Читать книгу The Dark Path: The dark, shocking thriller that everyone is talking about - Michelle Sacks - Страница 14

Sam

I was up early this morning, shaved, dressed, half out the door. Merry was setting Conor down in his high chair.

Where are you going?

Uppsala again, I said. I told you a few days ago.

You didn’t, she said.

It’s okay, I said, giving them each a quick kiss. You probably just forgot. You know how bad your memory can be.

You’re going again?

It’s a callback, I said. A meeting with the executive creative director this time.

She nodded. Good luck.

In the car, I checked the time, then my phone.

10 a.m., I wrote.

I pulled out of the drive and headed slowly past the neighboring houses. Mr. Nilssen was out with the horses. I raised my hand in greeting. He’s supposedly a billionaire. Sells his horses to the Saudis but still drives a Honda. God, I love the Swedes. Gives me a thrill every morning, driving out, seeing where we live and how. The sheer good fortune of it all. Sometimes you get lucky, I guess.

The day was going to be a good one. Sunny and clear. The traffic was smooth.

In forty minutes, I was outside her apartment door, ringing the doorbell.

You’re early, she said when she opened up. She was wearing a dress, ivory satin, tied tightly against her so it looked like she’d been submerged in thick cream. Her hair was loose, long, and blond and softly curled at the shoulders.

Hello, Malin. I smiled.

Come inside, she said.

Later, around the boardroom table, I looked at six young Swedes as they watched my reel. It’s a mix of old footage from the field and some new material I’ve been working on in the studio I’ve set up for myself at home. It’s good work. I know my way around a scene. I’ve been told that I have an excellent eye for framing. That I’m a natural at this.

I sipped an espresso from a mint green cup.

This is great, the creative director commented, very dynamic.

I reckon I have a fresh perspective, I said. With my background.

It wasn’t so difficult, all this self-promotion. Fake it till you make it and all.

It says here you taught at Columbia?

Yes, I said.

Why the career change?

I gave a wry smile. Well, after enough years teaching young people, you realize you’ve got it in reverse. They know it all and you’re just a dinosaur with a piece of chalk.

Oh, and I was fired. I guess I could have added that.

They laughed. A good answer. Endearing, not too cocky. I’ve got it down to an art.

So you did a lot of filmmaking as an anthropologist?

Some, yes. Mostly in the early days of my career, the time I spent doing fieldwork in Africa. But film was always what I really wanted to do. That’s why I’ve returned to documentary now.

They looked at me and I smiled. Not one of them a day over thirty, and all of them so effortlessly self-possessed you’d think they were Fortune 500 CEOs.

Snow tires. The shoot is for a company that makes snow tires.

Great, I said. Sounds interesting.

A mobile phone rang and the producer got up to take the call. Before he left the room, he slipped a business card onto the table in front of me.

Sorry, the creative director said, we’re busy with a big project at the moment; everyone’s a little distracted.

It was my cue to leave. I shut my laptop and stood up, knocking the chair back as I did.

He shook my hand. We’ll let you know.

How was your meeting? Merry asked when I got back home.

It was good, I said, really good.

She beamed. Wonderful.

She had Conor in her arms, freshly bathed and ready for bed.

His eyes were red, like he’d been crying.

Did you two have a good day? I asked.

Oh, for sure, she said. The best.