Page 37 - Julie Thorley Nine Lives book

8. On with the Motley
A man of unspeci ed age is speaking to an actor as he prepares him for his ‘last role’.
Oh dear. You’ve been in the wars. Let’s see what we can do about that bruise on your cheek. There, that’s better. You’re starting to look more like your old self now.
Of course, I recognised you straight away. You’ve got one of those faces: you know – no one knows your name, but they all say, ‘Ooh, what’s he been in? Not EastEnders, no. I’m seeing him in uniform. The Bill? No, he’s not that old. Casualty?’ Course, they wouldn’t know you in the street, and I bet they wouldn’t bother to look for your name in the credits. I knew you though. Well, faces are my business.
Mind you, we’ve all been in Casualty, haven’t we? Oh yes, even me, dearie. I used to be an extra back in the day. I thought it would be a way of putting myself in the path of the directors. Well, it was, but not in the way I’d planned. I was such a pretty boy, you see...
No, I soon learned that it wasn’t to be an actor’s life for me. But I’d always liked the costumes and the makeup and the whole ‘let’s pretend’ of TV and cinema. And now, well, it’s a privilege to work with people like you for their last great role before the nal curtain falls – well, is drawn closed.
Anyway, I was saying: I spent a couple of years being what they call a supporting artist these days. I’ve been a customer in a restaurant, an unnamed PC on riot duty – I was once a tourist in Oxford in Morse. That was a nice job. I got to meet Colin Dexter that day. Did you know he made often made an appearance in an
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