‘Right, well, I better get sorted around here,’ she said. ‘See you tomorrow.’
James waved and walked out of the foyer while Claire got to work helping the rest of the crew pack up and ensuring everything was ready to go for the morning. They eventually left and she started on her last task of the day, disposing of the leftover food and paper plates. The muscles in her legs and arms hurt, her back ached, and weariness had taken over. These long days were wearing her down and the only thing that got her through was the vision of sandy beaches and clear blue waters. Although the heat of northern Queensland made her sweat so much that she wondered whether Antarctica would be a better choice for a holiday.
‘I thought I would find you here.’
Claire dropped the plates onto the table and remnants of half-eaten sandwiches scattered everywhere. ‘Jesus!’
‘Sorry.’ Luke helped pile the plates again.
‘It’s okay, really,’ Claire said. ‘What brings you here?’
‘Food.’
‘Pardon?’ She dumped the plates in a nearby bin.
‘I have a delivery for you.’ He pointed at the picnic basket resting against the bar.
‘A Hattie special?’ She couldn’t hide her enthusiasm.
‘Yep.’ Luke grabbed the picnic basket and set it on the table. He pulled out a couple of containers and opened the lids. A beautiful green salad with cherry tomatoes, spring onion, almonds and the delightful aroma of lemon filled the air. Her stomach rumbled when she spied the home-made lamingtons and quiche.
‘Your aunt is amazing.’
Luke pulled out a couple of plates and cutlery. He dished out the salad and quiche and sat on the chair opposite. ‘I hope you don’t mind me joining you?’
‘Not at all! It’s nice to have company.’ Although she’d prefer if the company didn’t turn on and off like a leaky tap.
They ate in silence and Claire began to wonder why Luke had bothered staying.
‘Hattie was wondering when you have a day off.’ He didn’t look up from his food.
‘We have a slightly earlier finish tomorrow.’
‘Would you like to come over for dinner?’
‘That would be lovely,’ she said slowly, not quite sure if the invitation was solely from Hattie. It disconcerted her that she hoped Luke also wanted her company.
He put down his knife and fork and looked directly at her. ‘What do you like to do for fun?’
‘Fun?’ Claire rested her cutlery on the now-empty plate. ‘It may come as no surprise.’
‘Darts?’
She laughed. ‘No.’
‘Kickboxing?’
‘No.’
‘Oh! I know!’ He waved his arms in the air. ‘Skydiving!’
‘Ha! No!’ She liked this light-hearted side of Luke Jackson. ‘I love watching old Hollywood movies.’
‘Really?’ He feigned surprise.
‘Who would’ve thought, eh?’
‘You know we have some Hollywood classics in storage here,’ he said.
‘You don’t say!’
Luke stood and offered his hand. Loving this chivalrous gesture, she put hers in his. It felt odd, but very satisfying, that their hands melded together so perfectly.
They went into the cinema and headed towards a door that led to a smaller hallway. She glanced back at the other door that remained off-limits. What was in that room?
Luke turned on the light and she squinted from the brightness.
‘Sorry about that.’
‘No worries.’
Luke opened a door and climbed a ladder. He motioned for her to do the same. A little uneasy with the steepness, she held on to the rails and made her way to the top.
‘Wow.’ She looked down on the cinema, which seemed so much smaller from this height. ‘This is the projection room?’
‘Yep.’ Luke was on his knees looking through a pile of large round silver reel containers. He focussed on the job and Claire walked around the small booth, careful not to touch anything.
‘This is amazing. Time has preserved everything beautifully,’ she said. ‘How come you have so many reels? Aren’t they expensive to buy? I thought cinemas only hired a movie for a short while then it went to the next cinema.’
‘I see you’ve done your research.’ Luke’s voice sounded muffled as he hunted around for whatever he was looking for. ‘My great-great-grandfather—Hattie’s father—bought a heap at auction before he passed away. He got them for a steal.’
‘I’m impressed.’
Luke jerked back then hit his head on the shelf. ‘Damn it!’
‘Are you okay?’ She bent down, and he edged away.
‘I’m fine, fine.’ He rubbed his head then returned to searching. Eventually, he pulled out several reels that looked just the same as all the others. ‘Aha!’
Luke pulled the cover off the projector and set about threading the film through the machine and checking everything was in place. Claire studied his every move. For someone who didn’t like movies, he certainly knew his way around the projection room.
‘Sorted.’ He stood back and looked at his handiwork. ‘Right, so you need to get back downstairs and I’ll get this started.’
‘What are we watching?’ She couldn’t help herself.
‘You like the classics, right?’
She nodded.
‘I’m taking a wild guess, but I’m going to put on one that you’re bound to like—I hope.’
‘Am I that easy to read?’ she laughed.
‘I am flying blind but every so often I’ll take a risk.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with a calculated risk,’ she said.
‘I’m not so sure about that.’ He turned on the projector and shooed her out the door. ‘I’ll be down in a tick.’
Claire tentatively went down the ladder, through the narrow hallway and back into the cinema. The screen flickered into life and the speakers crackled. It felt odd to be in the cinema without the buzz of the film set and to be actually watching a movie—like a cinema was designed for.
The second the movie started, she laughed. ‘No way!’
‘Yes way.’ Luke sat beside her.
‘How did you know Some Like It Hot is one of my all-time favourites?’
Luke looked ahead, like he wasn’t sure how to answer. Or he was too embarrassed.
How sweet.
‘Seriously, this is in my top five favourite movies of all time.’ She settled into the comfy seat. ‘All we need is popcorn.’
‘Back in a mo.’ Luke disappeared out of the cinema and into Hattie’s kitchen. He returned not long after with a bag of chips. ‘Not quite popcorn but will these do?’
‘Sure will!’
Luke opened the chips and offered her some. She reached in and grabbed a couple, surprised how quickly she’d switched from work mode to chill-out mode. Usually when on set she lived and breathed work, often falling in a heap at the end of the project. Sitting in an old cinema, watching one of her favourite movies, with a handsome and fascinating man beside her, certainly rated high on excellent ways to end a long day.
The movie started, and Claire instantly felt her muscles relaxing. The pain in her back subsided. And the brewing headache faded. On the screen, Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon were escaping the mafia after witnessing a murder, and to remain alive they had to transform themselves into women and join an all-girl orchestra.
When she burst out laughing at Tony and Jack trying to walk in heels at the train station, Luke joined in. The vast expanse of the cinema now cocooned them, like they were in a bubble that blocked the world outside. It wouldn’t last, she knew that, but it was nice to be in the moment and not have to worry about scheduling, constantly checking the time and moving props and people around.
‘Back in a second.’ Luke disappeared into the projection room for a few minutes then returned. ‘Had to change the reel.’
‘How do you know when?’
‘It’s a talent.’ He grinned.
Marilyn Monroe appeared on the screen sashaying down the train platform, then later playing the ukulele for the all-girl orchestra.
When she introduced herself as Sugar Kane, Luke snorted. ‘Really?’
‘Ha! I never thought of that. Sugar Kane and we’re in sugarcane country.’
‘Kind of weird but funny.’
‘It is a bit,’ she said. ‘Marilyn was on her downward spiral when this movie was made. She was constantly late and messed up lines. One line took forty-seven takes before she got it right.’
‘She had quite the tragic life.’
‘Indeed,’ Claire said.
They both returned their attention to the film and Claire revelled in the fact that Luke seemed to be enjoying himself. Nothing like a pair of men dressed up as women to lighten the mood.
They watched in a companionable silence that was punctuated every so often with laughter and Luke ducking off to change the reels. Towards the end of the movie Jack Lemmon jumped into a speed boat with the billionaire who says he wants to marry her/him. Jack finally admits he’s a man and the billionaire shrugs.
Luke’s laughter was music to her ears. Any tension between them had lifted.
‘Can you imagine what audiences would have thought when they saw this in 1959?’ she asked.
‘It’s a wonder the Hays Code let it be released,’ said Luke.
Claire looked at him, perplexed. ‘You know about that?’
Luke shrugged. ‘I may not have watched many movies in my lifetime, but I do know a bit about their history.’ He shifted to face her. ‘I’d like to know more about this one, though.’
‘You would?’
Luke laughed. ‘Don’t sound so surprised.’
‘But you said you don’t like movies.’
‘I don’t like the movie industry. There is a slight difference.’
‘Our production hasn’t changed your mind?’
‘Too early to tell,’ he muttered. ‘Tell me more about Some Like It Hot.’
Claire couldn’t contain her nerdy excitement. ‘The Hays Code was still in existence—it wrapped up in 1969—but this movie was a big middle finger to the censors. The filmmakers didn’t bother getting approval from the censorship board, which was rather gutsy given this was in the conservative era of Eisenhower. And,’ she paused to see if she’d lost Luke but he appeared entranced, ‘the Catholic Church wasn’t impressed with this movie, especially as it’s packed full of sexual language and innuendo.’
‘I’m surprised it didn’t end up on the cutting-room floor.’
‘Yeah, it’s a wonder. Most of the public loved it and so did movie peers because it was nominated for six Academy Awards and it won an Oscar for costume design.’
‘I can see why. Lemmon and Curtis managed to pull it off somehow.’
‘They certainly did. This movie has been voted by many experts as the greatest comedy of all time.’ She paused, slightly embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit of a fan and a movie nerd.’
‘I don’t mind. I like to hear what you have to say.’
‘Okay,’ she took a breath, pleased Luke hadn’t fallen asleep yet, ‘this movie really tested society because it challenged morality and made people wonder whether the Hays Code was necessary anymore. Some Like It Hot, in its own way, examines misogyny and female objectification, and does it so well. Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon get an understanding of what women go through on a daily basis by having to deal with sexual advances and being judged on their looks, even when they aren’t the prettiest girls in the room.’
‘Yeah, Jack and Tony aren’t exactly the belles of the ball.’
‘Definitely not!’ She smiled. ‘Especially when you put them next to a bombshell like Marilyn Monroe.’ Claire sighed. ‘They don’t make them like they used to. Isn’t she beautiful?’
‘Certainly is.’
Claire looked over to find Luke’s eyes on her. The movie music finished and the reel in the projector room flick-flicked as it spun.
Luke gently touched her hair, his hand slowly caressing her face.
She held her breath.
Luke moved towards her, his lips dangerously close to hers.
She closed her eyes, dipping under a wave of lust, and when their lips met, any doubts she’d had about Luke Jackson disappeared into the ether.
CHAPTER 15
1952 – Hollywood
Lena sat in the back of the limousine as they drove down her old street. She missed the little apartment she’d once shared with Yvonne, but after Lena’s monumental and rapid success, she’d been encouraged by the studio to buy her own house to ‘fit in with the public’s expectations of a starlet’. Waking up every morning, she still couldn’t believe she owned a piece of Beverly Hills—and a beautiful one at that.
She sighed.
‘What’s wrong?’ Pierre Montreaux placed his hand on her knee and she gently moved it away.
‘Nothing.’ Lena returned to staring out the window. She should be excited but nerves had taken over the moment she’d donned the ochre gown Yvonne had chosen for her. Opening nights were always fraught with angst.
The limousine turned the corner and they entered a street lined with people waving and cheering. Spotlights angled skyward moved across the darkness and flashes from the photographers’ cameras went off like fireworks.
The car rolled to a stop out the front of the movie theatre and Pierre said to the driver, ‘Go around the block one more time.’
‘Why?’ Lena asked as the limousine pulled away from the curb and continued down the road.
‘We need to give them a grand entrance, oui?’
‘Being late is bad manners.’
‘No one minds waiting for the leading man and leading lady.’
Lena rolled her eyes. ‘Just because you have a fake French accent doesn’t mean you can be arrogant. I see through you even if no one else does.’
‘Ah, my little rose, just because you have a fake accent doesn’t mean you can play the innocent card. I see through you.’
Lena gripped the edge of the seat so hard her fingers ached. ‘My accent is one hundred per cent genuine.’
‘Genuinely fake. You’re no New Yorker. But who cares. The public believe what they want and if they want to believe I’m French then I’m all for it. My exoticness adds extra zeroes onto my pay cheque.’ His smirk annoyed the heck out of her. ‘Not bad for a small-town kid from outside Calgary.’
‘You’ll get found out one day. Then what will happen?’
‘I’ve spent enough years crafting my persona, just like you. Nothing’s real in Hollywood. It’s a world built on make-believe and you’re a fool to think otherwise.’
The limousine turned onto the street once more.
‘Gee, I’m so glad we had this conversation,’ she said, rueing the day she and Pierre Montreaux had been paired as the ‘next big thing’. Since she’d walked into Stuart Cooper’s office and given her best performance, Lena’s career had taken off so fast her head was still spinning. If she had to suffer the company of a man like Pierre (whatever his real name was) then so be it. She’d achieved her dream and done it despite the studio’s initial concern about her maturity.
Another sigh threatened to leave her lips but this time she held it in.
The limousine pulled up and Pierre turned to her. ‘Ready, mon cheri?’
Pierre exited and walked around to her side of the car. He opened the door and she held out her hand. When she stood, a roar from the crowd pounded in her ears. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and all the anxiety about whether this film would succeed or not fell away—for now, at least. She should take in the moment, breathe, and revel in the fact that a little over two years ago she’d been dropped from a movie before the filming had even started. Now she was one of the most popular actresses in Tinseltown.
Pierre placed his arm around Lena and guided her down the red carpet. She wanted to shake him off but she held back. Every few feet they stopped to pose for the ca
meras, a sea of flashing lights blinding her. She smiled into the brightness, unable to make out the faces calling their names. One voice, though, sounded familiar and she peered into the crowd.
Stepping away from Pierre, Lena moved towards the mass of bodies. People waved and she signed autographs but as she did so, she surreptitiously searched for the owner of the voice.
‘Lena!’
She looked up to find the face of someone she hadn’t seen for years—Dotty Peters, the sister of Lena’s ex-boyfriend, Charlie. Oh no. Lena dropped the pen and paper on the red carpet. An assistant quickly scooped it up and handed it to Lena, who finished signing and handed it back to her fan. Lena made her way over to Pierre.
‘Let’s go in,’ she whispered.
‘Why the hurry?’
‘I’m cold.’ The lie came out way easier than they used to. Though acting was a form of lying, wasn’t it? Pretending to be someone you’re not? Was it acceptable if the lying moved from on-screen to off-screen? Was it really that bad? Although, if it wasn’t, Lena wouldn’t spend her days petrified of her past coming back to haunt her. And now a flash of her old life was only twenty feet away. ‘We need to go.’
Pierre threw her a sideways look, but he didn’t argue. Perhaps he sensed the urgency in her tone. The fact he didn’t quiz her or refuse her wishes endeared him to her, as much as she hated to admit it.
Pierre and Lena waved at the crowd as they entered the foyer of the cinema. It was a little less packed, and Lena had hoped she could catch her breath, but the sighting of Dotty Peters had upset her more than she’d anticipated. Lena wasn’t so naïve as to think people from her past wouldn’t surface one day, especially given her level of fame now, but she never expected Dotty to be the one who would come out of the proverbial woodwork. The last time she’d seen Dotty, harsh and tearful words had flown between them.
This could not be good.
Lena pasted on the smile she saved for meeting and greeting the people essential to her career and tried to lose herself in the thrill of being the centre of attention. It didn’t work. All she could picture was Dotty and her brother Charlie, a man she’d rather forget.
Hollywood’s elite swarmed around her and Pierre, as well as director Henry Newman.
The Cinema at Starlight Creek Page 14