“Newcastle? Right. So, what brings you to Calgary?”

“Well Ti-, err John, my roommate and best friend, and I, decided we needed a change, you know, a chance to travel. We kind of randomly just picked somewhere to live, and Calgary it was,” I explained, purposely leaving out the cheating ex, Jane Austen quote, drunken decision-making and the role Cool Runnings played in the story.

“Wow, just like that?” remarked Samantha. “I could never do anything so drastic. I am from Winnipeg, and Calgary is about as far as I’m willing to go. My mom would kill me if I went too far from home.”

“Yeah the ‘rents were a bit upset, but in the end they supported it. I just have to Skype, email and text pretty much every day,” I joked.

“So, no-one special here or back home?” she enquired.

“Not any more. Ex-boyfriend in England is now involved with someone else, so I’m free and single and ready to mingle with the best Calgary has to offer,” I winked.

“What do you think of the Canadians, then?” asked Henry.

“Amazing. You lot are so nice. Well, nearly all of you,” I tipped my head sideways and pointed my thumb at Tudor, who winced and looked down at the table. Henry, on the other hand, seemed tickled by my dig.

“Well, most of us are. Tudor's the exception – all broody and tortured. Just ignore him, we do,” he waggled his eyebrows whilst Tudor scowled at him moodily.

Henry continued, “What about the accent though, no trouble there?”

“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.