Sins of Sarah (20 page)

'Do you?' The hazel eyes had widened into pools and he was definitely drowning.

'Love you?' He paused, finally facing the inevitable. 'Yes, Sarah, I think I probably do. Not. . .' he hesitated, searching for the right words '. . . not in the same way as my family, I admit, but I love you enough to want this to go on.'

Sarah threw herself into his arms. 'Oh, I wanted you to say that. I couldn't bear not to see you again.'

'You will see me, I promise. Just as often as we can manage without hurting Charlie.'

'Poor Charles. Was he very angry with you?' she asked, remembering his anguished face.

Nick shrugged. 'He'll get over it - I hope. Now he knows, there's not a lot we can do about it. Still, we've been fighting over ladies since we were five! I seem to remember blacking his eye over Liz Saunders at one point. We were all of nine, I think!'

That made her giggle with delight. 'It's a good job he didn't come back last night when we were in the garden,' she commented. 'He really would have had a shock! Now, what do I wear?'

'Typical female! Leave your jeans on. Rupert breeds racehorses; he'll doubtless have you on one before the afternoon is over.' He kissed her slowly, and then released her so that she could finish dressing, approving her silk shirt, but fastening an extra button. 'Some things I want to keep to myself,' he said firmly. 'Rupert is enough of a lech as it is!'

Suddenly Sarah noticed the film can. 'Are those Friday's rushes?' she asked, and he nodded.

'Do you want to watch them? We have time.' 'I'm not sure I want to . . .' She hesitated. Sarah had always hated watching herself on screen.

'Try it,' he suggested. 'You might even like them.' She doubted that very much, but she followed him down to the basement room Charles had turned into a cinema years before. He still preferred to run a movie than watch TV, so the equipment was expensive and up to date. Consequently Nick used it every day to view his rushes.

Charles, his composure back together, joined Sarah as Nick disappeared to load up the projector.

The first few shots were straightforward; she only tensed when the third shot appeared. Nick had printed four of the twelve takes, and she was only too aware of Charles's intake of breath as the first one came up. She had to admit the lighting and soft, smoky atmosphere made it look good.

'That's beautiful!' he breathed as Sarah realized that on the second take the rearranged lighting had indeed made her clothes transparent. With a sinking heart she slumped further down in her chair and watched the afternoon's shoot float in front of her.

Charles was engrossed. Nick seemed to be coolly making notes, and she wriggled with embarrassment, watching herself and James making love with seemingly total abandon. Nick only seemed to react when he heard her scream in the last take, since it was a cry he had provoked often enough in the last couple of days, and he finally realized how close to real it had been that afternoon. Sarah felt the bile rising in her throat and she fled the room in panic. She only just made it to the cloakroom before she threw up.

Weak from the effort, she slumped over the basin, coughing and choking, wiping her streaming eyes, until she managed to go up to Nick's room and tidy herself up. It was there that Nick found her, hunched on the floor in his bathroom, her face hidden in the chair seat, after he and Charles had searched everywhere downstairs and all around the garden.

Anxiously, he gathered her up in his arms, cradling her against his shoulder as in vain he tried to convince her that the scene would look much better after editing. But Sarah was not to be persuaded.

'It makes me look like a total whore!' she protested. 'How could you do this to me. Nick? How could you? It's like nothing is left out!'

'Sarah, some of those shots are the most beautiful I've ever seen in a love scene. I'm not taking them out. They're far too good.'

'Even though I'm begging you?'

Nick hated seeing the distraught face raised to his, and he kissed her eyelids over eyes bright with tears that this time he knew were genuine. 'I love you, Sarah, very much,' he said. 'But the way I edit has nothing to do with that. You'll have to trust me as a professional director; it's that simple really,' he told her finally.

It was not simple at all in her book, but she had to be content with it. Nick was not going to be manipulated or charmed into changing the scene, and she was too much in love with him to quarrel with him any more.

* * *

The Saunders did indeed seem delighted to meet her. They were jolly and welcoming, and Sarah felt she had known them for years in a few minutes. Both Charles and Nick had known them since childhood, and all three men were a similar age, with Liz just a year or two younger.

Broad-hipped and rosy-cheeked, her dark hair held back in an Alice band, she had a booming laugh that rang out frequently, and a wicked tongue when she let fly. Rupert, almost as tall as Nick, had the chunky build and healthy outdoor glow of the farmer he was. His main occupation now was breeding horses, at which he was very successful, and naturally he and Charles soon fell into a horse-orientated conversation over pre-lunch drinks.

Their ten-year-old son Jonty sat gazing at Sarah with eyes full of hero-worship while they talked - until she noticed him. And then Nick watched with pleasure as she drew him out until he was chattering furiously, dragging her off to see his new puppies. There were always new animals to see in the Saunders house.

They all laughed when Jonty brought Sarah back and announced, 'I'm going to marry Sarah when I grow up!'

'Join the queue!' said the three men in unison.

* * *

'Nick is outrageous!' declared Liz as Charles's Range Rover disappeared down the drive some hours later. 'He could barely keep his hands off that child for five minutes. I don't know why Diana lets him get away with it.'

'If Diana punts off with Mummy and Daddy for two months at a time she only has herself to blame,' said Rupert. 'You know as well as I do that Diana only wants Nick around for his money these days. And you can't blame Nick for fancying Sarah Campbell! I'd have a crack at her myself given half a chance!'

'If you did you would have nothing left to fancy her with,' Liz responded quickly.

'Charlie didn't like it either. She must be something to have both of them panting after her.' Rupert sighed. 'Sounds like the Natasha saga all over again.'

'I certainly hope not,' Liz said grimly. 'I wouldn't want to live through that again. Charlie had a heart attack over that woman. Another one would really finish him!'

'Natasha was unstable and delicate, not to mention being a total bitch!' Rupert pointed out. 'And Sarah Campbell is certainly none of those. She rides like a dream as well. I'm afraid I only remember the rows those two had over Natasha.'

'Do you remember how she set fire to her dress at the Hunt Ball once, when she'd had a row with Nick?'

'Yep, and the callous bastard threw her in the lily pond and told Charles to get her out,' Rupert reminded her.

'I suppose Nick was a bit of a swine in those days,' Liz sighed.

'He still is at times,' Rupert said. 'But I must admit he was a damn sight more relaxed today than I've known him be in a long time.'

'I wonder how long it will take Diana to catch on to this one?'

'If he's as indiscreet everywhere else as he was here, not long.' Rupert grinned. 'And there are enough people around that he's been foul to over the years to make sure she does find out.'

* * *

But Nick Grey was a seasoned veteran at the secrecy game. In the past his few indiscretions had mostly gone undiscovered, and, relaxed as he had been with the Saunders, he was determined to protect Sarah from gossip and the Press.

At work, he was his usual self, critical and arrogant as ever, pushing her to the limit in the ever more difficult scenes they were doing. Occasionally she yelled back at him, when he really tried her patience, but most of the time she shrugged it off. Rarely during the day did he touch her, or spend more than a few minutes in conversation with her in front of the crew, though she soon realized that he hated to see her joking and larking about with them and the other actors.

She was quickly getting used to long drives in the Porsche, and the luxury of his expensive way of life. Nick's lifestyle was totally different from hers and he lived well - to the limit of his income most of the time. Sarah was soon rushing out to buy new clothes to keep up with it all, finally enjoying the pleasures of clothes-buying, and always trying to find new ways of doing her hair to disguise her appearance when they were out in public.

Her whole life had changed. It revolved completely around Nick and his demands on her time and energies.

Once away from the set, and the eyes of the unit. Nick was relaxed and loving, wanting to show his feelings in a way that was totally new to him. Though previously inexperienced where sex was concerned, Sarah had quickly blossomed, now as eager to make love as he was, and ready to learn and experiment, confident of her ability to please him. Drawing her out was a complete pleasure to Nick. He found himself longing for the week-ends, when she would belong to him and not be shared with the devoted crew.

But it was the crew who rose to her defence when the Unicorn printed a piece of sly innuendo after a week or so of skirmishing with their reporters.

The Unicorn had finally been given the photographs Nick had taken on set in the morning scenes of James and Sarah, carefully chosen to reveal very little, but Max Moreton had made the most of it in almost a full-page piece, hinting at Sarah's lust for her co-star, despite his new girlfriend, and commenting on the reality of their love scenes. Sarah and James laughed at that, but it was the last paragraph that really shook Sarah.

For once discretion got the better of her, and she flew to Nick almost in hysterics.

'Look at that! They can't print that, can they?' Nick read with growing fury.

Rumours of ill feeling and arguments abound on the set of Home Leave however, between Nick Grey and his new young protegee. They apparently spend much of their time fighting furiously and further developments are awaited eagerly!

'The whole thing makes me sound so awful,' wailed Sarah. 'And it's not even true. Okay, Nick shouted at me and I was upset, but that's all . . what can we do?' Alex was appalled. 'Leave it to us!' he declared firmly, and within an hour a letter signed by the entire crew, supporting and defending Sarah, was emailed to the Unicorn. The gesture touched Sarah deeply, especially as she hadn't spent so much time with them lately, so wrapped up had she been in Nick.

'I just hope they don't go too far the other way now,' Nick said in trepidation, when the Unicorn printed the letter in full. 'We'll have to be bloody careful in Chagford.' They had spent several weekends in a cottage owned by a friend of his on Dartmoor.

'We never get out of bed in Devon,' Sarah pointed out, laughing. 'But maybe we'd better not go out to eat.'

'I said be careful, not starve to death!' Eating out was a pleasure to Nick, even after many years of doing so and he still delighted in finding new restaurants. Chagford was particularly well served by several of his favourites.

Sarah loved the tiny cottage, though they were both in permanent danger of cracking their heads on the low doorways.

The Friday night drive to Dartmoor quickly became an integral part of her life, even if she and Nick did differ violently in the choice of cassettes in the car stereo. A meal in the pub was a weekly ritual on their arrival, before they retired to the huge brass bed in the tiny dormer-windowed bedroom. On Saturday mornings Sarah was trusted enough to take the Porsche into Chagford to shop while Nick worked on a new script.

'Definitely a measure of my love,' he'd joked, the first time he'd let her take it. 'But just try denting it, and our last row will be a conversation in comparison!'

'That would really give the Unicorn something to print!' Sarah giggled. She had bought a tapestry to occupy herself while Nick worked, but somehow very little of it got done. By the time they had eaten lunch they were always both ready to return to their bed for the afternoon, only rising to go out and eat.

It was precious time. Lying in each other's arms, making love when the mood took them, they talked for hours, probing deep into each other's memories and thoughts. Nick smiled at the revelations of the little Guildford schoolgirl, secure with her ponies and ballet classes, and Sarah learnt a great deal about Nick's lonely childhood, about the solitary Army child travelling between school and the bases all over the world where his father had commanded during his career.

Nick found he was telling her things he had never spoken of before, much to his own surprise, and bringing to light the close if volatile relationship between him and Charles.

The only person he never talked about was the mysterious Natasha. Sarah was wild with curiosity about the beautiful girl in the portrait, but however often she tried to bring the subject up. Nick skilfully avoided it.

It was her turn to surprise him one Sunday morning, when she announced that she was going to early-morning communion. 'It's the anniversary of my parents' death,' she told him. 'I make a point of going then.' Nick took one look at her unhappy face and elected to go with her. Being married to a Catholic, he rarely went to an Anglican service nowadays.