by Susan Lewis
‘Just speak to me first,’ Laurence repeated, trying not to show his discomfort at how closely Kirsten was watching him. He handed back the photographs staring sightlessly down at her legs in their long black boots and skin tight jodphurs. Then, avoiding her eyes, he turned towards their office.
‘If you ask me he’s having an enthusiasm failure,’ Melvin remarked to Kirsten. ‘You don’t think he’s going to pull the plugs, do you?’
‘No,’ Kirsten answered, sounding more confident than she felt. ‘He’s just being cautious.’
‘Well he’s making everyone pretty edgy lately. I mean, if he is going to pull out we need to know, because some of us are turning down other work.’
‘He’s not going to pull out,’ Kirsten assured him. ‘He’s just got a lot on his mind. Now, where were we?’
For the next hour or so they went over the schedule in minute detail until Melvin complained he was starving and went to join the others for lunch.
When he’d gone Kirsten wandered towards her own office, trying to decide whether or not she really wanted to go in. She knew Ruby was there and she wasn’t too comfortable in Ruby’s company lately – not since Ruby had got God. Actually, there were times when it was quite amusing, but being told constantly to repent of her sins was becoming a little wearing, particularly when Kirsten wasn’t too sure whether or not it was some kind of accusation. Still, at least Ruby’s counselling with a priest seemed to have cured her of her coconut ravings and, to a certain extent, her dependence on gin.
She opened the door to her office and found Ruby there alone, studying her Bible. She looked up as Kirsten came in and immediately made the sign of the cross.
‘I wish you wouldn’t do that,’ Kirsten complained.
‘“Seek ye the Lord while He may be found, call ye upon Him while He is near”,’ Ruby advised her.
‘OK,’ Kirsten said, sitting down at her desk. ‘Where’s Laurence?’
‘In the screening room,’ Ruby answered, then putting her hands together she bowed her head and started to mumble.
‘Ruby, aren’t you taking this just a bit too far?’ Kirsten groaned.
‘You can’t ever go too far down the road to our Lord,’ Ruby told her. ‘And I’m saying a prayer for you here, Kirsten.’
‘Well that’s very kind of you,’ Kirsten said, ‘but it’s a bit distracting.’
Neither of them spoke for some time then, as Kirsten began checking through her script to make sure there were no shots missing from the schedule and Ruby returned to her Bible. In the end, aware of the way Ruby kept glancing over at her, Kirsten looked up.
‘Do you have something on your mind?’ she said.
‘As a matter of fact, I do,’ Ruby answered, popping a Nicorette gum into her mouth. She sat back in Laurence’s chair, resting her elbows on the arms and knitting her fingers across her chest. ‘“Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those which are before, I press towards the mark”,’ she said sombrely.
Kirsten sighed and waited.
Ruby nodded. ‘“Learn to be silent. Let your quiet mind listen and absorb”,’ she counselled. ‘Pythagorus said that,’ she added informatively.
‘Did he?’ Kirsten said. ‘Well, I’m listening.’
For a moment Ruby gazed mournfully across at her, then summoning a smile brimming with heartfelt compassion, she said, ‘The Lord has counselled me to speak. There are things Laurence don’t want to say, so I’m gonna do it for him. Hell, someone’s got to. But Kirstie, my child, if you’d had the good sense to pull out of this movie the minute we left New Orleans I wouldn’t have to be saying this at all.’
Kirsten watched her, tight-lipped.
‘Look, honey,’ Ruby said, her voice sugary sweet. ‘Laurence and I, we were working on this movie long before you came on the scene. You know that. It means a lot to us . . .’
‘And it doesn’t to me?’
‘Ah, ah,’ Ruby admonished, raising a hand. ‘Remember, “listen and absorb”. But sure, I guess the movie does mean something to you too, but for the wrong reasons. You put your dough in to get Laurence, the whole world knows that. Well you gotta know by now that that ain’t gonna happen. Not even with poor Anna out of the way are you gonna get him.’
‘Was that some kind of accusation?’ Kirsten snapped.
Ruby looked blank. Then, ‘Oh, I see what you’re getting at. No, I know there are those who reckon you were behind that terrible event,’ she said, crossing herself, ‘but not me.’ She shrugged. ‘But you’ve read all that stuff in the press and what I’m asking here is that you think about Laurence. This is his movie. He wants to shoot it but he can’t get the insurance cover this time round. Now why do you suppose that is?’
‘Why don’t you tell me, Ruby?’
‘OK. Something real weird happened that day on the set, we all know that, and you were there. Now I’m not saying you did it, I’m not saying that at all, but remember Kirsten, one day you will have to answer to the Lord. But He is a merciful Lord . . . Anyways, even if you didn’t kill the woman yourself someone’s done it and made it look like you. That don’t bode well for going out into the field with you on board again, now does it?’
‘Nobody killed Anna, she died of natural causes,’ Kirsten reminded her, trying to ignore the horrible unease that was gripping her.
‘Of course, God rest her soul. All’s I’m saying is what other people think. Now Laurence, he don’t want to fire you, he’s afraid you’ll pull out your dough if he does, but, well,’ she shrugged, ‘I guess you’re getting my drift.’
Kirsten was, only too well. And in truth, didn’t she already know it herself, it was just that she hadn’t wanted to face it. But of course they couldn’t go on with her, not when the press were doing what they were, for who in their right mind was going to be prepared to take a risk on something like that happening again?
Kirsten left the office early saying she wanted to work from home. As she left her smiles and encouragement were as bright as always and no one would have guessed what was going on in her heart. She was trying very hard not to think of how fond she had become of them all, of how she had started to look upon them as her family for she couldn’t bear to think of how much she was going to miss them, how empty her days were going to be without their laughter and support.
By the time she arrived home she was so choked with tears that the door was barely shut behind her before she broke down completely. It seemed that every time she felt she was at last getting somewhere a cruel twist in fate was waiting round the corner to snatch it all away. She was misjudged, maligned and made to feel an outcast no matter what she did. She had never claimed to be perfect, but never had she set out to hurt someone the way Dyllis Fisher was hurting her. Dyllis Fisher, the woman who hid behind her empire, never showing her face, but making sure that the power she wielded lanced to the very core.
Still wearing her coat Kirsten went into the sitting room and picked up a photograph of Paul. As she gazed down at his smiling face so full of kindness and humour, she knew that, no matter what, she could never regret the years she had spent with him. She just wished he was there now to help her through what she knew already was going to be another crisis in her life. Resentment swelled within her. A few months ago if someone had told her that she’d have to deal with all that she had, the rejection and hostility of a production team, the perversity of Laurence’s behaviour, seeing him with another woman, the horrible suspicion that she had contrived to murder that woman, she’d never have believed she could do it. But somehow she had. Somewhere, deep down inside she had found a strength she hadn’t known she possessed and in her own way she had been pulling through. But she could feel that strength ebbing away from her now, disappearing into a terrible gulf that was swallowing everything that mattered in her life. Her career, her friends and all that she felt for Laurence.
She desperately needed to speak to someone now. She wished, more than anything, that it could be Laur
ence, but how could it be when he must bitterly regret ever having asked her to work with him. His last film hadn’t done well at the box office and he couldn’t afford another failure. They were crazy, both of them, ever to have thought they could stand up to Dyllis Fisher, but was it that that was really bothering Laurence now, or was it that he just couldn’t be sure whether or not she had had anything to do with Anna’s death? As the frustration and anger surged through her Kirsten pressed her hands to her head. It seemed insane that anyone should suspect her of being responsible for what happened, but that Laurence could was so horrible she just couldn’t bear it.
She thought of calling Helena, but since returning from New Orleans they had hardly seen each other. As she thought about that, Kirsten could feel her heart contracting. She had been so busy she hadn’t made any time for Helena even though she had known that Helena was having a rough time over Dermott. Despising the man as much as she did Kirsten had found it difficult to sympathise, so how could she expect Helena to be there for her now?
Covering her face with her hands she turned to the wall and cried as though her heart would break. She was so afraid of the loneliness, so tired of the battle, but knew that both were closing in on her again and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Then suddenly, for no reason, she thought of Jane. Shy, nervous, little Jane who had told her that if ever there was anything she could do for her she only had to say. A welter of emotion flowed through her as Kirsten remembered those words, yet she knew that she couldn’t burden Jane with her problems, especially not when Jane was so close to Laurence. Besides, what could Jane do? What could any of them do? She had to let go, to take stock of her life again and sort out for herself where she went now. But first she had to speak to Laurence. There was a partnership to dissolve, finance to rearrange as well as a handover to another director. And as the enormity of it all started to sink in she could feel the dread consuming her.
‘What you’re doing is unjustifiable, unreasoned and so goddamned pitiful, Dermott, that I don’t even want to discuss it,’ Helena said lifting the phone and carrying it over to the sofa.
‘OK, so we’ll talk about something else,’ he said, ‘just let me come over.’
‘I keep telling you, no, I don’t want to see you.’
‘You’re not still thinking I had anything to do with what happened in New Orleans, are you?’ he asked uncertainly.
‘Frankly, Dermott, I don’t know what I’m thinking these days, except that to do what you’re doing to Kirsten’s reputation, never mind her life, is so disgusting, so pathetic . . .’
‘Helena! I’ve told you, I’m not writing it myself. Dyllis Fisher is doing it and using my name.’
‘And you’re letting her! For Christ’s sake, Dermott, haven’t you got the guts to stand up to her?’
‘If it were over anyone else I would,’ Campbell cried. ‘But how can you expect me to feel sorry for Kirsten Meredith when she’s got all she’s got – you included. And answer me this, do you honestly think she’s going to want to know about you once she finally books Laurence and rises to the top? She’ll forget about you, she probably won’t even bother to remember your name, then where will you be?’
‘God, you don’t know her at all, do you?’ Helena said, reaching for a cigarette. ‘She’s not like that, Dermott, in fact she’s so not like that that it makes me want to scream just to hear you say it. And let me tell you, once this libel case goes into court you’re the one who’s going to lose everything, you and Dyllis Fisher, not me. Not Kirsten either, because she didn’t kill anyone any more than I did.’
‘Well Dyllis Fisher is convinced she did. In fact she even claims she can prove it . . .’
‘Oh, do me a favour!’ Helena cried scornfully. ‘How the hell is she going to do that when even the New Orleans police department couldn’t find any evidence of murder?’
‘I don’t know,’ Campbell answered. ‘All she says is she’s going to prove it. Now when Dyllis tells me something like that you can be sure she’s pretty damned confident and she wouldn’t be going for it in the paper the way she is if she wasn’t, would she? And Kirsten’s played right into her hands by throwing those lawsuits at us because it’s a sure-fire way of getting that case reopened.’
‘Then why don’t you let Dyllis get on with it and get the hell out of it?’
‘Are you mad? I’ve got everything to lose if I do that and everything to gain if I don’t.’
‘Are you sure about that? I mean, have you thought about how you’re going to stand if Dyllis is wrong?’
‘Women like Dyllis are never wrong,’ Campbell declared. ‘Like I said, there’s no way she’d be putting herself out on a limb like this if she thought there was any chance of losing.’
‘Well as long as you’re fighting on her side, Dermott, you and I are through, ’cos I’m not standing by and watching you do this to my best friend and looking like I’m a goddamned part of it.’
‘Helena, this attitude isn’t helping to soften me up any, you know. I mean, how do you expect me to feel about the woman when it’s because of her you won’t see me.’
Helena’s head fell back against the sofa as she took a long, thoughtful draw on her cigarette. ‘But from what you’re saying, Dermott,’ she said steadily, ‘even if I did start seeing you again all that stuff in the papers is going to continue.’
‘I’ve got no control over what Dyllis does, you know that.’
‘And you say she can prove that Kirsten did it?’
‘So she says.’
Helena was shaking her head. ‘I’m not buying it, Dermott, because I just know Kirsten didn’t do it. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll see you on one condition. That you try to find out for me just how Dyllis is going to prove Anna was murdered.’
It took some time, longer even than Helena had expected, but at last Campbell agreed to give it a shot and with a smile of satisfaction Helena rang off as pleased with her subterfuge as she was with the fact that she was no longer facing Christmas alone.
A few minutes later she picked up the phone to call Kirsten. There was no answer from Kirsten’s home and she wasn’t at the production office either. Oh well, there was no particular urgency, they’d be sure to catch up with each other sooner or later and besides, when was the last time Kirsten had called her?
A yellowy warm light from the fringed lamps filled the cluttered family room with a seasonal glow. Multi-coloured fairy-lights lit up the gaily decorated Christmas tree in the corner and from somewhere else in the house came the distant sound of Tom’s little tape-recorder playing ‘Away in a Manger’. In the old stone hearth a log fire crackled and hissed adding an old-fashioned feeling to the sleepy mood of the dark winter’s night.
At that moment Laurence had his back turned so Kirsten couldn’t see his face. He was setting out cups on a tray while the coffee percolated in the corner of the kitchen. Kirsten was sitting at the table swallowing hard on the emotions rising in her heart. Despite the languor of the atmosphere there was a restlessness inside her that was making her want to run, to get as far from him as she could, yet she knew that the moment she walked out of the door all the pain she had locked inside would be released.
She averted her eyes and gazed up at the gently swaying Christmas trimmings. Knowing that this was probably the last time she would see him was like feeling a part of herself die. Outwardly she remained calm, fully prepared to stand by what she’d said five minutes ago and though she longed to hear him say he didn’t want her to go she knew, from his silence, that he wasn’t going to.
She turned to watch him as he came towards her with the tray and felt her heart turn over at the way his dark, handsome face was so taut with concentration. Catching her watching him and seeing her expression his eyebrows gave a sardonic lift.
‘You warm enough?’ he said, his voice low as though not wanting to disturb the restful ambience of the room.
She nodded. ‘Yes, thanks,’ she answered, the t
one of her voice matching his.
He didn’t speak again until he had poured the coffee, not asking how she took hers because of course he knew. Then at last, holding his cup in both hands, his elbows resting on the table, he said, ‘I’m not accepting your resignation . . .’
‘Laurence, be sensible,’ she interrupted, her voice still quiet yet mercifully steady. Dear God, was he really going to stand by her? But even if he was she couldn’t let him. ‘You and I both know,’ she went on, ‘that my involvement is what’s preventing you getting cover.’
‘Bullshit,’ he said softly.
‘Laurence, please listen . . .’
‘No, you listen. I’m not letting you walk out on me now. I don’t give a fuck about Dyllis Fisher and her vendetta. You’re the one who’s made this movie work. It’s as much a part of you now as it is of either me or Ruby – and if you listen to that woman again . . .’
‘She told you she’d spoken to me?’
‘She told me. And I told her what I’m telling you now. That I make the decisions around here as to who’s hired and fired. And I am not firing you, neither am I accepting your resignation.’
‘I’m not pulling out my investment,’ Kirsten said, lifting her cup then replacing it without drinking. ‘So you don’t have to worry about that.’
‘I’m not. I know you won’t pull out, because I know you won’t let me down. And neither am I going to let you down. I’ll get the insurance and we’ll start over.’
Kirsten was shaking her head. ‘For your own sake, and for mine too, I have to leave. It’s the only way to stop this press speculation, it’ll give Dyllis Fisher what she wants and like I said, the insurance companies . . .’ For a moment her voice faltered, but swallowing hard she made herself go on. ‘I’ll wind things up as neatly as I can so that there won’t be too much of a problem for whoever takes over and after that – other than a return on my investment,’ she smiled, ‘I want no further involvement. Now, that’s my final word on the subject, so please, don’t let’s argue.’