I’d had to pass on an earlier lunch break, the clinic was just far too busy on Saturday. Three test rooms running simultaneously, one staff member going home ill just after 9:30am and another taking lieu time back meant there wasn’t much room for breathing for the rest of us.
When my time arrived I walked through Carlisle City Centre and noticed the start of the city pageant was in full swing. 8ft high puppets walked in front of the tourist information office.
Outside the French cafe at the top of Fisher street walked a familiar looking person. I had to look for a few seconds to avoid the chance of leaping in and it not being who I thought it was. Sure enough it was indeed Kathleen from Mostly Ghostly, quickly followed by John. They were in need of a Carlisle lunch spot that didn’t need a second mortgage for a panini. Despite the fact I was born in Dumfries I’m fairly clueless getting round the place as I’ve never lived there. My need to detailed directions when I went to meet Kathleen and John in the town a couple of months back was testament to this. Carlisle is a different matter however.
We walked to the Old Engine House, a place my Dad and I had discovered one day before going to the cinema. It was the ideal place with generous portions and quiet enough to still hold conversation. We talked of many things including Metallica, my love for pro wrestling and Order For Burning.
I was pleased to inform them progress was slow but steady. It’s the school summer holidays in Scotland which has meant my son is home a fair bit wanting amused. Scriptwriting has therefore fallen behind. When I do get the chance however I am getting small chunks done.
Kathleen has been emailed the script so far. It’s not often I’ll let anybody else read first draft. They’re like lumps of clay, soft and formless. This is different in that Mostly Ghostly provided the spark of ignition for the whole idea so it’s only fair they have input even at this early stage.
My only paranoia is the thought of them reading it and thinking that this joker has taken this event they feel passionately about and turned it Hollywood. I get concerned this first draft, with all the errors and factual inaccuracy, turns them away. They say they understand this draft won’t be the finished article and I believe them fully. This does not stop the nerves jangling though.
I realise the time, five minutes until I’m back on the dispensing floor, so we bid our farewells until another day. We walk past the puppets glaring down and I feel glad that we’re busy as this chance lunchtime meeting would never had come about otherwise.
In the coming days I aim to write more. I’m approaching the join between acts one and two now, the part I anticipated to be difficult. Once past this section another ghostly meeting in Dumfries may be in order.