“Nope. I love the way you say ‘oot’ and ‘aboot’. You sound kind of Scottish, it’s funny.”
Everyone chuckled.
“Well, we are all very happy you have moved here. Newcastle’s loss is Calgary’s gain,” exclaimed Pamela, smiling alongside a very cheery Boleyn.
“Thanks,” I answered bashfully.
“So, Pamela, what’s up with the Tudor Royal names? I love it, but I have never come across it before,”
“I studied History at University and that was my favourite period, everything about it really. So when I had Henry I knew what I would call him. Tudor was a little more difficult. I didn’t like Edward, and my friend came up with the idea of using Tudor as a forename and it just stuck. Anne Boleyn was my favourite of the wives. It probably seems silly to you being from England, eh?” she asked, seemingly embarrassed.
“Not at all! It’s my favourite part of our history too, so I’m in love with the names, it’s super inventive! Plus, Tudor here didn’t have to create a show name, he was already equipped with one!” I teased and nudged his arm.
He looked up and sort of smiled at me... I think, it was either that or wind.
Wow, the icy exterior is melting.
After telling the table about my family and the ins and outs of teaching and why I chose that vocation, I decided to turn the tables on a certain socially-challenged superstar. Let’s just say that I was more than a little intrigued by the guy.
“So, acting?” I declared in Tudor’s direction.
“Yeah. Acting,” was the enlightening response.
Undeterred, I pushed further. “How did all that happen?”
Tudor shrugged dismissively. “I kinda fell into it, but I love what I do and seem to be doing alright.”
You definitely got the vibe that he didn’t like to talk about his stardom too much. A modest actor too? He was full of surprises.
"Alright? You must be doing better than that for me to know your name. I'm not into action films but even I recognised you."
He just shrugged and blushed.
Henry put his elbows on the table and tilted his head, studying me. "You mean you haven't seen one of his films? You must be the only person left on the planet who hasn’t."
I shook my head. "Nope, action’s not my thing." I turned to Tudor. "I only hear good things though."
He nodded once, embarrassed as his mother gushed, "Oh he is, he's so talented. His film has broken lots of records. We’re all so proud."
Tudor was now beaming red. I felt I should relieve him from the torture.
“So if you have just moved here, where do you all come from?” I noticed Boleyn flinch, which seemed a bit peculiar.
“Originally Victoria, BC, then Vancouver but we like here better. This is home now,” declared Pamela, hugging Boleyn close. "Tate is from LA, though."
Feeling a little awkward at the reaction to what I deemed an innocent question, I carried on quizzing Tudor.
“Do you live in La-La land then too? Are you just visiting? You can't live in Calgary and be an actor surely? Are you just taking a break from escorting Victoria’s Secret models to dine on lettuce leaves and strutting their angel-winged stuff at the glitzy premieres as your token arm candy?”
I gathered I had asked the wrong question by the total silence and the heads bowed down to the table.
Whoops! Foot in mouth once again. I just couldn’t figure out why.
After a few moments, Tudor fixed his gaze on me. “No, I live near the family, just under the radar from the fame gig. No-one really knows I'm here. I wanted to live somewhere where people didn’t really care about celebrity. No annoying photographers, you know?”
“Yeah. I can’t imagine how you cope with being followed around all the time. I’d hate it. I bet by the size of you, you hardly go unnoticed very often.” Tudor seemed slightly deflated by what I’d said and just nodded. I was honestly digging my own grave. I couldn’t say anything right.
“It’s bad when they write untrue things about you, but it comes with the job, I guess. In Calgary though, I can go pretty unnoticed, and these lot have an alias so people don’t click on,” he explained.
“Ah. Jones. I wondered what that was about.”
“It’s just easier, especially for Boleyn at school, you know?” professed Pamela. She shifted on her seat nervously, “I don’t mean to sound out of line when I say this, but can I ask that you keep all of this to yourself? Boleyn finds it difficult dealing with Tudor’s fame at school. And we have a confidentiality agreement with the principal about anonymity,” she informed me, clearly embarrassed.
“It’s a given. I promise,” I assured them all.
There was a bit of awkward tension around the table, and so the best option seemed to navigate the conversation to Tate.
“So Tate, what’s your deal?” I smiled at him, eager to find out more about the incredibly reserved cutie. He was almost a mute.
“I’m Tudor’s assistant. Where he goes, I go. It’s my blessing and my curse,” he playfully nudged Tudor, earning a wink.
“He’s a godsend. I am not organised at all, and Tate takes care of everything. I wouldn't function without him,” Tudor responded, jabbing Tate on the arm.
Tate blushed. I couldn't imagine being that shy.
It was at that precise moment that everyone’s favourite fairy flew in. “Here you are! I wondered where you’d disappeared to. You ready to go par-tay, pork chops?”
I could see the confusion on the faces of the North clan at the ‘pork chops’ comment, but thankfully they let it slide.
Getting up and standing next to Tink, I started the introductions. “John this is-”
“John? Psht, it's Tink and you know it. What’s come over you?” he hissed glaring at me as though I had lost my mind.
Through gritted teeth I started again. “Fine! Tink this is Pamela, Boleyn, Samantha, Henry, Tate and Tudor. Everybody this is Tink, my best friend, roommate and fellow Geordie,” I gestured in his direction.
Henry began laughing, and Samantha hit his shoulder to shut him up.
I raised a questioning eyebrow. “What?”
Henry pointed along the table. “Tash, Tink, Tate and Tudor. All T’s – thank God you don’t all hang out, it’d be a total nightmare remembering all your names.”