Writing in Style.
by
Angharad.

I was a calligrapher, I did the fancy writing on things when they didn't want it done by machine, anything from wedding lists and labels to certificates for all sorts, including politicians, when they'd been granted the freedom of the town centre and that sort of thing. I wasn't particularly well paid because you can do it with a computer but when they wanted something special I was the go-to for it in our town.

You can imagine my surprise when I had a very unusual phone call promising all sorts of riches for relatively little work. It appeared a film studio was doing a film based in the 19th century and they needed a hand to write a letter in copperplate. Money for old rope, except the man, was rather intrusive. He asked me about the size of my hands. I was embarrassed, what did it matter how big my hand was, in fact, was rather delicately built, not very tall, and with rather small hands and feet. I knew they were small because I could wear boys' shoes and gloves. However, he made me measure my hand in length and breadth.

I was hopeless in school at sports, just too small. I was the hero of the week once when a kitten got caught in the cavity wall of the school, I was the only one small enough to reach in and lift her out. It was back to normal the next week and I was back to being ignored for things, everyone else was too small for. It didn't happen very often. If I'd been a girl it might have been easier, although small there wasn't very much difference between the smallest girl and me. Not that I ever thought about it, I was boy end of.

The chap from the film company explained his personal questions. "We are making this bodice-ripper-type film and we want to include a shot of a hand writing a letter in copperplate, the only thing, is the writer is a woman."

"Oh," was my reply.

Look come in and let's see what we can do, he gave me an appointment to visit the studios and two days later I arrived at the gate, and cleared security, wearing this huge badge stating,'Visitor'. Eventually, I was taken to meet the man who'd phoned. He was huge, about six foot four and nearly as wide. He greeted me, shaking hands but also examining mine and he was delighted to see I had relatively long fingers. "This could work after all," he said and then muttered if youngsters could write instead of typing or texting everything, they'd be able to teach the leading lady how to do it herself.

He showed me a copy of the script and what I had to write. I asked him what period was the film and told him they didn't phrase things like the script had, and I showed him what they would have said, everything was much more formal and husbands and wives often addressed each other as mister or missus. He asked me if I had used a quill pen and I said I was familiar with them. They then produced a pen and some ink and cartridge paper and I was told to write what we has just discussed.

"Will I be paid for this?" I asked saying that I was leaving other work to be there.

"Don't worry, we'll make sure your time is compensated." I felt much happier then.

I was then asked if I could make my writing look more feminine. I added a few flourishes explaining that copperplate was quite a formal style but I had softened it a little. He called an older man over who it seems was one of the producers and they talked for a few moments, him gesticulating at me every so often.

It appeared they wanted to film me, as the leading lady, writing the letter, only my hand would be in shot or part of my arm at most and in the film she would narrate what I was writing. They would pay me £2 000.00 for my time which could take two or more days, this sort of camera work was very difficult with lighting and so on to film, so it could take two or three days. That was as much as I earned in two or three months, so I was quite happy with it.

I met The leading lady as well, Camelia Teatree, which it surprised me to learn was her birth name. ! wanted to laugh out loud because Camelia is the family name of the tea we drink, Camelia sinensis. I knew the fact would be useful one day but I kept it to myself. Camelia wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer but she was absolutely adorable. The problem was that she knew it, I was putty in her hands. We were to shoot the scene on Friday as there wouldn't be as many people about. She insisted that I be dressed the same as her, just in case I was accidentally filmed. The cameraman said it wouldn't happen

"Well, if he's dressed the same as me it won't matter, will it?"

He walked away shaking his head and muttering but the man I spoken to was the director and he thought it was a good idea. For two grand I'd wear whatever they wanted. I was beginning to think I could get the boiler serviced after all.

I was taken over to wardrobe and after extensive measurements were taken they pulled several pieces of clothing off a pile of racks and before long I was breathless in corset, plus bra and fake boobs, blouse and tight long skirt. A wig like Camelia's hair was shoved on my head and I dragged through to makeup. This was all very interesting but I didn't quite see the point. After she had finished doing all sorts of things to my face I was told to go and see the director.

"I haven't got time, Camelia, I thought we'd resolved most of your gripes this time."

"It's not Camelia," I said and he looked me up and down.

"You look quite a bit like her, your build I expect and I wasn't expecting to see her again." He seemed to think for a minute. "If we were to offer to double your fee could you be available for a few days more?"

"I'd have to cancel some work," I lied, everything was very quiet, "I suppose I could be. How long are we talking?"

"No more than a week, You look so much like her I thought we could use you as a stand-in for some of her shots. It's a bit boring, but for just hanging around we'd be paying you effectively a thousand per day. Is that satisfactory?"

"If it overruns, I could lose money," I suggested, thinking that this could solve my financial worries for a few months.

"How about we say, a thousand a day or part day and provided you don't mess us around, if it overruns, you'll still be paid." I quickly saw that it would mean at least four thousand if not five, it was okay with me, in fact, I hoped it did overrun by another day.

We shook on it and I was told to come the next day which was Thursday and to come early, this meant 6.00 am, it was going to be tough, but I could do it. The next day was boring, wearing stuff like Camelia I was taken to pose on various locations as the director directed ( I suppose it's what they do) and then Camelia would be brought for the actual shot or whatever they call it. I was standing around for twelve hours, but that meant I'd be a thousand richer than I was when I came. The next day back in skirts and made up like Camelia, I wrote the letter and they filmed me doing it. They were surprised as we managed it in one take, saving them loads and I was told I'd get a bonus for that. I didn't know how much but, they had fed me for two days as well as provided company and although I was in drag, I was quite enjoying myself.

I got myself five days altogether plus the bonus, they actually paid me six grand and I was as happy as a pig in shit, plus I'd actually not just watched but participated in the making of a movie.

Finally, a couple of weeks after I finished with the movie crew who were all very nice, I had a call from the director, it appears that Camelia was very pleased with my stand-in stuff and she might want to use me again, would I be available? Then he said very quietly, the previous stand-in was very difficult and I had been so cooperative. I asked if the terms would be similar and to delight he said, if we use you as an extra you'll get a bit more, but it would probably be as a woman. I told him that wasn't a problem. Looks like I'm going to be in skirts again in two months with Camelia's next film, I'm quite looking forward to it, I might actually have some savings at the end of it, perhaps I'll tell you about it afterward.