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The Sheikh

Page 8

by Anne Herries


  There was a lot of shouting and gesturing going on, but otherwise very little action as far as Chloe could see. She was beginning to think that Belle was right, when at last she was told that she was wanted in make up.

  ‘Well, Brent says you’ve got to look like Angela,’ the girl said to her as she was asked to sit down in a canvas chair in the tent provided for make up and costume. ‘It’s a pity—you’ve got better skin than she has and your face is younger, fresher. You would look better without this, but we’d better do as the master says.’

  She lowered a silvery-blonde, curly wig on to Chloe’s head, and then added a jewelled headband, which Chloe saw to her disappointment was cheap glass and gilt metal and looked tawdry.

  ‘Oh, it doesn’t look like that on film,’ she said, glancing at herself in the mirror. ‘Do I need all that make up, Jilly?’

  ‘Yes—the lighting would make you look washed out otherwise,’ Jilly said and laughed. ‘Nothing is natural and normal when we’re filming. It’s all make believe, fantasy stuff. You’ll never see a movie in the same way again, Chloe.’

  ‘No, I shan’t…’ Chloe was faintly disappointed. She watched as her appearance was transformed, feeling slightly embarrassed as she was handed the filmy costume that had been provided. ‘You can see right through this skirt.’

  ‘You need these.’ Jilly handed her some flesh-coloured tights. ‘Sorry, darling. I didn’t think to tell you. Forgot you weren’t one of us.’

  Chloe felt a little better as she retired behind the screen and slipped on the tights before changing into the costume. She came out feeling awkward, and blushed as she looked at herself in the mirror.

  ‘That isn’t me.’

  ‘It’s the slave girl the Sheikh wants for himself even though she belongs to another man,’ Jilly said. ‘You look really good, Chloe. You’ve got a much better figure than Angela. I wonder if Brent has thought about that. You make her look plump…’

  Chloe didn’t reply. She was feeling very nervous, and when someone came to tell her that Brent was ready for her she felt like running off and hiding. How could she go out there looking like this? Her father would be horrified if he saw her—and she thought Justine would have a fit of the giggles. She had never imagined it would be like this!

  ‘Come on,’ Belle said to her. ‘He’s on the warpath this afternoon—don’t make him wait or we’ll all suffer.’

  Chloe walked out of the tent feeling as if she wanted to die. Everyone was looking at her and she was terribly embarrassed. She had never worn anything this revealing in her life! They must think she looked a fright or they wouldn’t be staring at her.

  ‘Chloe…’ Brent came to her, laying his hand on her bare arm. ‘You look great. Just great. Don’t be nervous.’ He was staring at her, a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘I was going to shoot a scene from the back, where you walk across the set carrying a water bag…but I’ve changed my mind.’

  Chloe was overwhelmed with relief. ‘Shall I go back and change out of this, then?’

  ‘What are you talking about? I’m going to have a look at you through the camera. Just stand by that tent there…and look at me, then do exactly as I tell you.’

  Chloe nodded, feeling confused. Why did he want to take shots of her face? Hadn’t he said they couldn’t take close-ups? But perhaps he was going to use her as an extra slave girl? She felt a bit nervous as she took up the position he had indicated and put up a hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

  ‘That’s great!’ Brent called. He was behind his camera looking at her. ‘Do that again, Chloe…put your hand up and brush your hair back. Sigh and look as if you’re hot and tired.’

  That was easy enough, she was hot and tired—and fed up with sitting around all day. She suited her actions to her thoughts and Brent yelled excitedly.

  ‘That’s it! That’s just what I wanted, Chloe. Now walk towards me…come on…slowly now. Remember, you’re hot and tired and your heart is breaking…’

  Chloe obeyed him. She wished he would finish whatever he was doing and take the shots he really wanted so that she could get out of this ridiculous costume.

  ‘That’s great,’ Brent said. ‘Now turn to look towards the edge of the camp…towards your right. Someone is coming…he is the man you love but he shouldn’t be here, and you know he is in danger…look shocked…upset…’

  Chloe turned her head and then her heart stood still. A man was standing at the edge of the camp looking at her, and the expression on his face was so angry and disgusted that she was terrified. Shock waves ran over her, and she felt sick with shame that he had seen her like this. What must he be thinking of her?

  ‘That’s wonderful, darling,’ Brent said. ‘Now turn and run back into the tent as if you are in distress.’

  Chloe was only too happy to obey that instruction. She had felt dreadful out there in her tawdry finery and skimpy costume. She had seen the look in his eyes, and knew that he despised her for taking part in a film he would think cheap and insulting to his people.

  ‘Back so soon?’ Jilly asked. ‘That was quick. Has Brent finished with you? He usually keeps his stand-ins hanging about for ages.’

  ‘I don’t know if he has finished,’ Chloe said. ‘But I have. I can’t do this, Jilly. I should never have agreed to try.’

  She walked to the dressing table and picked up a cloth, beginning to wipe the make up from her face. It smeared all over, so she picked up some face cream and rubbed it in, scrubbing at her mouth and cheeks until most of the heavy rouge had gone. Then she tore off the wig and threw it on the table, heading for the screen as someone came in.

  ‘They want you again,’ Belle said. She stared at Chloe’s face in surprise. ‘What have you done…you can’t pose for the camera without make up.’

  ‘I’m not going to,’ Chloe said. ‘You can tell Mr Harwood that I am very sorry, but he will have to get someone else to stand in for Angela. I’m going back to the house.’

  ‘But you can’t do that,’ Belle cried. ‘Brent is wild with excitement. He thinks he’s discovered a new star. He’s talking about writing in a part for you.’

  ‘I’m not interested,’ Chloe said and went behind the screen to take off the costume and put on the dress she had discarded earlier. Even that was a flimsy affair she had borrowed from the costume department and wasn’t something she would have chosen for herself.

  When she went outside, it was to discover that some kind of an argument was going on. Brent was shouting at one of the crew.

  ‘I thought I told you no spectators? It doesn’t matter who they are—keep them away from the set while we’re filming—’ He broke off to look at Chloe, his look darkening as he saw she was no longer wearing her costume. ‘Why are you dressed like that? I wanted to take some more shots of you.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Chloe said. ‘I don’t want to be in your film, thank you. You can get someone else to stand in for Angela.’

  ‘Look, Chloe…darling…’ he said, coming over to her. ‘That’s all finished. I was a fool to think you could be Angela’s stand-in. You’ve got a much better figure and the camera loves your face. I want you to let me teach you how to act. You could be the next Mary Pickford.’

  Chloe stared at him uncertainly. There was no sign of Pasha now. She had no idea why he had been there earlier, but he had obviously seen all he needed to and left. He had thought her an immature child before this, and would now be certain that she was beyond redemption—besides, why should she care what he thought of her?

  Why had he come here? It couldn’t have had anything to do with her or he would have come to find her. Oh, she was being so foolish. What did any of it matter?

  The sight of Pasha and the look in his eyes had made her panic, but she realised now that she might have overreacted. She hadn’t felt comfortable in that ridiculous costume, but Mary Pickford didn’t wear things like that. She played much more believable roles, the kind of thing that Chloe would feel comfo
rtable with, and she was always dressed in lovely clothes.

  ‘I felt silly wearing that costume.’

  ‘And it didn’t do you justice,’ Brent agreed. ‘I am sure the costume department can find you something better…if you would just consent to try again.’

  ‘I’m not sure…’

  ‘Not today,’ he said. ‘Look, why don’t you go back to the house and have a nice cool bath and a rest, Chloe? You’ve had a long day, and you think it will always be like that, but you’re wrong. I made a mistake keeping you hanging about all morning—but it won’t be that way in future. I know how to take care of my stars.’

  Chloe hesitated. She still wasn’t sure that this business was for her, but surely she ought to give him a chance to explain what he meant. It had been a boring, tiring day, but she sometimes found dictation tiring and, on occasions, it could be a little dull. There were other things about being a film star that might be much more fun.

  ‘Well, I suppose I could think about it.’

  ‘Yes, you could,’ Brent said, smiling at her. ‘This is entirely my fault, darling. Just go back to the house and rest—and this evening we’ll talk.’

  Chloe nodded. She walked towards one of the cars that had been provided for transporting the actors backwards and forwards to the location, and a driver opened the door for her. He grinned at her, and she wondered what he thought was amusing, but didn’t bother to ask.

  ‘The boss must be keen,’ he remarked as he got into the front of the car. ‘He doesn’t usually react that way when one of his girls plays up.’

  Chloe frowned but didn’t ask what he meant by one of his girls. She wasn’t one of Brent Harwood’s girls in any sense of the word, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to be a star—but she did need time to think about it before she made up her mind.

  She wished that Amelia Ramsbottom had been with them, because it would have been nice to ask her advice. She wasn’t sure she could talk to the professor about this…but she might try. Taking a stand-in part for a few days was very different from being made into a star…if that was possible. Could someone make a star—or did it just happen? She supposed Brent would tell her that evening.

  Chloe was shocked to discover that the professor had gone off to visit a ruined fort in the desert and would not be back for a couple of days. His brief note said that he was sure she would have more fun filming with her friends than she would have got from visiting some ruins with him, and that she was to relax and enjoy herself. He would return by the end of the week at the latest, and then they would go back to Marrakesh together.

  Chloe frowned over the note. She wished the professor had mentioned his intention the previous night, and felt almost as if she had been abandoned. Of course, he couldn’t have known that she would become disillusioned with her new job so quickly, but he might at least have told her what was in his mind.

  Since she had no one to talk to, Chloe took a long cool bath and then dressed in a pretty frock that she had borrowed from Belle. It was sleeveless, red and had a low waist and a short flirty skirt, and it made Chloe look a bit like the film star Brent was saying she could be if she tried.

  She wound a filmy pink scarf about her hair, and used a tiny flick of lipstick, dabbing some perfume she had bought in one of the bazaars behind her ears. Her sandals were high heeled and a soft gold leather, something she had also borrowed for the few days she stayed here and unlike the more sensible ones she usually wore.

  Brent looked at her approvingly as she joined the others for dinner that evening. He inquired where the professor was, nodding as she told him that Charles had gone off to visit a fort in the desert.

  ‘Apparently the guide was available and he seized the chance. He thought I would be too busy to want to go with him.’

  ‘A pretty girl like you doesn’t want to be bothered with boring old men like that,’ Brent said, smiling at her in a way Chloe found slightly unnerving. ‘I think we can find something better for you to do, darling.’

  The word darling grated on Chloe’s ears, but she made an effort to smile at him. She was stuck here for the next week and she supposed she ought to at least try to do what she had promised.

  ‘I’m sorry I threw a tantrum this afternoon,’ she said to him after dinner was finished and they had gone out into the garden because Brent wanted to talk to her alone. ‘It’s just that…I felt a little silly in that costume. It looked so tawdry. Not at all the way it does on the films.’

  Brent nodded his understanding. ‘Yes, I know how it seems—but think of all the films you’ve seen, Chloe. We may have to do things that seem strange to you, but that’s the way films are made—the finished product is very different.’

  ‘Yes, I expect so.’ She felt a bit foolish now. ‘I think being a film star might be quite exciting—and I will have another try tomorrow.’

  ‘I knew you would,’ he said and smiled at her. ‘Besides, I’ve already got a team of writers working on a part for you. You’re not going to be a slave girl, Chloe…so you won’t have to wear that costume.’

  ‘I won’t—but I thought you wanted me as a stand-in for Angela?’

  ‘That was the idea, but I’ve decided to cut her part to a minimum—she doesn’t look that good on screen any more. We’ll change the direction of the story. She can be killed off and the hero will go back to a French woman he met in Algiers…’ Brent was obviously excited now. ‘It’s a fantastic plot, Chloe. He falls in love with this woman he meets in a nightclub—but she betrays him so he goes back to the desert to think about his life, and that’s where the slave girl bit comes in—but then she is killed and he returns to his true love, who has regretted the quarrel and wants him back.’

  ‘Well, it is certainly different…’ Chloe looked at him uncertainly. ‘What kind of clothes would I wear?’

  ‘Oh, very slinky dresses that cling to that fantastic figure of yours, Chloe. Why have you kept it hidden under those awful clothes until now?’ His eyes went over her. ‘You look better this evening—but you wait until I dress you properly. When I take you back to America with me I’ll have you dressed by the best designers…and your hair. We’ll have that lightened just a little and maybe just a hint of a wave—and keep growing it. We’ll use wigs for the film, but your hair suits you longer…’ His voice had become softer, almost like a cat purring. ‘You’re a very beautiful woman, Chloe.’

  Chloe wasn’t sure she liked the sound of all this. He seemed to think he was going to take over her life.

  ‘I’m not sure about coming back to America with you—’ she began, but stopped as Brent suddenly grabbed her by the arms, his fingers digging into her flesh. ‘What are you doing? You’re hurting me!’

  ‘You’re so damned beautiful,’ he grated. ‘Surely you know I’m mad about you, Chloe? Don’t think I’m going to use you for one film and then forget you. I’m going to make you a huge star. You will be famous…men will fall in love with you, and women will envy you. You’ll have fabulous clothes and jewels…I’ll cover your body in furs…’ His voice took on a husky note. ‘I didn’t realise until today what a beautiful body you had…’

  Chloe reacted instinctively as she heard that note. No, she didn’t want this. She didn’t want him to talk to her like this. It was all wrong! She pulled back from him, but he gripped hard, pulling her against him as he brought his head down and took possession of her mouth. She made a protest of disgust, then jerked back and pushed him away from her.

  ‘How dare you! What do you think I am?’

  ‘A woman who wants to be a star—and knows that favours have to be paid for,’ he replied with a sneer. ‘You didn’t think it all came for free, did you, Chloe?’

  ‘You—you disgust me!’ Chloe stared at him in revulsion. ‘If you imagine I shall let you touch me—’

  ‘I want to do more than just touch you,’ he said and then grabbed her, whispering words she had never heard before against her ear. Words that were so horrible that they made her feel sick
with disgust.

  She wrenched away from him again, striking him across the face. ‘I think you are foul,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t let you do that to me for all the money in the world and I don’t want to be one of your stars, thank you.’

  ‘Bitch,’ he snarled and reached out to grab her again.

  Chloe gave a little scream of fear and ran away from him. She was frightened and distressed, and wished that either the professor or Amelia was around so that she could go to them for help. What was she going to do? She couldn’t stay here in case he came after her again. She just couldn’t!

  He might try to attack her again…he might try to do some of those awful things he had whispered to her before she’d struck him across the face. The thought made her feel sick, sending little shudders running through her. She had to get away from this place—but where could she go?

  If only the professor were here! But the fort he had gone to couldn’t be that far away, surely? He had given her the name and a little diagram. It was in her bag in her room.

  She ran along the hallway to her own room, half-fearing that Brent would come after her, and locked the door while she gathered her things together, thrusting what she could into her large shoulder bag. The professor had drawn her a rough map, to show her where he was going. It seemed to be in more or less a straight line once you left the village. There was certain to be a little encampment nearby. Surely it would be easy enough to find?

  She ran back along the hall to the front entrance, and heard Brent talking to Belle in the room just beyond the hall. He was asking if she’d seen Chloe—obviously intending to come in search of her. And she could imagine what he would do if he found her!

  She couldn’t stay here in this house another night. It was impossible! She would leave and in the morning she would hire someone to drive her out to the fort, but for tonight…she must find somewhere to stay. She wouldn’t feel safe until she was somewhere that Brent Harwood couldn’t reach.

 

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