The Berkeley Method
Page 12
Her chalet is only a few doors down from mine, and when I see a huge speaker set being manhandled through the door, I wonder whether she’s going to be the best of neighbours.
I resolve to give her the benefit of the doubt, and reach for my key card.
The door is unlocked though, which is strange. I’m forgetful at the best of times, but I’m sure I remember closing it properly when I left.
Shaking my head at my general air-headedness, I push open the door.
But as I step inside, I feel instantly as though something is wrong. As I walk inside, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Something is different here. But what?
I remember the eerie laugh in my bedroom and give a little shudder.
There’s no way that could have been real, could it? The entire chalet was sealed up that day. No one could have got inside. And besides, I checked the bedroom. It was empty. People don’t just vanish.
I walk uncertainly up the staircase, wondering if I should go outside and ask one of Natalie’s staff members to come inside with me.
I’m half considering swallowing my pride and asking. And then I remember that James stayed the night. I don’t know if he took all of his clothes with him this morning. The last thing I need is gossip starting amongst the crew that I have men back to my chalet.
I take a breath, fortifying my courage, and begin to climb the staircase.
There’s no one in here, Isabella. Stop being such a coward.
How badly do I need my phone anyway? I consider a day without contact from James, and decide it is essential.
The bedroom door is halfway open, just as I left it.
You see, Isabella. Nothing to worry about.
Slowly, I push open the door.
The first thing to catch my attention is my cell phone on the bedside table.
And then I see the bedspread.
Someone has drawn a large heart on it in red lipstick.
My eyes fall to the floor. A Clarins lipstick lies abandoned with its lid off, the stick of paint worn down to a scratched nub.
I recognise it from the bathroom. And for some reason, seeing it cast aside and ruined charges me with a little surge of fear.
I look back to the heart on the bed.
Did James leave it?
The shape is uneven, carelessly done. More like a poisoned pen than a love letter.
And James got this bedspread especially for me. I can’t believe he’d daub it in lipstick.
I snatch up my cell phone, keeping my distance from the bed. Then I back out of the room uncertainly, my thoughts racing.
By the time I’m at the bottom of the stair, I’m already dialling James.
Did Natalie do this? It’s a bizarre thought, but she’s not the most stable of people. And she has just arrived in the studio.
The call to James fails to connect, and I exit the chalet. I realise my heart is pounding.
Without a better plan, I head back to the rehearsal studio, my mind whirring.
And by the time I’ve reached the confusing jumble of studio buildings, I’ve managed to calm myself down.
Probably, it’s just a prank, I decide. Maybe it’s something that happens in all movie studios, hazing the newcomer. Or one of Natalie’s crew saw that I’d left the door open and decided to play a joke on the leading lady.
I cringe inwardly to think that someone has been inside my bedroom. What if they looked in the bedside drawers?
“Hey! Isabella. Are you ok?”
I see Callum on the main path.
“I thought you might have got lost,” he explains. “These studios can be like a maze.”
As he closes in on me, I see his face change. I must look more anxious than I realise.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, touching my elbow in concern.
“I. Um. Oh, it’s nothing,” I say, trying for a smile. “It’s just that I left my chalet door open.” I frown and shrug. “And some joker scrawled in lipstick on my bedspread. I guess I should be glad it’s nothing worse.”
I manage something more like a real smile. But Callum’s looks suddenly frightened.
“Lipstick?”
“Uh huh.”
“Just lipstick? Or was it a drawn shape?”
“Um. Yeah. A shape,” I say slowly, wondering how Callum could know this. “It was a heart shape.”
His face drops in horror.
“A heart, in lipstick?”
“Yeah. Some joke!” I shrug again. Then I notice that Callum’s face is ashen. He’s fumbling for his cell phone.
“What is it?” I ask.
Callum begins to dial. His hands are shaking.
“Callum?” The fear is beginning to rise again now. “What is it? You’re freaking me out.”
“I’m calling James,” says Callum, clamping the phone to his ear. “He’ll know what to do.” He twists his head left and right, as though looking for an imaginary assailant in the distance.
“It’s just a prank, right?” I ask, an icy feeling creeping into my stomach. “Nothing to worry about?”
Callum stares at his phone, and curses under his breath.
“He’s not answering,” he says. “Pass me your phone.”
“There’s no reason why James would answer my call when he wouldn’t answer to you,” I say, handing him my phone.
Callum raises a half eyebrow in reply, and dials. He gives a little start as the phone connects.
“James? Hello? It’s Callum.” He holds his hands up to an imaginary reply.
“Issy’s fine. She’s here with me,” says Callum. “But she’s just found a lipstick heart on her bed.”
There’s a long silence whilst he listens.
“Ok, yes, I’ll keep her with me,” he says, looking left and right. “Camilla’s in the studio. I’ll take her back there. Yes. See you there.”
He hangs up and turns to me.
“We need to get to the rehearsal studio,” he explains, moving to take my elbow.
I tug it away.
“Wait! I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
I set my jaw determinedly.
Callum sighs.
“The lipstick heart is not a good sign,” he says. “It’s probably best if James tells you the rest.”
“But. It’s just a joke, right?” My mind is wheeling in confusion.
Callum purses his lips, as though wondering what more to tell me.
“It’s not a joke, Isabella,” he says after a moment. “It’s… It’s a threat.”
Chapter 18
A threat? The words pulse through me.
“What kind of threat?” I whisper.
Callum takes my arm more determinedly.
“Right now, I want to get you into the rehearsal studio,” he says. “James is on his way. He’ll take care of everything when he arrives.”
I follow Callum, noticing that even as a man in his forties, he still looks to James to take charge. That’s Berkeley’s natural authority, I guess.
I follow Callum silently, and after a few twists and turns, we reach the rehearsal studio.
Callum was right. The studios really are confusing to navigate. I’m glad he came to get me. I could have wandered for hours.
They consist of many different sized buildings, which all look exactly the same from outside. Each is white, with a slightly pitched grey roof, as though one family of buildings have cloned themselves as far as the eye can see.
“In here,” says Callum, pushing open a door to one of the buildings. A heavy type number is all that marks it out from the others.
Inside is various sound and lighting equipment, and a smaller sectioned area, which has been marked out for filming. It’s been decorated to look like the inside of a country cottage, with half-timbered walls on three sides and a roof.
It looks so strange to see this little village interior, set inside a big modern studio, that I’m momentarily entranced.
Camilla’s mussed blonde head peaks out from behind the cottage set.
“Oh, you found her.” She smiles. “Did you get lost after all, Issy?”
Then she notices my anxious expression and the tight line of Callum’s mouth.
“What’s wrong?” she says, emerging from the set.
The door bangs, causing us all to jump. And I turn to see James has entered the building.
It’s as much as I can do not to rush into his arms. And he has no such restraint.
James runs over to me, only managing to hold himself back from a full embrace in the last moment. He settles for grabbing me by the upper arms.
“Are you ok?” he asks, his eyes searching my face.
“Sure, I’m fine,” I say. “I just have no idea what’s going on.”
I let my eyes slide towards Camilla and Callum, to remind him that our relationship is supposed to be a secret. I can already see from Camilla’s face that she’s understanding something more from his actions.
James seems to collect himself, allowing my arms to drop. He takes a step back and rubs his forehead. Then he turns to Callum.
“Did you see him?” he asks.
Callum shakes his head. “I just heard it from Isabella.”
Now Camilla is looking confused, staring back and forth at all three of us.
“What’s happened?” she asks, looking at me.
“I don’t know,” I say, turning to James for an explanation. “And if someone doesn’t tell me soon, I going to go crazy.”
James closes his eyes for a moment.
“There’s a stalker on set,” he says finally. “I thought I’d done everything necessary to prevent him from finding us out. But unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. No doubt partly due to Ms. Ennis’s love of press attention.”
He looks furious as he says this last part. I wouldn’t want to be Natalie right now.
“Is a stalker such a big deal?” asks Camilla, voicing what I’m thinking. “I thought most celebrities have them.”
James is about to reply, when the studio door bangs again.
We turn to see Natalie standing in the entrance, looking furious.
“What’s going on?” she demands.
She’s wearing a black and green patterned Stella McCartney pantsuit and pink-heeled sandals. So much for taking a nap. By the look of her, she’s spent the last hour styling herself.
“James?” She clicks across the studio floor. “I’ve been told that you’ve closed the set. My insurance people have been in touch. They say that you’re cancelling the movie!” She’s standing with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot.
Now it’s my turn to stare at James in shock. I hear Camilla catch her breath. Callum looks pale, but unsurprised. As though he were expecting this news.
Cancelling the movie? What the hell?
“Isabella has attracted the attention of a stalker,” says James levelly. “For her safety, we need to close the studio.”
I’m staring at James, trying to work out why his reaction is so strong. Surely he’s not allowing his feeling for me to cloud his judgement?
If it weren’t for Callum’s disquiet, I’d suspect so. But something more is going on.
“So what?” replies Natalie, tossing her straightened hair. “I have, like, three stalkers. No big deal.”
“It’s the Lipstick Stalker,” interjects Callum.
Natalie visibly pales.
“Holy shit,” she whispers.
“Exactly,” says James. “So, you understand now why the movie must be cancelled? Or, at the very least, postponed for a very long period?”
“What is going on!” I must have said the words with more force that I realised, because everyone turns to me.
James hesitates, then puts his hand on my shoulder.
“The Lipstick Stalker is dangerous,” he says.
That gives me a jolt. “Who is he?” I ask. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“So far, all the studios have joined forces to keep him out of the press,” says James. “Because that is what he wants. Publicity.”
“But why is he so dangerous?” My eyes are on his, urgently searching his face.
“He preys on debut actresses,” says James in a tight voice. “That’s one reason why we’ve been able to keep him out of the papers. The actress he targeted last wasn’t a big name.”
“And she never will be a big name,” sniffs Natalie. “Once he got to her, she dropped out of acting all together.”
James turns to her furiously.
Natalie glowers back at him.
“What do you want?” she hisses, “that we should lie to her?” She addresses this last remark towards me. “She’s not a baby, James, even if she’s your little favourite.”
Wow. So, Natalie really doesn’t like me. I remember her warm smile when we first met. She put on such a good act.
“Isabella should know,” continues Natalie, “what could happen to her.”
Natalie turns to me.
“The last actress he got to never acted again,” she announces. “There. Now you know. He got inside her house, and they don’t know what he did to her. But she didn’t speak for a month, and she has panic attacks within half a mile of a studio.”
“There were no injuries, no marks,” murmurs Callum, clearly trying to mitigate Natalie’s terrifying explanation. It doesn’t work. The fear which Natalie’s words had sparked in me explode.
This man has been in your bedroom.
“It’s ok, Isabella,” soothes James, taking a step towards me. “It’s not an issue for you, because this movie won’t go ahead.”
“It could still go ahead,” says Natalie, her green eyes hardening at James. “If you ditch your precious debut and go for a known name.” She tosses her hair. “The Lipstick Stalker doesn’t go for big names.”
I realise she’s suggesting herself for my role.
I look at her in disgust. I have never met anyone as selfish as Natalie Ennis.
James is shaking his head.
“That role was made for Isabella,” he says. “I’ve been looking for someone to play it for five years. Without her, there is no movie.”
Natalie’s face twists. Almost like she’s snarling. Then she seems to take a hold of herself. Before our eyes, her all-American wholesomeness sets back into place.
Whatever I think of Natalie, I decide, she’s some actress.
Natalie cocks her head to one side. “Can’t you just anti up security?” she says eventually. “Find him out? Have him arrested?”
I see something like hope spark in Callum’s face. And I remember how much he needs this movie.
“No police can be involved,” says James. “With the press which you have managed to attract, Natalie, there would be a media circus. This, stalker, would likely gain press attention, and that is exactly what he wants.”
Natalie looks unrepentant.
“Security then,” she says. “A top security firm. They’re better than the police anyway.”
James pushes both hands against his eyes, as though trying to think.
“I am not prepared to take that risk,” he says quietly.
Then I realise. He’s doing this because it’s me. Which means Callum and Camilla will lose out, because of me.
Images of Callum’s sad expression, when he explained how much he wanted this part, are racing through my brain. And poor Camilla. This is her first shot at being an actress. She’s put in so much work to get this break.
“No!” I shout, turning to James. “I won’t let you do it. I won’t have all these people suffer for me.”
“Exactly,” says Natalie, smiling at me, as though my outburst was for her benefit alone. “At least someone sees sense.”
“I mean it,” I say. “I refuse to let you do it, James. Security on set is tight.
You can hire more. Make us all safe.”
But James is shaking his head.
“That psychopath already got through security,” he says.
I remember the eerie laugh in my bedroom. Now is not the time to share that information. Instead, I aim for persuasion.
“I’ll come stay with you,” I decide, “in your apartment. It has the highest security in the complex. Just pick me out a spare room.”
I stare at him challengingly. I realise this is a gamble, but I’m hoping he sees the determination in my face.
I simply won’t allow Callum and Camilla to miss out because of me. And I’ve also handed James my acceptance of staying in his apartment. I’ve even made it so we won’t have to hide it from the others.
I see that my words have struck at his resolve, but he’s in no way prepared to risk my safety. So, I talk quickly, whilst he’s still uncertain.
“If we stay on set, and you hire a private firm,” I say, “then there’s a good chance we’ll catch this stalker. Then no one need be in danger from him ever again.”
I pause for a moment, letting this sink in.
“If we cancel the movie, then the Lipstick Stalker will still be out there,” I continue, playing my trump card. “And I’ll never be safe. Not so long as I’m a debut actress.”
James’s jaw tightens. He’s angry at me, I can tell, for suggesting my safety might be compromised in the future. But he’s also considering it.
I mean it too, I realise. I’d rather take a risk than be looking over my shoulder.
“No one else would be at risk,” I continue, pressing my advantage. “If this guy only goes for debuts, then everyone else is safe. And I won’t go out of sight for even a second, I promise.”
We all wait with baited breath for James to decide.
“Very well,” he says after a moment. “Here’s what we’ll do.”
I glance at Natalie. She looks victorious.
“I’ll run a closed set,” says James. “No one but the most essential crew. And we’ll only shoot scenes which require skeleton crew members.”
He glances at us.
“That means Isabella, Callum and Natalie,” he adds. “Camilla, I’d rather you went home. If things go to plan, you’ll be back on set in a week.”