* * *
Hollywood was stunned by Joan’s tragic death. No-one could understand why her sports car had mysteriously plunged over the cliff. Although suicide rumours circulated for a while, no-one really believed that an actress who loved life as much as Joan would kill herself.
The intense fire had made identification of the corpse impossible. A few of the more sensational tabloids even ran a line that it wasn’t Joan who’d died in the crash, but some poor unsuspecting substitute. But if people believed that rubbish, they’d have had to believe the other tabloid 'exclusive’ – that Elvis was alive and had been snatched by aliens.
Eventually, the story became as dead as poor Joan and the gossip columnists turned their eye to the sudden appearance of youthful newcomer Jenny Prentice.
Only months after her aunt’s demise, the unknown actress had taken Tinsel Town by storm. ‘An overnight star’, Variety wrote, ‘a screen sensation’.
Her performance as the female lead in Spielberg’s lost city movie was breath-taking.
‘She takes a clichéd, uninspired role and makes it come alive’, the Los Angeles Post gushed. ‘Miss Prentice brings a maturity of performance, quite stunning for a newcomer’.
Wary of the hype, Jenny was cautious, shrugging modestly at the interviewers.
“I’m very flattered, of course, though it was hardly Shakespeare. I’d like to prove what I can really do when I get a more demanding role.”
They all nodded. No-one doubted that Jenny was going to be a huge name; as big as Joan had been – maybe even bigger. She had it all: talent, style, poise, plus dazzling emerald eyes, soft, shiny auburn hair and the sexiest way of laughing.
“People are already calling you the next Queen of Hollywood,” one tabloid reporter told her. “That’s a scary prospect for an actress just making her debut. Can you promise us that you’re not just a one-hit wonder?”
Jenny turned on a smile that was disarmingly familiar. “Oh, I think so. Haven’t you heard, I made a pact with the devil. He gets my soul, I get the Oscars.”
The reporters chuckled dutifully.
“Seriously, though. There are so many wonderful parts to play that I intend to be around for a very long time.” Jenny fingered the card in her pocket. “A very long time, indeed.”
Crowning Glory
Sarah froze, terrified. The footsteps behind her stopped. In the uneasy silence she imagined she heard breathing – heavy male breathing.
Peering into the gloom of the alley, she anxiously scanned the darkness for a face. Was someone there? Was someone following her? She couldn’t be sure, but the hairs on her neck were taut, standing rigid.
Swallowing hard, she forced herself not to panic. The only way she was going to get out of this was by keeping her nerve and thinking clearly.
The footsteps had started not long after she’d left the sports hall. She hadn’t thought much about it then, but when she’d cut through the underpass she’d noticed the steady rat-tat-tat beat was still there. It had followed her for the last ten minutes.
“Is there anyone there?” she called out. “I know there's someone there. Show yourself.”
Silence. Nothing but the faint sound of breathing, slow, regular and even.
She cursed herself for turning down the offers of lifts. She’d been too hyped up, too excited after the competition and had felt she needed the walk to give her time to wind down. Now she wished she’d let one of the others at the karate club drive her to her door. It would have been so easy, so safe.
Listening intently, Sarah began to edge down the lane again. For a second there was nothing, then the following footfalls took up their menacing tattoo. It sounded like he was about 50 yards behind her.
Quickening her pace, she moved her heavy hold-all over to the other shoulder. If she had to make a run for it, Sarah knew it would slow her down but its contents were too valuable to abandon. She’d worked too hard, sweated too many hours, gone through too much pain simply to lose it all.
Up ahead she could see the blazing neon sign of a Chinese takeaway. If I can just get there, I’ll be safe, she told herself. No-one will try anything with witnesses around.
For a moment her spirits lifted. It was going to be okay. She was going to be safe, but then the steps quickened. Whoever it was behind her had spotted the takeaway sign and determined she wouldn’t reach it. He was running! He was going to attack her!
For an instant Sarah thought about bolting, but a sudden flush of anger surged through her. Why should she run? Why should she be afraid? She hadn’t done anything wrong.
She dropped the bag and spun round. Taking up a classic defence stance she faced her attacker. She trembled, frightened but excited too. Now it was time to find out if all those years of karate training had been worth it.
The man’s shape burst out of the darkness and Sarah got a fleeting glimpse of surprise in his eyes. He hadn’t expected her to stand her ground.
Roaring, he charged at her. She judged the rapidly diminishing distance between them and made her move. She just hoped it was the right one. She knew her life depended on it.
An Ugly Way To Go - and other Quintessentially Quirky Tales Page 7