Sally Wentworth - Set the Stars on Fire Page 4

  `Lewis?' Dean gave a slight shrug. `I guess he just got out of bed the wrong side this morning. He's usually a pretty good-humoured guy. Still, I guess making a film is a nerve-racking job when you've got the financial backers breathing down your neck, and especially when one of your stars quits and you have to re-shoot with an ——‘ he broke off hurriedly.

  `An unknown? Why be embarrassed to say it' It's perfectly true,' Lori said rather bitterly. He shrugged. `Even the biggest stars were unknowns once, Lori.' And he went off to het himself a drink of Cake from the ice-box.

  Lori went to stand in the block of shade cast by an angle in the high wall and closed her eyes while she waited for the cameras to be got ready again. She put her hands flat against the wall, feeling the stone, hot and solid against her skin. They had stood for so long, these walls, had been built with such hope and purpose by men who had expected to carry on their way of life through countless generations. If she closed her eyes tight she could almost see them walking down the ancient streets in the rich panoply of their arms and tunics, almost hear the sound of swords clinking against armour. Slowly, Lori began to absorb the atmosphere of the past until it filled her mind. It was as if she pushed the present out of her brain and became the character she was to play. It was an ability-some would say a gift—she had, which lifted her out of the common sea of budding actresses and had gone a long way towards the successes she had had on the stage. It was something she found easier in the theatre because you naturally played a part from the beginning to the end, but with television it wasn't so easy because, like this film, scenes were so often shot out of sequence and it was hard sometimes to get the feel of the part. But now she concentrated, imprinting the character deep into her subconscious, and when the sharp noise of the clapperboard sounded for the next take, she wasn't nervous or afraid any longer. Lewis Brent didn't exist; no one existed except herself and Dean in the parts they were playing.

  And this time it went perfectly from the moment they turned into the street until they reached the point where Dean, as Sir Richard Gretton, told her he was going to make her his servant and pointed towards his quarters. When Lewis Brent's voice called 'Cut I' it was almost like a magician snapping his fingers to bring her out of a trance. She jumped a little and blinked, again aware of everyone around her. With some trepidation she turned to look at the director, but he merely nodded to his assistant and said, `Okay, let's get on to the next scene.' No words of praise, of course, for having got it right. But then, Lori thought wryly, she hadn't really expected any, had she?

  In her next scene she was forewarned and was able to go and stand by herself for a few minutes just before the scene was shot and was again able to think herself into the part, and as it was in the same costume it didn't take very long, but the third scene necessitated a change of clothes and she was taken back to the house to be dressed in a page's outfit, to be re-made up and to have another wig fitted. It all took quite a time and when she finally emerged on the set she found that the lunch wagon had arrived in her absence. No one, of course, had thought to bring her a lunch-box and when she went over to it all they had left was lukewarm coffee in a plastic beaker and doughnuts.

  When Lori looked round she saw that Dean was sitting with some other men and playing cards, so she took her coffee and doughnut and found herself a corner in the shade where she carefully hitched up the tunic of her costume and sat on the ground. She had a vague idea that the lead parts in a film were entitled to a chair with their name on it, but perhaps., that was a myth, because there didn't seem to be any on this set. The crew and cast were predominantly male, with only her own and one or two very minor roles being filled by women. There were a few other women in the wardrobe and make-up departments and some secretaries and assistants in the production office, of course, but there were only the script girl and Lewis Brent's secretary who were permanently on the set. These two were now in animated conversation together and resolutely ignored her. Lori noted rather sourly that they had a couple of fold-up chairs and were tucking into the prepared lunch-boxes and a bottle of wine.

  During the lunch hour a couple of taxis drove up to the set and several members of the crew who had been playing at another location joined them. Tony Rodgers was among them and he came straight over to her.

  'You look like Little Jack Horner sitting in the corner,' he grinned.

  Lori pulled a wry face. 'Well, I envy him his Christmas pie. It had to be better than this,' she said, indicating her scrap meal.

  He squatted down beside her. 'How's it going?'

  Answering with determined cheerfulness, she said 'Oh, fine. We've shot two scenes already. Aren't you working today?'

  'Yes, we've been rehearsing a fight scene on the ramparts with the stunt coordinator, but we won't do the actual shooting until tonight. I think you're having some of your scenes there this afternoon, aren't you?'

  Lori nodded and he went on, 'How are you making out with Lewis?' He spoke lightly but was unable to keep the ardent curiosity out of his voice.

  She shrugged. 'As you said, he's a hard taskmaster.' She would have liked to say a whole lot more, to unburden herself of the active dislike that was quickly growing into hatred of Lewis Brent, and if she had been sure of a sympathetic ear she probably would have done so, but although Tony was overtly friendly something made her hold back, to keep her feelings to herself.

  'Driving you hard, is he?' Tony prompted. 'No more than I need, I suppose,' Lori countered, resisting his obvious wish for her to confide in him.

  `And Dean Farrow? How do you get along with him?'

  `Oh, he seems nice,' Lori answered readily, on safe ground here. `I like working with him.'

  Seeing that he wasn't going to get any more out of her, Tony started to talk about his favourite subject—himself, and told her about his part as one of the

  French knights. `They kill me off half-way through the siege, but at least I get to die gloriously,' he added, exerting his charm to make her laugh.

  After the lunch break he took himself off and everyone was driven up to the ramparts of the old fortifications where the rest of the scenes that day were to be shot. When Lori climbed up the steep steps to the top of the high walls the sheer size and immensity of them took her breath away. In the two hundred years in which the Knights of St John had owned Rhodes they had dug a huge dry moat with inner and outer fortifications of huge bastion walls with large round towers at intervals. And from where she stood she could see that the ancient walls formed an immense circle, bordered on one side by the sea where it' guarded the two harbours of Le Port and Mandraki, the latter where the great bronze statue of the god Helios, the Colossus of

  Rhodes, was said to have straddled the entrance to the harbour in the third century B.C.

  The filming that afternoon would have gone well as far as she was concerned if it hadn't been for little things that held up production and called Lewis Brent's wrath upon her head. Things started to go wrong when she put down a wine pitcher she was supposed to be taking to Dean and when she went to pick it up to shoot the scene she couldn't find it. Everyone had to look for it and it was finally found on the ground, half hidden by a shield. Naturally she got the blame for being careless, but Lori knew that someone had moved it on purpose to get her into trouble. Then a man, one of the small part players, deliberately tripped her during a crowd scene.

  By this time Lori's nerves were beginning to fray, but a stubborn streak made her hold on to her temper and somehow carried her through to the end of filming, even though several more niggling little incidents occurred.

  No one was more pleased than she when Lewis Brent called 'Cut!' for the last time and they were able to pack up for the night. She was left to take off her costume and remove her make-up alone, the members of those departments had gone long since, and when she emerged found the set deserted and quiet. She sat for a little while by herself, feeling exhausted and letting all the hurt that the day had brought ebb away, then she got a taxi bac
k to the hotel and ate alone in the now almost empty restaurant. Afterwards she tried to change her room, but was told that the hotel was fully booked for the whole of the season and there wasn't anything else available. Resignedly she accepted this, too weary to care whether it was true or not, and went up to try and learn her lines for the next day's filming. Somehow she got through the next two days, although by the end of each day's heavy schedule she felt like a zombie, what with intense concentration on her work and lack of sleep. Whether Lewis Brent was pleased with her work or not, she couldn't tell, for although he would say a word of praise to Dean or other actors, he never had one for her. But at least his sarcasm had diminished and he didn't seem to pick her up for every little thing as he had on the first day. Lori clutched thankfully at this thin straw, and was also grateful for the apparent friendship that Tony offered her. He was, the only one to seek her out in between filming and she was so pleased to have someone to talk to that it never occurred to her to question his motives. Often when they sat together Tony would put an arm negligently across her shoulders, and although Lori didn't particularly like it, she didn't obviously try to push him away; she knew that it was a habit of his to assume a proprietorial role whenever he was with a girl and she didn't think much about it. If the truth were told, she even welcomed it a little., especially when she saw Lewis Brent's cold grey eyes on them. At least he would know that she wasn't completely alone and friendless.

  After filming on the third day she shared a taxi back to the hotel with Dean Farrow and was surprised when he asked her to go out for a drink at a local taverna after dinner. He seemed to enjoy the company of the other men in the cast and she had heard that he had the reputation of being a bit of a hell-raiser, often rolling up at the hotel in the early hours more than a little drunk.

  She hesitated, but when he said, `There's quite a few of us going along,' she shook her head determinedly.

  She was just too dog-tired to face an evening with people who had either ignored her completely or tried their best to upset her during the last three days.

  But it was Saturday night and the noise from the night-club finally drove her out of her room and down on to the terrace of the hotel. There was no filming tomorrow, thank goodness, and so no lines to be learnt tonight, which was just as well because her head ached so much that she didn't think she'd be able to concentrate. A waiter came up to her and she ordered a drink of the local retsina, hoping it would help her to sleep. There was no one else from the film crew about; presumably they had all gone into town or to one of the many night-clubs in the area to live it up a little. Lori suddenly felt very alone again and almost wished she had accepted Dean's invitation; anything would have been better than this.

  So she felt almost grateful when Tony Rodgers appeared on the terrace and immediately crossed over to her.

  'So this is where you hide yourself away. I've been looking all over the hotel for you. I thought you might have gone out with Dean Farrow.'

  'He asked me to,' Lori admitted, 'but I was too tired.' Then she added ruefully, 'I intended to have an early night, but my room is right under the nightclub, unfortunately.'

  'Oh, I see.' Tony dropped into the chair beside her. 'Well, if you can't sleep, how about coming for a stroll along the beach for a while? There's something I'd like to talk to you about.'

  Lori looked at him rather suspiciously, but his manner seemed completely open and serious, and she couldn't help wondering and hoping that he was going to tell her why everyone in the crew, was treating her so hatefully. If she knew why, then she could at least try to put things right. Making up her mind, she said quickly, 'All right, I'll come,' and hastily finished her drink.

  There were steps down from the terrace that led to a broad, tree-lined walk leading to the road running parallel to the sea which you had to cross to get to the beach. There were Lamp-posts set at intervals along the walk, throwing pools of light that illumined the hibiscus flowers and turned them to a strange, drab colour. They passed several people as they strolled along because the walk was used as a short cut by hotel guests returning by taxi or bus from the town; they preferred to be dropped off at the main road and walk up through the gardens rather than have the 'ttaxi wait to drop them at the busy entrance to the hotel.

  Tony seemed in no hurry and talked about Rhodes and the film as he ambled slowly along. Lori was impatient to hear what he had to say, but realised that he would probably try to get the most dramatic effect out of it and would keep her in suspense as long as he could. It was one of the things that had most put her off him before and he was unlikely to have changed, so she just had to content herself with making small talk as they sauntered down the long, straight path. They were within sight of the road now and Lori saw another taxi draw up and a man get out. For a moment he was in shadow, but there was something vaguely familiar about his tall, broad-shouldered figure.

  But Lori hardly had time to realise that it was Lewis Brent before Tony suddenly hurried her into a pool of light and said harshly, `This is what I wanted you for,' and pulled her roughly into his arms, holding her so tightly, and taking her so completely by surprise that she couldn't move. His mouth fastened on hers fiercely, and then he caught both her wrists in his left hand, leaving his right free to roughly yank the strap of her dress off her shoulder and fondle her exposed breast.

  Lori tried desperately to break free, but Tony always kept himself fit and he held her body hard against his own so that her struggles merely looked as if she was moving sensuously against him. She heard Lewis Brent's footsteps walking briskly along the path, then hesitate as they came near. Deliberately Tony turned her so that the director was sure to see who it was and exactly what Tony's free hand was doing to her. She heard a sharp exclamation and looked over Tony's shoulder to find herself staring into Lewis Brent's face-a face stiff with disgust. Then he turned his head away and walked sharply on up the path.

  It wasn't until his footsteps had faded completely that Tony let her go at last.

  'You louse! You knew he was coming. You set this up!' Lori hit out at him with one hand and tried to pull her strap up with the other, tears of frustrated anger in her eyes. 'Why? Why did you do it?' But he caught her wrist and twisted it cruelly. 'Because you kept me out of work for weeks, that's why, you bitch! As soon as I found out that you were going to be in this film I determined to get even with you for what you did to me!'

  Lori stared at him aghast. 'Is it because of you that everyone in the crew's been so horrid to me? What have you done? What have you said about me?' He laughed jeeringly. 'Oh, I didn't have to start anything, your reputation was already in the dirt without my help. I merely let everyone know that you were everything they already thought you were-and perhaps added a little more mud in the process,' he added tauntingly.

  Lori felt herself grow cold and stared up at him. 'What are you saying? What do they know about me?' He laughed again, thoroughly enjoying himself. 'Just the truth about how you got this part, that's all.'

  Lori's voice was little more than a whisper as she said, `But I was offered the part by the producer. He'd seen my- work on television.

  'Oh, sure!' Tony jeered, his handsome face twisted by hate and jealousy. `The connections you've got with the film industry and you expect anybody to believe that?' He was still holding her wrist and he twisted it again before letting her go.

  Automatically Lori began to rub where he'd hurt her.

  `If you're referring to my godfather, then you're wrong, totally wrong. I've never taken advantage of his position to further my career. I made it clear to him right at the beg inning that I'd either succeed or fail on my own merits, and he's always respected my wishes. Believe me,' she said vehemently, `if I had had his help it wouldn't have taken me so long to get where I am but there wouldn't have been any pride in what I'd achieved either. But you knew that! You knew that I've never let Uncle Nick help me.'

  `Uncle Nick!' He made the name sound like something dirty. `I knew you've said he'
s never helped you, but everyone here knows that he threatened to with draw his company's backing for the film unless you were given the part.'

  `But that's impossible,' Lori retorted. `The producer. of The Siege assured me that it was his own private company making the film.

  'Oh, don't pretend to be naive,' Tony said sarcastically. 'How could a small film company produce an epic like this without backing from one of the major companies? And your Uncle Nick, as you call him, just happens to be the executive Vice-President of that company !

  Lori was visibly shaken by this, but was adamant in her protestations. 'I tell you you're wrong; the producer probably doesn't even know that he's my god father.'

  "Tony's mouth twisted into a thin smile. `You're right, he doesn't. The whole crew, from Lewis Brent down,' lie emphasised, 'only know that a middle-aged executive insisted that you get the part-perhaps even arranged for the original star to quit just so that you could replace her. And overrode all Lewis Brent's suggested alternatives and his objections to working with a completely unknown actress. Seems he even threatened to fire him unless he accepted you,' he went on, his voice silky now. 'But Lewis wanted to do this film so badly, had already been working on the pre-production side for the last six months, that he finally had to accept you-and he didn't like that at all, not one little bit.' Lori's face had gone very white and her hands had clenched into fists at her sides. She had already foreseen what was coming, but nothing was going to stop Tony from his moment of sadistic enjoyment as he gave her the final blow.

  'Naturally everyone wondered just why the Vice President should be so insistent on having you in the film. And there was only one reason they could think of,' he said nastily. 'That you were his mistress, and he was so besotted by you that he let you persuade him into giving you the part. Or blackmailed him,' he added. 'Quite a few thought it could be that.' 'I see,' Lori said tightly, a feeling of revulsion rising in her stomach at his insinuations. 'And you, of course, didn't choose to enlighten them?'