In Lincolnshire, there's a famously tall mediaeval tower, the Boston Stump, which is visible from miles away and is actually part of the parish church of St. Botolph.

I lived in London and had to drive to Boston one morning to be an extra in a film which was being shot there. It would tell the true story of John Cotton, the charismatic vicar of Boston throughout the 1620s, whose non-conformist preaching led to some of his followers, and eventually Cotton himself, emulating The Pilgrim Fathers by sailing off to a new Puritan life in America.

Film extras tend to be chosen to fit particular roles and my niche is playing rough kids, street urchins and ‘Artful Dodger’ types. I’ve been in films and on TV fairly often over the last few years, playing young teenagers despite me now being twenty-five, so obviously I’m a bit short and skinny — and I'm getting rather old to play thirteen, to be honest.

That day I would be playing another street urchin in a key scene which would be filmed right in front of the Stump, with lots of us extras milling about, all dressed as common people. The ‘followers’ would then have to make their way through this throng to reach their boat.

After we’d all been made up and dressed ready for ‘action’, there was a problem when the actress playing the minor speaking part of an angry – and rather tarty woman, had some sort of seizure while in the makeup chair and an ambulance took her off to hospital. That could mean losing half a day of filming, and since her role was crucial to the plot, the director was faced with losing both time and money, no matter how the problem was resolved.

He then decided that the quickest option would be to find someone else who could fit the actress's costume and actually mouth her few words, which she could then overdub when she was recovered.

We extras were called together on the offchance that one of us might fit the costume — shades of Cinderella! And since there wasn’t a woman amongst us of a suitable size but there was a man, I got the job.

I pointed out that I was actually male but that fell on deaf ears as I was rushed off to have whatever done that was deemed necessary. The costume and makeup people just got on with it as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. Twenty minutes later I was back on set with long hair, rouged cheeks and displaying a large amount of silicone bosom. In the circumstances, the director decided he could live without the street urchin.

In the scene, as the followers made their way to the boat, I was to be heckling them and reading my lines from large boards which would be raised above and behind whichever follower I was supposed to be heckling at the time, and I would actually have to shout for real in order to give the correct face and chest movements.

With my experience as an extra, plus what I’d learned from watching lots of professional actors on set, I was able to say “No problem.” when the director asked if I could handle it.

We did a couple of trial runs then went for a take. I thought it went well but the director made us do it three more times before he was happy.

So that was the end of my role in the film, or so I thought, until the director sent for me.

“That was excellent, young man. You were very convincing. However, I’ve had an idea that might enable us to reinstate the street urchin. Have you ever been involved with CGI, green screen and all that?”

“No I haven’t but I'd like to give it a try some day.”

“Good man. But would you be available to be in a film studio in north London tomorrow?"

I said "Yes, I live there."

"Well, I think we could film you doing what you would have expected to be doing as a street urchin, but in front of a green screen. Then we could drop the new footage into an existing take with the green screen background removed, so you could be playing two parts in the same film. And absolutely nobody would be any the wiser!”

“And," he continued, "I’ve just had another green screen idea for a little scene as the boat sets sail. So, since you'd already be at the studio, you could also play the angry woman again.”

“So would I get double pay?”

“Well, let's just say that for your flexibility we'd add a bonus to make sure that you'd effectively receive that.”

I wasn’t going to turn down work or a bonus so I agreed to do it.

So early the next day I was dressed as the street urchin and standing in front of a huge green screen in a London film studio. I had to run across the screen, looking a bit shifty, with the back of my head mostly towards the camera, so I would appear to be behind everyone else in the finished scene. My original role would have meant my weaving in and out of the crowd but this way was easier.

Half a dozen takes later the director was happy so I was whizzed off to get ‘tarted up’ as the angry woman again. The original actress had now been passed fit but couldn't even be considered for today because the character needed to be identifiably the same woman as in the previous day's footage.

This time it would be a shot across the harbour channel with me being filmed so I could be superimposed on a previously-filmed clip of the view from the moving boat. I didn’t have to do much but stand there, shaking my fist.

“Money for old rope.” I thought.

But I hadn’t realised that the famous actor Paul Woodridge would be in the scene as well, leaning against a mast in the foreground and looking pensive, as his character watched mine, obviously having had history with this particular woman.

We had a rehearsal then a lamp blew, requiring a short break, and I got chatting with Paul and the director about our roles, and I felt much more important than an ordinary extra – an equal, almost.

As soon as the lamp had been replaced, we tried again and managed two takes but the director wasn’t happy. In fact he decided to change the camera position, meaning that our previous lighting setup would have to be redone, so we took our lunch break while that happened. Paul and I had lunch together while the cinematographer and lighting people were no doubt cursing the director.

So, having been involved in artistic conversations with Paul earlier, he and I continued in similar vein but at one point I was wondering if he was actually hitting on me. He was certainly looking at my silicone chest more often than my face. It occurred to me that Paul may have been unaware that I wasn’t actually a woman as he may never have seen me in my urchin costume. But, to be fair, I’m not sure I would have wanted to look at my face with its blacked-out teeth!

Anyway, we both enjoyed our little artistic discussion but then he, despite being a renowned actor, began asking me about my life as a lowly extra. I explained that for my main job I worked from home as a website designer, which more than paid the bills and allowed me the flexibility to follow my dramatic leanings as and when required, but that I’d really like to do some ‘proper’ acting.

When we finished lunch we returned to the green screen and swiftly nailed the scene in only two takes so were then allowed to leave. We said goodbye on the set because Paul had to dash off due to being in a West End stage show that evening, but he said he’d get me a ticket if I sent my details to his agent. Then, before leaving, he said, “It’s been delightful working with you, darling!" ...and he kissed me! Actors, eh!

So I duly sent an email to his agent with my details but didn’t expect Paul to receive it, let alone for him to reply. However he did, and asked which day I’d like to see his show and he also wondered if I perhaps might join him for supper afterwards at a little restaurant near the theatre.

Now ordinarily I might have smelled a rat, but this was a famous actor with a string of awards who might be worth cultivating as a contact because, these days, without parental money or good contacts, you’ll struggle to go very far in the business. And at my age, playing boys won't result in a long career.

But thinking back to that lunchtime and Paul’s reaction to me, I started to wonder about him. I’d searched on the internet and learned that he was married with kids but there were also hints that he swung both ways, so that was no help. And his current show was a revival of a musical comedy in which he was playing a gay drag queen pretending to be a macho man. So that didn’t help either.

But then I thought that going to meet him as my male self might be ok, yet might confuse or annoy him if I’d got the wrong end of the stick, whereas going as a woman might have much the same results but could also give a talking point and show my acting skills. So that’s what I decided on. Now all I had to do was to convince my sister – she and I shared a flat – to go along with it.

Lauren was a bit sceptical of the whole thing and thought it could be a ‘Me Too’ scenario either way, but I was able to convince her that things have now moved on since the scandal erupted, and anyway, underneath it all, I would be a man who is physically stronger than he looks. And my karate might also come in useful, if it came to that!

So she went along with it, trained me in all things girlie and sorted out some suitable clothes for me to wear. We then proposed to have a trial run, by which time our hairdresser cousin had been involved, so I ended up with pierced ears and highlights in my now, not-quite-so-shaggy, urchin hair.

The trial run consisted of the three of us having a girlie pub night out, including a meal. I was made to do all the ordering, make several visits to the ladies’, sort out the bill and interact with the bar and waiting staff – and do some flirting with a bunch of lads who were showing interest in us. So after we’d left the pub without any obvious disasters, there was an inquest, resulting in a lot of compliments and only a short list of things to be improved.

A few days later I had to do it again, but this time in a gay bar, with only my gay brother for company. And I was hit on several times by some of his lesbian acquaintances who seemed slightly disappointed by my tactful disinterest, but I managed to carry it off. My brother was very complimentary about my ‘performance’, and didn’t think I’d have a problem on the night.

So I now felt able to take up Paul’s offer, and on the following Saturday evening if possible. He emailed back, telling me to pick up my ticket at the stage door and to return there after the curtain call, when I would be directed to his dressing room.

Lauren had me in a smart, mid-thigh floral dress that showed off my legs, as did the high heels. Our cousin ensured my hair, makeup and everything else was perfect before I went via the Tube to the theatre.

It all went swimmingly. I collected my ticket, was shown to my seat by a very eager young man and thoroughly enjoyed the first half.

At the interval I picked up my pre-ordered gin and tonic from a tall table at which a man — who looked about my age — was already standing and holding a small beer.

“So, what did you think of the first half?” he said.

“It was excellent, so I’m very glad I was able to get a ticket, especially for a Saturday night.”

“Yes, it has been good, hasn't it! When I booked online I got the very last ticket so I’m quite lucky to be here, as well as being lucky enough to be talking to such a lovely young lady — I’m Alex, by the way.”

“No doubt you say that to all the girls, but thanks anyway Alex! And I’m Ashley.”

So we had a little chat about the show, then others we’d seen, including some we’d both seen, until it was time to return to our seats – where a tap on my shoulder revealed that Alex was in the seat behind mine. So all through the second half I could hear his laugh above everyone else’s.

We were thrown together again in the crowded side aisle as we headed for the exit after the curtain calls, so we quickly exchanged equally positive views on the second half. Then, before we went our separate ways, Alex said “Look Ashley, I’ve really enjoyed meeting and talking with you. If you have the time, would you like to continue our conversation at the pub round the corner?”

“I’m really sorry Alex, but, although I’ve enjoyed chatting to you too, I’ve arranged to meet someone else after I leave here. Without that I may well have accepted your invitation, but perhaps we’ll meet up at another show.”

And then I impetuously kissed his cheek and quickly rushed off in the direction of the stage door before he had a chance to ask for my phone number.

I went through the stage door and asked to be directed to Paul’s dressing room. A phone call was made and someone soon arrived, but rather than ask me to follow him, he said, "Unfortunately, having already done a matinée performance earlier, Paul felt unwell during this evening’s interval and only just managed to complete the show. He is most disappointed to not feel up to doing anything now but sleep."

The messenger then asked me to accept Paul’s sincere apologies and told me that Paul would contact me when he was feeling better.

“Well, what a total waste of all that effort!” I thought, “And it may be a plausible excuse though I’m not sure I believe it. But at least I got a free ticket to see an excellent show, and to have an enjoyable chat with a nice ... rather attractive man.”

So, being disappointed and annoyed at the same time, I went out of the stage door and I, distractedly, almost bumped into a passing pedestrian. I looked up at his face to apologise, and said “I’m so sorry ... Alex??”

Paul Woodridge never did contact me again.

Not that I cared!

[John Cotton became the spiritual leader of his new community in Massachusetts. It was he who named it Boston, and it grew to be a place now fifteen times larger than its English namesake.]

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A Little Extra - The Reckoning

Author:

Suzie Dalkin

Caution:

CAUTION: Not Work-Safe

Audience Rating:

Adult Oriented (r21/a)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Crossdressing

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Disguises / On the Run / In Hiding

TG Elements:

Performer/Entertainer

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

A LITTLE EXTRA 2 - THE RECKONING by Suzie Dalkin

The continuation of a story from the less glamorous end of the film industry.

PLEASE NOTE: Two years ago, one of my first stories was A Little Extra, which was self-contained until I realised that I'd left enough loose ends to continue it a bit further. So readers might find this part easier to follow if they read A Little Extra first. It tells of how a youngish male film extra had ended up in a London theatre, disguised as an attractive young woman. He had been there to see a play, using a free ticket he'd been given by its famous lead actor.

During the interval, a young man named Alex had struck up a conversation with Ashley, who had enjoyed chatting about the play with him. Their paths had crossed again as they left their seats at the end of the play and Ashley then had to decline his offer of going for a drink in a nearby pub, due to a prior engagement, one which subsequently would fail to happen. Outside the theatre, Ashley then literally bumped into Alex yet again, so they did go for that drink after all...

...The point of the evening from my point of view had been, besides seeing a play and having dinner with someone famous, to demonstrate my acting skills to an insider who may be able to get me into 'proper' acting. It now seemed, apart from the interesting conversation and seeing a good play, to have fallen short on the networking opportunities. However, it was no use being negative so I thought I'd make the best of the situation and just go with it, without any ulterior motive.

Of course, Alex wanted to know why the change of heart, so I was fairly honest and told him how my supper date with an actor friend at some nearby restaurant hadn't happened because he was ill, which I hadn't known until I switched my phone back on after the play. Little white lie!

At this he said "Well, as you missed out on your meal I can't let you go hungry, so if we're quick we may be able to eat in their restaurant upstairs, before they stop serving. That's if you'd like to, of course."

I nodded in agreement and he took a menu from the rack and said "Look at the menu and I'll see if they have a table. Probably not much chance on a Saturday night but it's worth asking."

I said "That's thoughtful of you, Alex, and I'll eat anything anyway, so if they can fit us in, I'd love to have supper with you. But only on one condition: that we go Dutch."

Alex spoke to someone and came back beaming, saying: "They've had a late cancellation from someone who isn't feeling too well, so we've got a table for two. And if you didn't know where you were expecting to dine, well, perhaps it's the same table you'd have been having anyway!"

We were soon seated upstairs, and had our order taken.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself, Ashley. But first, let me guess. You're an actress and your actor friend was in the play tonight, am I right?"

"Yes, I am a sort-of actress, but I didn't say my friend was in our play. Actors do watch plays as well as acting in them, you know! Although they're more likely to be 'resting' between jobs." Economical with the truth, but more a diversion tactic than a lie.

"So, what is a 'sort-of' actress?"

"I'm actually an extra in films. I've been doing it since I was twelve, and I'm lucky to be able to fit my day job in I.T. around any film work. Anyway, now it's your turn to tell me about Alex."

"Nothing much to tell. I sell and hire out audio-visual equipment, sometimes for film and TV, but mainly for exhibitions." It's all a bit boring really - TV projectors and screens, multi-TV walls and the like, and contracts with lots of small print."

"So do you supply green screens then?"

"We do, but they aren't a large part of our business. Have you acted in front of one then?

"Yes, on my last film. We were on location when an actress playing a crucial minor role fell ill. I was the only extra that her costume would fit, and they couldn't afford to lose a day's filming.

The following day, the director had me in north London in front of a huge green screen, to do an extra scene he'd just come up with and, while he had me there, he also filmed me doing the part I'd actually been hired for, so both clips could be slotted into the film.

"That all sounds like fun."

"It was, but it was also rather strange, acting the part of one member of a crowd when the rest of the crowd isn't there, but actors have been doing much the same ever since movies were invented."

"So, do you get many speaking parts or is it always pedestrians, crowd scenes and the like?"

"No, I wouldn't normally speak, but I did in the green screen one, although that was a bit of an emergency situation."

"I get the impression you'd like to be a real actress. You've certainly got the looks for it."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd seen me on set with my blacked-out teeth and wig! I'm now getting the impression that you must be a good salesman. You've certainly got the charm and patter for it."

"Well, I think you've also got the charm, the voice and the everything else to make it in acting, Ashley!"

"Like I said, 'A good salesman', as you've just proved, but thanks anyway. That alone more than made up for my little disappointment earlier!"

Alex then became serious, saying "By the way, I didn't ask how your friend is. I wouldn't want to be dining and flirting with someone whose friend is in intensive care."

"Oh, he's fine," I improvised, "He said he was just feeling a bit under the weather."

I then added "And I didn't miss your admission that you're flirting, even if I'd already noticed! I think your charm may be slipping!"

Our meals arrived and slowed down the chat somewhat, but I was having fun and I'm sure Alex was too. The food was good too, and all thoughts of a certain actor had been forgotten. Eventually we decided we didn't need a pudding so ordered liqueur coffees to prolong things a bit more.

So we left the pub after what had been a wonderful evening. Both being Londoners, we'd be going home on the Tube so were able to head for the nearest station before we'd even asked where each other lived – and found we were only half a mile apart. So we took the same train and continued our non-stop banter, which I'm sure some of the few late-night travellers might have thought of as bickering.

By the time we arrived at my stop, we'd exchanged phone numbers and managed a goodnight kiss that was slightly more lingering than that. I left the train but, before the doors closed, Alex jumped out too, and we strolled, hand-in-hand, and deep in conversation, while he walked me home.

We said our goodbyes outside my door. I was sorely tempted to invite him in but wasn't ready for that on more than one level, so used the excuse of not disturbing Lauren, my sister-cum-flatmate. It took several minutes for another, slightly longer goodnight kiss before Alex finally walked down the road, having promised he'd ring me.

As soon as I'd shut the door, the inquest began. "Did he clock you? Did he molest you? Was he a perfect gentleman?"

"Give me time to take my coat off." I replied, "But basically the answer to all of them is no, because I never even met him, although I did see him in the play."

"Really? Well, you certainly met someone – and kissed them, judging by the state of your lipstick."

So we shared some wine for an hour while I told her all about it.

And after my little tale, Lauren then decided to say things I never expected.

"Do you remember when we were little, and I used to dress you up as my little sister?

"Vaguely."

"Well, Mummy didn't approve so she made me stop doing it by the time we started school. Then you played Juliet in your secondary school play and, although you were wonderful in it, lots of my friends' brothers assumed you must be gay. And the fact that you seemed to be happy hanging out with the girls yet never went out on dates with any of them sort of confirmed it to many of us."

"Oh!"

"Mum, God rest her soul, thought much the same I'm sure, but never wanted to mention it. And then, encouraged by mum, you started your film career, went to college, became a successful techie and we all thought the amorous side of life had passed you by."

"Oh!"

"But when you dreamed up this cross-dressing thing it reminded me of all that. I went along with it and the Ashley who went to the pub with our cousin and me was a revelation, showing a lively personality compared to the quiet techie one."

"I must admit, I surprised myself!"

"And that made me think of you and your history of dressing-up. Put Ashley in a costume and he shines. And I don't want to offend you but, without a costume there's something missing. Our brother told me much the same after your visit to the gay bar, so I was wondering what would come out of your theatre trip beyond what you intended. And I now think I may have been right to wonder!

I didn't sleep at all well that night and was up early thinking of my evening with Alex, and of what I wanted. Then my phone rang.

"Hello Alex. Thanks for a wonderful evening. I presume you got home ok."

He thanked me too and was wondering if I was doing anything today, because he'd love to see me again.

Given Lauren's comments last night, this was leading to stuff I still needed to get my head around, so I said "Sorry, Alex, I'm busy today, but how about tomorrow evening?"

"Sorry, Ashley, I can't manage tomorrow but I'm ok for Tuesday if you are."

An hour later, by which time my sister was up, and no doubt had heard some of it, the call ended with Lauren looking upon a dreamy smile.

"So that was Lover-boy then?"

"Mmmm"

"And are you seeing him again?"

"Mmmm"

"I think that we need to talk again, Ashley."

So that's what we did, once she'd made us both a coffee.

"You must have realised you've made a rod for your own back. New relationships are always a bit fraught. Any initial attraction can change as you learn more about each other. And finding out that your girlfriend isn't female is a pretty big obstacle for a man, you have to admit."

"So let's consider your options.

"You could tell him the complete truth. He might dump you for leading him on, even if he saw it was a plausible explanation. But if he accepted that you weren't a compulsive cross-dresser, you wouldn't need to cross-dress and you could have a normal, but possibly gay, relationship if that was what you both wanted.

Alternatively you could say nothing but eventually he'd find out, either from your avoiding sex or possibly from the internet, which loves movie world gossip. And either could well mean goodbye."

We discussed the gender thing a bit further. Lauren said "So far, you've cross-dressed for several different, but fairly valid reasons. The current situation is more awkward, and could have future implications beyond any relationship with Alex."

She then pointed out that there would be no longer-term future with Alex unless he knew the truth, and the sooner the better. So we agreed that I ought to do that at our date on Tuesday, and be prepared for it not going well, hopefully without need of my karate training.

"But, forgetting Alex for a moment, have you enjoyed the rest of it, the clothes, the getting ready to go out, the flirting and everything else? And could you see yourself doing it more regularly?"

"I think I could. At least to try it out, sort of like a hobby. It's somehow a bit exciting. And, after all, an actor's job is all about pretending to be someone else."

"In that case, young lady, you can't keep borrowing my clothes. We're going shopping!"

But that meant a Sunday afternoon shopping expedition.

So with Lauren as my style consultant, I managed to get through several hundred pounds, being kitted out in everything I'd need for Tuesday, and perhaps a bit longer.

On the Monday I was due to present a new website design, which luckily was already completed and checked, but my mind wasn't completely on the job, and in the evening my sister gave me a dress rehearsal for Tuesday, interrupted by another hour on the phone with Alex, which left me both elated and depressed about what could happen tomorrow.

When working at home on Tuesday I was equally distracted, partly through being the female Ashley all day, before Lauren and our cousin arrived to make sure I was perfectly presented for Lover-boy's arrival.

By the time he arrived, my cousin was already gone but I was able to introduce Alex to my sister, and she gave me her pre-arranged signal of approval.

So, pleasantries completed, Alex and I headed for a nearby pub, but while it was still light, we took the pretty way, through our local park, which was where I was hoping to find a secluded bench on which we could have the 'little chat'.

So sitting together while watching a glorious sunset I said "Alex, I need to tell you something before we perhaps get too far into a relationship."

He then said "Oh! But in a way, that makes this easier because I also have something you need to know."

We both took a few seconds to process the implications of what had just happened before I said "So, shall I go first?"

He said "I'd prefer to go first if you don't mind, as it may have a bearing on what I think you may be wanting to tell me."

I said "Ok, if you're happy to do so."

"So, he has a wife and kids in Manchester." I thought. "Or has Aids, or is emigrating to New Zealand next week." However I put on a brave front and steeled myself for the bad news.

He then said that the previous day he'd been talking about green screens with one of his customers who told him a story about this film extra, a short young man, who had been filmed at his studio against a green screen a few weeks back.

"Oh, oh!" I thought.

Alex continued "He was acting the part of a young urchin. And then the studio man had seen him being filmed later in the day, this time dressed as a busty woman, in a scene with Paul Woodridge, whom the young actor seemed to know quite well."

At this, I burst into tears, so Alex put his arm round me and said "It's ok, Ashley. I'm not storming off or anything like that. And although you tried to put me off the scent about Paul Woodridge, I think I see the picture. Now would that be something close to what you were going to tell me?"

"Yes it was, Alex. I'm sorry I misled you, but I was only there using Paul's free ticket as a networking opportunity by showing off my acting skills to someone who could help me into real acting.

That didn't quite work out, but you, on the other hand, met someone with no agenda other than conversation, and I enjoyed that hugely, but now I'd better leave you, and I truly am sorry."

"Whoa, Ashley. I'm sorry if I've upset you. I've also enjoyed meeting and talking to you too, so please stay and can we now formally introduce ourselves? I'm Alex Wolvery. I'm a salesman, I'm single, and I'm pleased to meet you."

"Thank you Alex. And, however I'm dressed, I'm Ashley Marstone. I'm a website designer and actor, I'm also single and I'm extremely pleased to meet you, too."

Alex then followed up with "Oh, by the way, I do have something else to add, Ashley. I've not had too many relationships ...but I ought to tell you that, er, I'm bisexual, so if that ever became relevant to us, your situation wouldn't be a problem for me, and I'm sure I'd continue liking you, whichever gender you were or chose to be."

He then continued, "And another thing. The green screen man told me that, after you and Paul had left the studio, he'd also chatted with your film's director, who said you showed real promise as an actor, had been a great help on the shoot, and a pleasure to work with. He also said he was considering you for a speaking part in his next film. But I never told you that, of course!"

That was great to hear but the bisexuality thing was troubling me and so I explored it further, with Alex telling me that it was just one teenage encounter that didn't go anywhere, so I was thinking it might be something that won't be an issue. Who was I to take offence anyway, being dressed as I was in my new finery with a handsome young man who now knew my secret and still seemed very keen on me!

I then revealed some of the scenarios which had run through my head in the milliseconds following "But I ought to tell you..."

A park bench kiss or two then followed, while we watched the red clouds slowly fading to grey behind the London skyline.

And we never went to the pub in the end, strolling instead to Alex's flat for a late-night coffee. And, a few hours later, a mid-morning coffee.