by Susan Lewis
Kirsten’s expression turned to one of irony. ‘You’re taking the problems with you,’ she reminded him.
He nodded and as his smile disappeared he looked past her towards the gloomy castle perched on the hillside.
‘What’re you thinking?’ Kirsten asked after a while.
He didn’t answer for some time and as the minutes passed his frown deepened. Then, as he looked down at her again, Kirsten had the startling and overwhelming feeling that he was about to kiss her.
She waited, meeting his gaze and silently daring him to give in to the urge she could almost feel him fighting. God, how she wanted to discard her principles and feel the hardness of him at that moment. They were so close, their lips only inches apart, their eyes locked in wordless combat, each challenging the other to give in. Kirsten shivered as the surface of her skin tingled with awareness, her hands were like lead weights yearning to be lifted yet were too heavy, too awkward to move. For those timeless moments it was as though they were alone on the hillside, oblivious to the commotion of the set only feet away, unaffected by the mewling cry of the wind as it wrapped itself around them as though to push them closer together.
‘You look lovely,’ Laurence murmured, then suddenly his eyes closed and he groaned as though in anguish, but the groan rapidly turned to laughter which made Kirsten laugh too.
‘You’re doing just great, you know that?’ he told her.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘I reckon we’re gonna have our work cut out over there in New Orleans,’ Laurence remarked, and from the way he was looking straight into her eyes Kirsten knew he wasn’t just referring to the film.
‘Yeah, I reckon we are,’ she said quietly. ‘But I think I can handle it. What about you?’
Laurence’s bottom lip came out as his eyes danced with humour. ‘Yeah,’ he nodded. ‘I reckon I can. But, hey, no hanging around here in Ireland. Get finished and get out there smartish ’cos I can handle it a whole lot better when you’re around.’
‘You can?’ Kirsten teased.
Laurence laughed, then winking at her he turned towards Alison who was heading in their direction. Shit, this was hard, he was thinking to himself. Much harder even than he’d expected. He badly wanted to make love to her again, but how the hell was he going to do that without getting himself involved more deeply than he’d be comfortable with. If it were any other woman he wouldn’t be thinking twice, he’d just go right ahead and screw her, but Kirsten was going to read a whole lot more into it than he wanted her to. But, hell, keeping himself in check was proving so goddamned difficult when these past few days he’d only had to look at her to feel himself start to get an erection. He knew her resolve that they didn’t sleep together during the shoot would be as easy to shatter as it would be for him to give in to his desire, but he didn’t want her thinking that they were going to be an item again when he had every intention of hanging on to his freedom.
Kirsten had wandered over to the stunt co-ordinator who was lining up the horsemen for the next shot. Jake was with him and as usual he greeted Kirsten with a resounding kiss, and as usual Kirsten chided him for his lack of respect. She listened as he explained what was happening, they changed several positions, pulled in three more horses then after blocking the scene through David yelled out for everyone to start setting up for a take.
Kirsten was on her way to the location caterers to get herself a coffee when Laurence pulled his car to a halt on the dirt track leading to the main road and waved her over. By the time she got there Tom was hanging out of the back window, holding out his arms for a kiss. Laughing, Kirsten gave him as big a hug as she could then after uttering a few encouraging words to Anna she turned to Laurence. But before she could speak he said so that only she could hear,
‘Have a word with your friend Helena before you get to New Orleans. I want this voodoo rubbish knocked on the head.’
‘I intend to,’ Kirsten told him, hiding her exasperation at his ever-changing moods. His expression was as black as the thunderous clouds and his irritation was equally as evident. Still, with Ruby Collins in the back seat and Anna Sage in the front she didn’t suppose she’d be any too happy herself. ‘Anything else before you go, oh lord and master?’ she quipped.
A flicker of amusement sparked in his eyes and Kirsten knew that he was thinking of the private games they had once played. She pursed her lips in a smile. The chemistry leapt between them so strongly at times it took only one word, one movement, for it to spring into life, but on this occasion Laurence turned abruptly away. ‘No, nothing else,’ he said. His eyes returned briefly to hers. ‘Nothing at all,’ he added and as Kirsten looked down at him curiously he pressed hard on the accelerator and the car sped off.
20
‘Oh come on, can’t we drop it now?’ Helena grumbled, adjusting her seat to lie more comfortably. ‘I told you it was a joke, how the hell do I know how to make a goddamned whammy doll?’
‘I’m not saying you do,’ Kirsten said. ‘I’m just asking you not even to mention it in front of Anna. Or Ruby. Laurence is relying on you to try and calm them both down. Though if you ask me Anna’s faking her fear. In fact everyone thinks she is. She just likes playing the damsel in distress and having big strong Laurence take care of her.’
‘Yuk!’ Helena muttered. ‘Anyway,’ she said, yawning and settling deeper into her seat, ‘I take it there’s no truth to the rumours? They’re not having an affair?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Kirsten answered. And she didn’t. How could they be when Laurence was behaving the way he was with her?
‘So, how are things doing between you two?’ Helena asked. ‘Any progress?’
Kirsten smiled. ‘Yes and no,’ she said. Then she groaned, ‘I have to tell you, Helena, seeing him every day and feeling the way I do is a living hell. I told you what happened outside my hotel room, didn’t I? Yes, of course I did. Well, since then I’ve kind of come to a decision.’
‘Which is?’ Helena prompted.
‘I’m going back on all I said before and if he makes one more approach to me I’m not going to do anything to stop him. No, I know what you’re going to say, I never have stopped him, and believe you me I despise myself for being so weak. But I have to accept the fact that I can’t resist him so the next time anything looks like it’s going to happen I’m going to come right out with it and tell him exactly how I feel about him.’
‘You are?’ Helena said, evidently impressed.
‘I am. I’m almost positive he feels the same way, at least sometimes I am and I thought that maybe if I came clean about my feelings it might encourage him to come clean about his and that way I can get on with things without tying myself up in knots about what might or might not be going on in his head.’
‘Sounds reasonable,’ Helena commented.
‘I just hope I’m right,’ Kirsten went on a little less confidently. ‘I mean, I know there’s no problem with regard to the sexual side of things, but as to whether or not he’s in love with me . . .’
‘Of course he is,’ Helena interrupted. ‘Any jackass can see that.’
Kirsten laughed and squeezed Helena’s hand. It was exactly what she’d wanted to hear.
She rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. As happy as she felt the ambiguity of his parting words had been preying on her mind ever since he’d left and they were in danger of taking on a meaning that she longed to escape. But she couldn’t, and by now she’d lost count of the times she’d asked herself if perhaps she hadn’t got it all wrong. Maybe the chemistry between them lived only in her mind. Was the certainty that they would get together in the end merely wishful thinking on her part? The way he sometimes looked at her, was she only seeing what she wanted to see and blinding herself to the reality? Perhaps he was simply stringing her along, playing with her, teasing her . . .
Suddenly she sat forward in her chair and pulled her script from her bag. She was aware of how easy it was for her to
fall victim to her insecurities and she just wasn’t going to let that happen. It was a shame that she couldn’t handle her feelings as well as she was handling the film, but that was no reason to dwell on them.
After changing planes in New York, then again in Atlanta, they were at last approaching New Orleans. Kirsten was just about all in, but was nevertheless looking over the storyboard Alison had left with her. Jesus Christ, she was thinking to herself, they had one hell of a lot to get through in New Orleans. The cast was going to multiply and the technical requirements would be sure to stretch the budget to its limits, if not beyond. Right now she didn’t want to think too much about that, but it was something she and Laurence were going to have to take a long hard look at once she arrived. She turned to Helena and found her watching her with a curious expression in her eyes.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she asked.
Helena shrugged. ‘Just wondering how you manage to keep going.’
Kirsten smiled and put aside the storyboard. ‘To tell you the truth, I love it. As difficult as it sometimes is to control my emotions I wouldn’t change things for the world. Honestly, when I saw the rough cut in London . . . Well, I can hardly describe how I felt. Laurence had already seen it, he called me right after . . . He doesn’t enthuse about things as much as I do, but I knew he was pleased, more than pleased.’ She laughed softly. ‘I’m really glad you’re here. I missed you when I was in Ireland.’
‘That’s good to know,’ Helena smiled. ‘I missed you too. I can’t tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to getting started myself. We’re going to have a lot of fun over here.’ Her smile was so mischievous that Kirsten’s eyes started to dance.
‘I’m warning you, Helena,’ she said, ‘if you do anything to give me the heebie-jeebies . . . No, don’t look at me like that, I know you, I’ve worked with you before, remember? One iota of encouragement from the crew and you’ll come up with something to put my hair on end while we’re doing those night shoots, but if you do, I’m warning you, I’ll be making a voodoo doll of my own.’
Helena squeezed her hand. ‘That’s something I hope you’ll never feel the need to do,’ she murmured.
An hour or so later they were checking into the Richelieu Hotel. The welcome Kirsten received from the receptionists who remembered her from the recce was so warm it was almost embarrassing. She looked fondly around the faded splendour of the baroque lobby and felt her heart contract as she remembered the day Laurence had virtually ordered her to his room. Suddenly the nerves she felt at seeing him were affecting her badly.
Jake and the crew came in behind them and despite how tired they all were after the long flight he insisted that they have a quick drink before going to their rooms. The dark, long bar just behind the reception was, as usual, half filled with locals who were engrossed in the TV screen where the Saints were playing. The conservatory adjoining the bar was dark, but the swimming pool beyond was lit up. Everything was just the same – not that she’d expected anything to have changed, it was simply that as they’d driven in from the airport she’d started once again to get that uneasy feeling about New Orleans.
After downing a glass of cold beer and refusing Jake’s offer of dinner, Kirsten and Helena took themselves off to the lift. ‘You know, I might change my mind about dinner,’ Helena remarked, patting her hair in the mirror as they began the journey up to the fourth floor. ‘Where did they say they were going?’
‘Brigstens.’ Kirsten started to laugh. ‘You know sometimes, Helena, you’re so transparent . . .’
Helena grinned. ‘Well come on, even you have got to admit that Jake Butler is pretty damned gorgeous. All that baby blond hair and those sexy brown eyes . . .’
‘Make him the heart-throb of the entire unit,’ Kirsten finished for her. ‘But as far as I know he’s happily married.’
‘Shame,’ Helena grimaced, standing aside to let Kirsten walk out ahead of her. ‘What number are you, by the way?’
‘Four-oh-four. About three doors from you.’
‘Kirsten! Is that you?’
Both Helena and Kirsten turned to see Alison bearing down on them in a blaze of luminous pink plastic.
‘Where on earth did you get that outfit?’ Kirsten cried, holding up a hand to shield her eyes.
‘Great, isn’t it?’ Alison laughed, giving them a twirl, ‘and look, it’s all held together with velcro,’ and with that she tore the upper-part away to reveal a matching bra with tassles swinging from the points of the cups.
‘Wow! That’s fantastic!’ Helena gasped. ‘I’ve just got to have myself one.’
‘Down in the French market. Forty dollars,’ Alison told her. ‘It’s driving everyone wild.’
‘You don’t say,’ Kirsten remarked dryly.
‘I do, but anyway, have I got news for you! Gossip! Gossip!’ She gave a shudder of glee and pulling Kirsten and Helena around the corner and away from the lifts she said, ‘The Simpering Sage has cracked it! She and Laurence have been at it morning, noon and night ever since they got here. I’m telling you they’re screwing themselves brainless. Laurence can hardly keep his eyes open during our meetings and Ruby . . . Shit, the fireworks!’
Helena was already looking at Kirsten and it was all she could do to stop herself slipping an arm around her shoulders when she saw the strain in Kirsten’s face.
‘How do you know?’ Kirsten faltered.
‘Christ, it’s hard not to know!’ Alison cried. ‘Oh God! Look! See what I mean?’ And she nodded excitedly for Kirsten to look behind her. Half way down the corridor Laurence was coming out of one of the rooms. Anna was with him, but ventured only to the threshold where she gave him a lingering kiss on the mouth before he took her arms from around his neck and walked off in the opposite direction.
Without giving herself time to think Kirsten called out after him. He turned, and when he saw her standing there in the dimly-lit corridor, so obviously having seen what had happened, his discomfort was evident.
‘There are things I need to go over with you,’ Kirsten said, biting out the words, ‘if you can find the time.’
‘I have the time,’ he bit back.
‘Good. Perhaps we can meet in an hour.’
‘I’ll be in my room,’ he barked and abruptly turned to walk on.
‘Ooops, seems like more fireworks on the way,’ Alison giggled. ‘Anyway, better rush. See you later,’ and she was gone.
‘Kirstie?’ Helena said carefully.
‘Please, don’t say anything,’ Kirsten muttered.
‘Come on, let’s get you to your room.’
‘I’m not a fucking invalid,’ Kirsten snapped, when Helena made to take her arm.
‘OK, OK, I’m sorry,’ Helena said, drawing away. ‘I reckon you’d better have yourself a stiff drink.’
But when they reached Kirsten’s room after unlocking the door Kirsten turned to Helena saying, ‘I know you mean well, and don’t think I don’t appreciate your concern, but really, right now, I’d like to be alone if you don’t mind.’
Helena studied her face, searching for the tears she felt sure wouldn’t be far away, but to her surprise there was no sign of them. ‘OK,’ she said, hesitantly, ‘but you know where I am if you need me.’
Kirsten closed the door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes in the darkness and pushing her head back into the solid wood. This couldn’t be happening, she was telling herself, it couldn’t be true. But it was, she’d seen it with her own eyes. He was sleeping with that stupid bitch of an actress and he was flaunting it in the face of the entire crew. Which could only mean that her recent misgivings had been correct. Everything she had felt growing between them had been in her imagination. He had been playing with her, leading her on to believe that something would happen between them and all the time he’d known what effect he was having on her.
‘What a fool!’ she seethed, tears squeezing their way through her tightly closed eyes. ‘What a damned fool I’v
e made of myself!’
Reaching out a hand she fumbled in the darkness for the light-switch. When she found it she immediately hunted around for the mini-bar. But no! The hell she was going to be drunk when she confronted him. She wanted her faculties intact, and he’d just better come up with some damned good talking to get himself out of this one. For a moment the pain and jealousy was so intense it was all she could do to stop herself screaming. She wanted and needed him so badly that the very thought of him even so much as touching Anna was too much to bear. But she couldn’t cry, she couldn’t go to him with eyes that betrayed her hurt, even though in that moment she didn’t know that she could face him at all.
And in the end she couldn’t. It wasn’t only that she was afraid to, it was that she really didn’t see what purpose it would serve to confront him. He’d made his choice and she was just going to have to live with it. But how she was going to get through the next four weeks dealing with Anna Sage on a day to day, almost minute to minute, basis she just didn’t know.
It was eleven o’clock when Laurence called. ‘I thought you wanted to see me,’ he said.
‘No. It’s late and I’m tired,’ Kirsten answered, her heart so weighted by pain and betrayal her voice was thick with it.
‘I see. Well, if there’s nothing . . .’
‘There’s nothing, Laurence,’ she said, ‘nothing at all,’ and she replaced the receiver.
‘OK, let’s take it from the drive up,’ Kirsten shouted, clapping her hands to try and break through the noise around her.
‘Stand by for another rehearsal!’ David boomed into the loud-hailer. ‘Reset the carriage! Main cast in first positions!’
‘Am I delivering my first line as I get out of the carriage or do I wait until I’m on the sidewalk?’ Helena asked.
‘Start speaking as your foot hits the ground,’ Kirsten answered. ‘We’ll go in with your turn for a close up on Anna. But play the scene through to the end.’
‘Got it,’ Helena said and lifting her long, drab skirts she hoisted herself back into the landau.