The Extra

"Yeah," Walker observed, "With the yellow sapwood still attached to stop it splitting, I thought it looked like the genuine stuff. Seen some Blackwood in the States, though, they grow it in Florida pretty well but the results are bigger and with straighter grain, not as fine as this."

"That's right," said Bill, his eyebrows going up. "Know where else it comes from?"

"Where I served my apprenticeship we used all sorts of rosewood and ebonies for inlay work and we used to get some from Naples, but it weren't nowhere near's good as this."

"No, it wouldn't be, this is definitely the genuine article. Come on, Walker," Bill said, "I'll show you what we've been doing with it."

He led Walker out to a further workshop out back, where the cameras and lights would never go. There on one side were a pair of chairs, stacked up, made of mahogany, all complete with satinwood and ebony inlays, very simple but lightly constructed and elegant. They had been rubbed down but not polished or upholstered yet.

"These look real nice, Bill," enthused Walker, running his hand over the inlays, "These inlays are sweetly done. Must be to a Sheraton pattern?"

"Yes, they are," Bill said, "Done anything similar when you were in the business?"

"Oh yeah. We used to do a lot of Sheraton, Chippendale and Hepplewhite chairs and tables where I worked," grinned Walker, "at Bishop, Colne & Webb."

"Yeah, I've heard they did some nice work, taken over by Mephams of Ipswich, five or six years ago, I think, but they closed the Surrey factory soon after."

"That was well after my time there."

"So, you kept your hand in since?"

"Yeah, had my own workshop making contemporary and reproduction furniture for a while, but sorta lost it in a divorce settlement. Bit rusty now, though, it's been more'n five years since working on contemporary furniture, white oak, mostly, contrasted with ebony inlays. Worked on this type of mahogany furniture for about seven or eight years in all, but that would be about twenty-odd years ago." Walker paused as if in pain. "Made some contemporary furniture for my ex-home in California too. Left it all behind, though, an' left all my tools in store over there, so not touched any virgin timber since I got back, until just now."

"Oh, you never lose a feel for wood, Walker. I'm working on another pair of chairs. Do you want to lend me a hand?"

"Sure, I've got a coupla hours spare before my next crowd scene, we'll hear that Director's megaphone easy enough back here."

"Yes, we will, he loves the sound of his own voice and his second love is for him to share it with us all!" Bill chuckled.

Those two hours went very quickly for Walker as he locked his mind away concentrating on cutting out recesses in the mahogany legs and cutting the matching tiny inlays of satinwood and blackwood to size, and gluing them in, wearing a spare work apron that Bill found for him. It was Bill who tapped him on the shoulder and reminded him when it was time to go.

Bill was suitably impressed, looking at the neatness of Walker's handiwork after the part-time film extra had left the workshop, and Bill was not usually impressed by the work of younger so-called craftsmen, even those working daily with wood of this delicacy and quality.

Walker returned to the workshop after his only street scene of the day was completed and continued working on unpaid with Bill in the shop until the end of the day.

He returned a few months later for a single day in the studio, this time for a pub scene, and helped out Bill in his workshop again, whenever he wasn't required on the set. By this time Bill had started on a long dining table in the same design.

So, it was completely out of the blue about three weeks later that the Studio rang Walker's mobile phone at home and asked if he could go into the studio offices and see the producer Mr Silvers the next day, first thing in the morning. They rang him mid-morning and Walker had only been asleep after his night shift for a couple of hours. Apparently, Walker was informed, Bill had fallen over at work and damaged his hip and so was going to be out of commission for a few weeks, possibly a month or two.

"Where is he?" asked Walker, instantly awake at hearing the news of his friend's injury.

"What?" came the reply from the woman at the other end of the line.

"Where's Bill at?" asked Walker, again, "What hospital did they take him and what ward's he in?"

"Er, I don't know," came the reply, and after a short hesitation, she continued, "Mr Silvers really needs you to come in and speak to the produc—"

"And what I really need, young lady, is to visit with Bill in hospital," interjected Walker, "And I would appreciate it real well if you could find out exactly where he is for me, today."

"Er ... certainly, of course, I'll er, get straight onto it," she stuttered, "But what about seeing the producer?"

"Leave me the producer's telephone number an' I'll ring him later."

"No, Mr Silvers won't like that. I'm his personal assistant, all his calls come through me."

Walker was pissed off. "Get back to me with Bill's whereabouts and I'll discuss speaking to Silvers after I have seen and spoken with my friend. Goodbye."

Walker rang off. His sleep disturbed, and worried about the old man, he thought he might as well get up. His mother's house was empty, she often went out during the mornings after his night shifts so he could sleep undisturbed. His mother led a full social life despite her age, and recent life-threatening incident, and could always find friends with similar interests to spend time with.

The producer's assistant called back about 45 minutes later with the information Walker wanted and from that he was able to discover the contact details of the hospital. When he rang the nurses' station in the relevant hospital ward he found that Bill was in recovery following an emergency operation and wouldn't be awake during that afternoon's visiting hours, but should be by the evening. Walker rang his supervisor at work and said he was visiting someone in the hospital and might be up to an hour late getting in. The operator on his previous shift was consulted and was happy to work on overtime to cover the phones until Walker got there.

Now Walker had a better idea of what was going on and had a handle on his actions, he decided to get his head back down for a couple of hours' sleep.

Chapter 2. Abigail

WHEN WALKER ARRIVED at the hospital ward he was informed where Bill was, but clearly warned that Bill had two people with him already and patients in recovery from surgery were only allowed two visitors at a time. Perhaps in a couple of days, depending on his rate of recovery from the effects of the anaesthetic, the nurse said, Bill might be allowed three or four visitors at a time.

Walker looked through the glass door and saw Bill in the small four-bed side ward, with two women: an older woman, probably Bill's wife, and a young, extremely pretty woman, possibly a daughter but more likely a grand-daughter. The evening visiting time was for just two hours and Walker hung around outside kicking his heels for at least 90 minutes. Walker decided, with just ten minutes or so of visiting time to go, having rightly assumed that the two visitors would be there for the duration, to push open the door and go in anyway. He only wanted to be there for a minute or two to pass on his 'Get Well' card and hopefully have a quick word with Bill about the producer's phone call. Bill saw his approach before the women did.

"Hello, Walker," Bill said brightly as soon as he saw Walker approach the bed.

"Hiiii-ya, Bill," replied Walker in the mid-Atlantic drawl he had developed over the years. "What you gone an' done to yourself now?" He grinned at his friend.

"I fell off a step ladder replacing a blown bulb," Bill said ruefully, "Broke my hip and looks like I'm out of commission for a few months."

The old woman chimed in, "The old fool doesn't know when to ask for anyone's help! I'm Bill's wife Doreen, by the way."

"Hi, Doreen," Walker said, holding her outstretched hand lightly and bending down and kissing her on the cheek, "I'm Walker, I've worked with Bill on the set a coupla times. He's one helluva furniture maker."

"Well it's a pleasure meeting someone who really appreciates Bill, most of them down at the studio think he is just an old duffer."

"Well," chuckled Walker, "I guess he can live with that, since he is an old duffer, but a pretty clever one at that! Those rosewood inlays you did on those Sheraton chairs, Bill, are among the best I've ever seen."

Bill chuckled, "Insults as well as compliments, eh, young man?"

"What else were you expecting, eh, old man?" he laughed.

"Nothing at all, Walker," came the reply with a chuckle, "Oh! This lovely lady is Abi, by the way."

Walker looked at the young woman sitting next to Doreen. She smiled at him sweetly and, with that simple gesture, Walker's heart did somersaults in his chest. She was slim and petite, with just past the shoulder-length wavy ash blonde hair, intense blue eyes and deeply dimpled cheeks when she smiled. She looked like she was only about 18 but was probably a little older. One thing that Walker was certain about, was that she was an absolute honey. Sitting quietly, she barely registered her presence other than being pretty, but when she smiled, phew!, Walker thought, she positively lit up the whole room. She stood up, almost a foot shorter than his six foot two, and held out her slim hand. Walker took it gently in his hand, using just a fingertip hold, she looked far too delicate for any robust handling.

"Pleased to meet you, Walker," she said. Even her voice was clear as a crystal bell, but soft and sweet as honey.

"Sure is a pleasure to meet you too, Abi," smiled Walker. He had to force himself to tear his eyes away from this little angel so he could address Bill again.

"I had a call from the show's producers' office. They told me that you was in hospital and that they wanted to see me urgent like. Know what that would be about, Bill?"

"First I've heard—" Bill started.

"That's my fault," Doreen interjected, "That pushy girl Julie, who works for Mr Silvers, rang your mobile phone while you were in theatre, dear. The ambulance men cleared out your pockets and gave everything to me in a plastic bag. I forgot you're supposed to turn these mobile phones off while in hospital, so I answered quickly to stop it ringing and drawing attention to myself."

She turned to face Walker with a smile, "For weeks Bill has been telling me that 'Walker can do this' and 'if Walker was about, he could have helped me do that', so when Julie started panicking about what she was going to tell Silvers about how long Bill'd be out, I suggested that she call you. I didn't have any other details, not even if that was your forename or surname, except you were an Extra called 'Walker', and left her to the task of tracking you down."

"But why would they need me, you've more than enough props in the workshop, right?" Walker furrowed his brow.

"They probably have a storyline that involves the workshop or some additional furniture they need in the front shop." Bill said thoughtfully. "They don't tell you much beforehand but I've been been working on those ten chairs and that table plus a couple of additional leaves for the table that they wanted me to make for several months now and they wanted some extra examples made that were left at various stages of completion so they can show them being worked on. When the director was wringing his hands waiting for the ambulance to arrive I told him you are the man to contact, too."

"Two endorsements, eh? Appreciate that. How far you got with that special furniture, Bill?" Walker asked, "You had only just started the table when I last saw you."

"The table's cut out, including the legs, and the inlays inserted into half the table top but the rest of the inlays need cutting and routing out, and the same for the legs. The carcasses of all the chairs are made but they all need upholstering, two have the first two coatings of French polish on but need rubbing down and a couple more coats at least; the other eight chairs haven't been polished yet, nor has the table, obviously." Bill looked at Walker and asked, "How are you at French polishing and upholstery?"

"Don't worry, Bill," Walker grinned, "I'm a red-hot French polisher and pretty good on upholstery too. Are the seat frames made and the materials sorted?"

"Yes and no, the materials are all locked away safely, though. I'll get Doreen to look out my keys for you, only she doesn't drive."

"I can pick up those and drop them off at the Studios or bring them here," Abi volunteered, "I'm at a loose end tomorrow. Although I had planned on bringing Doreen up for both the afternoon or evening visiting hours."

"That's a good idea," said Bill, "As for the chairs, I have cut and jointed all the seat frames, so you'll have those to assemble and glue up. However, the producer may want additional pieces."

"OK, Bill," chuckled Walker, "If you could bring the keys in here, I'll pop in and see you tomorrow afternoon once I've spoken to this producer. I must dash now, I need to get off to work!"

Walker shook Bill's hand, kissed Doreen on the cheek and smiled at Abi as he touched her hand briefly again, before he made a hasty retreat. The nurse glared at him for breaking her rules, as he passed by on his way to the exit. All he could think of on the way to work was how beautiful Abi's smile was and it looked like he'd have the pleasure of seeing her again tomorrow afternoon or the evening, depending on how long he had to spend with the Producer.

When Walker called Julie, the personal assistant of the show's producer, it was gone 10pm in the evening and he fully expected his call to go direct to voicemail, but no, the woman who rang him earlier answered the call immediately and with a bright cheerful voice. Walker apologised for calling so late but the recipient assured him that she was prepared to take calls at any time and confirmed an appointment for 10.30 in the morning, when he could meet with the producer and director to discuss any matters in connection with the show. She said she wasn't at liberty to say any more. In the morning, at the end of his night shift, Walker had no time at all for any sleep, he showered and changed into smart casual wear for his interview with the producer.

The long-fingernailed receptionist smiled at Walker and waved him through for his interview. Walker satisfactorily negotiated a three-month contract for five days a week with the producer before going home for a welcome sleep.

Walker called into the hospital that evening on the way to work. He strode past the nurses' station without even speaking to them, so they were unable to enforce the two visitors only rule. Both Doreen and Abi were at Bill's bedside again when he got there. Bill noticed him as soon as he poked his head around the open doorway and waved him to the bedside.

"How'd you get on, Walker?" Bill asked eagerly as soon as his younger friend had reached the hospital bed. There was a spare chair for him already set out ready for him on the side opposite his other visitors.

Walker smiled and nodded at the two ladies present, sitting just as they had been the previous day. He couldn't help noticing that Abi looked even more beautiful than he thought she looked then, her eyes shining as their eyes met, her dimpled smile almost making him forget Bill's question for a moment.

"Er, yes," he managed to get out, dragging his attention back to Bill as he sat down, "We've agreed a three-month contract appointing me as temporary technical advisor to the show, which will include preparing the props as and when they need 'em and trainin' the actors to handle the tools. So it really looks as though they are planning on the actors pretending to do some of the tasks themselves."

"Well done, my boy," Bill said, "Did they give you any idea what they are planning?"

"Only that the workshop and furniture store are going to figure prominently for the next six months for some big story they are going to be running, shooting starts next week. They wouldn't go into details for 'security reasons', they said. All very hush-hush."

Bill looked at the two ladies who had exchanged glances, during his conversation with Walker, and he smiled at them, they grinned back at Bill. The exchange wasn't lost on Walker but he was at a loss to understand the significance of the glances. He assumed that they knew more about the storyline than he did. Also, he deduced, that Abi must also work on the show and that they would probably not in a position to pass the information onto him yet, as he was such a newcomer to the show, and not even a permanent one at that. Walker was sure that he had never seen her at the studios on his two previous visits. He was certain that he would have noticed her if she was there.

Bill turned back to Walker and asked, "Are you clear on what tasks they you need to do, son?"

"Yeah, they gave me a production schedule of what props they need, what state of completion they need 'em in and exactly when they want 'em but not why or exactly how they would be used. The quality of the finished furniture cannot be compromised because the set is being auctioned for charity after we've finished with it and the publicity boosts the bidding process. I also have to train up a couple of extras so they can be seen operating equipment like routers or bandsaws in the background and one of the regular stars of the show in the foreground needs to be seen doing a few tasks, including angrily smashing up a piece that wasn't quite good enough, immediately after an emotional scene with one of the leading ladies. I might have to roughly make a couple of pieces up that will be substituted during filming, so they can afford a couple of takes."

"Sounds very interesting," Abi commented, smiling at Walker.

"Yeah! I think it should be fun," Walker agreed with a nod, thinking it was a shame that he had to go to work soon, when he'd happily sit and talk with Abi all night long.

Walker had brought a bag of grapes which he handed onto Bill just before he took his leave.

"Appreciate you puttin' in a good word for me, Bill, and you too, Doreen," he said, shouldering his outdoor coat, "Oh, by the way, d'you get those workshop keys for me?"

"Oh, sorry, Walker," Doreen popped up, delving around in her cavernous handbag, "they're in here somewh— oh, here."

Walker took them with a smile and kissed Doreen goodbye on the cheek.

"You off to work, Walker?" Bill asked.

"Yeah, got me three more shifts on this cycle, including tonight, then I got six days off."

"Are you going to cope with doing the filming and prop work during the day?"

"Yeah, sure," he grinned, "I can work around the schedules to get the props made, even if I go in at the weekend. I need to do the noisy routing work when there's no filming, anyway. The producer's happy with balancing time so long I'm there when filming in the shop's scheduled. But then," Walker chuckled, "we know what shooting schedules are like, don't we?"

Walker got up to walk away and Abi rose from her chair at the same time.

"I'll walk back with you, Walker, if you don't mind," she said, with her dimpled smile, "I need a big strong man to escort me through that dark car park."

"Oh, er sure. How's Doreen getting home?" Walker asked, remembering her saying that she couldn't drive.

"Don't worry about me, dear," Doreen replied, "Our daughter Shirley's popping up to see her Dad after she's got the kid's tea, an' she'll get us home. You get off, the pair of you."

Abi kissed and hugged her goodbyes to Bill and Doreen, saying, "I'll be back by Tuesday night," before collecting her bag and walking out with Walker.