Whitby Vampyrrhic by Simon Clark

breakfast. He marched through the doorway, sweeping off his broad-brimmed hat as he did so. The black eyepatch still covered the wounded eye. Today, enthusiasm roared through him, adding a decibel or so to his Scottish accent.
    Beth found herself smelling the air for the tell-tale whiff of gin, a spirit that might account for his grandiose manner.
    â€˜Any sign of the hotel staff?’ he boomed. ‘I’ve left my luggage in the doorway.’
    â€˜Best bring it in yourself,’ Beth told him. ‘There’s only a staff of one, and I think the lady is with her brother.’
    â€˜Any chance of a cup of tea? I’d swear all those hills and moors have been piled up round Whitby to keep outsiders from ever getting here. It took the trucks over an hour to cover ten miles.’
    Beth poured him the tea. ‘So you’ve arrived with your battalion of film-makers? Add your own sugar, Alec.’
    â€˜Isn’t it exciting?’ Sally scrunched her shoulders. ‘But how on earth are you going to get those trucks full of cameras and lights along this little street? You can hardly get a wheelbarrow down it.’
    â€˜Thank Providence we did our research. The crew are staying in a guest house in the wonderfully named Boghall. There’s a secure yard for the vehicles, too. We can’t have those expensive cameras vanishing into the hills.’ Swishing his hat against his thigh to remove drops of moisture, he kicked a chair away from the table and sat down. ‘Ye Gods. We had to sleep in the trucks at Malton last night. The police wouldn’t let us cross the damn moor at night. I’m whacked.’ He took an interest in the breakfast plates. ‘Is that toast going spare?’
    Sally beamed. ‘Help yourself. There’s the butter. I’m sure I can find eggs in the kitchen if you’d like—’
    â€˜Don’t go usurping Eleanor’s role, Sally.’ Beth smiled as she spoke firmly. ‘I’m sure she won’t allow our esteemed film director to starve.’
    He layered butter on the toast. ‘You’ve both settled in?’ He surged on without waiting for a reply. ‘Today’s Tuesday, isn’t it? Good. The cast will arrive a week today by train. They’re lodging here with us. Any luck in finding those shooting locations?’
    â€˜Hardly. We only arrived here last night,’ Beth told him.
    â€˜All locations have to be fixed by Thursday at the latest. By then, I’ll be having the cameraman shoot some establishing shots of the town. Mainly the picturesque stuff – harbour, churches, quaint taverns, cute bairns playing hopscotch. Any more tea? My throat’s become a veritable Sahara.’
    â€˜Don’t worry, Alec.’ Beth’s voice hardened. ‘It’s all in hand.’
    Sally added, ‘Eleanor’s kindly agreed to give us a tour of Whitby this morning. She knows some lovely places to film.’
    â€˜I didn’t know Eleanor was on the payroll.’
    â€˜She owns the hotel.’ Beth’s irritation grew. Alec Reed had become bombastic again. She sniffed for gin. ‘She’s also very nice and very helpful.’
    â€˜Good. Because I need her to provide an office. I want access to a phone and a typewriter. The Ministry require a major change to the script. It seems our film of ordinary men and women being the heroic embodiment of the British bulldog spirit has become
too
ordinary for them. They want me to introduce a larger-than-life hero: a lifeboat man, who has to brave a storm in order to rescue passengers from a torpedoed ship. It will add five days to the shooting schedule. Thank goodness, the government are funding the overrun. Is that the last of the sugar?’ He emptied the remaining grains from the sugar pot into his cup.
    â€˜Sugar’s rarer than pearls, remember? Along with just about everything else.’ Beth added, ‘You need to hand your ration