Voice of the Heart (69 page)

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Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford

BOOK: Voice of the Heart
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‘You betcha, Nicholas. I haven’t given up on you yet,’ she giggled. Then she stared hard at him, and her face changed,
filled with unfamiliar sincerity. She said, in a gentler tone, ‘So very sorry, Nick. About your sister.’ She did not wait for a response, but sailed off, waving to Alan Medbury, the unit publicist, who was talking to a camera man, crying, ‘Toot toot! Pip pip, Alan!’

Nick looked after her, a mixture of surprise and chagrin seeping into his eyes. He had not expected a show of sympathy from Estelle, and he felt a small twinge of guilt about his sarcastic jab at her a moment ago.

‘Over here, Nicky!’

Jake Watson’s voice echoed hollowly across the relatively deserted sound stage, currently occupied only by a sprinkling of technicians. Nick swung around, raised his hand in brief salute. He edged between the cameras, klieg lights and sound equipment, carefully stepping over the snaking lengths of cable, making his way to Jake, who was standing in a corner talking to Jerry Massingham. Drawing nearer, Nick saw at once that both men looked gloomy and depressed. This was par for the course with Jerry, who always appeared to be carrying the troubles of the world on his shoulders, but not affable, imperturbable, dapper Jake Watson, film producer
par excellence
and a veteran of many bloody production wars.
He
usually radiated an air of insouciance whatever stress he was under, and so his present mien and dishevelled appearance were somewhat out of character.

Not wishing to become embroiled in their troubles, at least not initially if he could help it, Nick knew the wisest tactic would be to ignore their obvious disgruntlement. He decided to resort to an old game he and Jake had invented out of mutual ennui on picture locations around the world. They structured their dialogue in movie tides, using these to make the salient point, testing their memory and mental agility, and in the process they had had a lot of fun in the past.

And so Nick flung an arm around Jake’s shoulder, said with a breezy grin, ‘All Quiet on the Western Front, I see.’

Jake responded tersely, ‘Momentarily.’ Almost immediately his face relaxed, acquired the geniality that was more normal for him. He smiled apologetically. ‘I didn’t mean to bite your head off. Welcome, friend.’ And then he winked, added with swiftness, ‘You’ve just walked into Stalag 17.’

Jerry looked from one to the other in puzzlement, shrugged, and thrust out his hand. ‘Afternoon, old boy. And Jake’s right, bloody prison camp this is. Can’t imagine why you’ve come back, unless it’s to share our misery.’

‘Hello, Jerry.’ Nick shook the production manager’s hand. ‘Everything seems peaceful enough to me. Positively tranquil.’

‘Yes, you might say there’s a lull right now, and I do sincerely hope it’s not the proverbial bloody lull before another storm,’ Jerry declared, the moroseness on his face intensifying.

‘Rough morning?’

‘Bad Day at Black Rock,’ Jake announced, his tone gone slightly sour. He ran an immaculately-manicured hand through his waving silver hair. ‘Pray. Light candles. Genuflect. Face Mecca on your knees. Practise witchcraft. Just do anything you think will get us through this afternoon without another hitch, Nicholas, so that we can fold our tents and quietly steal away. Shooting Mark Pierce might be an idea.’

‘Shall I take him out to the parking lot?’ Nick asked with a droll smile, his light blue eyes mischievous.

Jake cracked up. ‘Jesus, I sure am glad you’re back,
bubeleh
. At least I get a few laughs when you’re around.’

‘I’m glad to hear somebody does. Anyway, where is Little Caesar?’ Nick glanced over his shoulder, scanning the set with considerable interest. Other members of the crew were slowly straggling back, and it was gradually filling up with people as zero hour approached.

‘Mark? Grinding his heel into Terry, I’ve no doubt,’ Jerry intoned derisively.


That bad, huh?’ Nick shook his head sadly. ‘Cheer up, you guys, and take heart from the fact that this is the last day. And Victor? Where’s he?’

‘In his dressing room,’ Jake said.

‘Then I guess I’ll go in to see him, before you start rolling again.’

‘No, don’t!’ Jake grabbed his arm, restraining him. ‘Why not?’

‘He’s got Katharine in there. They’re having a conference. He doesn’t want to be disturbed.’ Jake shrugged. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Oh! But look, he’s expecting—’ Nick broke off as the continuity girl hurried up. She handed a sheaf of papers to Jerry, and retreated rapidly without uttering a single word.

Jerry grimaced at Jake. ‘Hells bloody bells,
she
looks as if she’s got a feather up her bum. I’d better go and find out what in God’s name has gone wrong now.’ He strode off, muttering under his breath.

Nick and Jake exchanged concerned glances, and Jake said softly, ‘Don’t worry. Whatever the problem is, Jerry’ll handle it. He’s a good guy, I don’t know what I’d have done without him, to tell you the truth. He’s been terrific backup for me. I’d have him on a picture any time.’ Jake sighed, fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette, lit it. ‘I must confess, Nicky, it’s struck me more than once that Mark sets out to create unnecessary tension—perhaps that’s the only climate he can work in.’ His shoulders lifted in a gesture of resignation. ‘But then I could be wrong. Anyway, what the hell, it’s all water under the bridge now.’

‘Yes, it is. From what Victor has said, I gather there has been a great deal of free-floating emotion in general.’

‘That’s true, Nick,’ Jake agreed with a brief nod. ‘As you well know, when you corral a lot of creative people together, you’re also amassing an extraordinary amount of talent, sensitivity and temperament. All these things are bouncing around, interacting between everyone. A few fireworks are
not only expected but inevitable. But Jeez, Nicky, on this picture it’s been like the Fourth of July almost every day. Still, I’ve got to hand it to Victor, he’s kept his cool pretty damn well. But then he’s a real pro.’ Jake hesitated, gave Nick a close and piercing look. After a moment he said, in a guarded tone, ‘It’s only these last few days he’s been a bit moody. Sort of brooding. Controlled as always, but more reserved than usual. Uncommunicative in some ways. Know what’s bugging him?’

Nick was taken aback, and it showed on his face, ‘Nothing. So far as I know,’ he said in all truthfulness, baffled by this unexpected revelation. ‘He was in good spirits last week, when you were in Yorkshire, and he seemed to be his normal self when I saw him on Tuesday night. I’ve spoken to him on the ’phone every day, and I didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary, either in his voice or conversation.’

Jake was thoughtful, said slowly. ‘To tell the truth, it’s begun to concern me. He really hasn’t seemed like himself. Preoccupied. Worried even. You must have noticed something. Don’t hold back on me, Nick. Come on, let’s talk
mama-loshen.

‘I
am
being straight with you, Jake, honestly, I am. I don’t know a thing. I repeat, there’s been nothing untoward in his manner or his behaviour.’ Nick pondered, his face reflective. At last, he said, ‘Look, perhaps the tension finally got to him, affected him these last few days. You’ve worked on enough pictures with him to know he considers excessive temperament to be juvenile and unprofessional, that he likes a peaceful set. Anything less tends to irritate him.’

‘Oh Christ, you’re probably right, Nicky. Maybe it’s just my imagination doing a job on me, and listen, that wouldn’t surprise me. This goddamn movie is making me paranoid.’

‘Relax, old sport.’ Nick placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder affectionately, his eyes knowing, gleaming with confidence. ‘And whether the picture is making you paranoid or not, it is
spectacular
. I saw some of die rushes yesterday, and I was
knocked for a loop, I really was, Jake!’ Nick’s excitement was evident in his tone. ‘Mark Pierce might be a son of a bitch, but he’s a brilliant director. And the wonderful thing is that none of the troubles shows up on the screen.’

Jake nodded, and his weary eyes visibly brightened. ‘That’s usually the case. The more troubled the picture, the greater it often is in the end. And I agree with you, I think we’ve got a winner, a sure-fire hit.’ Jake leaned closer, said in a confiding tone, ‘What do you think of Tempest? It’s her picture, of course. She steals it, walks away with it.’

‘Almost, but not quite.’ Nick’s response was so fast, so positive, that Jake looked at him alertly, convinced the writer was being objective. He was all ears.

‘She is absolutely sensational, I’ll grant you that. I’ll even go so far as to say she’s sheer genius in the role. But Victor is still the dominating force, as he always is on screen. He’s never anything but larger than life, and this time he surpasses himself. He’s the Byronic hero incarnate. Tormented suffering, tragic, and more romantic than he’s ever been, in my opinion. He sparks all manner of emotions. Know something? He actually moved me to tears in several scenes,’ Nick confessed with a self-conscious grin. ‘This is the greatest performance he’s ever given. It’s Oscar-time stuff, Jake. And incidentally, Terry Ogden is extraordinary as Edgar Linton. As a matter of fact, he reminds me of a young Leslie Howard, and I’m not a bit surprised Hilly Street has signed him. Terry’s a winner all the way, the real old-fashioned matinée idol, a type that’s coming into vogue again.’

‘Nicky, you’ve just made my day. I felt I wasn’t wrong about the dailies, but there are times when you sometimes wonder if you’re losing your objectivity, because you’re too close to the project. As for Terry, Victor and I agree with you, think he’s got a helluva career ahead of him in movies.’ Jake rubbed his chin, appeared momentarily confounded, as he ventured, ‘I can’t understand why Mark has been so down
on Terry. He’s performed brilliantly, but nothing he’s done has been good enough for Pierce.’

‘So I understand. Victor told me he thought there was some kind of personal animosity there, that this was the only possible explanation.’

‘Yes, we discussed that at one point, and Victor pulled Katharine into one of our confabs, convinced she knew more than she was admitting. But she was evasive, then insisted Mark and Terry were good friends.’ Jake shifted on his feet restlessly, his expression becoming enigmatic. Bringing his eyes back to Nick, he said, ‘She’s a smart one, our Little Miss Goody Two Shoes, no question about that. Yes, indeedy, she knows the score, and then some.’

Nicholas could not fail to miss the derisory edge to Jake’s tone, and he looked at the producer keenly. He realized, with a sudden spurt of surprise, that here was one other person who had reservations about Katharine Tempest. Seemingly Jake had not been blinded by the lady’s dazzle either. ‘What are you getting at?’

‘Looks as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, doesn’t she? But she’s quite the little operator.’ Jake’s laughter sounded cynical, and then he went on, ‘Listen, don’t get me wrong, Nick. Professionally I can’t fault her. She’s a marvellous actress, inspired in my opinion, and dedicated. She’s also a hard worker. However, there’s something about her as a person, as a woman, that makes me ponder. Can’t quite put my finger on it, but it’s there, nevertheless. Perhaps… well, I guess she seems too good to be true.’

Nick gaped at Jake, and curiously so. ‘I don’t know…’ he began cautiously, and hesitated, reluctant to broadcast his dislike of Katharine, which he had hitherto kept to himself. Settling for a compromise, he said, ‘I’ve thought, at times, that she gives the impression of being untouchable, remote, uninvolved, a little frigid. And God knows, it’s patently obvious she’s excessively ambitious. But I’ve never considered her to be a
devious
person. Is that what you’re suggesting?’

‘That’s a strong word. I’m not even prepared to say she’s two-faced,’ Jake murmured, adding with a sly grin, ‘slippery, maybe. And sharp, Nick. Knows how to play all the angles, and to her best advantage. Victor has cosseted her and protected her all through the picture, devoted an enormous amount of time to her. So has Pierce. Oh he’s been tough, but she’s had a great deal of attention from him. As for Ossie Edwards! Christ, he’s so stuck on her he can’t see straight. I shouldn’t say that. He can certainly see straight when he’s looking through the camera at
her
. He’s photographed her like a dream, which is not difficult, I realize, since she is beautiful. But he’s spent endless hours perfecting her lighting, her camera angles, and he’s favoured her in every scene. Naturally, she’s playing up to Ossie—in fact she’s got a lot of people bamboozled around here except yours truly, so I guess she’s not doing too badly, considering it’s her first movie.’ He nodded his head, finished with dryness, ‘It’s not surprising to me that she’s the focus of a lot of jealousy in this neck of the woods. You’d be surprised at the number of pairs of eyes which have turned a most
unattractive
shade of green in the last twelve weeks.’

Nick was somewhat astonished at Jake’s recital. That Katharine was clever he had never doubted; that he had underestimated the extent of her cleverness was now transparent.

Finally, Nick said, ‘I suppose I’ve only seen a certain side of her character, and nobody’s one-dimensional, I know that. You’ve had more exposure to her these last few months than I have. So you probably have a better understanding of her.’ He half smiled. ‘A working relationship can be revealing, can’t it? And it’s not surprising that people are jealous of her.’ It struck Nick then, and with some force, that Katharine would always be a target. As if thinking aloud, he remarked, ‘Let’s be honest though, Katharine is too richly endowed to be treated normally by her peers, or
fairly
, for that matter. She’s going to be a source of envy in her profession all of her life, and
that’s a bit unjust. After all, she can’t help her natural gifts—those stunning looks, that immense talent.’

Jake offered Nick a cigarette, fit his own, and replied, with a hollow laugh, ‘Whoever said there was any justice or fairness in this damn world, Nicholas? Katharine wants stardom in the worst way, and the kind of fame and success she craves doesn’t come cheap. There’s an old saying, Nicky… “Take whatever you want from life but never forget God expects you to pay one day.” Katharine will get her lumps, and she’ll have to swallow them like everyone else has, and does. Let’s hope it’s only envy and jealousy she has to cope with in the future. I’ll tell you this, too. She is going to be one of the biggest stars we’ve ever seen. Bar none.’

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