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.’
‘I know, Jake.’
A contemplative expression settled on the producer’s narrow, angular face. He said, ‘This may sound weird, but I believe Katharine would be big whether she wanted to be or not. She’s like a force of nature. She exists, therefore she will be. There’s just no stopping her now. Mind you, I doubt that she’d be able to stop herself, even if she tried. It’s gone beyond her control. In fact, the only way Katharine could avoid stardom would be if she retired from this business and hid herself in a nunnery. That girl was born to be a star. It’s an inevitability… it’s her destiny.’
Although Nick knew at once what Jake was implying, recognized the sincerity behind the words, he could not help exclaiming, ‘But you’re being inconsistent! Suddenly you’re saying her career has been preordained, or some such things, whereas a few minutes ago you told me she was a little operator.’
Jake cried assertively, ‘That she is, Nicholas. And a very shrewd one, in my opinion. But don’t you see, she doesn’t really have to be. Katharine Tempest has everything going for her without playing the angles, loading the dice. Jesus, she’s a natural. All she has to do is sit still and let it happen. And believe me it will in record time. I’m afraid Katharine wastes far too much energy—unnecessarily. Let’s hope she doesn’t waste her talent.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Let’s also hope that fame and glory don’t go rushing to her head.’
‘Yes,’ Nick murmured. ‘It’s all pretty potent stuff. But I’m sure she can handle it.’ As he spoke he wondered if she could.
‘Don’t look so serious, Nicholas.’ Jake punched him on the arm. ‘And after today Katha
rine Tempest will no longer be any concern of mine. Come October she’ll be Monarch’s problem.’
‘But after that you may find yourself stuck with her again, old sport. You’re bound to be the line producer on Victor’s next picture for Bellissima, and it would be criminal if he didn’t use Katharine. Let’s face it, they are magical together.’
‘True. Very true, Nicholas. But in the meantime, I’m taking a sabbatical. I fully intend to… Leave Her to Heaven.’
‘You had to have the last word, didn’t you,’ Nick laughed. ‘Here comes our star. The conference must be over.’ Nick waved to Victor, who was hurrying across the sound stage towards them. He was already dressed for his role as Heathcliff, looking impossibly handsome in an elegantly-cut black Victorian frock coat, narrow pants, matching waistcoat and a white shirt with a ruffled front.
‘Hi Jake, Nicky.’ He eyed the writer, and asked, ‘How long have you been here, kid?’
‘About half an hour. You were tied up.’
‘Yep. Talking the scene over with Katharine, after Mark’s mandatory run-through earlier. It’s the one before the death scene. As you know, we shot that in Yorkshire. I wanted her to feel absolutely confident about it, so that she’ll be relaxed.’ He glanced at Jake, his eyes sharp. ‘No problems?’
‘Not at the moment. But don’t hold your breath. You’ve been to make-up I see. I guess you’re all ready to go.’
‘Sure, I’m all set. Katharine’s having her hair done, and Terry’s almost dressed. The troops are geared up to do battle, any time the big man wants. Where is he, Jake?’
‘I haven’t seen him for well over an hour. He disappeared after the run-through. Don’t worry, he’ll show up at five minutes to three, cracking his whip and snarling.’
‘For the last time,’ Victor retorted.
‘I’ll say amen to that!’ Jake exclaimed. ‘If you don’t need me for anything, Victor, I’d better go and round up All the King’s Men.’
Victor gave the producer a swift look. ‘So you and Nicky are still playing that old game, are you? Sure, go ahead. And Jake, remember one thing—it may be Battleground today, but tomorrow it’ll be Bright Victory.’ The lazy grin slid onto his mouth. ‘Surprised you, didn’t I? But I know a few movie tides, too. Give me a yell if you need anything.’ Victor grabbed Nick’s arm and led him over to a group of canvas directors’ chairs arranged to one side of the cameras and facing towards the set to be used for the last scene. ‘Here, take my chair, kid,’ Victor said.
Nick sat down, remarked, ‘Aren’t you joining me, Vic?’
‘I prefer to stand while we visit. I don’t want to crease these trousers. They’re as tight as hell.’
‘It’s a tough world, old sport,’ Nick laughed.
Victor went on, ‘I’m going to see the assembled footage this weekend with Pierce, and next week I’ll do the dubbing he needs for my exteriors. Then I thought we’d take off for Paris. Spend a few days there before heading south to Beaulieu. How does that sound to you?’
‘Great. You realize I’ll be dragging my typewriter along. I must get back to work.’
Victor nodded. ‘Sure, I know that. It’s the best thing for you, Nicky. You’ll be able to write undisturbed at La Reserve and by then the area should be much quieter, less crowded with tourists. I gather there have been more people than ever on the Riviera this summer, because of Grace Kelly’s wedding. Oh, incidentally, after Jake’s supervised some of the editing with Pierce, and mopped up here in general, he’ll be joining us for a week or so. You don’t mind do you?’
‘Of course I don’t.’ Nick looked at Victor.
‘I suppose it’s already crossed your mind that it’s going to be like old home week. Hollywood on the Med. Hilly Street will be floating around, or so I’ve heard, and so will Jerry. We’ll be tripping over a lot of familiar faces.
‘Including Beau Stanton, not to mention whomever he’s got in tow from the Coast. He was a guest at Grace’s wedding, and rented a villa at Cap d’Antibes for the summer. He’s in London at the moment, flew in Tuesday night. He came to see Hilly about the comedy.’ Victor leaned forward, dropped his voice an octave, ‘It’s not been announced yet, but Hilly’s going to be made head of worldwide production for Monarch, operating out of Los Angeles, starting some time in October. He’ll see the Bolding picture on its way in France before handing over to his successor here.’
‘Hey, that’s terrific news, Vic. It augurs well for Bellissima, doesn’t it?’
‘Sure. He wants to continue the association. Anyway, getting back to our vacation, as soon as I heard about the Bolding crowd converging on Monte Carlo, I started studying the map, picking out some choice places we could mosey off to for several days at a time.’
Nick listened carefully as Victor went on to outline his ideas and plans for the rest of the summer, observing him acutely, seeking tell-tale signs of the moodiness and worry Jake mentioned earlier. To his relief, Victor seemed untroubled. On the other hand, the actor was just that—an actor, and a consummate one. Deception was part of his professional stock in trade. It even crept into his personal life sometimes. Nick thought then of Vic’s secretiveness about his relationship with Francesca. Other than Diana, he was the only person who knew about them. Vic had certainly kept the lid down tight on that situation. Besides, Victor did have a marvellous ability to shelve any personal problems when he was working, in order to concentrate completely on his current role, and so he could easily be covering up. Nick knew it would be both thoughtless and imprudent to start prodding his friend at this most crucial moment before the final scene, and so wisely he held his tongue. If Vic did have worries, he would confide them soon enough.
‘I’d toyed with the idea of driving to the south, of taking the Bentley to France, but perhaps we’re better off flying,’ Victor was saying. ‘I’ll talk to the travel agency tomorrow about our tickets, a hotel in Paris. I’m wondering if we should stay at the George Cinq, the Ritz or the Raphael…’ Victor stopped, distracted by a small flurry of noise. He swung his head, glanced towards the door, turned back. ‘There’s Mark now. This is it. Let’s hope we can lock this scene up in less than the usual five or six takes.’
‘You will. Go and sock it to ’em, Vic.’
‘I’ll do my damnedest.’ He strode off.
Nick leaned back in the chair and relaxed, his gaze riveted on Mark Pierce, who was conferring with Ossie Edwards, Jake and Jerry. The director was a short, compact, attractive-looking man, with a mild manner in social situations, one that truly belied his fierce temper and tyrannical posturings when he was working. Nick had only met him a couple of times before leaving for New York, and had found him to be erudite and contemplative. However, his attitudes and opinions very much reflected the British Establishment, and Nick had stamped him a snob, and a pompous one at that. He had not particularly liked Pierce.
Ego problems there, Nick thought. Like all extremely small men he adopts a bombastic and dictatorial manner to compensate for his lack of height. Napoleon complex. Nick concentrated his attention on the group with undisguised interest. Victor was gesturing towards the set, and all four men moved over to it in one body, talking amongst themselves. After several seconds of further discussion they dispersed. Mark brought the set decorator and a prop man over to the set, and they began to make some minor adjustments to the furniture arrangement. Victor ambled across to Terry and Katharine, who had walked onto the sound stage accompanied by Ann Patterson, who played Nelly Dean in the film, as she had in Katharine’s screen test.
Technicians were materializing as if from thin air; stagehands, sound engineers, the continuity girl, and an assortment of assistants were milling around, and activity accelerated as the crew prepared to start shooting. Ossie Edwards was behind the camera, talking to his assistant, and Pierce positioned himself nearby. And then, before Nick could blink, Jerry Massingham’s voice rang out: ‘Extinguish all cigarettes, please. Silence. Lights.’ A low hubbub continued, and again Jerry bellowed:
‘SILENCE!’
Quietness descended immediately. The set, depicting Catherine Earnshaw Linton’s bedroom at Thrushcross Grange, was flooded with brilliant illumination from the kliegs. Mark beckoned to Katharine, who floated forward. She was wearing a white summer dress of period design, cut loose and flowing, since she was supposed to be pregnant by Edgar Linton, and there was a lacy wool shawl of sky blue around her shoulders. Her chestnut hair fell in a dark tumble of waves around her face, which was without a spot of colour and made her spectacular turquoise eyes seem more startling than ever. Mark went up and spoke to her. She nodded, stepped onto the set and seated herself in a chair. He waited until Katharine had settled herself comfortably, placed a book on her lap, and laid her hands on it listlessly.
Mark then motioned to Victor and Ann, who disappeared behind the set so that they could enter it through the door built into the backdrop. He then resumed his stance near the camera, and without taking his eyes off Katharine, he raised his hand, called, ‘Camera. Action.’
The door opened. Ann led Victor into the room, guiding him towards the chair where Katharine sat.
Nick leaned forward, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair, his chin cupped in his hand, his entire attention focused on the actors. Always prepared to take part in the make-believe of the theatre and of film, his willing suspension of disbelief was, nonetheless, so instantaneous he was surprised. Within a split second he had accepted the two leading performers so completely he was convinced and mesmerized by them. Katharine and Victor were no longer themselves. They were Catherine and Heathcliff.
The fatally-ill Catherine, half reclining, half sitting in the chair looked exhausted and weak, her life ebbing out of her.
Voice of the Heart Page 55
