Vengeance

by Susan Lewis

  ‘Laurence! Has Dyllis Fisher been on to you? I mean, how did she find out?’

  ‘No, she hasn’t been on to me,’ he interrupted. ‘But I guess she soon will be, unless . . .’

  ‘Unless what? Laurence, will you please tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘Willie Henderson, the director, pulled out today. He’s also pulled out the money.’

  ‘But why? Did he give a reason?’

  Laurence nodded. Then with a wry smile he said, ‘I guess I’d better come clean here, ’cos if what I’ve got in mind is going to work you’ll need to know what you’re up against.’

  ‘A producer who’s getting on my nerves is enough to be going on with,’ Kirsten remarked.

  Laurence grinned, but it quickly faded. ‘Willie pulled out because he can’t work with Ruby, the writer,’ he said. ‘You’ve read the script, you know she’s got what it takes, especially when it comes to dialogue, but I’m not going to lie to you, the lady’s got a few problems.’

  ‘Show me a writer who hasn’t,’ Kirsten remarked.

  ‘Well Ruby tries to solve hers in a bottle,’ Laurence said. ‘I know, show you a writer who doesn’t. Trouble is, when Ruby gets drunk she’s hopeless. When she’s sober she’s terrific, well maybe that’s putting it a bit strong, she’s not an easy lady to handle, but well, like I said, you’ve seen her work so you know she’s capable of coming up with the goods. I haven’t known her not deliver yet, though there are times when it has to be dragged out of her. And, like a lot of writers, she’s pretty touchy when it comes to other people putting in their ideas. Which brings me back to Willie. Unfortunately the two of them never did see eye to eye and yesterday, they had an almighty row and she slapped his face not for the first time.’

  ‘Really?’ Kirsten said, feeling the beginnings of a grin.

  ‘Yeah, well, I guess under any other circumstances it would be funny,’ Laurence said smoothly. ‘But as it stands we’re right back at the beginning, with a distribution deal providing we can raise the finance. And you and I both know we’re not going to be able to do that while Dyllis Fisher is . . .’

  ‘Then I’ll pull out,’ Kirsten broke in. ‘I don’t want you to lose this because of me.’

  ‘I’ve had a better idea,’ Laurence said. ‘Now I want you to hear me out because it’s pretty crazy, but I think – no, I know – it can work. But most of it depends on you.’

  Kirsten eyed him steadily. ‘Go on,’ she said.

  ‘I want us to go into partnership for this movie,’ he said. ‘McAllister and Meredith, Meredith and McAllister, whichever way you want to play it. In other words, we form a production company and raise the finance ourselves.’

  Kirsten blinked. ‘Do you mean personally?’ she said.

  He nodded.

  ‘But we’ve got to be talking about over ten million sterling here.’

  ‘Eight. By using what capital I have, cashing in investments and mortgaging the house I can put in close to four. I have no idea what your inheritance was . . .’

  ‘My inheritance is in trust,’ Kirsten interrupted. ‘But I can always borrow against the income,’ she added, vaguely aware that her head was starting to spin.

  ‘Can you raise as much as four million?’

  ‘I don’t know – until I try.’

  ‘Then you will try?’

  ‘On the condition we dedicate the film to Paul’s memory,’ she answered, knowing that she was fast losing touch with reality.

  ‘I don’t have a problem with that,’ Laurence smiled.

  They sat quietly then, toying with their food when it came and mulling things over in their minds. Kirsten could barely get herself to think straight. This was such a monumental step they were considering taking, not to mention risk, that for her at least, it was somewhere in never-never-land. In fact she could hardly believe that the conversation had been so simple when what it entailed was so staggeringly complicated. But perhaps even more bewildering was this sudden about turn in Laurence. Having declared he never wanted her in his life again it seemed he was now prepared to tie her to him almost as effectively as if he were marrying her. She was about to speak when Laurence interrupted her.

  ‘There’s something else,’ he said.

  ‘I haven’t quite got used to the first bit yet,’ she said.

  ‘I know, but I want you to consider the package I am proposing as a whole.’

  ‘I’m listening. I’m not sure I’m believing, but I’m listening.’

  ‘I don’t want you to produce the movie, I want you to direct it.’

  Kirsten’s fork clanged against her plate. ‘Laurence, is this some kind of a joke?’ she declared. ‘I’ve never directed anything in my life, and you know it!’ But despite her protest, despite the fact that he really might be playing with her, his words had already sent a tingle of excitement buzzing through her veins.

  ‘But you and I both know that you’ve always wanted to direct,’ he said, smiling at the way her eyes were giving her away.

  ‘But this is a feature film, Laurence. I’ve never even worked with 35mm, let alone directed it.’

  ‘I’m aware of that.’

  ‘. . . plus the fact I’ve been off the scene for five years . . .’

  ‘I know that too. But I still reckon you can do it.’

  ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘No, we have to get someone who knows what they’re doing.’

  ‘Will you stop eating my food,’ Laurence complained. ‘I told you, I don’t like liver.’

  Kirsten looked at him, nonplussed. He nodded for her to look down at his plate and only then did she realize that she’d started to reach across the table and fork up his lamb. She put her fork down and reached for her wine.

  ‘We can discuss this as much as you like, right now,’ Laurence went on, ‘but if you’d like to take some time to think it over before we enter into negotiations . . .’

  ‘But the crews, the budget, the cast, it’s all so much bigger than anything I’ve ever worked with,’ she protested.

  ‘Sure. But that doesn’t mean you can’t handle it. And I’ll be right there.’

  ‘Then why don’t you direct it?’

  ‘Because you could do it a lot better than I could. We both know you’ve got a real talent when it comes to the creative side of things, so why not use it where it really counts and take the credit for it?’

  ‘Oh God,’ Kirsten said, taking another gulp at her wine. He was right, this was something she had always dreamed of, but only to him and to Paul had she ever confided it. But nothing was this easy, nothing! But what was she thinking of? It wouldn’t be easy, it would be a damned nightmare – and she’d love every minute of it. And like he said, he’d be there, holding her hand every step of the way . . . Her head came up.

  ‘We’d fight,’ she declared. ‘We’d never see eye to eye.’

  ‘You were prepared to take the risk if we produced together,’ he reminded her.

  ‘But this is different. I’d want to shoot it my way and I know what you’re like, Laurence. You’d undermine me in front of the crew.’

  ‘The hell I would,’ he declared. ‘And since when have you not been able to stand up for yourself?’

  ‘In a professional capacity? Never.’

  ‘Exactly. And that’s what this is, a completely professional relationship.’

  ‘Partnership,’ she corrected.

  ‘Does that mean you’ll do it?’

  ‘I want to give it some more thought.’

  ‘OK. But should you agree I don’t want to go public until you’ve arranged the loan with the bank. Get it signed and sealed first then Dyllis won’t have anyone to lean on to turn you down. And if she pressures them to call in the loan we’ll sue.’

  ‘We will?’

  ‘We will.’

  Kirsten looked down at her barely touched food, still not too sure whether she was going to wake up any second and find herself back in Elm Park Gardens. ‘Laurence,’ she said, lift
ing her eyes back to his, ‘why are you doing this? I mean . . . Does it have something to do with the past? Are you . . .’

  ‘Everything about us is to do with the past, Kirstie,’ he said softly. ‘But as of now we’re going to change that.’

  As she looked back at him in the flickering glow of the candlelight her heart was so full that for a moment she was afraid to speak. ‘OK, then,’ she said, picking up her glass. ‘Let’s drink to us and to a great future as partners.’

  ‘I guess that must mean you’ve done that thinking you mentioned,’ Laurence teased, then promptly winced as she kicked him.

  ‘Get a good night’s sleep,’ he said when he dropped her at her house later. ‘You’re going to need it because it’s going to be one rough road from here-on-in.’

  But just how rough neither of them could ever have begun to imagine.

  ‘Dermott!’ Helena cried as she opened the door.

  He pushed past her and stormed into her cluttered studio. His sparse sandy hair was a mess, his oddly handsome face virtually quivering with rage. ‘I want you to know,’ he seethed spinning round to look at her, ‘that as of now the real battle begins!’

  Immediately Helena drew an imaginary pistol from her hip and shot him. ‘I reckon I just won,’ she grinned.

  Campbell slapped her hand down, obviously not in the least bit amused.

  ‘OK, what are you talking about?’ she said.

  ‘You know damned well what I’m talking about,’ he seethed, ‘and I just can’t believe you could be that fucking stupid!’

  ‘It had nothing to do with me!’ she protested. ‘It was Laurence’s idea . . .’

  ‘Put there by you! No, don’t bother denying it, he told me himself. When he fired me. And who got him to fire me? Kirsten fucking Meredith, that’s who.’ He clamped his stubby fingers to his hair. ‘Shit, Helena, are you out of your mind pulling a stunt like that?’

  Helena’s jaw was clenched. ‘Are you?’ she said. ‘Screwing Ruby Collins!’

  ‘You did it out of jealousy?’ he roared, incredulously. ‘What the fuck’s going on in that head of yours? With what I know about Kirsten Meredith . . .’

  ‘You’ll never be able to print that story!’ Helena shouted, half-laughing with contempt. ‘Especially not now she and Laurence are working together. Can’t you see, that means he’s forgiven her – and even if he hadn’t, just what was there to say . . .?’

  ‘Oh believe you me, there was plenty. And never, never underestimate Dyllis Fisher. If she got her teeth into that story she’d wipe the fucking floor with Kirsten Meredith.’

  ‘And you and I both know that if one word of that ever hits the papers Laurence will throw lawsuits at you faster than you can blink.’

  ‘And what about you, Helena? Do you think they’d have you on that film if they knew it was you who’d told me?’

  Helena’s eyes rounded with fear and amazement. ‘I never breathed a word . . .’

  ‘Can you prove that?’

  She stared at him. He stared back and for several moments they eyed each other with such resentment that the air between them seemed to burn with it. Campbell was the first to look away.

  ‘Shit!’ he cried, slamming his hand down on the table. ‘If you knew what I’d been through to get myself on that movie . . .’

  ‘Don’t come here looking for sympathy. You said you’d call me! Did the phone ever ring? Did it hell!’

  ‘Helena, you seem to be missing the point here! The point is that if Laurence knew the truth about you he’d never let you within a mile of that set. He couldn’t afford the publicity.’

  He reeled back as her hand lashed across his face.

  ‘Don’t ever do that again!’ he said, a dangerous edge to his voice.

  ‘Then don’t come here threatening me! Now just what is the real issue here, Dermott? Because from where I’m sitting it’s you, bleeding with jealousy that Kirsten Meredith got what you wanted – and more.’

  ‘And you helped her! Jesus Christ, how could you do that?’

  ‘I did it because I owed her. I did it because I wanted the part . . .’

  ‘I’d have given you the part.’

  ‘Get real, Dermott. You’d never have had that much clout.’

  His dark eyes flashed. ‘If I were you I’d look out for my back, Helena, because with Kirsten Meredith on board there are going to be plenty of long knives heading towards that set . . .’

  ‘You do anything to disrupt that movie and you can kiss goodbye to any friendship you might have had with Laurence.’

  ‘Laurence has already shown me where his loyalties lie.’

  Helena laughed nastily. ‘The same place as mine?’

  Campbell’s eyes bored into hers. ‘And just where do yours lie, Helena?’ he said.

  ‘You already have the answer to that.’

  ‘Are you sure? Do you want to take some time to think about that?’

  ‘I already told you once,’ she warned him, ‘don’t come here threatening me.’

  He watched her, his heart churning with emotions. He didn’t want to do this to her, but if he couldn’t have that movie then neither could she. They were all against him now, closing ranks and shutting him out like he just didn’t matter. Well that was just where they were wrong, he did matter, and by the time he was through, with Dyllis Fisher on his side he was going to do a whole lot more than matter . . .

  15

  Everything seemed to be happening with lightning speed. Neither Kirsten nor Laurence had wasted any time in contacting their banks, their lawyers and accountants and at the offices they had taken in Windmill Street just five weeks after their dinner, preproduction and recruitment was going ahead in earnest. In fact already there was barely room for everyone in the six-room suite on the fourth floor of an old Victorian building.

  The place was in sore need of a lick of paint, but now that schedule boards, cast and crew lists, first draft graphics, photographs, telephone lists and a thousand other things were finding their way onto the walls the peeling paint was barely noticeable. Production managers, accountants, line-producers, production secretaries and location managers had all moved into the two larger offices; the casting directors and assistants were just along the hall in what had probably once been a very grand bedroom; the unit publicist and her team were next to casting, and at the end of the hall was Kirsten and Laurence’s office, which adjoined a small attic type enclave that had been converted into a screening room and was also the room where they would receive the satellite link-ups with New Orleans in order to audition the American cast. Their personal assistants were in the hall itself along with four spare desks for the costume and make-up designers, stunt-arrangers and film crew to use when they needed to. The drive and excitement was such that no one found time to complain about the lack of space, but if they needed more those who could simply worked from home or took themselves off to Alison’s design offices which she had leased just around the corner in Colville Place.

  Kirsten’s time was split mainly between Ruby, Alison, and Jake, the director of photography. Jake, with his boyish good looks and incorrigible eye for the ladies, was someone with whom Laurence had worked in the past – as indeed were most of the team – and it was only with Jake that Kirsten had so far managed to build up a rapport.

  However, quite unexpectedly, Kirsten managed a breakthrough with Ruby. It came about when she was at Ruby’s flat one afternoon and happened to open a photograph album lying on the coffee table. When Ruby came into the room, toting a tray of coffee and biscuits, Kirsten hurriedly closed the album, apologizing for the intrusion. But Ruby simply set down her tray and opened the album again. Her pride in the way she had looked in her earlier years was so evident and brought about such a change in her as she gazed wistfully down at the undeniable beauty of the face that had once been hers that Kirsten was moved to ask about her life on the catwalks. Perfectly sober Ruby waxed lyrical for the entire afternoon, each photograph having its own story t
o tell, each memory softening the harsh lines that pinched Ruby’s mouth. The sun had long since set by the time Ruby closed the album, they had done no work that day – at least not on the script, but Kirsten knew that it had been one of the most valuable days they had passed so far. She had found Ruby’s Achilles’ heel and it was one she could make work for them both. She even, much to Ruby’s delight, accepted a gin and tonic and stayed drinking with Ruby until the early hours of the morning.

  This wasn’t to say that Ruby became in any way pliable after that, but at least the script debates that followed were no longer filled with the bitter resentment and jealousy Kirsten had encountered before. In fact, Kirsten was coming to enjoy her exchanges with Ruby for when Ruby was sober her mind was so acute, her ideas so innovative that it not only kept Kirsten on her toes, but served to engender a respect for Ruby that Kirsten hadn’t at all thought to find. She only wished that she herself could get the same respect from the ever-expanding production team.

  It wasn’t that everyone was set against her, but those who really mattered were dishearteningly influenced by the things Dermott Campbell was writing in his column. Laurence rarely commented on it, but Kirsten knew that Campbell’s accusations that she had managed to bewitch Laurence into giving her a position for which she was in no way qualified, irritated him as much as it did her. In fact, Kirsten wasn’t too sure if it was that that made Laurence so moody with her. Or was it, she worried constantly, that Laurence was now regretting the rashness of persuading her to take on something that everyone else was convinced was totally beyond her.

  But no matter what anyone thought Kirsten knew she was going to succeed. The fact that Alison and her art directors, the line-producers and production managers always took their queries or problems to Laurence when they should have been coming to her was something she was just going to have to suffer until such time as she had proved herself. Laurence invariably re-routed them to her, but the lack of co-operation she sometimes came up against was as wearing as it was infuriating. She didn’t want to discuss it with Laurence because she didn’t want him to think she couldn’t cope. Besides, if she couldn’t hack it here in the office, then what chance was she going to stand once they were out in the field? Just thank God for Jake, who was not only fully aware of what was going on, but flatly refused to tolerate it from his crew. And the support of the camera crew once they were out there was going to be as necessary as film in the camera.