Not Dead Yet

everyone else in,’ Jordan said.
    ‘He’s fine,’ Brooker said. ‘I just spoke to him. He’s gonna be a pussycat tonight.’
    ‘He’s just leaving his trailer now,’ one of the Assistant Directors announced.
    Wheeler listened to the words. Then very carefully, holding his breath, he tipped the entire contents of the San Pellegrino bottle on to the towel which he had wound around the single aluminium support shaft for the chandelier.
    Instantly a wisp of smoke rose from the towel as it began to discolour into brown and grey blotches. Some of the acid ran further down the shaft. He continued to hold his breath, partly to avoid inhaling any of the fumes the acid released, and partly out of terror that it might drip down on to the table, way below, and get noticed.
    More curls of smoke were rising. He moved down several slats, until he was below the level of the acid, then checked his watch. 7.04 p.m. If his calculations were right, at around 7.35 p.m. the acid would have eaten through enough of the shaft for the chandelier to plunge.
    Through the monitor he heard the conversation between Larry Brooker and Jack Jordan continuing.
    ‘I’m telling you, darling boy, I cannot possibly shoot tonight if he’s wrecked.’
    ‘He’s fine, Jesus, I just spoke with him!’
    ‘You said that he was fine last night. He couldn’t remember his lines for more than ten seconds. You know who this is going to reflect on? I don’t work this way, Larry. I just can’t connect with him. Do you understand?’
    ‘He’ll be fine. Good as gold.’
    ‘He was complaining to me yesterday that Gaia was chewing raw garlic before their kissing scene. I think I should go and talk to him off set, before everyone else arrives.’
    Shit, shit, shit , Wheeler thought. Just get the jerk on set. And everyone else!
    He watched Jordan walk out of the room. One of the Assistant Directors said into his microphone, ‘Hold all cast.’
    No! Wheeler urged, silently. Bring them on, bring them on, get them into position!
    Suddenly he saw a small boy, with mussed-up brown hair, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, walk into the room, duck under the ropes and walk towards the table. Gaia’s little brat, he recognized from earlier.
    Fuck off kid! Get out of here! Clear off, you little bastard!
    The boy wandered, curious, around the table. He peered, nosily, at the hams, chickens, haunches of venison, suckling pig, silver flagons of ales and wines, and bowls of fruits. Then he pulled up a chair at the table, sat down, and stared around him, with a regal air, as if imagining himself back in time.
    Clear off, kid!
    He looked just like his own son.
    Suddenly there was a strange sound directly above him. A sharp hissing. He looked up, and to his shock, the entire interior of the dome above him had disappeared in a swirling mist of acrid smoke. He could feel it burning his lungs, parching his mouth.
    Sudden panic gripped him.
    There was a piercing, creaking sound.
    He looked down for an instant, and the chandelier was trembling.
    No, no, no .
    His careful calculations had come out at thirty minutes. What had he got wrong?
    It was shaking even more now, and the creaking was getting worse.
    The damned boy was still sitting there, lifting a silver goblet as if pretending to drink from it.
    He coughed, the acid fumes burning his eyes and searing his throat. Half blinded, tears were streaming from his eyes. He coughed again, a long, deep, choking, hacking cough. Get lost, kid! Scram!
    His goddamn calculations were wrong. Had he screwed up on the acid strength? The calculations of the diameter of the aluminium?
    There was a terrible screech of stressed metal, right below him. He looked down and to his horror could see the whole chandelier had moved, several inches, and was now off-kilter.
    The shaft was about to snap.
    The whole chandelier, as he had planned, was about to fall. But on to Roan Lafayette.
    No. ‘Kid!’ he yelled. ‘Get away! Get away! GET AWAY!’ But no one could hear him from up here.
    The boy continued to play happily with his goblet.
    Of course he could not hear him from up here.
    There was another piercing metallic shriek.
    Through his observation hole, he could see the chandelier was swaying now. Any moment it would plunge down. No one had noticed. It was going to kill the kid and that was never his intention.
    Oh shit, shit, shit, shit.
    This was screwing up all his plans. He launched himself down the rest of the wooden slats, knocking over and