The Spiral Path (48 page)

Rainey
awoke stiff and aching, uncertain where she was until Val asked quietly,
"Back among the living?"

"Barely." She sat up, glad
she'd taken the damned corset off while they were shooting. "What time is
it?"

"About nine in the evening."
Val looked up from the chipped, wobbly table in the corner where she'd been
working. "I figured that if you were that tired, you should rest."

"So you stood guard and kept the
world at bay. Thanks." Lurching a little, Rainey went to the dressing
table and removed her smeared makeup.

Val had placed a banana, a packet of
peanuts, and a container of milk on the table, so Rainey wolfed them down.
Preferring to shower at the immaculate hotel rather than the shabby dressing
room, she changed into her own clothes. "Ready to escape?"

"With pleasure." Val slid her
paperwork into her briefcase and stood.

"What did Kenzie do after we
finished shooting?"

"Changed and lit out of here like
his tail feathers were on fire." Val joined Rainey as they left the
dressing room. "Thank God shooting ends tomorrow, before one or both of
you have nervous breakdowns." Her voice echoed through the empty studio.

Rainey thought of the climactic scenes
that would be shot the next day. They would grind away whatever reserves she
had left. Only then could she could fly home to her little house in the canyon.
"You've called the charter company about my flight back to L.A.?"

"Your private jet shall await your
pleasure after Charles Winfield's memorial service."

"Want to fly back with me? It's no
problem to drop you off in Baltimore."

"Thanks, but I want to take
advantage of being in the British Isles. This morning Laurie and I decided to
go to Ireland for a week's vacation."

"She's fun. You'll have a good
time." Rainey glanced at her friend. "I've really enjoyed having you
on this job, Val. I ... I don't know if I could have made it through without
you."

"You've helped me pick up the
pieces of my fractured love life half a dozen times. I'm glad I was able to
help you for once."

Outside the studio door their car waited
patiently. Rainey climbed inside and sank into the seat as they began the trip
back to central London. "If I offered you a permanent job, would you take
it?"

"No." Val gazed out the
window, her brow furrowed. "This has been a great experience, and it's
motivated me to go home and make some changes. But not California, and not the
entertainment business."

"You're wise. Sometimes I think
that moviemaking is an incurable disease." Rainey smiled self-mockingly.
"The business makes me crazy, but I wouldn't want to do anything else.
Especially if I can make movies on my terms, not Hollywood's."

"The Centurion
will
make that possible," Val said confidently. "But success and wild
acclaim are months away. Tonight I have a better solution to the world's ills."

Rainey grinned. "Ice cream?"

"Right." Val fished out her
cell phone. "I'll call room service so they can get started on our dinners
right away. After you've showered and eaten, we'll find out if these Brits can
made a decent hot fudge sundae."

Feeling less drained, Rainey settled
back in her seat. Old friends and ice cream were cures for a good number of the
world's ills.

As
Kenzie opened the classic Victorian straight razor, light glittered menacingly
off the hollow ground blade. He'd borrowed the razor from the set, where it had
rested innocently among Randall's other toiletries.

In recent years, the strange form of
self-mutilation that drove people to cut themselves had come out of the closet
and onto the airwaves. He'd watched a talk show on the subject once, where
young girls rather proudly explained how the physical pain of cutting
themselves had mysteriously relieved their unbearable inner pain. He
understood, having cut himself sometimes when he was young.

He rested the blade against his arm. Not
the inside wrist, where a cut could cause bleeding to death, but higher up, on
his forearm. He imagined the razor slicing through skin and muscle. First there
would be shock at seeing the severed flesh and knowing it should hurt. Then the
pain would explode, throbbing, so overpowering that for a time it would
obliterate everything else in the world.

He increased pressure on the razor,
wondering how hard he'd have to press to break the skin. Then, exhaling
roughly, he snapped the razor shut and tossed it onto a chair. He wasn't that
hard up.

Not yet.

CHAPTER 28

D
inner,
shower, and a very respectable hot fudge sundae restored Rainey to the
point where she could watch the dailies and note the best scenes. Great stuff.
If everything came together as she could see it in her mind, they'd have a fine
movie. Not a blockbuster, but a moving, well-crafted film that should find an
appreciative audience.

But her long nap left her awake and
twitchy after Val had gone yawning to bed. Restless and wanting to stretch her
muscles, she quietly left the hotel for a walk. The killing production schedule
had meant less exercise than usual, and the sessions she'd managed had been
early and abbreviated.

As she stepped out onto Park
Lane, she drew the cool English air into her lungs. It was good to be alone and
anonymous. Brooding was more difficult when there were other people around, and
she was in a broody mood for sure.

Tomorrow they'd finish shooting the
movie. The wrap party would be that night, and the next morning, a small,
private memorial service for Charles Winfield. Then she and Kenzie would go
their separate ways once and for all.

Of course they'd see each other
occasionally in the future. There would be a premiere for
The Centurion,
probably
joint publicity appearances. Since they traveled in similar circles, there
would be casual meetings now and then. She'd pretend that seeing him didn't
make her feel kicked in the stomach, even if he had some gorgeous female on his
arm. They'd chat. Terribly civilized. Then she'd probably go to the nearest
ladies' room and throw up. Her stomach felt queasy just thinking about it.
Eventually, the pain would fade to a dull ache, but she didn't expect that to
be soon.

Loss was still a day and a half away,
though. Tomorrow she must endure her most challenging scene yet, with Sarah and
Randall resolving their problems in the bed where they'd finally consummated
their marriage. Having affirmed their love and commitment, they would decide
that their best hope for a new life was to leave England and its suffocating
restrictions and expectations. Australia was an easy choice. Randall's uncle
had settled there many years earlier, and his letters to the family described a
raw, energetic land where a man could be free in ways impossible in the Old
World.