by Wynne May
‘Don’t worry. You’ll feel relaxed when you meet everybody. There’s no need to worry. We’ll be seeing you, then - and don’t forget to wear the bikini beneath the slacks and colourful jersey.’ He rang off before she could answer and Michelle stood looking at the receiver before putting it down. Somehow she had a feeling that Glen Hayes had scored a triumph over her - not only over her but over Lyle Cunningham - and the feeling held little warmth.
Suddenly she was sorry she had become involved and decided to dial the chalets and cancel the whole thing, when, afraid of appearing a fool, she closed the door to the salon and went to her room to change.
A Land-Rover was waiting on her when she got downstairs. ‘So you’re going?’ Liza called out.
‘Yes.’ Michelle turned. ‘I am, Liza.’
‘To pose in the snow?’
‘Yes.’
‘In a bikini?’
‘I don’t really know yet.’
‘But you’ve committed yourself, haven’t you? Glen just told me. He was in here a moment ago.’
‘Yes, I suppose I have committed myself.’ Michelle found herself wishing that she could confide in the other girl that she was already regretting her impetuous decision.
She went out to the Land-Rover and Glen Hayes made the introductions. ‘The others have gone on ahead,’ he said, ‘but meet Vanessa and Joe. Jump in, Michelle.’
Michelle got into the back of the vehicle and Glen joined her. ‘I’ll bet this is the first time you’ve been in a land-Rover,’ he said, laughing at her.
‘Yes. It was one of the things which prompted me to accept, actually.’
She shivered a little in the cold.
‘What were the other things?’ he asked, regarding her with the assessing attitude with which she knew he must regard most girls.
‘I was keen to see the film people at work and to go out to where the really big mountains start. I’m trying to get up enough courage to go up the Pass one day.’
‘After today,’ he mocked, ‘you’ll go up anything.’
That sounds terrible,’ she answered. The Land-Rover skidded in thick mud and she caught her breath.
‘We’re driving up to a very spectacular spot,’ Glen told her, ‘where we’ll park the vehicles and walk - not a great distance, just enough to get this simply stupendous back-drop for the film. We’re going to drink a whole lot of champagne - or anything else you like, actually, except for the film - and eat a super lunch. Everything is to be filmed.’
‘Don’t forget to tell her about the snowball fights,’ Vanessa called out from the front of the Land-Rover and above the noise.
‘All in good time!’ Glen shouted back.
The journey out to the film set was an ever-changing combination of hanging over space and avoiding huge walls of boulders directly in front of the Land-Rover. The vehicle skidded sickeningly at times and Michelle found herself hanging on to her breath. Often she closed her eyes and when she opened them again she laughed breathlessly. Glen Hayes put an arm about her. ‘Don’t look,’ he teased, ‘if it scares you.’
The edge of the road, which appeared to be in a shocking condition, slid beneath the grey body of the Land-Rover. In front, Vanessa with the flying bright red hair was doing a lot of laughing.
Three other Land-Rovers were already parked in a kind of parking area which had been hacked out on the side of a steep track. A colourful scene was created by bright jerseys and ski-hats and various forms of equipment.
Nobody took the slightest notice of names, and then, leaving the Land-Rovers parked in the area, they began the walk to the site which, as Glen Hayes had informed Michelle, was not a long one with very little climbing to do.
‘I can see why they chose this particular site,’ she said to him as they stood watching the unfolding and setting up of three long trestles which were then covered by heavy red linen cloths. Foliage-green place-mats went on top of the cloths and cut glasses glinted in the sun which had no strength in it but nevertheless had the power to sharpen the senses, not to mention the appetite. The sunlight defined everything it came in contact with - the rim of a glass, a strand of hair which had strayed from beneath a colourful ski-cap, the intricate patterns of Fair Isle jerseys, the green, round shape of wine bottles and tall champagne bottles, topped with white and silver foil.
Vanessa, the girl with the bright red hair, had tied a long purple scarf about her head and the ends flapped against her cheeks.
The result was nothing short of spectacular.
Lunch, which was filmed, was a hilarious affair, with the cameraman sitting down later. Whoever had been responsible for the catering, Michelle thought, nibbling at a chicken bone, needed a medal.
‘Who is responsible for the catering?’ she asked Glen. ‘The food is out of this world.’
‘See that couple over there?’ He placed a careless arm about her shoulder and rubbed his cheek against hers. ‘That thick-set fellow and the plump woman with the red topcoat? Well, they’re Italians. I’ll tell you about them one day. In any case, you’ll be hearing about them from other people, in the near future.’
The sun was beautifying and angling everything it touched now. The champagne was going to Michelle’s head and she put it down to the thinness of the snow-laced mountain air.
A snowball fight was filmed after lunch with close-ups of people drinking more champagne and laughing a lot, then it was time for the bikini scene - which really should have been at the beginning, Michelle thought, shivering at the thought, when the sun might have been just that little bit stronger. The lighting, however, was superb for photography.
Vanessa frolicked in the snow first, the cold and the wind taking the breath from her. The purple scarf had been removed and her bright red hair cascaded about her shoulders, except when she turned into the wind and it was swept back from her beautiful face. ‘I know you’d never think so,’ she called out, laughing and shivering in her purple bikini, ‘but I love clothes. I have so many clothes I could open a dress shop.’
‘Okay,’ one of the cameramen called out, ‘pipe down, Vanessa. You’re on set.’
Eventually it was time to focus the cameras on Michelle. Slim, and already bronzed by the South African sun, she made a stunning picture in her black bikini which she had decided to wear because she knew that, like the Bushmen paintings, it would stand out in sharp contrast to the snow.
Both girls had been clued up as to what would take place and Michelle knew that two handsome heroes were going to appear from nowhere bringing with them two fabulous fur coats. These coats would be draped about the slim, shivering shoulders of the girls, who would then be presented by the heroes with glasses of bubbling champagne in glittering goblets.
It was impossible to say just when Lyle Cunningham and Liza Monatti had come on the scene. Michelle knew that her breath had caught in the back of her throat as she spotted them at the very moment when the fur coat was being slipped over her shoulders by a strange and dashing young man. When the blur had passed she went on smiling in the direction of the cameras and wishing that the earth would open up and swallow her from sight.
‘Okay, cut!’
Thankfully, she knew that shooting was over, then bit her lip as Glen Hayes came up to her. ‘Here,’ he was saying, ‘put your arms into the sleeves of this thing and get warm.’ Her teeth were chattering, possibly from nerves, she thought, and she slid her arms into the sleeves of the fur coat. ‘I must go along to the tent and change,’ she told him.
‘Keep it on for a while.’ Glen’s face was close to her own. ‘Let me pour you a brandy.’
‘Oh, no!’ Michelle laughed suddenly. ‘Not a brandy. I feel quite light-headed as it is. Didn’t I hear someone mention coffee?’
‘Coffee, then,’ said Glen, ‘laced with brandy - or rum, if you like.’
‘Laced with milk,’ she answered.
It was quite obvious, she was thinking even as she was’ talking to Glen, that Liza had asked Lyle Cunningham to drive her
out to the film set, because, out of the corner of her eye, she had watched Liza introducing Lyle around.
On her way to the small tent which had been erected for the purpose of changing, Michelle caught Liza’s dark eyes with her own. Liza’s eyes were cool with amusement, icy with spite.
It was practically dark when Glen Hayes dropped Michelle off at the hotel in his car. ‘You were super,’ he said. ‘Tell me, why wouldn’t you stay at the chalets? There’s going to be a whale of a party. Actually, we’re all going out to the farm. That’s where our Italian couple hang out, by the way.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she answered with an attempt at lightness, ‘but it was impossible. Another time, perhaps.’
‘When will I see you again?’ he asked. She knew that he had been drinking steadily all afternoon and had been worried at the thought that he was to drive her back to the hotel.
‘I just don’t know, at this stage. Thank you for asking me today, though. I thoroughly enjoyed it. The lunch was superb.’ Her voice was sedate, her day shattered. She had been perfectly aware of Lyle’s eyes, summing her up as she shivered in her bikini beneath the fur coat.
As she changed for dinner Michelle felt utterly drained. What should have been a day of fun had turned into a disaster for her, more so as Lyle Cunningham, she discovered later, was apparently spending the night at the hotel.
As she came face to face with him in the lounge he said, ‘I’m pleased to see you’re not suffering from a chill after being out in the snow in your bikini.’ His eyes went slowly over her. ‘Anyway, you appear to be suitably clad this evening.’ Michelle found herself shivering even though she was wearing an off-white, light wool floor-length gown with long sleeves. Shocked by his sarcastic tone, she nevertheless recovered quickly.
‘I was asked by the Utah Film Company to take part in their film. I went for the experience, mainly, and because …’
‘I didn’t know you knew any of the Utah people,’ he cut in.
Meeting him head on she said, ‘I didn’t. Glen Hayes got in touch with me.’
‘I see.’ He shrugged. ‘And I guess one thing led to another? Well, Glen Hayes always did have a mind for detail - and so you said yes?’
‘Yes, I did. I spoke to your father about going, though.’ She was eager to defend herself. ‘Anyway, it was only for fun.’
‘You must be quite ravenous, after all that - fun. Join me at my table.
I see you’re on your way into the dining-room. That is, unless you’ve arranged to meet someone?’
‘I hadn’t arranged to meet anyone,’ she replied coolly, stung by his remark. The thought of eating at his table did nothing to steady her.
‘Well,’ he took her arm, ‘come along, then.’
Michelle walked ahead of him while a feeling of annoyed frustration surged over her. When they were seated at his table and had given their respective orders she said, ‘I’d like to know - are you annoyed, with me because I happen to have taken part in this kingsize film advertisement, or is it merely because Glen Hayes asked me to? Have I broken some kind of - of etiquette - some unwritten hotel rule that I know nothing about? I mean, I was paid for my services - for my part in the film.’
‘You’re free to please yourself what you do in your free time. I must admit, though, that I was more than just a little surprised to see you skylarking there in your bikini. Anyway, your ability to pose in the semi-nude will impress a lot of people, I’m sure.’ She did not miss the sarcasm in his voice. ‘You certainly looked tantalizingly beautiful.’
Why then did he condemn her with those cool blue-green eyes, she asked herself, when only the night before they had held a very different expression? ‘It was obvious,’ he was saying, ‘that you were enjoying yourself.’
Giving him a level searching look, she said, ‘Somehow I seem to be missing the point. What do you mean by that?’
His eyes flickered over her with a kind of contemptuous amusement, before going to the immense leather-bound wine list. ‘What did you think I meant, Michelle?’
After a moment she said, ‘Liza didn’t mention that she wanted to go.
If she had, I would have stayed behind and helped at the desk. Taking part in the film wasn’t all that important to me.’
‘Things were very quiet here,’ he said. ‘Liza asked me to drive her out to see the filming - or what was left of it. I was surprised to see you there and then, later, with Glen Hayes. I had no idea you’d become so friendly with him.’
‘Hadn’t you?’ she found herself saying in a tight little voice. ‘Well, now you know.’ What she was feeling for Liza Monatti, right now, was something like a tumultuous and rebellious tide. Liza had done this on purpose.
Relaxing her grip on her napkin and placing it on the table, she said,
‘I find I’m not very hungry. Will you excuse me?’
Lyle stood up, smiling easily, but there was an angry look in his eyes.
‘Well, you had a big lunch, after all, so it’s not really surprising, is it?’
As she picked her way amongst the tables on her way to the foyer Michelle felt the urge to seek out Cunningham Senior and hand in her resignation there and then, but she knew that her position here was nothing short of a stroke of luck. Not only was she near to Laney and Pete, but she was earning good money and, quite apart from anything, she enjoyed her work and living in such spectacular beauty.
In her room she pulled the long zip and let her gown slip to the floor.
Immediately she found herself shivering and went straight into her bathroom and turned on the taps. Instead of eating dinner she would have another bath, she thought bitterly.
The cold spell did not last and, within two days, the heat began building up, lying in wait for anyone who happened to leave the air-cooled hotel. Snow still glistened in high crevices, however. Michelle had learnt by now that at the altitude of the mountaineers’ chalet, snow could fall in almost any month of the year and that frosts occurred, even in summer.
With the approaching week-end everyone wanted a set and she found herself completely occupied in her tiny salon.
Lyle Cunningham had driven up to the hotel in one of the Land-Rovers, one morning looking tanned in a safari suit. Breakfast was still being served and Michelle, whose first appointment was for nine o’clock, was standing outside on the steps leading to the foyer when he arrived. She had known that a Land-Rover was expected to take a party up the Pass, but was unprepared for the fact that Lyle would be driving the vehicle himself.
Too late to flee, she watched him get out of the Land-Rover and slam the door and then he came in the direction of the steps. ‘Hello,’
he said, joining her on the top one.
‘Hello.’ Her voice was abrupt.
‘Enjoying the morning sunshine?’ He permitted himself the briefest of smiles.
‘I’m due to do a light perm in a few minutes,’ she told him.
‘What have you been doing with yourself since I last saw you?’ he asked her with a smile that was about as sarcastic as he could make it, she thought.
‘I’ve been very busy,’ she answered.
‘Well, that makes two of us,’ he replied, and went through into the foyer.
Long, hot days drifted by. Michelle was kept busy both at the salon and at the desk. The more she had to do the less time she had to brood on Lyle Cunningham, she told herself. She and Liza had little to say to one another. However, she was very friendly with Debbie, who confided that she, too, found Liza irritating and difficult to get along with. ‘I don’t trust Liza,’ Debbie said one day. ‘In my opinion, she keeps Glen Hayes informed as to what goes on here at the hotel. I actually heard her reading out the wording of our new brochure to him, the other day. I mean, what’s it got to do with him}’
‘Talking about the brochure,’ Michelle said, ‘have the photographers made a definite appointment with us? I’m thinking of the flower arrangements, as a matter of fact. Liza told me to see to them.’
‘
Yes, they have. They’re coming on Thursday. They’ll be here early in the morning and will leave again the following day.’
‘I’ll have to order the flowers, in that case,’ said Michelle.
‘I believe there’s a new nursery about to open,’ Debbie said, ‘not so far from here. Have you heard?’
Michelle was feeling depressed. ‘No, I haven’t.’
‘They’ll be supplying flowers by air to florists all over. I suppose they’ll be getting orders from us in the near future. It will save a lot of bother and fuss. I have known times when our flowers have failed to turn up because the plane couldn’t land because of bad weather.’
‘I’ll order from our usual source,’ Michelle replied, her mind on other matters. After a moment she asked, ‘Why are we having a new brochure made?’ She had been reading through an old one. ‘These look okay to me.’
‘But we’ve added on,’ said Debbie, coming to stand next to her. ‘Don’t you see? Here’s the new ladies’ bar and here’s the new sun-lounge.’
Michelle watched Debbie’s .finger tracing where these additions had taken place. ‘Apart from that there are a few alterations to make regarding the tariff and the excursions, by Land-Rover, up the Pass.’
The photographers duly arrived on the Thursday morning, along with an invitation to Michelle, Liza and Debbie to attend a party to be held at the luxurious film-set house rented by Lyle Cunningham.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THERE was an undertone of excitement in the hotel directly two photographers set up cameras and lighting in the foyer, and it was obvious even to the casual observer that several women were loitering there in the hopes of being photographed. As it so happened, however, lenses were aimed at a party who had just arrived with a whole lot of expensive tan leather luggage.
Throughout the morning, photography continued with a break on the main terrace for tea.
Michelle was kept busy in the salon and there was no time to help at the desk. Just before lunch, Cunningham Senior came along to the salon and, wondering what he wanted in this small woman’s world, Michelle went over to where he stood in the doorway.