He replayed the test in his head. She had astounded him with her sense of timing. It was perfect. She had paused dramatically when he had not anticipated it, and increased her speed when he had expected her to adopt a slower pace. But she had been correct. Her instinct is infallible, he said to himself, and that’s something you can’t teach an actor. It was there, or it wasn’t. Besides timing, she had been gripping, exciting, and so convincing, that when she had said, ‘Nelly, I am Heathcliff!’ he had thought instantly: And she is Cathy. She’s not acting this, she’s living it, and with every fibre of her being. It will always be the same with her, whatever role she’s playing. She’s a natural, just as Vic is a natural, and like him she has that same mysterious communication with the camera. To Nick, it was almost as if Katharine had had a love affair with the lens, and it had captured so many things about her he had not realized she possessed: vulnerability, a poignancy that tugged at the heart, a restless tempestuousness, and hidden fire.
He remembered some of the lines he himself had adapted for the actual screenplay, of Heathcliff crying out, in the anguish of his love: ‘My wild sweet Cathy! My wild heart!’ How appropriate those words had become in the space of twenty-five minutes. They not only so aptly described Catherine Earnshaw but Katharine Tempest, who truly was the embodiment of them.
Finally, Nick rose and edged his way into the aisle, and approached Katharine who was surrounded by Jake, Jerry and Hilly, with Francesca and Victor standing on the side-lines. She was laughing gaily, enjoying this moment of triumph, but when she saw him the laughter broke off, and her face turned stony and hostile. The gaze she levelled at him was one of icy blue disdain, and he saw challenge mirrored there as well.
Nick experienced a sharp tightening across his chest and he shivered, feeling suddenly cold and drained. And he did not understand himself at all. He drew to a standstill in front of Katharine, staring down at her; it struck him how small and fragile she appeared, and he wondered why he’d never really noticed this before.
Growing conscious of the prolonged silence, of all eyes on him, he said softly, ‘You are Cathy. I’ll never believe anyone else in the part now. Not after seeing you. To use Vic’s favourite expression, you’re the whole enchilada.’
Stunned by this unfamiliar and unexpected approbation from Nicholas Latimer, Katharine returned his stare, not sure whether or not she had heard him correctly. Immediately she was suspicious and wary, steeled herself for the barbed line, the snide remark that inevitably fell from his mouth. But to her growing astonishment he remained silent, and he was looking at her with such warmth she was unnerved. And very slowly the frostiness in her eyes dissolved.
Katharine smiled back at Nick, and it was the only sincere smile she had given him since their first meeting. Aware that he was impervious to her, she had never bothered to exercise her devastating charm on him in the past, believing it would be a waste of time.
Hesitantly, she said, ‘Do you mean you actually thought I was good?’
‘Not good, Katharine. Brilliant.’
There was another silence, in reality a sudden stillness between them, and then she asked, ‘Are you sure, Nick? Really really sure?’
‘Yes, I am, Katharine,’ he replied in a voice that was low and serious. But as he turned to Francesca, his wicked grin flashed. ‘And you did a pretty damned good job with the scene, kid. I’d better watch myself, or I’m going to be out of a job. Christ, the amateurs are getting to be real professionals around here. And some of them are still in diapers.’
Delighted, Francesca burst out laughing, and she clutched his arm. ‘I was wondering what you’d say, and coming from a writer like you, those are words of praise indeed. Thank you.’ Nick took this opportunity to lead Francesca away from the group, out of the limelight, all the while trying to define the cause of his discomfort, diagnose the reason for the chill in his bones. It had to be the flu.
Katharine’s gaze followed them, and lingered briefly on Nicholas Latimer. If this man who so hated her said she was brilliant, then it must be true. Know thine enemy, she thought, and unexpectedly remembered something her father had said years ago—that it was often wiser to seek the truth from an enemy rather than a friend. Now she could not help thinking of her brother Ryan, picturing his face when he saw her on the screen, when he understood she was a famous star. Or about to be one. She wished her brother had been here today. To witness the beginning of it all. And it was the beginning, just the way she had planned it.
Katharine’s young heart quickened, and that driving ambition, that fierce and relentless determination to succeed were intensified within her as never before, and yet again she silently reiterated her resolution to rescue Ryan and destroy her father’s hold on him. It won’t be long now, she promised herself, not long at all…
‘I’m sure it goes without saying that you’ve got the part,’ Victor exclaimed.
Startled, Katharine looked across at him, her eyes scanning his face. After a moment she said, ‘I hope so. Thank you, Victor.’ She laughed. ‘I’m definitely hired?’
‘You are. I’ve prepared the contract for your agent to look over. He’ll be getting it later today.’
‘Thanks…’ She stopped, frowning, and then pronounced in a careful tone, ‘I’d like to ask you something. Why were you so noncommittal, so vague with me about the test? I don’t unders—’
‘That’s right, you bastard,’ Nick interjected with a broad grin. Adopting an exaggerated English accent, he went on, ‘Awfully bad show, old boy, keeping us in the dark. Not very sporting of you, wot?’
A smile swept across Victor’s face. ‘I had a good reason for playing it cool, and close to the chest. Very simply, I wanted to be absolutely sure I would get honest reactions from everyone. I was worried I might set you up, influence you, if I let my own excitement show, and I almost did several times. That’s why it was easier for me to keep quiet. When I first ran the test I could hardly contain myself. Then I ran it again, and again, looking for flaws, but there weren’t any. Actually, I’ve seen it four times altogether,’ he admitted, ‘and in my opinion it gets better every time. I knew I couldn’t be wrong in my assessment, but I wanted to see if you were all going to be swept off your feet, like I had been.’
‘We certainly were,’ Francesca exclaimed, and then blushed furiously. There were nods of agreement, and Hillard Steed volunteered, ‘I think Monarch would be interested in signing a contract with Katharine.’ He swung his eyes away from Victor and let them rest appraisingly on Katharine, finishing, a trifle pompously, ‘How do you feel about that, young lady?’
Before she could open her mouth, Victor cried, ‘Hold your horses, Hilly! Not so fast. Bellissima Productions has a verbal commitment from Katharine, and the contract is right here in my pocket.’ He patted the front of his jacket and, noting Hilly’s disbelief, he immediately pulled out an envelope. ‘Do you want to see it, Hilly?’
Hilly shook his head, his disappointment apparent. ‘No, I believe you, Vic. And I don’t blame you. Congratulations to you too. You’ve got yourself a major new star on your hands.’ Another thought struck him, and he said quickly, ‘Would you be interested in a loan out? That is, if you don’t have another picture in mind for Katharine after Wuthering Heights? I’d like to talk about that possibility with you, even start negotiations.’
Victor looked interested. ‘Do you have a particular property in mind, Hilly?’ he asked, knowing he undoubtedly did, otherwise he wouldn’t have made the proposal. Not Hilly Street, who was a veteran film maker.
‘Sure do, Victor.’ Hilly’s eyes narrowed, and he waited, purposely holding back, anticipating a string of pertinent questions from Victor, wanting his announcement to have the maximum effect.
But Victor, also percipient, merely smiled, well versed in Hilly’s ploys and tactics, and not about to take the bait too swiftly. He lit a cigarette, out-waiting Hilly, and turning to Nick, he said, ‘Incidentally, talking of properties, did you read the script by Frank
Lomax? The one the Morris office sent. Now that would be a great vehicle for Katharine.’
Nick, understanding immediately Victor’s strategy, jumped in with, ‘It’s terrific. I think we should grab it, and Bellissima can produce it—’
‘Don’t be too hasty,’ Hilly interrupted sharply. ‘Not until you’ve heard me out.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I want Katharine for… the new Beau Stanton picture.’ He let his words sink in, and went on rapidly, ‘We’re all set to go, except for the female lead. Naturally, we’ve a few top stars in mind, but personally I think Katharine would play off marvellously against Beau. They’d make a great team. Script by Henry Romaine. The best in the business, as you know, Vic. Willy Adler directing. Morton Lane producing. Costumes by Edith Head. We start shooting in October. In Hollywood. Locations in San Francisco and New York. Twelve weeks shooting schedule.’
Victor swallowed. This he had not expected, and he was tremendously impressed by the prestigious names attached to the film, all adding up to a quality production, and not the least was the male star. Richard Stanton, commonly known as Beau in the industry, was a big box-office name and had been for the past twenty years or so. An English actor who had first made it big in the Hollywood of the thirties, Beau was one of the longest-lasting perennials, handsome, debonair, suave, and ageless. He was a leading man of faultless grace, inimitable style, great elegance, and had an easy charm that wholly captivated women. His penchant for fight, glossy, sophisticated comedy had become his forte, and his films were always highly commercial successes. If Katharine went into a picture with Beau immediately after starring opposite Vic himself, then her career in the movies was not merely launched but would be jet-propelled. Meteoric. She would be established as an international name instantaneously.
Jesus! Vic thought. Concealing his excitement, he said evenly, with cool thoughtfulness, ‘Obviously I have to talk to Katharine first, explain about loan outs. And I would want to see the script before I make a final decision. But I’m not negative, Hilly, not at all. I think we’d better sit down and talk this out later in the week. In the meantime, shall we go to lunch? A celebration lunch. I’ve booked a table at Les Ambassadeurs. It’s champagne and the whole—’
‘Enchilada,’ Katharine finished for him. Her face, calm and inscrutable, revealed nothing. But her heart was pounding, her mind was racing and she could hardly breathe. She smiled a small secretive smile as she linked her arm through Victor’s and guided him towards the door.
Nick took hold of Francesca’s hand and hurried her up the aisle after them. It’s all going too fast. Far too fast, he thought, shafted by dismay. There’s going to be trouble. Nothing but trouble. And suddenly he had an awful sense of foreboding, one so real to him he faltered momentarily. As they stepped into the lift Nick’s uneasiness increased, and then he laughed inwardly and told himself he was being over imaginative, even ridiculous. And he laughed again, trying to shake the feeling off. But he could not dispel it, and it was to linger in him for the rest of that day, and for many months to come.
Chapter Twenty
‘And don’t worry about the old man; he’s going to be all right,’ Kim said, heaving Francesca’s suitcase up onto the luggage rack. He glanced down at her, and continued: ‘After all, he’s got Doris hovering like a ministering angel, pampering him like a baby, and he loves it. She seems to be enjoying the role too.’ Kim grinned and his eyes danced with mischief. ‘A latter-day Florence Nightingale, got up in Christian Dior and diamonds.’
Francesca laughed, despite her concern for her father. ‘Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I think there’s definitely something afoot there, don’t you?’
‘I do indeed.’ Kim sat down on the edge of the seat opposite her, and searched around in the pocket of his suede and sheepskin jacket for his cigarettes. He brought out the packet, lit one, and added, ‘Wedding bells about to ring maybe?’ A brow shot up.
‘I’m not sure,’ Francesca responded. ‘Neither of them is very confiding. But Doris does have a decided sparkle in her eyes, and she’s adopted a rather proprietary attitude with Daddy. Not only that, she seems to have taken charge at Langley, and she’s never done that before. I don’t mind about Doris marrying Daddy, do you, Kim?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Actually, I’m really rather glad about their relationship, and the new turn it’s taken. I hope they do get married. I think Doris is a good egg, and ideal for Father. He needs someone who’s fun loving and vivacious and kind. And very devoted, I might add. Besides, she’s got pots and pots of money—’
‘God, you are awful!’ Francesca exclaimed. ‘I’ve told you before, that wouldn’t influence Daddy one iota. How can you think such a dreadful thing!’ She shot him a disapproving glare.
‘Oh, I realize the old man isn’t interested in her money, Frankie. But all of those lovely dollars won’t do him any harm. Quite the contrary, I would say.’ Kim drew on his cigarette and blew out a smoke ring, watching it curl into the air, his grey eyes reflective. After a moment he said, ‘But getting back to Father’s health, do put the accident out of your mind.’
‘I’ll try to,’ Francesca promised, her good humour with him restored. ‘But I can’t help feeling it was all my fault—’
‘Stuff and nonsense! These things have a way of happening. You weren’t responsible.’
‘Still, if he hadn’t been on the step-ladder in the library, looking for that book for me, he would never have fallen.’
Kim groaned mildly. ‘But he did fall, Frankie dear, and worrying about it, after the fact, won’t accomplish anything.’ Noting her glum expression, he tried to cheer her up. ‘Look, darling, Dr Fuller said he’s going to be fine, providing he stays on his back for a week or two, and Fuller is giving him medication to kill the pain. A fractured pelvic bone is a damnable thing, because it’s impossible to set, but as long as he rests it will mend properly.’
‘Yes, I know. It must be awfully uncomfortable though.’
‘I expect it is, but at least Father is rather bright at the moment, what with good old Doris hanging around. And also because of that marvellous little windfall, courtesy of you and Katharine.’
‘Thanks to Katharine, you mean. I really didn’t have anything to do with it,’ Francesca stated. Her face lit up and her smoky, amber-hazel eyes glowed with affection. ‘She’s a marvellous girl, isn’t she, Kim?’
‘She’s absolutely the tops. Super!’ he declared, his own face wreathed in smiles. ‘And don’t forget to give her my love, will you? ’Phone her the moment you get in.’
‘How could I possibly forget. You’ve repeated yourself half a dozen times in the last hour,’ she laughed. The sound of carriage doors slamming and the guard’s whistle caught her attention, and she glanced out of the window. ‘You’d better be going, Kim, otherwise you’ll get whisked off to London with me.’
‘I wouldn’t mind that at all,’ Kim asserted, thinking longingly of Katharine. He groaned and pulled a face. ‘Unfortunately, duty calls, and I’m needed at Langley more than ever right now.’ He stood up, bent over to kiss her on the cheek, and squeezed her shoulder lovingly. ‘Have a nice journey, Frankie, and do take care of that awful cold.’ He moved to the carriage door, then swung around and reassured, ‘Dad’s in good hands, so please try to relax. Remember, I’m at Langley and I’ll make sure he follows doctor’s orders.’
‘I know you will. ’Bye, darling.’
‘’Bye,’ he smiled, and jumped swiftly onto the platform, slamming the carriage door shut as the train started to roll slowly along the tracks, pulling out of Harrogate railway station and heading on its long journey south.
Francesca sat back, settling herself in the corner, burrowing deeper into her heather-toned tweed top coat, shivering slightly even though she was wearing a matching heavy tweed skirt and a woollen twinset under the coat, as well as a cashmere scarf and boots. But it was chilly in the carriage, the steam heat slow in circulating. Also, she had caught a cold earlier in the week and had been u
nable to shake it off. Melly, their old nanny who lived in retirement in an estate cottage at Langley, had poured all manner of old-fashioned concoctions down her, but even these tried and tested remedies of her childhood had been to no avail. She had the cold, and, if anything, it was much worse.
Francesca opened her handbag and took out the packet of throat lozenges Melly had pressed into her hand yesterday, smiling to herself, filled with fond thoughts of Melly, who had raised her. The lozenges were called Fisherman’s Friend, and, according to Melly, had been specially formulated for the Fleetwood deep sea fishermen working in the Icelandic frost and fog conditions. She and Kim had been force-fed them as children, and they were so strong they almost blew the head off, but Melly swore by them, and they were effective in helping to ease a raspy throat. Francesca popped one into her mouth and sucked on it, gazing out of the window, watching the landscape flying past as the train hurtled through the Dales towards Leeds. The fields were black and barren, covered with a fine coating of hoary frost, and the stark unadorned trees were like proud and solitary sentinels, rising up against a fading sky that was daunting in its coldness. Spring would be late this year, and there were none of the usual signs of gentling greenness, baby lambs gambolling or early daffodils billowing in the breeze, even though it was already the first week of March. A telegraph pole came into her line of vision a short way ahead, sprouting up between the trembling hills to ruin the beauty of the graceful rolling vista. To Francesca it was a sharp reminder of the problems she had encountered in the past week, when she had been guiding Jerry Massingham and his assistant Ginny around Yorkshire, helping them to scout locations for the film.
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