I'd always love her but I couldn't bear to see her hurt anymore so I was doing the only thing I could and getting the hell out of her life and then apologising again. Then I'd gone to the location site for the film I was supposed to be in. After three days I found I couldn't concentrate on whatever it was I was supposed to be doing and my enthusiasm was non-existent. I was on my way to find the director to tell him I quit when I met him coming to tell me I was fired. So ended my film career. I went back to the one thing I knew I was good at, waste collection.

I had to work as an agency driver of course. There were no full time jobs going anymore. I didn't mind though, I was still getting royalty checks for the films I had done and the book of photographs I had put together from 'Dirty Work'. They were paid into several accounts, one for each role I'd played. It was a game Karen and I had started; an account for each film we'd been in. Of course the account for 'Dirty Work' was the biggest, because both of us paid into that one. It was also the only one I never touched, figuring that was 'our' money not mine. So now I just enjoyed myself doing a job I learned to love again. Basically it was so simple; just empty all the bins that were scheduled for collection for that day. I didn't have to know why, I wasn't told how, I just did it. I went back to my Blog, the Blog that had caught Karen's attention, and just wrote what I felt. It was very cathartic, although I couldn't bring myself to write down why Karen and I had split. I left all the propaganda to her slime ball manager. It was obvious that I was going to be the bad guy, and she was the one hard done by. I was painted as some sort of gold digger, only out for her money, when in truth I left our house with less than I had arrived with. I was surprised that she had never filed for divorce, or if she had, I had never been informed. It was surprising because whenever she appeared in public there was another gorgeous hunk hanging on her arm, most of them with the vapid expression of a goldfish, and probably the brains as well. I learned to stay away from those pictures, just as I learned to live without Karen again. My new workmates soon tired of teasing me about my short-lived former life and learnt not to say anything bad about Karen too. 'She is still my wife' I would explain, bouncing their heads off the nearest hard surface.

I suppose I was disappointed that she hadn't come looking for me. It was almost as if I wasn't worth divorcing, I could just as easily be ignored. I was saddened by her attitude though. I knew she was more grown up than her years suggested in many ways, but she was still a child in others, especially when it came to relationships. I had seen that she could be easily led and had tried hard not to impose my views onto her. Apparently her manager had had different ideas.

***

She had finally got her big hit film for a part she took after a very public row with him. He hadn't wanted her to take it, but something, possibly something I'd said, made her want to do it, so she had. She had then fired him too. That was something I found very satisfying, I just wished I could have been there to see it. There had been a court case too, he had sued for defamation and loss of earnings, and she had counter sued for embezzlement. The case had only recently ended with Karen winning. To begin with I had kept tabs on it, but it had become drowned in legalese and even the tabloids found it hard to pick out any scandal.

Deep down though I knew everything was my fault. I could have saved our relationship right up to the moment that I punched her manager and I knew it. Even back then I had known it, for an instant I had wavered and then I had seen in his eyes that he wanted me to hit him. I knew he had set me up. He wanted me out of Karen's life, and sooner or later he was going to get his way, so landing the blow meant I was going on my terms at least. All this had flashed through my mind in milliseconds and I had thrown the punch anyway. He had gone down very satisfactorily.

***

I still had friends in the movies though. I kept in touch with some of the crew from 'Dirty Work', especially Clint the director. He kept offering me small roles in his films so I could 'keep my eye in'. I always turned him down though, preferring to do some truck driving for him so I could meet old friends that way. I was out with some of the old second unit who had just finished filming some location shots nearby when I saw the news. Karen Carragher was due to make an important announcement in the next few days. There was much speculation on the TV as to what this would be, but I felt I knew. This was the end of our relationship. One of the brainless beefcakes had asked her to marry him, so I had to be found and sorted out. I quietly slipped away and went back to my flat. As I sat in the darkness, contemplating my stupidity in throwing away the best thing that had ever happened to me, the phone rang. I tried to ignore it, knowing that this was obviously the beginning of the end, but the thought of hearing Karen's voice one last time made me pick up.

The voice on the other end however was that of Clint.

"Dave? Got a job for you if you want it." His usual line.

"Clint, it's good to hear a friendly voice. I was expecting it to be Karen or her lawyer telling me the dream was over."

"Dreams are never over son. Why are you expecting Karen to call anyway?"

"Well, she's divorcing me isn't she?"

"She is? She didn't say so earlier when I met her." He was genuinely puzzled.

"Oh? What about this announcement?"

"That's for 'Dirty Work II'. Now she's got another hit, she wants to do it. With the original crew too."

"That's going to be awkward isn't it? I mean, we haven't spoken in eighteen months."

"That's why I called and why the announcement is being delayed. I need to know if you're prepared to plays Pops again."

"Why?"

"Because we have two slightly differing scripts. If you won't do it, we'll use the one where Pops has just died. If you will..."

"Karen can dump me on film too." I finished for him. I was torn. I really wanted one last chance to see her, but I didn't know if the humiliation was worth it.

"You haven't seen the script yet."

"Post it to me."

"We don't have the time. We need to know within twenty four hours."

"I'm not agreeing to play a role that I haven't seen a script for. You, or Karen, could have turned him into an idiot." I heard him mutter something like 'well he is supposed to be you'.

"Look Dave, I'm five minutes away. I've got the script; I want you to see it. I want you to be in this film. We were a team four years ago; we can be again."

"All right, bring me the damn script and I'll see. You do know I haven't done a single acting job for nearly two years."

"See! It'll be just like old times." He sounded pleased that I was even considering the role. I was a bit surprised too, but that chance to work with Karen was going to be hard to overcome.

***

Clint had waited while I skimmed through the role of 'Pops'. They hadn't changed his character, but he wasn't central now. Things happened around 'Emily', more like the original film had supposed to be.

"Okay Clint. I'll do it. It was more the sort of role I was taking afterwards anyway. I have one request. When Karen announces this, can she read out a short statement from me?"

"I can't answer for her, you know that."

"I do know. I'll take the role whatever her answer, so she doesn't have to do it if she doesn't want to, but she won't get to see it until the announcement."

"I don't know Dave. That sounds a bit ominous." Clint sounded as dubious as he looked.

"It isn't meant to be. If it helps, I can show you what the note will say. I just want it to be a surprise for Karen."

"I can only ask her." He shrugged. I took out a piece of paper and wrote what I wanted to say on it. I showed it to Clint before I sealed it in an envelope. He smiled and nodded.

***

The room was packed. More people were interested in this than Clint and Karen had anticipated. I had sneaked into the back of the crowd by the simple expedient of closely following a reporter and waving my camera at the harassed guy on the door. Karen and Clint came in and sat before the assembled mass of cameras and microphones held towards them by the seated media. I looked straight across at her but she didn't see me, after all, I wasn't supposed to be there. She spoke in a calm authoritative voice.

"Good morning everyone. It's good to see so many old friends here." Her eyes swept the room, still failing to notice me. "As you have probably guessed by now this is to officially announce that 'More Dirty Work', the 'Dirty Work' sequel has got the green light. Clint and I are pleased to confirm that we will be using exactly the same cast and crew as we did in the original." Every hand in the room shot up, every reporter wanting to know the answer to the same question. Karen knew it too. "And yes, that does include my estranged husband as 'Pops'."

"In fact, Dave was the hardest to persuade to come back, and not for the reasons you would think." Clint broke in. "He felt his performance in the first film had been exceptionally lucky and he didn't think he'd be able to repeat it. I managed to change his mind only yesterday, and he agreed as long as Karen would read out a short note to all of you." I tensed. I wasn't convinced now that this was a good idea, but I needed to gauge her reaction before we met again.

"Thank you for the explanation Clint." Karen sipped from a glass of water. "Before I read out that note, I have something I need to say first." Clint looked a little surprised, but recovered his composure by crossing his arms and leaning back. When he did he caught sight of me and almost fell backwards. Luckily everyone was looking at Karen.

"You all know I recently won a court action against my former manager. Throughout that action many claims and counter claims were issued. One thing that did not come out was something I was horrified to learn. My manager had engineered the whole break up with Dave. It was he who organised the barrage of abuse that Dave received after that picture, and he who somehow stopped Dave's friends confirming what he had already told me, that all he did was share a taxi." My eyes widened. I wasn't expecting this! Neither was Clint. He sat with his mouth open, obviously wondering where Karen was going with this. "Subsequent to that, he hired a succession of young men to accompany me to all sorts of functions and get photographed. It seemed he was trying to get Dave to file for divorce, because I had already refused to do so." I couldn't believe my ears. I was more and more glad I had thumped him. "So, before you all gang up on my husband, please realise we all, and I mean Dave, me, and all of you, were used by an immoral man for his own agenda, which was ultimately the embezzlement of a fair bit of my income." The media people all looked down, shuffled their feet and were generally embarrassed. While they all muttered to each other Karen picked up the envelope I had given Clint and opened it. She read the note and then burst into tears, sitting down. Clint picked up the note.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. All this note says is: 'I'm so deeply sorry. Forgive me. I'll never stop loving you. Dave'." He held it up for everyone to see. They all stood and tried to get a better look. I had lost sight of Karen so began to move around to the side of the room. Through the sea of noise I heard her speak.

"Where is he Clint? I have to find him, where is he?" Clint just pointed at me. Karen swung around and saw me. "Dave!" She ran to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Well, I wanted to see you before we started our next film."

"The note! The note was lovely."

"Will you forgive me?"

"For what? I just told everyone that we were manipulated."

"But it was me who gave him the opportunity, by going out that night. And I did thump him in front of you, and I said all those horrible things and thought even worse things. And worst of all, I lifted my hand." I hung my head.

"I forgive you for everything. Well, nearly everything. I don't forgive you for hitting him. You should have kicked him as well." Her watery red eyes were shining with laughter. I picked her up and kissed her.

"Karen, shall we go home?"