Vengeance

by Susan Lewis

  Still, just so long as she remembered to delegate, to listen to other people’s ideas and stand by her own when she thought she was right she’d make it through. But what she wasn’t going to make it through was this absurd breakfast.

  ‘Tea,’ she said to the waiter, handing him her menu. ‘And you can take that stupid look off your face,’ she told Laurence who was grinning.

  ‘I’ll have the Eggs Hussarde,’ Laurence said passing over his menu. ‘And more coffee.’

  ‘But what about the other four courses?’ Kirsten cried. ‘Don’t you want a nice Southern baked apple with double cream? Or what about the bananas sauted in butter, flambé-ed in rum and served up with a nice dollop of ice-cream? And surely you’re not going to miss out on the brandy milk punch?’

  ‘I’ve read the menu, thank you,’ Laurence responded. ‘Eggs Hussarde will do me fine. And I’m hungry,’ he informed her, ‘so don’t think you can start picking at my plate.’

  ‘I’ll just have a forkful, see what it tastes like,’ Kirsten said.

  ‘Waiter! Waiter,’ Laurence called, ‘make that two Eggs Hussarde, will you?’

  Smiling to herself Kirsten turned to look out the window letting the burble of morning diners and clatter of crockery wash over her as she tried not to contemplate the day ahead. A few moments of relaxation was what she needed before getting started on the mammoth task of conveying her requirements for the scenes they were doing here.

  ‘Shame it’s raining,’ she commented a few minutes later, ‘we could have sat out there in the courtyard. Pretty, isn’t it?’

  ‘Very. We’ll be seeing a lot of courtyards over the next few days, the town’s full of them and you know Ruby’s made good use. By the way did you – Kirsten, what are you doing?’

  ‘Having a cigarette,’ she answered, putting one in her mouth and lighting it.

  ‘You don’t smoke.’

  ‘I do now.’

  ‘Put it out,’ he said, grabbing it from her and stubbing it in the ashtray.

  ‘Do you mind?’ she protested.

  ‘Kirsten, you don’t even know how to smoke so stop making an idiot of yourself.’

  ‘And stop behaving like you were my father. Now, I want to talk to you about the brothel scenes.’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘Well, we still haven’t really decided how far we should go with the nudity and seeing as we’ll be meeting the cast this afternoon I thought we should make a decision so that we can put it to them.’

  ‘Are you asking me for the go ahead on full frontal?’

  ‘No. I don’t want full frontal.’

  ‘Tits and ass?’

  Kirsten’s lips pursed at the corners. ‘You’re so eloquent at times.’

  ‘I know. But my guess is what you’re worried about is how far we go with the sex?’

  She nodded. ‘The script calls for quite graphic and unusual positions. I was taking a look at it last night and I’m afraid we might lose something of the passion – and the comedy – if we don’t show a certain amount.’

  ‘So what amount are you suggesting?’

  ‘Well to begin with I’d like to see breasts being fondled in the parlour of the brothel. Not a great deal, but enough to tell us that this really is a place where anything goes.’

  ‘I got no problem with that. How are you intending to shoot it?’

  ‘On the wide, I think. I’ll see when we get there. Close ups are too much of a statement and I want it to be casual. Anyway, it’s the bedroom scenes that are more important. How do you feel about a naked woman on all fours?’

  Laurence’s hand moved to his mouth as he rubbed his fingers along his jaw trying to disguise his smile. ‘Depends which angle you’re shooting her from,’ he answered.

  ‘Top. Camera’s on the ceiling for the wide.’

  ‘Why the ceiling?’

  ‘It’s a point of view shot. Rochette’s up there getting his kicks – and his blackmail material.’

  Laurence nodded. ‘I’m with you. What happens to the woman?’

  ‘Haven’t you read the script? Ruby’s idea was that she was dealing with two men at the same time. And both men enter into shot rather than start in shot.’

  ‘That’ll be tricky on the wide if they’re bare-assed.’

  ‘That’s what I thought, so I’ll have to go in for closeups then cut back to the wide once they’re in position. That’ll mean a bit extra in the script to cover the cutaways.’

  ‘Dialogue?’

  ‘No. In fact I don’t need to bother Ruby with it, I can just put the shots in myself. All I’m saying is there’ll be a slight change of emphasis.’

  ‘OK. I’ll leave it up to you. Have you thought about how you’re going to handle the big love scene between Anna and Jean-Paul yet?’

  Kirsten nodded. ‘Total nudity. I’ve discussed the lighting with Jake, the music should be real lazy blues in sync with their movements to give it a surreal, kind of balletic quality. Lots of close ups and small pans. Mouths on breasts, fingers spreading across legs and buttocks, tongues in mouths, you know the sort of thing.’

  ‘Yeah, I got the picture,’ Laurence murmured, his blue eyes watching her closely.

  Kirsten didn’t dare look up at him. The lowering of their voices, the intimacy that was moving around them was having a disturbing effect on her. ‘A lot of passion, a real closeness, eyes locked together . . .’ she went on quietly. ‘Her legs around his waist, her hands in his hair . . . I’d like to get the moment of penetration in big close up on her. The whole thing will be very erotic, it should have a beauty and a grace that both characters find as overwhelming as the act itself. This isn’t sex now, it’s love . . . Real love . . .’ She glanced up to find him staring down at his coffee, his face impenetrable. ‘I guess,’ she said softly, ‘I’m going to draw on the way we used to make love.’ The instant the words were out she froze. Of course that’s what she’d been thinking, but not for a second had she intended to say it. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said hastily. ‘I didn’t mean that. What I meant was . . . Well, it’s just sometimes you need to draw on your own experiences . . . Please, forget I said it.’

  ‘It’s forgotten,’ Laurence said, getting to his feet. ‘Hi, you must be Little Joe.’

  Kirsten looked up at the short, mischievous looking man who was shaking Laurence’s hand.

  ‘That’s me,’ Joe said cheerfully. ‘And you got to be Laurence. And the lovely lady here? I guess you got to be Kirsten?’

  ‘Hello Joe,’ she said, taking the hand he was holding out to her.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ Joe chuckled. ‘Had to drive my kid to school. Anyways, you folks ordered yet? Oh, sure you have,’ he said, as the waiter set down Kirsten and Laurence’s eggs. ‘I’ll take one of them,’ Joe told the waiter. ‘And some coffee. So,’ he went on, rubbing his hands together. ‘How you liking N’Awlins?’

  ‘We haven’t seen much of it yet,’ Kirsten answered, giving Joe her whole attention. She was stinging with embarrassment at what she’d said and right now couldn’t bring herself to look at Laurence. In fact she was sorely tempted to give this little man, who had been performing miracles over here on their behalf, a hearty hug for his timely arrival.

  ‘Well, I got plenty sights lined up for you to see,’ Joe told them. ‘Still working on the cops for the road closures, but it won’t be a problem. Your girl Alison’s faxed over the designs, I got the construction guys working on ’em as of today. Do you want we go over to the studios later? No, you’re seeing the actors. OK, tomorrow’ll be just fine. Got plenty of office space for you. Screening room’s there, costume store, we got the lot. I thought right after breakfast we could go see Marie Laveau’s tomb. What do you say? You can make a wish, see if the old voodoo queen’ll make your dreams come true?’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Kirsten smiled, ‘but we’d better take a look at the locations we’re actually shooting before we start sight-seeing. The location manager gave us a list of what you’ve organize
d. We start with the Corn Stalk, yes?’

  ‘Yep. It’s just along the street here. That’s gonna be your brothel, right?’

  Kirsten nodded, wishing that the day’s recce had a somewhat different structure. ‘Tell me, Joe, have you discussed any of the brothel scenes with the cast?’

  ‘No, ma’am. That little pleasure can be all yours.’

  ‘Yes, well, let’s just hope I make a better job of it than I did just now,’ Kirsten remarked, throwing a quick glance at Laurence.

  ‘Did you get the costings for the locations yet?’ Laurence asked Joe, his eyes fixed firmly on Joe’s face.

  ‘Sure did. They’re back at the studios, but I can get my girl to fax them over to your hotel.’

  ‘Get her to fax them to London then the accountants can give me a full picture,’ Laurence said.

  An hour later Kirsten and Laurence wandered out on to the street which was by now much busier than when they had arrived. Thankfully the rain had stopped, but the air was dank and smelled of seafood, salt and horse-droppings. Kirsten watched as a horse in a flowery straw hat passed them pulling an open carriage containing a party of three tourists and a wizened old driver.

  ‘I’ll bet Tom would love to ride in one of those,’ she commented.

  ‘Yeah, I guess he would,’ Laurence answered tightly.

  Kirsten frowned as she turned to look up at him. ‘Are you still pissed off with me for what I said?’ she hissed.

  ‘Don’t create a scene in the street,’ Laurence muttered under his breath.

  ‘I’m not creating a scene. I’ve apologized for saying it so can we –’

  ‘I told you, it’s forgotten,’ he snapped.

  ‘Then why are you looking like you just ate a lemon?’

  Laurence’s eyes were steely, but as Kirsten cocked her head to one side waiting for his response, a reluctant smile started to twitch at his lips. ‘OK, you hit a raw nerve in there and you know it,’ he said.

  ‘And now I’ve got to pay for it?’

  ‘Look, Kirstie, this isn’t easy for either of us. We know how good we were together once and we’d both be liars if we . . .’

  ‘OK, you guys,’ Joe said, putting on his coat as he came out of the restaurant. ‘Where we meeting up with the rest of your crew?’

  ‘At the Corn Stalk,’ Kirsten answered still looking at Laurence. Then suddenly they both started to laugh and Joe, not knowing what the hell he was laughing at, put his arms around them and started them off down the street.

  The rest of the day turned out to be impossibly hectic and fraught with confusion. The meeting with the actors was postponed due to the location and technical problems that were constantly arising and with more than forty people, all of whom had questions that Kirsten spent half her time winging the answers to and the other half silently cursing Laurence for the way he was undermining her, she felt at times that she might scream. He was so supremely confident in all he did, handled everyone with a skill that she knew she lacked, that she could almost hate him for his arrogance as much as she detested him for making her think of him when she should be concentrating on other things. But though he might be better at hiding it than she was she knew that he was thinking about her too.

  The rain came and went, the sky was dismally grey and the mood of the crew was about as cheerful as the grisly masks in the voodoo museum. They broke off around six to go back to the hotel, shower and change and get warm before going off to City Park to take a look at Scout Island where they were to shoot most of the night scenes.

  Kirsten had been in her room for no more than five minutes and was on the point of stripping off her wet clothes, when she heard a barely audible knock on the door. Since she and Laurence had exchanged words on the way back to the hotel she wasn’t in the best of moods. So, hoping it was David, the assistant director, or Janet Bentley the know-it-all costume designer, she yanked open the door.

  ‘Kirstie!’

  Kirsten’s eyes closed as she swallowed her words and started to smile. ‘Tom,’ she said, stooping down to his height as her heart brimmed with affection at the beaming smile on his face. By now she had met him several times and each time she saw him she could feel herself becoming more and more attached to him. What was more, he seemed to have taken a real liking to her too. He’d even sat with her on the plane until he got tired and went to curl up on Laurence’s lap. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she said.

  ‘Jane told me this was your room,’ he answered. ‘I can read numbers.’ He pointed up to the figures on the door and said them backwards.

  ‘Does Daddy know you’re not in your room?’ Kirsten asked him.

  ‘We went on a steamboat today,’ he answered. ‘I pulled the chain that made the horn go.’

  ‘So that was you making all the noise on the river, was it?’ Kirsten teased, trying not to laugh at the way he so deftly managed to avoid questions he didn’t want to answer.

  He nodded. ‘They said it was called a whistle, but Jane said I could call it a horn because it sounded like one.’

  ‘Tom!’ Jane called from the doorway of Laurence’s suite. ‘You told me you were going to the bathroom.’

  Tom turned his wide blue eyes back to Kirsten. ‘I can go to the bathroom on my own,’ he told her earnestly.

  ‘Can you?’ Kirsten laughed, hugging him to her.

  ‘Come on young man,’ Jane said, holding out her hand. ‘Daddy’s about to get in the bath and I thought you were getting in with him.’

  Scooping Tom up in her arms Kirsten carried him the short distance to his room. ‘Did you enjoy your day?’ she said to Jane.

  Jane nodded excitedly and Kirsten was once again struck by how child-like Jane was when dealing with adults, yet how adult when dealing with Tom. It was a shame in a way, Kirsten was thinking to herself, that Jane had become so attached to Laurence and Tom when what she so obviously needed was to find someone of her own and become a real mother. She might really begin to blossom then.

  ‘You’re going out again later, aren’t you?’ Jane said.

  Kirsten nodded. ‘In about an hour.’

  ‘I wish I could come, but it’s too late for Tom and Laurence said we’ve got to keep out of the way of the crew.’

  ‘Well, not all the time,’ Kirsten smiled, knowing how uncomfortable Laurence had been at bringing Tom on this recce. But she knew too that nothing would have persuaded him to leave Tom at home – having been abandoned by one parent Laurence wanted to make sure that Tom was never in any doubt that his Daddy at least would be there at the end of every day.

  ‘The girl downstairs has given us a list of lots of things to do,’ Jane said. ‘And Daddy’s given you some dollars, hasn’t he?’ she said to Tom. ‘So we’re going to do some shopping in the French Market tomorrow.’ She turned back to Kirsten. ‘Is there anything I can get for you?’

  ‘Oh, that’s kind of you,’ Kirsten said, slightly taken aback. ‘Um, I’ll give it some thought and let you know in the morning, OK? Maybe a couple of T-shirts or . . .’ she broke off as the door opened wide to reveal a lovely little indoor courtyard filled with potted plants.

  ‘Tom,’ Laurence said, avoiding Kirsten’s eyes. ‘Are you taking a bath with me, ’cos if you are I want you in there now.’

  ‘Off you go!’ Kirsten said, dropping a kiss on Tom’s cheek as she handed him over to Jane.

  ‘I’ll see you in the morning then,’ Jane said to Kirsten.

  ‘Can I put my steamboat in the bath, Daddy?’ Tom asked climbing into Laurence’s arms as Jane disappeared inside.

  ‘Sure you can.’

  ‘It hasn’t got a horn,’ Tom told Kirsten solemnly.

  ‘Never mind,’ Kirsten said, ‘I’m sure Daddy can find you one.’

  Laurence grinned. ‘Don’t suppose you’d care to join us?’ he said with a sardonic lift of his eyebrows.

  ‘Oh yes!’ Tom cried.

  Kirsten was staring at Laurence, so amazed by what he’d said that she couldn’t help w
ondering if he actually realized he’d said it.

  ‘I want to have a bath with Kirsten,’ Tom declared. ‘Please, Daddy, can I have a bath with Kirsten?’

  Laurence turned to look at him. ‘No, I don’t think so, soldier.’

  ‘But you said . . .’

  ‘I know what I said. It was a joke, Tom.’

  Tom turned his eyes back to Kirsten. ‘And not one of Daddy’s better ones,’ she remarked.

  Laurence grinned.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Helena said, rocking the bed as she turned on her side to face him. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to see you, it’s just that I’ve given Kirsten my word.’

  ‘So Kirsten rules your life?’ Campbell said sourly.

  ‘At the moment, yes. She and Laurence stood by me . . .’

  ‘Because I gave them no choice.’

  ‘Dermott, you had a choice when it came to printing that story. You needn’t have done it.’

  ‘I’ve explained that,’ he said. ‘I wrote it just after the last time I saw you. I was bloody furious and if I didn’t get the movie then you weren’t going to either. But I’ve made it up to you now, you’re still on it, your side of the story’s been printed, so let’s forget it, eh?’

  ‘OK, but I’ve got to stand by my word.’

  Campbell laughed but his eyes darkened with lust as Helena lifted herself up and knelt over him. ‘You’ve been here three times since you gave Kirsten your word,’ he said, taking her breasts in his hands.