Chapter 15
We were staying in a place called Brush Park, which was one of the more upmarket districts in Detroit. The studio had rented a large, fully furnished house for Henry. That was where their resident fixers had stopped. There was no food or drink in the place and nobody had been in to clean prior to our arrival. I'd been so tied up sorting out the stuff in London that I'd left it to the LA lot to get everything ready for us. I tutted at how sloppy they'd been.
"They did know we were coming, right?" Henry said as he checked out the empty fridge. We'd both slept our way through the flight, so neither of us had eaten. It was ten at night and even if I found an open grocery store, I didn't fancy venturing out till I'd got my bearings in daylight. I searched around for a listings magazine or some takeaway leaflets.
In the end, I had to google. I found a pizza delivery place and ordered some food and drink. It wasn't ideal, as Henry was starting intensive training and needed to limit his carb intake, but it was either that or nothing. With our food on the way, I began to explore the house.
Henry was already unpacking our cases in the master bedroom, a large, imposing room with a killer ensuite. I ran my finger along the fireplace, dislodging a covering of dust. It hadn't been cleaned in weeks. I decided organising a cleaning team would be first on my agenda. "This place is alright, isn't it?" He said cheerily.
"Once it's been cleaned, yes."
"They don't all have your organisational standards Sarah. This is better than most of the accommodation I've been put in over the years," he told me. "There was one place in Ireland that I stayed that was riddled with fleas. Never itched so much in my life. It took the production assistant a fortnight to get an infestation crew in." He shuddered at the memory. I laughed.
The next day, after sending a stroppy email to the administrative team at the LA studios, I was sent a care pack listing local services, a map and a rather insincere apology. They'd assumed that I'd be organising everything from the UK, so hadn't bothered.
Henry was picked up fairly early for a meeting with Zach to discuss their shooting schedule and other requirements, so I was free to get our place organised. I discovered rather quickly, that as soon as I mentioned the word 'Superman', every company in Detroit bent over backwards to accommodate us. In almost no time I had a cleaning squad beavering their way through the house, a grocery delivery on it's way and the back yard being tidied up.
Henry seemed in a great mood when he arrived home that evening. He'd met with Zach, been to meet everyone at his new gym and been to see a few of the various sets they'd be using for filming. "My new personal trainer is a great guy," he said, "does cross fit competitions for fun, and wants to introduce me to the other people doing them. He suggested that rather than just bulking up for the part, I should use the opportunity to get super fit as well."
"You're already super fit," I said, frowning slightly, "what does Zach think about it?"
"He's quite happy," Henry told me, "as long as I bulk up enough for the part."
It took me quite a while to settle into life in Detroit. In London, I was sure-footed, knowledgeable about the best places. I knew lots of people, had lots of friends and had tried and tested contacts. In Detroit I had nothing and nobody but Henry. I waited eagerly for him to come home each day as there seemed little for me to do and no-one for me to talk to. Even the gossip boards were quiet. I think he lost a lot of fans when we announced our engagement.
I spent my days pacing around the house, bored silly. Henry was busy with his training and all the pre-production stuff that goes on before a shoot. One of his co-stars had delayed the project, so we faced being in Detroit even longer than first anticipated. I took to counting down the days till we could leave. When shooting finally started, it got even worse. Henry was working long hours as well as training hard. I barely saw him.
