Sins of Sarah

by Anne Styles

  'Luck is nothing to do with it,' Chris put in. 'They know they'll get a bloody good product from us.'

  'No one can really know that until it's made,' Nick corrected him. 'However good the script is, the finished product is down to me and the actors.' Oh, God, she thought, I hope I can cope with this. It was a lot easier just doing two Do or Dares a week. Caroline joined them then for coffee, with a triumphant grin. Oscar had bargained hard - he knew they were in a tight spot - but Nick was still paying less than he would have done for Harriet.

  'An all-round good deal for everyone,' he commented quietly to Chris. 'Well done, Caro!' He turned to Sarah. 'I think you'll be pleased with Oscar.' It seemed like Monopoly money to Sarah. She hardly heard the conversation going on round her. After her TV salary it was a little like winning the lottery, and, as Nick had said, this was only the beginning. She swallowed her doubts about the love scenes and put them to the back of her mind. Above all, Sarah was a realist, and James was so nice maybe it wouldn't be quite so bad after all...

  * * *

  The party was beginning to break up. James had an appointment with the costume designer, the others were rushing back to the office. Nick offered to get a cab for her, but Charles stepped in quickly, he had already discovered where Sarah lived. 'I'll give you a lift,' he said firmly. 'I'm going roughly in that direction.' He wasn't, but anything to prolong the time with her. Nick gave him an amused look. He knew where Charles was heading, and it was not Chelsea.

  'Well, I suppose you'll be safe enough with Charlie,' he commented. 'He's not usually known for pouncing on ladies in the back of cars!'

  'He'd probably be mown down by a karate chop from what we know of this one!' put in James. He had no reticence whatsoever about kissing Sarah firmly on her mouth as a farewell gesture. 'We're going to have real fun, sweetheart, I promise you.'

  Chris and Nick were more restrained, they shook her hand politely. Caroline smiled, and promised to be in touch later that afternoon, as Charles shepherded her out. She was not sure what to expect, but she was pleasantly surprised to find a chauffeur-driven Jaguar at the kerbside. Charles handed her into it himself, as if she were a precious piece of china, not waiting for the chauffeur.

  'I'm going to wake up in a minute,' she told Charles wistfully as the car pulled out into the traffic. 'And I'll find everything is a dream!'

  'No way!' he said firmly. 'This is real and everyone's delighted.'

  'What if the money men don't like me?'

  'Nick has full casting rights,' Charles assured her. 'The decision is his and his alone, and for once I think he's made the right one. I never liked Harriet.' Charles Hastings sat riveted to his seat and knew at that moment that he was looking at the biggest challenge of his life. He knew he wanted this girl as he had wanted no other, and Charles was ruthless under his amiable facade. He was determined from that moment on that Sarah would be his - as he had been in the heady days of wresting his first wife away from Nick in their university days.

  It had been the longest-lasting quarrel that he and Nick had ever had in their long friendship, that one over Natasha. Nick had hated him for that manoeuvre for months - a hatred that had lasted until Natasha's death less than two years after her marriage to Charles. But Hastings needed another chatelaine, and in just a few moments Charles had decided he wanted this girl to be the one. Young as she was, in his eyes Sarah would be the perfect replacement for Natasha as she was still young and malleable enough to adapt to his needs and those of Hastings itself.

  For her part, Sarah was still very much in awe of him. Baronets and City businessmen did not figure largely in her life, as they did in her brother's, but by the time they reached her flat she had decided that she quite liked him.

  She had the intuitive feeling that Charles would be a good friend to her, and her smile was genuinely warm as she said goodbye to him. To her surprise he kissed her hand in farewell. It was an old-fashioned gesture, but beautifully done, and she gulped back the temptation to say something flippant.

  * * *

  The phone was ringing as she unlocked the door. It was Caroline, with a list of appointments for interviews and photocalls. Five minutes later Cressida Blake, the costume designer, called to arrange fitting times, followed then by the faithful Peter.

  'Meet me at the club,' Sarah suggested. 'This phone is driving me mad and, I need a swim to bum off all the lunch I've eaten.'

  'Good, I was going to suggest that. Shall we eat out to celebrate, or stay in?'

  'I think I've probably eaten enough for today,' she laughed. 'But perhaps we'll go for a pizza.' She remembered her resolve of the day before. 'To hell with healthy living for once!'

  * * *

  They were happy that evening. It didn't turn out to be the quiet evening Sarah had planned it to be, but then their rare evenings out hardly ever did. 'A quick drink at the pub', in Peter's words, turned into a party. Several of their friends drifted into the bar a few minutes after they arrived, so, naturally enough, Sarah's new job had to be celebrated and discussed. They were all actors, and Sarah giggled with delight at the salacious stories they could all tell about the cast and director of her new film.

  'James already thinks I'm into karate,' she told them, laughing.

  'Keep it that way,' advised Johnny. 'Get Bruno at the club to update you on a few judo throws as well, in case Mr Grey cuts up rough!'

  'Can you imagine me throwing a guy his size across the floor?' Sarah demanded.

  'You did it to me once. Don't you remember?' Peter put in.

  'That was different, it was all organized.'

  'I still got dreadful bruises on my backside.'

  'Well, we'll all look out for press pictures of Nick Grey on crutches, then. If she can throw Peter, she can throw him!' Suky chuckled. 'Did you hear the story about Judy Abbott catching James screwing Tamzin?' she added.

  'Talk about fight!' 'Oh, God, yes!' cried Johnny. 'She caught them at it in his dressing room at Shepperton,' he explained to Sarah, 'and blacked his eye so badly that he couldn't work for two days!' 'She divorced him for it as well,' Peter added. 'And the poor guy got landed with Tamzin.' 'That lasted all of six months,' Suky said. 'Christ! What a bitch she is! I can't imagine why he married her.'

  'I rather got the idea today that James is still paying for it,' Sarah confided, remembering the laughter when James had mentioned alimony.

  'Knowing Tam, I wouldn't be a bit surprised.' Johnny grimaced. 'Talking of bitches, the one you need to watch out for is Mrs Grey - the elegant Diaana.' He stretched the name to make it sound like a dirty word.

  'Why on earth should I worry about Nick's wife?' Sarah wanted to know.

  'Because, my darling, she gets very protective over her husband,' Johnny told her. 'Don't even try and get close to him. It doesn't pay to upset Diana Grey.'

  'I think he'd be very difficult to get close to,' Sarah suggested mildly. 'Anyway, I didn't fancy him at all. He's very nice, but terribly . . . old - and upper class, and he wears glasses to read!'

  'He is very upper class,' Suky said. 'I looked him up in Who's Who this morning. Daddy was a general, no less, and Mummy is a Duke's daughter. Bags of it there!'

  'Better stick to good old working-class me then,' Peter teased. 'Now let's go eat. I'm starving!' A pizza and a bottle of wine later, Peter and Sarah walked back to her flat, joking and teasing, happily arm in arm.

  The doorman called to her as they went in. 'These came for you, miss.' He indicated a huge basket of white flowers behind his desk which Peter had to carry, they were so enormous. Sarah ripped open the card on their way up in the lift. It said simply, 'Welcome aboard!' and was signed by both Nick and Charles.

  'How sweet of them.' She smiled, but Peter was a little more cynical.

  'Payment for pain to come!' he mocked as the scent of the flowers filled the flat in minutes.

  Sarah fingered the card as she waited for the kettle to boil, then slipped it into her desk while Peter's back was turned. She didn't
really want him to know she valued it. She had even carefully hidden her script so that he couldn't read it, well aware that, like her, he wouldn't like the idea of the love scenes. Since she refused point- blank to make love with him, she knew only too well that he would find it hard to take that she would be doing it on screen with someone else. That made her shudder violently, though whether it was pleasure or horror at the thought, she wasn't sure.

  Even though he was touching her only lightly then, Peter felt it as he attempted to kiss her.

  'My God! Reaction! What did I do right?' he teased cheerfully.

  Sarah laughed and kissed him back. 'That would be telling! I think it's time you went, Lyngard. I'll see you tomorrow.' It took her a little persuasion and a cup of coffee, but in the end he went, disgruntled as usual.

  She was not in love with Peter - far from it in fact. They worked together in easy harmony, but, if she was truly honest, she had drifted into the relationship needing friendship more than anything. Peter protected her from the attentions of the other men around her, and she was fond of him, but that was all.

  Pondering over her new job, she made her way to bed. But now, too excited to sleep, she half wished she had asked Peter to stay. Her thoughts surprisingly turned to Nick Grey instead. There were so many taboos against him he was beginning to sound almost attractive. And Sarah loved a challenge - whether it was a parachute jump or a person ...

  CHAPTER 4

  Her life was certainly different from then on. There just didn't seem to be enough hours in the day to satisfy all the demands on her time, and in the constant battles between Nick and Paddy she began to feel like a mere pawn in their games.

  Nick had been adamant about the jump, and any other stunts on her schedule that he considered dangerous.

  Paddy, as Sarah had guessed, quoted her contract to her, and reminded him that the television company had first call on her time and services. Sarah, herself, was totally on Paddy's side.

  'Nick has no right to tell me what to do!' she told Paddy, firmly. 'My contract with him starts in six weeks' time, not now. Any time he has from me at the moment is because I'm prepared to do it. Just don't tell him, and I'll do the filming. If I break my neck, it'll be my fault, and I'll worry about that if it happens! Just reschedule showing the worst stunts for the last programme, then by the time he finds out it'll be too late. I'll teach the bastard to boss me around!' He was certainly losing his charm in her eyes with his arrogant demands.

  However, Nick did back her up with the hairdresser. She met up with Ronnie at his offices and listened with astonishment as he discussed wigs and wig fittings. 'No!' she exclaimed. 'Why on earth should I need wigs? What's wrong with my own hair?'

  'She's right,' Nick said firmly. 'I know it's more time-consuming, Ronnie, but it's crazy to cover up all this. She hasn't even got a fringe.' He surprised Sarah by sweeping up her hair and twisting it expertly into a knot, regarding her critically in the mirror. 'It's absolutely perfect!'

  Ronnie stood, hand on hips, his lips pursed, as Nick and Sarah exchanged a conspiratorial glance through the mirror. 'Continuity will be hell,' he pronounced. 'And the lacquer is going to play havoc with it.'

  'So, I'll wash it every day.'

  'It's a lovely colour,' he admitted grudgingly. 'Is it natural?'

  'Do you want me to prove it?' she demanded. Ronnie was beginning to really irritate her. She could feel Nick's hand shaking with the effort he was making not to laugh.

  'No, dear.' Ronnie grinned at her. 'It wouldn't do much for me, anyway, but it might give our Nicholas a heart attack, and we don't want that, do we?'

  Nick really began to laugh then. 'Just don't start complaining when he calls you an hour earlier than the others!' he told her, still smiling. He was beginning to really like this girl.

  'You have permission to bawl me out if I do,' she promised, grinning back at him.

  He was so much nicer when he relaxed a little, she thought.

  'Don't worry. He'll do it anyway when he gets my overtime bill,' Ronnie assured her. 'Now, sir, how do we want it for this photo session?'

  'Up,' said Nick. 'Not too much make-up, Patti,' he added to the make-up girl.

  'Loads of eye-drops,' Sarah interrupted. 'I'm shattered, and it shows.'

  'You should go to bed earlier,' Nick retorted. 'And alone!'

  James appeared at that moment. 'You mean I have a rival?' he asked, sprawling into a make-up chair.

  'Chance would be a fine thing! Peter is always complaining that I'm too busy to see him. Ouch!' She winced as Ronnie twisted a curler too tight, distracted by James's handsome face and the wicked grin James flashed in his direction. 'Which dress. Nick?' She indicated the two dresses that Cressida had left out for her.

  'Oh, the blue, I think.' He got up to go. 'Come up for a drink, you two, when you're finished.'

  * * *

  The photo session with James proved to be great fun, even though she was tired. He was professional, full of ideas and they rattled through it. He made her laugh and relax, and she enjoyed his company. Her solo session had been much more difficult, though the press office had been delighted with the coverage. These were a follow-up set, extending the 'Do or Dare girl grows up' theme.

  'Anyone would think I was fourteen, not twenty-four!' Sarah complained as they made their way upstairs afterwards.

  'It makes a good story, though - let them play their games. It makes our life easier to ignore it,' James counselled. 'Fancy a curry after we've seen his lordship? There's a great Thai place round the comer.'

  'As long as that's all! Sure, why not?' Sarah had learnt to take a very firm line with the charming James. After numerous evenings spent rehearsing with him and Nick in NGA's deserted studios, she was beginning to get his measure, and they were becoming good friends, often sharing meals together after rehearsals.

  'Cautious lady! I promise not to lay hands on you - tonight, anyway. But I'll get you in the end - even if it's on the set, in front of Nick!'

  'You wouldn't dare!'

  'Don't bet on it!' he teased. 'I love a dare! We used to play that behind the bike sheds at school.'

  'Did you go to a real co-ed?' she asked enviously.

  'The roughest comprehensive in Yorkshire,' he said. 'But I did get to university. Miss Home Counties, and I did get a First - which is more than our Nicholas did, if you must know.'

  'What in?'

  'Biology.' He grinned. 'What do you think? My mother still thinks I ought to be doing a proper job and be a teacher.'

  'With your libido? Is she mad?'

  'I think I would've made a good teacher,' he said modestly as they walked into Nick's office.

  'Like hell you would!' Nick had overheard him. 'Biology has to be taught, James, not demonstrated. You wouldn't have lasted five minutes!' He had Cressida with him, and costume sketches all over the desk, and the quick drink turned into dinner for all four of them. Cress and Nick were old friends, and she certainly brought out the best in him. Sarah was quite sorry when dinner was over and James took her home.

  From the first moment they met, Sarah had adored Cressida Blake. Pretty, plump, dark-haired and always cheerful. Cress was ever resourceful and never at a loss for words — with language, according to James, that would strip paint. She had an Oscar to her credit from the same film that had earned Nick his, and the two had worked together on several films so he trusted her implicitly. Sarah quickly began to look forward to her sessions at Cosprops with her.

  Between them, they sorted out which of Harriet's costumes might work and which were hopeless. 'There simply isn't enough time to remake everything,' Cress had said reluctantly, but somehow she managed to alter a great many of the ones she had to keep. The whole appearance of a dress seemed to change as she produced a new collar, or a stunning piece of old embroidery, ferreted out of the antique markets she and Jenny, her assistant, haunted.

  The new designs that she fought Chris and Nick over until they agreed to pay for them had Sarah i
n raptures.

  Edwardian shapes certainly suited her. 'You're going to look wonderful,' Cress assured her. 'Now breathe in!' For a short girl she had immensely strong wrists to pull in the laces of the corset she was hauling Sarah into, and Sarah complained. 'You'll get used to it,' she added, without a shred of sympathy.

  'Never! How the hell did Edwardian ladies get up to anything, trussed up like this?'

  'Why do you think they had so many tea-gowns and all that gorgeous dishabille? That reminds me.' Cress rummaged through the chaotic pile that always seemed to accumulate around her on the fitting room floor. 'I found some super petticoats and camisoles in an antique shop the other day for that love scene. Look, aren't they pretty?' She held up an armful of chiffon and lace.

  'God, it's so thin!' Sarah fingered the fabric doubtfully.

  'Well, considering it's going to come off in a few seconds anyway, it doesn't really matter, does it?' Cress said practically. 'Oh, don't look like that, Sarah. Very few actresses like doing nude scenes, but they seem to be part and parcel these days! Just be glad you've got James to do it with. At least he's young, and pretty with it!' She was so matter-of-fact that Sarah had to laugh.

  'That's what James keeps telling me!'

  'James would, randy beggar!'

  * * *

  It was to Cressida that she turned to for help with her own clothes when she was faced with a cast dinner that Nick was giving. 'What the hell do I wear for that?' she wailed. 'I've only got two dresses, and I hate them both. The rest of my stuff is pretty casual, nothing like smart enough.' Like many actresses, Sarah lived in jeans, sweatshirts and her inevitable baseball cap. Her better clothes were a jumble of ex-commercial garments or clothes bought for a specific job - none of which matched the others. She rarely shopped willingly for new clothes, and relied totally on stylists and designers to turn her out correctly for a job.

  'Never fear,' Cress said airily. 'I'll take you to see my friend Catherine. She'll sort you out for Nick's dinner, and if you need anything else we'll toddle round Harvey Nicks. But I'll take a look at your stuff first, see what we can use.'