In the Wee Small Hours

Reviewed by Claudine

Found this charming book on the NLB shelves.
I was first drawn to it by its cover, as a mother, in particular, to the boy with the pointy sword and his mother trailing after him. This book is about Annie Baker and her delightful life in the country and her job as a producer for advertisements in town.

The lines in the book which are mostly conversational sparkles with wit and humour and the story sails along taking you past familiar family conversations, sticky work situations, bonding sessions with girlfriends, dashes of romance and of course juggling the insane rush of daily routines. For those who have preschoolers who ask for the sky, the conversations or what Annie terms as ‘random chat sessions’ with her 6 year old son, Charlie, will have you chuckling.

Her comic capers at work are absolutely hilarious. You are taken behind the scenes of the world of advertisement productions where men are taped to windmills and spun around to promote wallpaper paste and where geography and weather know no limit. Annie has to arrange for the setups and make missions impossible possible. The next time you watch an advertisement, especially one shot outdoors in somewhat treacherous conditions, you might sit up and appreciate it a little better.

You fall in love not only with Annie, but also with the cast of colourful characters whom you grow attached to as the story progresses. In fact, when tragedy strikes towards the end, I shed tear a tear or two. It's one book I think I would like to keep on my shelf for a re-read. Erm. From the bookshop, of course.

Here’s an excerpt from the book during the filming of a scene involving some rather unfortunate ducks. (Disclaimer : I strongly believe no ducks were harmed in the writing of this scene.)

It’s the day of the duckpond shoot, so we’re in Wiltshire at five in the morning stumbling round the dark and trying not to fall in the sodding pond after spending most of yesterday in the studio getting the pack shots done. It’s freezing and once the dawn does appear we’ll only have a few minutes to get the shots we want, or we’ll have to come back tomorrow. So it’s all getting rather tense. We’ve hired a flock of tame ducks to sit in the middle of the pond, but so far they’re not having it and are sitting huddled under the trees sulking. The animal’s trainers starting to panic and so am I.
And then Barney has a brilliant idea.
‘Tell him to tie some string to their legs and tie bricks on the other end, and then he can plant them in the middle of the pond where we need them.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Just go and tell him.’
‘Barney, I think I can safely say that’s one of the daftest ideas you’ve ever had.’
‘How else are you planning to get the f******* to stay where we want them then?’
I go over and talk to the trainer. And surprisingly he thinks it might be worth a try and starts measuring the depth of the pond with a stick. Dear god. I’m surrounded by nutters.
Half the crew hunt for bits of old brick and big stones and after a great deal of quacking and flapping the ducks are regrouped in the middle of the pond, and the trainer rows back in his inflatable boat to check they’re in the right position.
Barney’s delighted.
‘Perfect.’
The trainer looks very relieved.
‘They’ll settle down in a minute or two.’
And they do. Just as the light starts to change. And we’ve just got the first shot when I notice that the ducks seem to be shrinking.
The cameraman notices too.
‘Guv, aren’t they getting a bit low in the water?’
‘What?’
‘The ducks.’
‘What about the f******* ducks?’
Barney’s been concentrating on making sure the actor’s in the shot as he walks past the pond, playing farmer on his way to his fields, to grow the perfect frozen peas: ‘We get up early to make sure you don’t have to.’
‘I think they are sinking. That one in the middle is nearly up to its beak.’
‘Jesus Christ.’
The trainer’s noticed it too. ‘Stop. Stop. They’re sinking. You’re drowning my ducks.’ He’s running towards the boat.
‘Oh great. What’s he doing now?’ Barney turns to me, looking furious.
‘He’s rescuing his ducks, Barney. Before someone calls RSPCA.’
‘Just give me another minute.’
The duck man’s in the boat now, and the ducks are getting even lower. The stones must be sinking in the mud or something. Christ. I wonder if you can do mouth to mouth on a duck. Because I’ve got a horrible feeling we’re going to find out in a minute.

For more information on the book, check out the following link :
Fantastic Fiction