The Characterisation of Annabelle le Roux

Chapter Eight: The Call to Adventure

After work there was a stillness to the place as the actors showered and planned their evening activities. James was walking around, he was reviewing all that had been achieved during the day, when suddenly - Vanessa came running in from outside. "Oh my word, call the ambulance, call them now. Andrew is on the ground; he flew off his bike as he rounded the corner and hit a tree."

"What! Is he okay?" said James, his cellphone in his hand and he searched frantically for the emergency number.

"No!" cried Vanessa, "He is lying on the ground, bleeding and moaning, he can't talk. He's going to die, I tell you he is going to die, give me the phone, you are taking too long."

"Yes," there were pauses while Vanessa listened to the operator on the other end but James could not hear what the receiver was saying. "Hello, - there's been an accident on the corner of Third and Church street. - He is not talking, he is not moving. - Come quickly, he's going to die." She spoke frantically and in short sentences. "No, he is not in a safe space. He's in the middle of the road, anybody can ride him over - No I haven't moved him, I don't want to kill him"

There was a long pause and Vanessa scrunched her face and nodded along. As she spoke on the phone Vanessa and James walked out on the street near the film set location. Andrew was there. "Yes, yes. I am still on the line, yes I can hear you." She looked around from left to right. "Okay, yes, I see them, they are here, thank you."

The paramedics milled around like ants, they worked silently not talking to each other or Andrew or any of the bystanders. To James it seemed odd that there was no background music in life. They placed his neck in a neck brace and loaded him onto the ambulance.

"Excuse me ma'am" the paramedic came up to Vanessa "Sir" he tipped his head in James's direction. "He is in a critical condition. We have taken him to 'The War Heroes" hospital. He will receive the best medical care."

The ambulance rode off and the road became subdued.

"Let's drink tea" said James as a filler feeling very tired.

"More like whiskey" said Vanessa. Tears were running down her checks, "I can't believe that something like this has happened. What if Andrew dies. He is not ready to die. We were just talking yesterday about how he wants to go to Thailand and have a holiday that he intends to forget. That's not the type of person that should die. Only beloved old ladies with grandchildren, and hairless children in cancer adverts. They're the ones that should die. They've had time to prepare, they've said their goodbyes. Andrew didn't even say goodbye to me. He said "Catch you later Annie" I'm sure he wouldn't want those to be his last words. They're not inspiring at all. He always used to call me Annie and I hate it."

James stood there with his cup, it was now filled with cold tea.

"How could I hate that Andrew called me Annie. How could I hate anything that he did? Now that he could be dying. I am so mean"

James's phone rang "Yes, I'm James Mitchells, yes Andrew Kortley works for me. Yes, I was at the accident scene, this cellphone was used to call emergency service"

James listened silently for a while, his face getting whiter and whiter. "Thank you for informing me, I will tell the rest"

"That's the hospital, wasn't it. Andrew's dead? Isn't he? He was alive an hour ago, standing here and now he is dead. Isn't it?

James nodded his head and then said "They took him to resuscitation, but he had lost too much blood and his heart stopped beating. They think that he may have broken his back on impact and lost consciousness immediately. He did not suffer"

"Well, at least that's something," said Vanessa. "I don't think that Andrew wants to be dead now"

James stood silent in agreement and repeated "I don't think that Andrew wants to be dead now."

"Somehow that makes it more tragic. He was strong, he was alive, he was so alive, he could move and talk and now he can't. Now all he can do is decompose and he isn't even in control of that" said Vanessa.

"Don't think about decomposition Vanessa, it doesn't help"

"Gosh, you're right. Andrew wouldn't want that, I'm so weird, to be thinking about that at a time like this"

"Do you want the whiskey now?" asked James.

"No, I want to be with people I love and people who knew Andrew. Do you know where Sarah stays? I don't know how I will tell her. Maybe she will hear from somebody else first"

"You're going to be okay James? This is not the time to be alone." Continued Vanessa "Maybe you join us"

"I'll be fine. I only meet Sarah once"

"That's only two times less than Andrew had" said Vanessa. "Keep safe James."

James looked at his phone. It was Alicia calling. James knew that if he just let it ring, she would eventually come knocking on his door so he might as well answer it.

"I was listening to the radio, is it true, is it true what I heard about Andrew?"

"Yes, it's true, the ambulance was here. You should have seen Vanessa, she found him, and you can imagine. It happened only a block away from the studio. "

"That's awful" said Alicia softly "I can't imagine what it must be like for her."

"She was shaking" said James "She had to stay at the studio for a long time after it happened. She had to speak to the police and was always having to repeat the story of what she saw. Now even his family is here. They want to be taken to the place where it happened."

The phone was silent, and nobody said anything for what must have been at least a minute.

"Do you have a plan?" said Alicia "You hadn't finished filming the series so there must be a lot more that needs to be filmed."

"Production is falling behind and we are not even half way through filming. We only have three episodes in reserve"

"Will you hunt for a replacement for Phoenix or is the story going to incorporate his death?" asked Alicia hesitantly. "How were the other men that you interviewed for Phoenix's role. Were any of them any good? Do you remember?

James drummed his forehead. "I don't know. It's hard to think of any of those men being Phoenix now that I have gotten used to Andrew." Said James slowly "Somehow I don't think the audience will accept a replacement for him either"

"They'll understand. It's not like the news has been hidden from them." Said Alicia as a knowledgeable member of the public.

"This is not a bloody soap opera" James cried out irritably and then he smashed the phone. He felt sick at the thought of death, but now was the time to be creative and after all that was his job was about, thinking of things that other people couldn't imagine and then making them real to them.

He knew that he was supposed to be feeling sad right now but all he could of think of how he knew he should be sad. The Lesser Lord George loomed in his thoughts as a spectre of death. The Lesser Lord George could be defeated but death couldn't, not at least as far as he could tell. There never seemed to be a good time to die, you either die too early or too late.

He looked at all the scripts that lay all over the table and he thought about how Phoenix had a future planned out for him, it had been plotted out with themes and subplots and jokes already written out for him. Phoenix had a purpose, there was a plan for Phoenix's life and yet now it would all have to be re-imagined. The path had been obliterated and it would need to be replaced. He couldn't change the script too much because costume had been ordered and scenes had been set, but it needed to be changed.

Then there was the guilt, he sighed, in a way he felt grateful for Andrew's death. The man seemed to stand in direct opposition to all he believed about the good life and then he had the gall to go on about how great his life was. He was also all that James would never live up to. He didn't want Andrew's way of life and yet he felt like a failure for not having it.

Still he didn't wish death upon Andrew, he had only wished that Andrew would openly admit that his way of life did not bring happiness but James wasn't sure – maybe he had wished death and now Andrew was dead.