Seductive Viennese Whirl (32 page)

"A bathroom," I say, looking round. "I don't believe this! And to think I froze my tits off this morning, washing in that kitchen."

"Well of course the Schloss has bathrooms," says Eva, running her eyes over her script.

"And the taps, you're telling me they actually work?"

"Of course they do. McManus and I had a bath here yesterday."

"When?"

"Alex took us over while you were snoring away. Look, can we stop talking about bathrooms? I'm in the midst of a major crisis." She waves her script in front of my face. Five minutes as an actress and already she's acting the prima donna. "Ravi promised he'd go over my lines but he hasn't even popped his head in."

"Why don't you ask Shamila to read them and you can read them back to her?" Eva looks doubtful, but I give her hand a little squeeze. "Trust me. You'll be fine."

Eva opens her mouth to protest, but I turn on my heel. I can't be bothered with all this. I'm still pissed off with Alex for withholding the information about the bathroom. I'm standing there fuming when Shamila walks over to Eva and starts to dab foundation on her face. Bizarrely, it looks like the two of them are actually going to get along, despite the fact that Eva's going to be French kissing her boyfriend. Amazing.

Running out the door I bump into Ravi, who instructs me to help the prop man transform the tower room into a boudoir. First I almost break my back carrying some chaise longues up the stairs and then I spray some old hessian sacks gold to resemble embroidered tapestries, and tack them up on the walls (Shamila's character spends most of her lonely life embroidering). Because there are arctic drafts flitting in through gaps in the ancient window frames, the prop man hides some little fan heaters around the room. Even when they're all on full blast they barely make a dent in the cold and I find myself pitying poor Shamila, who will have to strip off in such primitive conditions.

The props guy asks me to have a good root around the Schloss for some feminine bits of decor to fling around the room, so I go back down and start searching through the bedrooms. In one room reddish colour bleeds through a film of dust weighing down the bed. I grab hold of the bedspread, which turns out to be velvet, and give it a good shake. As I sneeze violently due to the clouds of dust puffing up around me, I'm surprised to find two pristine brocade cushions nestled beneath the cover. They shimmer pinky-mauve, and look so delectable that I pick them up and stuff one under each arm.

As I get back to the tower room I see that Alex is there, handing out sandwiches to the crew. Because I'm still feeling a bit put out about him not telling me he had a gorgeous clean clawfoot bath I blurt, "Hey, you. What's the big idea about making me wash in the kitchen?"

He stares at me, eyes wide, but doesn't reply. Wierdly enough, he seems to be mesmerized by the bedspread and cushions I'm carrying.

"Where did you get this stuff?"

"I don't know. One of the rooms. Why, what's the big deal?"

"Yes, yes," says the props man excitedly, taking the rosecoloured bedspread from me and holding it up. "This is marvellous."

Alex tears the bedspread from his hands, and takes the cushions from me. "You can't use them," he says and storms off. Since he'd given us carte blanche to take whatever we needed to dress the set, his change of heart is a mite perplexing. While the props man is cursing him under his breath Shamila swans in and perches herself delicately on a chaise lounge, like a budgie on a swing. Ravi barks an order and at last it's Lights, Camera, Action. Despite the fact that this is one of the lowest budget films ever to make its way onto celluloid I feel trembly with excitement as I watch Shamila stabbing the life out of a piece of cloth with her embroidery needle, a solitary tear rolling from a heavily kohled eye. She mimes to a plaintive song, evidently about the hell of being trapped in a tower with no hope of escape when Eva bursts in, or rather, bursts out of her low cut crimson dress. Her red silk cape flying behind her, cleavage atremble beneath a heap of jet necklaces Eva attempts her lines, in Hindi, in a lacklustre drawl. Even I can tell they lack passion.

Ravi's told the cast he doesn't have enough film stock to do more than three takes for each shot. Surely Eva will crack under that sort of pressure. But surprisingly, after a tête-a-tête with Ravi, by the third shot she's nailed it. With a lively inflection, she tells a surprised Shamila that she's to accompany her to a dinner party that night. One of the crew holds up prompt cards at her eye line but she seems to have memorized the lines. Shamila must have helped her.

The next scene takes place in the ballroom, which has undergone a makeover, and is now carpeted in burgundy carpet with filmy golden drapes at the windows. Anil enters the room and takes his place beside Shamila and Eva at a table heaving with posh guests, cut glass goblets and elaborate silverware. When it comes to delivering his lines, his eyes keep drifting in the direction of Eva's cleavage. He stutters. He blushes. Even after the third take he's fluffing his lines while Ravi grows red as a beetroot with fury. And of course, when Shamila sees where Anil's eyes are roving she gets all hysterical and starts mucking her lines up too. Close to tears she breaks down in the middle of a scene and runs off set while the cameras are still rolling. And this time she's definitely not acting.

Ravi rushes over, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

"I was a mad man for thinking I could pull this thing off."

I shrug. "You know what women are like. Shamila's jealous because Anil keeps giving Eva the eye, but I can assure you Eva wouldn't give him the time of day. She's madly in love with McManus."

"The big man with the red nose? You make a joke?"

"I'm absolutely serious. Look, why don't you go and calm Shamila down and then we'll take this thing from the top," I say, feeling I was born to work in films. That this is my destiny. I can already see my name on the credits,
Artistic consultant, Kate Pickles
. Maybe this will be a springboard for a career as a Hollywood set designer, I'm thinking, as Ravi leaves the room, only to return a few minutes later to tell the assembled company that Shamila has taken off in the van.

"Oh," I say, my dreams of becoming a Hollywood big shot going up in smoke.

"I think we will have to wrap it for today," he says. "Alex has kindly invited us to his cottage for dinner."

As we stomp across the frozen snow, everyone lapses back into Hindi. I can tell the conversation's about Shamila, even though I don't understand a word. There are bleak faces among the crew. It's also pretty sad that, despite Shamila's outburst, Anil is still gawping at Eva like a love sick fool.

I feel like punching him.

After dinner, even though a snowstorm is swirling from the sky, Alex drives them all back to the pension. McManus and Eva crawl up to their love nest while I lie down and doze on the divan, jumping awake as the door bangs shut. Alex comes in, looking tired and cold. He huddles next to the stove and tells me Shamila is back at the pension, hopping mad and threatening to fly back to India.

"Can't imagine they'll be many planes taking off in this weather," I say, trying to be cheery because he looks like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He's been acting funny ever since he found me with those cushions.

He gives a wan smile. "I'm going to bed."

"What about the washing up?" I say, gesturing at the huge pile by the sink. I don't know what prompted me to say something so totally banal. I only knew I didn't want him to creep off to his room before we'd cleared the air. "I'll wash, you dry." I thrust a tea towel into his hand.

"Okay," he says, looking at me like I'm nuts. "But I don't see why it can't wait ‘til morning."

I turn on the hot tap, relieved that the water coming out of it is actually hot, and start soaping up the plates. Then I hand them to him, one by one, and he wipes them, slowly, methodically,

When I can't stand his silence a moment longer I blurt, "Have I done something wrong? Because if I have, I wish you'd tell me."

He picks up another plate, dries it slowly, inch by inch.

"I'm sorry I flew off the handle earlier." His voice trails off.

"Yeah, what was that about?"

"Well actually, it was because … well, that bedspread and those cushions, they were what she was lying on when I found her."

"Found her? Found who?" And as soon as I've said it I realize his face has gone greenish white and that actually, I'd much rather he didn't tell me. By which time he's already gone and said, "Anya's body."

Anya? His sister? How could she be dead? When he'd told me they were no longer in touch I'd thought he'd severed contact because he couldn't cope with her being an addict.

"What happened?" I say, then bite my lip. "Sorry. None of my business."

He scratches his head, and his eyes cloud over. "No, it's all right. I was living in Frankfurt at the time and for a couple of weeks before it happened she kept calling. Said she was going to kill herself. Can't say I paid much attention. She'd made the same threats before. This time she begged me to come home. I put it off for as long as I could and when I finally did come back, mother was out for the evening. And Anya was ..." He shrugs.

"I try and avoid going to the Schloss these days. It's stupid, but every time I pass her room I start thinking about her, what I should have done, what I could have done. How I could have prevented her from taking that heroin overdose."

He puts down the plate he was holding, balls up the tea towel and throws it on top the plate.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. Oh, for God's sake, Alex. Why did you tell Ravi he could go ahead and film at the Schloss?"

"Because I wanted to help out I suppose." He walks toward his bedroom. At the door he turns slowly to face me. "You're welcome to sleep in here you know. Well, good night." And with that he closes the door behind him. I finish washing the dishes, my mind filled to bursting with the horror of what I've just found out. Then I creep into his room and curl up in a foetal position on the bed.

That night I have a reoccurring dream about his sister. She's leaning against a heap of cushions, blonde hair obscuring her face. As I draw her hair aside I see pale green eyes, staring out at nothing. Glassy. I think she's dead, until she gives out a peal of laughter. One of her eyeballs detaches from its socket and starts to roll down her cheek, leaving a trail of blood and muscle. I keep waking from the dream, then being dragged back down into it. I wake exhausted.

Today, day two of my seduction countdown for Alex (what a joke!) Eva and I hang around the cottage waiting for the crew to come back, but they don't. In the morning, Alex goes shopping in the village. On his return he makes rack of lamb and apple strudel for lunch. McManus is all for packing his bags and taking the next flight home, but I ask him to wait.

On the third day Ravi comes back with Shamila and the rest of his crew. Ravi is not a happy bunny as he reshoots the dinner party scenes. This time Anil and Shamila manage to get their lines straight by the second take. Nevertheless, by the end of the day Ravi realizes he's out of film stock. One of the crew is dispatched to Vienna to pick up some more while everyone else goes back to the pension.

On day four Ravi and the gang don't show up again. I guess the film stock hasn't arrived yet. Alex is still giving me the cold shoulder. I thought after that night he opened up about his sister I might have made a little headway. But he's retreated into his shell and I don't think I've got the energy to coax him out of it.

Day five. New Year's Eve. I ring Ravi in the morning. He informs me that the film stock place is closed for the holidays and will not open until tomorrow. I decide the only thing to do is to start drinking. Alex provides ample supplies of Veltliner and seems to be loosening up a bit, so I ask him if I can help him with the cooking. I really enjoy him standing behind me showing me how to roll pastry. Okay so I played a bit dumb. God help me, wouldn't you? I'd been sleeping in the guy's room night after night, and was by now desperate for any kind of physical contact. His chest brushing my back is enough to keep me hopeful for another few hours.

Things go pretty well until he gives me the task of chopping masses of onions. I end up in tears, my makeup streaked down my face. I cry so much I have to stop and let him finish making the goat's cheese and onion tarts.

We eat the tarts and some divine mousses made up of layers of white, milk and plain chocolate. I had three. As I get drunker I'm convinced Alex is flirting with me, that tonight's the night. He'll insist I sleep in his single bed with him, apologise for being distant. Seducing Alex, that's the only wish I have this New Year' Eve.

Some time in the early hours we go into his bedroom. He sits on his bed looking at me. I sit on my bed looking at him. He gets up. I get up. I tell him I'm just going to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I don't want skuzzy teeth to ruin our first kiss. I even spritz on some perfume. But when I go back in he's fast asleep. Happy bloody New Year.

Day six is our last. We leave tomorrow. We could stay longer and McManus could easily buy us new tickets, but by now, none of us think this film will ever be made. Ravi surprises us by arriving with the film stock and goes into overdrive, filming a bunch of scenes in quick succession. McManus, looking more wound up than ever, stands at the door to the tower room. He's puffing on a fag, clenching one fist watching Eva do her kissing scene with Anil. Shamila was watching too, lips pouty with discontent. But she managed to keep herself in check.

The kiss ends up being pretty darned sexy. It looks like they get the kiss pretty perfect the first time, but Eva insists on doing it three more times. McManus can't bear to look and goes and sits in one of the bedrooms, but I keep watching. It's so steamy, even Ravi doesn't complain, although it's eating into his fresh supply of stock. She looks dazed when the scene finishes.

"You looked like you were having a good time," I say.

"That's because I was. What a kisser. My lips still feel all tingly," she whispers into my ear.