A Date With A Bollywood Star

Rani hoped he would be true to his word and, when he was answering the more general questions she knew she had to ask, he was. Gently she edged towards more personal ones trying to uncover something of his private life.

‘Tell me about your mother,’ she asked. He visibly baulked and gave a dismissive answer.

‘People don’t want to read about that,’ he said, smiling an unconvincing sort of smile. Rani tried again.

‘What about your father. He was from Lahore, wasn’t he?’ His eyes instantly contracted at the mention of his father.

‘Yes, he was,’ Omar answered coldly without offering anything more.

‘I understand he’s publishing a book about you.’

The car almost crashed off the road as George heard the words that had been forbidden to be spoken by anyone. The shocked reaction from all of the other people in the car was plain to see but it didn’t stop Rani from soldiering on.

‘Have I said something I shouldn’t have?’ she asked innocently, knowing full well she had.

Omar said nothing. George said nothing. The PA said nothing. In the end the manager squeezed a few words from between her thin pursed lips.

‘It’s not a subject Mr Khan is willing to discuss.’

Clearly he’s got issues, Rani said to herself. This is like pulling teeth, and I thought it would be fun! Who was I kidding? He’s just a working class wide boy with the manners to match! She began to despair that she would ever get beneath the guard he was putting up. He kept deflecting each of her advances with stock answers as if he were swatting at flies. More in desperation than in hope, she had one last go.

‘Have you ever said I love you and not meant it?’

There was silence. Not just the sort of silence you got when there were no sounds, but the sort of silence only possible in a vacuum. Rani felt as if all the air in the car had been sucked out and they were living the very last second of life. She scrunched up her eyes waiting for the response, whatever it would be. And then it came.

‘I’m an actor, of course I have.’ Rani felt the air rush back into the car and breathed again. Good answer, she thought. Perhaps we’re getting somewhere after all.

‘What about you, Miss de Silver?’ Omar asked with a tight smile.

Rani was a little taken aback as she wasn’t used to having the tables turned on her like this.

‘Call me Rani, please,’ she said, trying to buy a bit of thinking time. She could feel her face glowing with embarrassment.

‘Well, Rani, yes or no?’ Omar rephrased the question and pressed his advantage.

Rani squirmed.

‘No, but I’ve heard it,’ she replied rather coyly. She felt the blood pumping through her body.

Omar was intrigued but said nothing.

Rani was relieved when the car finally arrived at the film set and she could escape from the claustrophobia she felt. She needed to put some distance between herself and Omar Khan, demigod, movie star and, by all accounts, show-off. Her thoughts and feelings were confused and tangled with her need for professionalism and she required space to unravel the mess. After all, she’d waited years for this moment and now it was here she was unsure of how to proceed. As soon as the car door opened there was a swarm of assistants all queuing up to take orders and do his bidding. Rani couldn’t help but see many of them were young, pretty women. It felt quite alarming as she was caught up in the middle of them and washed away like a boat from the shore. As she disappeared from view she did manage to say goodbye.

‘Thank you for your time, Mr Khan. Good luck with the filming,’ she cried out. After all, whatever she felt about him she’d been brought up to be polite.

‘You’d best come this way, miss.’ It was George, the driver. He ushered her away, supporting her limping form with an arm the size of a large tree around her waist and leading her towards a long trailer.

‘I’ve never been on a movie set before; I’ve only ever seen these mobile home things, well, in the movies!’ Rani said with surprise. George laughed.

‘You get used to it, miss. They’re nothing special, not if you end up living in them week after week. Here, let me help you.’ And he gently lowered her into a chair and found a stool to prop her swollen leg on.

‘Thank you, George, really, I’m fine.’

She looked around her at the trailer. There were photographs of Omar Khan in frames dotted about the place and Rani realised she must have been shown into his trailer. There were pictures of him with various famous people and glamorous women, the heads of state of India, Pakistan, the British prime minister and even one with him playing golf with two former American presidents. But the one that caught her eye was of a little Indian girl standing in front of an old brick building. The picture looked very old and the girl looked as if she was no more than eight. Rani squinted her eyes as she strained to read some lettering carved into the building behind the little girl and could just make out a few of the letters. It looked like poor. Rani gently picked up the tatty wooden frame to take a closer look. As she did the door to the trailer opened quickly, which shocked her so much she let go of the picture. She grabbed for it as it fell towards the floor but she couldn’t catch it. Rani winced as the glass shattered and the frame broke in two.

‘Sorry!’ she exclaimed, looking towards the door. It was Omar Khan’s manager.

She was a woman in her late forties, smartly dressed but very offhand. She huffed and looked disapprovingly at Rani and the picture.

‘Don’t be. I don’t know why he keeps the scrappy little thing, anyway,’ she said. Rani hobbled around trying to find something to collect the broken pieces of glass in. George entered the room from the bedroom at the back of the trailer.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked. The manager looked at Rani and pointed.

‘This clumsy girl’s smashed Sahib’s treasured picture, poking her nose into his things. That’s reporters for you,’ she said in a gleeful tone.

Rani looked at George for support.

‘It really wasn’t like that. It caught my eye, that’s true, and I was wondering who the photograph was of. Then I was startled and it slipped from my hand. I’ll repair it or replace it, of course,’ she insisted.

‘Come on, I’ll give you a hand tidying up and then we’d better get you out of here before you do any more damage,’ George said, smiling kindly at Rani. She was pleased to be believed and her relief showed across her face.

‘They’re about to start the day’s filming, miss, so I’ll find you somewhere you can sit without getting in the way,’ George said.

The manager made a very loud sulky sound so she was sure they had heard her and stormed out of the trailer.

‘Watch her, miss, she’s a right one. I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her, and I don’t think that’s very far, judging by the size of her! ‘

Rani began to laugh but felt unsure if she should.

‘Oh, don’t you worry, she knows how I feel about her, but you’d do well not to let on too much. She’s a dragon. Thinks it’s her job to stop attractive women like you getting too close to Mr Khan, if you don’t mind me saying how attractive you are,’ George added. He began to blush.

Rani smiled.

‘Not at all, George. That’s very kind of you. It’s nice to be appreciated and thank you for the warning about her,’ Rani said, standing up with the pieces of the frame and the old photograph in her hand. ‘Who is it?’ she asked.

‘It’s his mother,’ George said. ‘Come on, I’ll show you to your seat.’ And with that he opened the door to the trailer and helped Rani down the few steps.

The set was busy and noisy. From where Rani was sitting it looked like a headless chicken convention. There were people rushing in all directions and saying all sorts of things but not much seemed to be actually happening. Suddenly the noise stopped and the set fell totally silent. Omar walked in, his head bowed, listening to the man walking with him. They both stopped, smiled at each other and then the man walked away, leaving Omar standing alone at the bottom of a wide staircase.

‘Lights, camera, action,’ the other man bellowed. He’s obviously the director, thought Rani as she stared at the scene. A pretty girl wearing a sari ran onto the set and rushed past Omar. She was in floods of tears. He held out a hand to grab her by the arm as she tried to climb the stairs, pulling her back towards him. The girl struggled for a moment and then melted into his arms as he pulled her to his chest. Their lips were just about to meet when the director yelled.

‘Cut!’

Rani felt her heart rise as she saw the girl about to kiss the screen legend and she felt it fall as she realised their lips were not actually going to touch. There was a round of applause from the cast and crew who were watching the filming.

‘We’ll print that,’ shouted the director. ‘Set up for the next scene, make-up, do something about her hair!’ he screamed at no one in particular. George came back to stand behind Rani’s chair.

‘And that’s how it goes, all day long! Mr Khan stands about looking handsome, the girls faint into his arms and then they have a song and a dance.’