by Anne Styles
'Maybe I can eat now!' Sarah joked, but she was too nervous to do more than pick at a salad, which was not like her.
'It gets easier,' James comforted. 'No point in wasting away, sweetheart.'
'I feel like the new kid at school,' she confessed sadly.
'Well come out and play after school,' he invited. 'We've found a good disco in Swindon, believe it or not!'
'I don't!' 'We're all going tonight - even Ronnie,' Cress put in.
'OK, you're on,' Sarah decided. It beat Nick ordering her to bed at eleven o'clock.
The afternoon went far better for her. Nick seemed calmer with her, as if he had wound her up to keep her on edge and try out her nerves. Now he relaxed with her, once he had set the limits for that day.
CHAPTER 6
Even though she often joined James and Ben in the hotel gym, and swam with them afterwards, Sarah frequently went up to Hastings Court early, to swim in the privacy of the pool there. Inevitably, it seemed. Nick joined her, and she quickly grew used to his company as they raced up and down the pool.
If the atmosphere had been difficult on set the day before, they hardly spoke at all; at other times they invented crazy games to play. Both highly competitive, each always had a sharp urge to win. Nick beat her on speed, but she frequently beat him on diving skills or underwater. It seemed an unwritten rule that they didn't discuss work. Occasionally he would ask what she had done the night before, and gradually she grew to trust him enough to tell him. He didn't always approve - she could soon tell that from the frown that quickly appeared - but she always told him the truth.
Some mornings she felt his eyes on her body, admiring her, she knew, yet she took care not to flirt, knowing instinctively that he would hate it. Always she kept her distance from him; always she left the pool in good time for her hair and make-up call.
Ronnie got quite used to drying off her hair when she got to him. He was the only one in the unit to know of the early-morning ritual, but, unusually for a born gossip, it went no further. If any of the others knew about it they said nothing to Sarah, and no one would dare tease Nick about it.
After her initial irritation with him, Sarah had been unsure of Ronnie, but as they got to know each other she had discovered he could be a loyal friend. Outrageously camp, with blond curly hair and a wild selection of earrings, Ronnie was over forty, a seasoned veteran of the business, and had soon taken Sarah under his wing.
'Now, don't tell me you let that big butch he-man take advantage of you, dear,' he admonished as Sarah waltzed into make-up one morning, singing cheerfully. 'You've got that look in your eye!' 'Rubbish, Ronnie. I've just got an easy day today, that's all.' Sarah poured herself some coffee from the pot he had put on when he came in.
'I wouldn't blame you if you did, though,' he re-joined. 'I was always partial to running the old hands through a bit of chest hair, and for all his faults that Nicholas certainly has a lovely body. Shame it's wasted on women!' Sarah giggled.
'Ronnie, you're terrible! Anyway, I don't fancy Nick. I'm sorry to disappoint you. He's nice enough, but not for me.'
'Nice! He's bawled you out rotten for three weeks!'
'He's surprisingly nice first thing in the morning,' Sarah corrected him. 'Anyway, he may yell, but he would have thrown me off if he didn't like my work.'
'You're right there! But he made one of his worst enemies ever doing that. Ever heard of Max Moreton?' 'The film critic on the Unicorn?' Everyone knew of Maxie; he was a hated slimeball.
'Nick threw his girlfriend off a shoot once, she was so appalling. Maxie never forgave him for that. He's sworn to get even, and the sod will - one of these days.'
'Poor Nick! It's enough to make him look over his shoulder a great deal.' Sarah had several friends who had suffered from Maxie's poisonous pen.
'It certainly makes him a bit more careful who he jumps into bed with nowadays,' Ronnie said waspishly, securing her topknot with endless pins. They were doing an out-door shot that morning.
'I didn't think he had much time for that,' Sarah teased, and shielded her eyes for the inevitable torrent of hair-spray.
'He's always made time for it in the past. You just ask Cress - she knows all his little secrets. He is said to have had a thing with her once, as well!'
'Cressida? Are you kidding me, Ronnie?' Sarah spun the chair round to face him with incredulous eyes.
'Loves 'em and keeps them loyal, that's our Nicholas. She certainly had a thing for him, that I do know! It took her years to get over it. That stuck-up little wife of his must have something, though, since he always goes back to her.'
'Well, you learn something new everyday on this unit!'
'Laugh a minute!' he agreed. 'Did you also know our Nicky has his fortieth birthday this week?' 'Oh, gosh, no! Shall we get him a cake?'
'With forty candles? Rather you than me! He would probably hit you over the head with it for reminding him.'
'I'm sure he wouldn't.' Sarah was already planning it.
Both Cress and Alex looked doubtful when she mentioned it. 'No one has ever done that for him before,' Alex said. 'Could be dangerous ground, Sarah.' But Sarah had made up her mind, and was feeling recklessly cheerful that morning. Do or Dare were coming down to do an interview and take some shots of the filming, so she would be seeing Peter and Paddy. The only drawback was that the loathsome Philippa was coming too, to interview James. Nick had very reluctantly agreed to an hour's break for them to do it, he was still sore at Paddy over the stunts, and Sarah was sure he had scheduled a kissing scene to remind Paddy who was the boss now.
She ran out to talk to the caterers before they began shooting and made swift plans with Karen and Joe, collecting a breakfast roll as she did so. Her appetite had come back, sharpened by the early-morning exercise.
To the amusement of the crew, and Sarah's own surprise, she had found she could happily eat a huge bacon roll for breakfast and a three-course lunch, only forgoing something if she felt her corset becoming tight. However, she made sure to finish the roll before she strolled across the lawn. Cress and Jenny were viragos where food and costumes were concerned.
The crew greeted her cheerfully. 'Ready to get your stays bent?' teased Alex as she approached. This was the first love scene to be shot.
'Passion at this time in the morning,' she laughed. 'It's all too much!'
'It's never too early for James,' put in Lenny Clements, the lighting cameraman.
'Just don't tear the frock, James,' Joanna begged, already pulling twigs from the hem. James leant back against the tree trunk, laughingly taking Sarah into his arms and kissing her.
'Take your time, guys, we'll just get some practice in!' They were working under a huge cedar tree and the lighting was complex.
'You can concentrate and rehearse instead of messing about!' Nick snapped. 'We haven't got all day, thanks to the TV people!'
'What's the betting he has the hots for her?' Ronnie murmured to Jenny. 'I have a feeling James is really winding him up.' They both sneaked a look at Nick's furious scowl as James and Sarah giggled together, their arms around each other with the easy familiarity of the friends they were.
'And this is only a kiss!' laughed Jenny. 'If that is the case, wait till next week!'
Nick knew he was being irrational, and for once he curbed his temper. He knew it wasn't fair to them, just because James held Sarah so confidently and she was so obviously comfortable with him in a way she certainly wasn't with him. It even irked him that she happily allowed Charles to kiss her cheek when she greeted him, yet he knew, deep down, that Sarah had an easy rapport with everyone on the crew, and had done almost from day one. She was openly affectionate with them all. Her reserve was only for him.
* * *
On Wednesday no mention was made of Nick's birthday.
Even Sarah began to question the wisdom of what she had planned, when he was as picky as ever over her performance, but Karen had made a superb job of the cake so she felt honour-bound to carry it
through.
'You're on your own in this one,' the crew had insisted, but, unknown to her, they had chipped in for champagne, waiting till she was halfway across the room to an astonished Nick before they struck up with a loud chorus and produced it.
'My God! How did you find that out?' he demanded in amazement.
'Unit gossip. Happy birthday. Nick!' To their surprise he was clearly touched by the gesture. Laughing, he obliged by blowing the candles out.
'I hope you made a wish,' Cress told him, as she handed him a glass of champagne.
'Certainly, but I think I may have a long wait for it to come true.' Cress gave him a quizzical look. 'I've never known you wait for anything,' she smiled.
'Not one of my better traits, I admit.' She leant over and kissed his cheek. 'I could get used to this.' He smiled back.
'So could we. Just ease up on that poor kid for the rest of the afternoon. Do her a favour. She went through hell wondering if you would break her neck for planning this!'
'I'll try,' he promised.
Cress thought suddenly that she had never seen him look so tired. He did make an effort, even managing to wrap on time, for once, and, making a decision as he did so, he walked over to Sarah as she left the set. Wishes never came true unless you did something about them, he thought ruefully.
'Sarah, wait,' he said quietly. 'Thank you for your surprise. I did appreciate it.' She smiled, the slow, wide smile he was beginning to know so well. 'Look, Charles , and I are going out to dinner this evening. Would you like to join us? You might cheer two lonely old men up!'
Sarah considered. 'Well, yes, as long as Charles isn't on one of his long-distance kicks again?' 'No,' he smiled. 'The Priory, it's about half an hour's drive away. Wear your best frock, and I'll pick you up about eight.'
She went down to the wardrobe area in a panic. 'Oh, Ronnie,' she wailed. 'What can I do with my hair?'
'I did warn you.' He brushed out the lacquer. 'Wash it with this when you get back to the hotel, and I'll run over with my tongs. You can't let sir down.' He handed her a treatment shampoo.
He was as good as his word, full of wicked instructions and whirling the curling tongs through her hair like a dervish until he was satisfied with the results. 'There, you'll knock him dead!'
'Them,' Sarah corrected. 'Oh, dear, I think I'd rather go to the disco.'
'Rubbish! Go and butter the old sod up. Might do him good.'
'Old? He's younger than you!'
'Only just! Now move! You look quite yummy!' She hugged him and ran down to the bar, Catherine's jade-green dress swirling around her, and she felt agonizingly shy as she approached the group sitting there.
'Wow!' exclaimed Alex, as Nick rose immediately to greet her, seeming even taller in a beautifully cut dark grey suit. 'I can see you aren't discoing tonight.'
'No, she's playing with the grown-ups tonight,' Nick told him, and took her arm quickly. 'Shall we go?' He led her out before any more of the crew arrived. 'I don't want them to think I'm taking advantage of you,' he laughed. 'Though in that dress it's very tempting to try! That's a Catherine Jayson, isn't it?' Sarah nodded in surprise. 'My wife goes to her,' he said in explanation. He touched her cheek gently as he opened the car door for her, a suddenly intimate gesture that made her shiver. 'I'm glad you came. And I know Charlie will be delighted.' Sarah leant back in her seat, breathing in the luxury of the expensive car. He was driving one of Charles's Jaguars instead of his Porsche, with firm, assured hands on the wheel. In a formal suit and tie he seemed older somehow, the lines around his tired eyes seemed deeper. Cress was right, she thought, he did work too hard.
In the confined space of the car she was painfully aware that his closeness frightened her, and she was suddenly afraid of being alone with him. It was not the same as swimming in the pool, even though they both had far more clothes on, and she was not at all sure of what to say. 'I'm surprised you're not out with your wife tonight,' she ventured at last. 'Charles and I must come a very poor second.'
* * *
'Diana and I don't have that kind of marriage, I'm afraid. And she's very busy at the moment.' He shrugged. 'We're having a dinner party at the weekend, I think. But, please, don't call yourself a poor second. You should have more confidence in yourself. That's half your problem, Sarah. Let's get one thing straight. I'm taking you out to dinner because I want to.'
She was astonished. 'What makes you think I have a problem with confidence?' she demanded quickly.
He laughed. 'Sweetheart, it shows every time you walk into a room or onto the set. You breathe in and set your shoulders as you've obviously been trained to do, but your eyes give you away every time. It's as if you're afraid of people looking at you. You're a beautiful girl, Sarah, yet you seem to be terrified to let anyone see it - the way you persist in covering yourself in those baggy great jumpers and that terrible baseball cap. I must admit, there have been times I've wanted to rip that off just to prove you had hair! You have a body most women would die for, and you always want to hide it! Do you know, I think this is only the second time I've seen you wear a dress, apart from on set, and it's a vast improvement!'
Sarah considered, in astonishment, the fact that he should even notice. 'The dresses were Cressida's idea,' she admitted. 'I don't really think about clothes much, as long as I'm comfortable.' 'That's obvious! You should listen to Cress more. She's very good at her job. Remember, Sarah, you are no longer hiding in children's TV. What you look like matters - not just to me, but to the rest of the business as well. You're frightened of your own shadow most of the time! It's good for me, in that I can see my bullying paying off, but if you look good you'll have far more confidence to deal with everything else, I assure you.'
'You mean you bully me on purpose?'
'Of course I do! I get results quicker that way, I'm afraid.' He smiled disarmingly. How much younger he looked when he did that, she thought. 'It's been easy so far, though. After this week we have much more difficult stuff to do. I've led you in gently, but those two-handers for you and James will be hard going emotionally - especially for you.' She knew he meant some of the scenes she dreaded. James's character was meant to be shell-shocked from the War, and she had long, impassioned speeches to an unresponsive figure in a wheelchair. They were planned for most of the next week, with their first love scene on the Friday. Nick had carefully watched her bruises fade, and scheduled accordingly.
'Nick, I'm more afraid of doing that love scene than any of the two-handers,' she admitted, biting her lip in case he was annoyed with her.
Nick was pulling into the restaurant car park. He switched off the engine before he turned to look at her. 'I did ask you about doing those scenes,' he reminded her.
'Yes, and I said I would do them.' She was firm on that point. 'It doesn't mean I'll find it easy, or pleasant. Oscar insisted I was to do it. He made me agree.'
'Wise old Oscar,' he commented. 'Look, stop fretting. I know it won't be easy. It's not something I would like to do myself, I admit, but I promised I would try and help and I will. It'll be a minimum crew, and you can pick who you want of your own personnel.' Even with a slimmed-down crew it would mean at least eight people, and for a moment he wished he had cut the scene - but as it put the couple's feelings into perspective it had to stay. At least, he thought ruefully, he could be quite sure she was not sleeping regularly with James. If she were, there would be no reticence on her part about the love scenes. She was certainly keeping Charles at arm's length, that he was sure about - much to Charles's annoyance and Nick's private amusement.
'Look, forget about it for now,' he advised her then, and went round the car to help her out. 'Let's see if Charles is on time for once. He isn't usually.' He wasn't. Nick was delighted to have her to himself for another twenty minutes before Charles finally arrived.
Sarah sipped at the Veuve Cliquot he'd ordered and listened carefully as he discussed the complex character she was playing. Now she had worked on Abigail for three weeks or so, she
understood a great deal more of what was expected of her. It certainly surprised her that Nick had such a firm grasp of a woman's feelings - he could probe deep into her soul, it seemed.
'The book Home Leave is based on is in Charlie's library,' he said, when she voiced her surprise. 'I'll dig it out for you. We're changed a lot of it, but the basics are the same.'
Charles joined them with an exclamation of pleasure. 'This certainly beats dining a deux with Nicholas, birthday or not!' he beamed, settling into a chair. 'I thought the waiters' eyes were twinkling a bit tonight!'
They were both courteous and attentive, with the inborn good manners that came naturally to men of their background, but it was Nick to whom she was drawn more and more as the evening progressed. They found shared preferences for rare steak, and she found they shared the same sharp sense of humour as Nick relaxed and the stress disappeared from his tired eyes. Charles, she merrily flattered and flirted with, as the champagne eased her nerves, but it was Nick who held her attention. Why wasn't he always like this? she wondered sadly.
She listened, with growing awareness of the depth of his intelligence, as he and Charles discussed some of the books Nick had obviously been reading from the Hastings Court library. Sarah, who never read anything more taxing than the latest Jilly Cooper or John Grisham, was enthralled by the way he dissected and critically analyzed books she would have dismissed as boring, bringing out areas of them that she would never have noticed. But she admitted to him that she didn't read much - she had decided long ago never to tell Nick anything less than the truth.
'He's totally boring about literary subjects,' Charles told her sympathetically. 'Comes of having an English degree, I suppose. I prefer Horse and Hounds and Sporting Life personally!' Even if he that were true, he understood Nick, she thought wistfully, her eyes clouding.
'Best racing tipster we had at Oxford,' Nick quipped. 'Even in the nursery he read form books.' 'To Nanny's disgust!' Charles laughed.
'Nanny was disgusted by most things,' Nick rejoined. 'When I first came to Hastings, Sarah, I was three, and I spoke better Malay than English because I had been looked after by an ayah. Nanny was absolutely horrified! The times she slapped me for not speaking in English! I can still feel her wet hands on my bare legs!'