‘Dan …?’
You will say yes, won’t you?’ He swayed in front of her, his face a mixture of drunken love and a touch of anxiety.
‘Oh, Dan – yes, yes, yes!!’
She threw her arms around him, which caused him to collapse on to the bed. They lay there hugging each other in a messy jumble of laughter and tears.
Dan kissed her with the lazy passion of a drunk. ‘I love you, Shauna Jackson.’
‘And I love you, Dan Jackson.’
At this, Dan promptly fell asleep with a huge grin on his face.
They married a few months later on the island of Mustique, with only a handful of guests. Dan’s mother came, along with his brother and his wife. Roxy was Shauna’s maid-of-honour and she was accompanied by her current beau, Jacob, a pizza-delivery man from Brooklyn, where she was now living. ‘He brought pepperoni pizza and never left!’ Shauna had also invited her new friend, Mel Rosaria, a make-up artist she had formed a bond with on set and who she now requested whenever she signed on to a movie – as Dan had instructed her to do. ‘Make sure you have good people around you, people that you trust.’
Her parents had declined to make the long journey, but her father had given Shauna her grandmother’s wedding ring to wear. Even her mother had shed a tear as she told them her news on a visit home.
Shauna had worn a dress made by Roxy: sleeveless, strapless and figure-hugging, it was a world away from the eighties trend for shoulder pads and princess puffs. They had written their own vows and Shauna had cried when Dan made his vow that, every moment of every day, he would carry her in his heart. She in turn vowed to be forever by his side, no matter what life would throw at them. She tossed the bouquet, which was shunned by Roxy and caught instead by Mel. Then they adjourned to Basil’s Bar where everyone danced under the stars to the sound of a calypso band.
When they said goodnight to their guests, Shauna reserved an extra-long embrace for Roxy.
‘You look so beautiful and happy,’ Roxy said, looking stunning herself in a floor-length black sequined number which was the perfect negative image of Shauna’s dress.
‘That’s because I am – are you?’
‘Yes, Jacob gives me everything I need right now – he’s a great lay and doesn’t pretend he loves me.’
‘We’ve come so far, hard to believe that just a few years ago …’
‘Hush! Today is not the day for those sorts of memories.’
‘You’re right, but I’ll never forget, not even today.’
‘I know, but you’re happy now and that’s what matters.’ She mimed raising a glass to toast the bride: ‘Here’s to the start of a new chapter. Here’s to the rest of our lives.’
Chapter 16
Shauna had taken her first steps on the path to stardom before she married Dan, but once his ring was on her finger, doors seemed to magically open for her. She hated to think that it was because of Dan, and he took pains to reassure her that it wasn’t, but she was determined to make it on her own merits.
She chose only projects that would enhance her reputation and where she could learn from people she admired. She shied away from blockbusters, though the offers poured in, and the agent Dan had recommended, Isaac Orvitz, supported her in her choices. Isaac was old school; expensive but fiercely protective of his clients, he drove a hard bargain and treated Shauna like his daughter.
He was the one who told her about Only the Brave, a film that was in the early stages of development. The leading role had already been given to Jessica Lange, but there was an interesting supporting role as the wife of a paraplegic Vietnam veteran who faces a long road to recovery on his return home.
‘She’s not a likeable character,’ Isaac explained. ‘Turns out, she can’t cope with what’s happened to him and she winds up dumping the guy – but you can give her a heart.’
After reading the script, Dan was of the same opinion as Isaac. He urged her to go for it.
The director was an auteur with a clear idea about who he wanted for the role – and it wasn’t Shauna. He wanted Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio, and Shauna knew she would have to do something extraordinary to get him to take a risk on her. Thanks to her old boss, Terry Sullivan, pulling some strings – thanks to Mel for transforming her appearance so that she was unrecognizable as Shauna Jackson – she passed herself off as a new waitress in the director’s favourite bar, serving drinks incognito for few nights to get to know him. She invented a sob story that her violent ex-husband was out of jail and threatening to kill her and she needed a thousand dollars to skip town. He was so convinced by Shauna’s performance that he gave her the money in cash and offered to drive her to safety himself.
Shauna returned the money via a courier, along with signed picture of herself accompanied by a note that read, ‘Do you think I can do it now?’
The part was hers. And when word of the subterfuge spread, it cemented her reputation as an actress who was prepared to take risks for her craft.
It was a gruelling shoot, months of doing scenes repeatedly, tempers boiling over in the process. She rediscovered emotions she hadn’t felt in a long time and when she finally walked out on her on-screen husband while he screamed at her not to abandon him, it nearly tore her in two. The director had to give her a day off set to recover.
When they finally wrapped filming, Shauna felt drained but at the same time exhilarated. She tapped into her emotions and brought that character to life in a way she wouldn’t have believed herself capable of – and she had never felt more alive.
The following year, the film received nominations in virtually every major category in both the Golden Globes and the Oscars. It was Shauna and Dan’s first year of attending awards-season events together, and Dan encouraged her to revel in it.
‘This is what Tinseltown is all about, baby,’ he told her out of the corner of his mouth in a fake American accent as they stood on the red carpet at the Golden Globes. Shauna, having kept her promise, was wearing a gown made by Roxy. It was ice blue, fitted her like a dream, understated enough not to overshadow the other actresses who’d been nominated in her category, with a subtle nod to Grace Kelly in the elegant styling. Shauna kept having to pinch herself that she had been nominated. The film had garnered worldwide acclaim and her turn as the brittle, resentful but damaged wife had fully pushed her into the spotlight.
The evening passed in a blur of flashing bulbs and sound-bite interviews, and then suddenly the names of the nominees were being read out by Shirley MacLaine. Shauna, certain that she wouldn’t win, concentrated on keeping a smile on her face so the camera wouldn’t catch her looking disappointed. Even so, she couldn’t keep a pang of longing from flaring up inside her when she heard her name among the nominees, wanting the coveted award so much, yet not daring to hope.
Shirley MacLaine slowly opened the envelope and time seemed to stand still for a second until she squealed and said, ‘The best supporting actress goes to another redhead: Shauna Jackson!’
Dan’s eyes shone with love and approval as she got to her feet. She accepted her award with humility, thanking the director and the cast, and dedicating the award to the many damaged veterans and their families who had suffered so much in the aftermath of war. Dan had insisted that she rehearse an acceptance speech even though she’d been convinced there was no chance of her winning; she was thankful that he had.
As she posed for pictures and fielded reporters’ questions while clutching her Golden Globe to her chest, she realized that the one person she had forgotten to thank was Dan.
Chapter 17
Cannes, 2000
Ordinarily, Dan Jackson loved the Cannes Film Festival. It lacked the mania of Hollywood, and its European focus meant that Dan was able to meet like-minded directors and talk to thoughtful interviewers about his passion for film. The junket was gruelling nonetheless, today alone he’d been interviewed by Jonathon Ross, Entertainment Tonight, the BBC and by a Dutch film crew. He’d had lunch with Sam Mendes to discuss f
inancing on a new project he wanted Dan on board for, and tonight he and Shauna were having dinner with Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon after the screening of Cradle Will Rock, which was in the running for the coveted Palme D’or. His busy schedule was the least of his problems.
His schedule allowed him only one short break. While Shauna was off being interviewed by a French TV show, he had their hotel room to himself. He was planning to make use of the time by taking a quick shower and freshening up.
He stood in the bathroom and regarded himself in the large well-lit mirror, which hid nothing. He was now in his late forties, and no amount of hours on the treadmill in his home gym, or pounding the boardwalk outside their Malibu beachfront mansion could shift the tyre that had accumulated around his middle. His brown hair was peppered with more than a little salt, and his face was lined – or craggy, as he preferred to think of it – with bags sagging under his bloodshot eyes. God, he needed some sleep.
He splashed some of his usual 4711 eau de cologne, the one that Shauna ensured he had a ready supply of. I like to smell you coming, she would joke. He opened his wash bag and took out a vial of tablets. You need to slow down, his doctor had told him. Cut out the fags and the booze, and the nose candy, for Chrissakes – your blood pressure is through the roof. He threw his head back, swallowed the daily dose of tablets to keep his blood pressure down. He wasn’t sure they were working.
He padded from the bathroom to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. They were staying in the Hôtel Barrière Le Majestic, and their suite looked out across the Croisette to the Mediterranean Sea. Not for the first time, Dan contemplated taking a walk down to the shore, taking a swim and never coming back.
That familiar pang of conscience was back again, the knot in his stomach. He pushed down the fear, the sense that life was out of control, and tried to focus instead on getting ready, of finding his socks, his tie … He felt useless without Shauna here and knew that he would be useless without her in his life. Why the hell had he let himself get involved in this dreadful mess?
The phone jangled, and he picked it up, hoping it would be Shauna – knowing that her voice would reassure him, even if only momentarily.
‘Dan Jackson,’ he said.
‘Dan … it’s me.’ It was a woman’s voice, American, with a touch of Latino.
His stomach lurched. ‘I told you not to call me – how did you get them to put you through?’
‘I’m not just a pretty face,’ she snapped. ‘And what else was I supposed to do? You don’t answer your mobile, or take my calls from your office.’ There was no mistaking the anger in the voice. ‘You can’t just erase me from your life, Dan. I won’t let you.’
Dan grimaced and drew his hand across his forehead, wiping away the sweat that was beading on his brow.
‘I’m not trying to dismiss you, but you must understand, I can’t do what you’re asking—’
‘You didn’t say that when you were screwing me. You wanted me then.’
‘Yes … please … I know, but I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘You bastard, you took what you wanted and now you think you can leave me – and our son – with nothing.’
‘I’ve given you money, more than enough, but I can’t … I won’t be held to ransom by you.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. You’re going to pay, Dan. Believe me, you’ll pay.’
She hung up, leaving Dan drenched in his own sweat, his heart pounding. At that moment, Shauna entered the room, accompanied by a waft of No.5 and clad in a classic pink-and-black Chanel two-piece. She threw her Hermès Birkin handbag onto the bed and kissed his head. ‘Thank God that’s over! If one more interviewer asks why I turned down Shakespeare in Love, I’ll scream. Gwynnie was the right actress for the role. Pour me a drink, darling.’
It took her a moment to notice that Dan was ashen-faced. ‘Dan – oh, God, what’s wrong?’ She quickly dropped down beside him. ‘Should I call a doctor?’
‘No fucking doctor!’ he snapped. Then he took a deep breath and held his hand up in a gesture of restraint and said more calmly. ‘Really, Shauna, I’m fine. Probably overtired, that’s all.’
‘Are you sure? You look awful.’
‘Charming,’ he laughed mirthlessly.
‘Dan, you know what I mean. Something isn’t right.’
It took a supreme effort, but Dan did his best to smile and reassure her. ‘Darling, I’m perfectly well. Cannes always does this to me – too much cordon bleu and fine brandy. Please don’t fuss.’ He made a show of looking at his Patek Phillippe watch, a present from Shauna for their tenth wedding anniversary. ‘You’d better take a soak; we’ve got another long night ahead of us.’
‘Look, we can cancel. It’s more important that you rest – you know what the doctor said about your blood pressure.’
His patience snapped. ‘The doctor isn’t a fucking film director forced into this year of hell by the film studio that pays his wages.’
Stung, Shauna retreated. ‘You chose this life, Dan – we both did, but that doesn’t mean it has to ruin your health – or our marriage.’
‘You didn’t say that when you swanned off for a six-month shoot with Richard Gere, did you?’
Shauna’s eyes flashed at the accusation. ‘You told me to take that movie. “It will be good for you to do a comedy,” you said.’
Dan rubbed his eyes, sick and tired of the endless arguments, but knowing he was the cause. ‘Oh, Shauna, can we please stop talking about your fucking career for five minutes.’
‘Fine. I’m going to take a bath.’ She went into the enormous bathroom with its marble and gold sunken bath and slammed the door.
Annoyed with himself because he recognized that Shauna didn’t deserve his barbs, Dan raked his hand over his chin and reached for the nightstand. He removed his medication organizer from the top drawer and took out a small paper wrap of white powder that had not been prescribed by his doctor. Using a tiny spoon, he measured out a small amount, used his credit card to chop two lines and snorted them with the aid of a rolled-up twenty-euro note.
Feeling better now, he lifted the phone and put in a call to his accountant in New York. His foot tapped impatiently as he waited to be connected.
‘Abe, it’s Dan Jackson. You remember that hundred-thousand-dollar transfer I had you make to Frankie Martinez? Well, I need you to make another one.’ He pulled the phone away from his ear as Abe squawked down the line at him.
‘Yes, I know she’s just some bit-part actress, I know it’s madness – but do what I’m asking you and send her another hundred grand. And keep your mouth shut, OK? I can’t have Shauna finding out.’
Shauna felt detached as she and Dan posed for pictures outside the cinema that was the venue for tonight’s feature. Although the festival was tiring and repetitive, with way too many late nights, the effort involved in looking glamorous and delighted to be there wasn’t exactly coal mining. Red-carpet events like this kept the wheels of the industry turning. The publicity generated was good for business, and vital to smaller movies that might otherwise struggle to get noticed. Tonight, however, she was operating on autopilot, her mind preoccupied with the nagging concern that had dogged her for months: Dan was keeping secrets from her and something was terribly wrong with their marriage.
It wasn’t just the increase in the amount of cocaine he was taking. Their Malibu home was enormous and they both had their own suites, but they still slept together and, despite his attempts to hide the evidence, she had spotted the telltale signs. The clues had been easier to spot this past year, as he’d grown sloppy about sweeping away the residue on the glass table in his office. His unpredictable mood swings were now a constant. When she tried to broach the subject, his male pride wouldn’t allow him open up to her. Dan was a wonderful person in so many ways, but he was old-fashioned and kept his troubles to himself.
Their marital problems had gotten worse over the last couple of years. A shoot in Scotland that ran into p
roblems when the director quit halfway through had meant an extended and enforced absence from each other’s lives. It had been a mistake; she could see that now. Dan had begged her to come back to LA when the shit hit the fan, but her loyalty to the cast and crew wouldn’t let her. By the time she returned, Dan was in South America, fulfilling a contractual obligation to shoot a drama set in the rainforest, even though he was in no condition, physically or mentally.
By the time they saw each other again, six months had gone by. The physical toll on Dan was obvious, he’d lost weight and looked as if he’d aged ten years. But the worst thing was, he seemed to have grown emotionally distant from her. When he was tired or under stress, he would rail against her, accusing her of being self-absorbed and only caring about her career. Afraid there might be some truth in his criticism, she did everything she could to restore his trust in her, turning down projects that would take her away from home. But whatever she did, it never seemed to be enough.
The photographers hailed them both, some throwing questions at her in Spanish, Italian and French as well as English; it was dizzying, she didn’t even try to answer, acknowledging with smiles and waves instead.
Maybe it was time for her to take a break from acting. She knew Dan’s doctor had put him on medication for his heart, and tonight had really worried her. Yes … taking a year or two out would be good for both of them, if she could persuade Dan to do the same. They could go back to Ireland. Maybe not to Enniscrea, but to somewhere not too far away so she could look in on her father. Dan loved the west coast of Ireland, they both did, and they could easily find some beautiful remote spot where there’d be no distractions. Maybe Dan could write that book about French Cinema and she could have a go at writing a novel …
As they headed through the doors into the reception, Dan dropped her hand and took off without a word. She watched as he greeted David Lynch and struck up a conversation with him. These days, it was quite a novelty to find herself alone at a party, even for a few moments. She accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter and cast her eye around the crowded room to see who she could spot. Susan Sarandon, who was chatting with Bill Murray and Emily Watson, caught sight of her and mouthed, ‘See you at dinner.’ Shauna responded with a smile and a thumbs-up.
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