Sins of Sarah

by Anne Styles

  'I think it worked,' she told him cheerfully. 'I think he's finally left Diana. He says he's asked her for a divorce. Though I'll only really believe it when I hear the wedding march!'

  'Oh, no, if Nick says that, he means it. He can be vicious and cruel - I've seen him be both - but he keeps a promise, that I'll guarantee, and I know he adores you.' James ruffled her hair. 'I think somehow. Miss Campbell, you may have brought our tough man to his knees! There will be many a lady out there wondering how you did it when the news gets out!'

  'It won't get out yet, I hope.' Sarah looked worried. 'We have to keep it really secret from the Press. Diana just knows he wants a divorce, but not why.'

  'Well, the leak won't come from me. My lady wife wouldn't be pleased if I did the dirty on you two!'

  'You sound as if you've been married for years, not weeks. You'll be calling her ''er indoors' next!'

  'Only when I'm mad! Pick you up in an hour - we can brave Mr O'Hara together. I hear he is one for a bevy or two with the boys - definitely not like Nicholas.'

  Their director, a jolly, roly-poly Irish-American, was certainly a total contrast to Nick. Easygoing and full of filthy anti-British jokes. Bob O'Hara believed in enjoying life to the full and Ireland was his spiritual home. Originally he hadn't really wanted two English stars, but Seth had overruled him, and, being the man he was, and after viewing Home Leave he'd accepted the status quo and had wisely decided that Seth was right.

  Bundled up against the chill wind that blustered relentlessly across St Stephen's Green, they explored a few local bars after dinner, and in the glow left by a great deal of Guinness they all began to get on famously and soon cemented their friendship. The Americans in the crew could hardly believe how easy their two stars were to work with. Totally without airs and graces, and always cheerful despite the awful weather on the first two weeks of location in the Wicklow mountains, they never complained. Being an American-financed film, there were luxurious caravans for all the stars, but James and Sarah, to the crew's astonishment, preferred to share the same one, playing backgammon when they weren't required to work or the weather closed in on them.

  The backgammon competition almost threatened to overtake the poker school as time went on, and more of the unit were drawn to take part. James was winning so handsomely they all began to pray for better weather!

  Alex got his own back on James within weeks of starting. They were shooting a scene in a cottage which called for James and Sarah to be handcuffed to a brass bedstead by the enemy they were pursuing. Amid great hilarity, and a lot of doubtful jokes, the scene progressed until lunchtime, and then, as the crew broke for lunch, Alex grinned. 'Have fun kids!' he told them, his eyes twinkling, and walked out of the cottage with the hand-cuffs key in his pocket.

  'I don't believe this!' James exclaimed in amazement.

  'He said he'd get you!' Sarah began to giggle. 'What on earth shall we do?'

  James tried wriggling out of the bracelets. 'Not a lot, is the answer. Damn it, I walked straight into this!'

  'Try yelling to get them to come back. Perhaps Alex just forgot,' she suggested, still laughing as she sat on the bed.

  'He didn't forget! And I'm not giving him the satisfaction of yelling for him. That's just what the bastard wants.' James began to smile at their predicament. 'Move over - after all that Murphys last night I need a kip!' When an apologetic Alex came rushing back to release them, having truly forgotten about them after the initial ten minutes were up, he found them both fast asleep on the bed. It seemed a shame to wake them, he thought, and simply unlocked the handcuffs and left them to it. But naturally enough he couldn't resist taking a snap or two.

  'You might have pulled my skirt down!' was Sarah's only complaint, but she laughed as she said it.

  'Just back me up if it gets back to Cress,' James begged her.

  'Hen-pecked already, James?' Alex teased.

  'Just watch your Murphys tonight!' was the furious retort.

  The practical jokes were endless after that, James and Sarah smuggled half a sheep's skeleton into Alex's bed one night. James found his gun substituted for a water pistol and soaked one of the stuntmen not best known for his good humour. Alex then found his wardrobe filled with ladies' clothes when his wife opened it on her first visit.

  Sarah was having such a good time she almost forgot to miss Nick.

  Playing comedy was a new thing to her after all the drama she had been doing, though she had always clowned around with Peter on the TV programme. She learnt a great deal from James over the weeks - he was certainly a master at it, she decided - and the two grew even closer now they were relieved of any sexual element in their relationship. They made convincing and passionate love for the screen, and hugged and kissed in private, but both felt safe with each other.

  Bob O'Hara viewed his rushes with growing pleasure, and the enthusiasm was repeated in Seth Waterston's office in London. Nick passed on the enthusiasm in his long phone calls from Los Angeles. He was as good as his word and came over to see her as often as he could in between transatlantic trips, usually coming with Cress.

  With the help of some of the Irish crew, James and Sarah sussed out a selection of country hotels and the four of them went together, safe in the freedom of the Irish countryside. No one knew or cared who they were. James introduced Nick to the Murphys and Beamish he was getting to know well, and to his surprise Nick enjoyed the experiment more and more.

  'Could be the oysters and smoked salmon that make it taste good.' Sarah laughed, still uncertain, herself, of the dark strong brew.

  'Certainly tastes different here than it does at home,' Nick commented.

  'That's because you're drinking so much more of it,' Cress declared, laughing. 'Oh, just look at those children!' They were watching some little girls entertaining the bar customers with their Irish dancing. Sarah's feet were already tapping in sympathy. Laughing, the children's leader caught her hand and pulled her into their midst, expecting to make the regulars laugh at the tall blonde English girl. But Sarah proved her wrong, picking up the rhythms quickly and earning rounds of applause for her flashing feet.

  'I've done it before,' she confessed to Nick as she went back to them. 'I did it at school.'

  'That was obvious!' James commented wickedly. 'Showing off as usual, woman.'

  'Well, they're playing grown-up dances now,' Sarah rejoined. 'Come on, big mouth!' She whirled him onto the floor, leaving Cress and Nick together.

  'Should we join them?' Cress asked, watching anxiously as James flirted merrily with the girls he was dancing with.

  'I don't suppose we have much option,' Nick replied with a grin. 'I'm beginning to know that one only too well!'

  'And loving every minute of it by the look of you,' Cress said. 'She's taken years off you. Nick!' 'Long may it remain so.' He sighed. 'I love her, Cress. I'm crazy to do it but I can't help it, I'm afraid.'

  'You had to come unstuck sooner or later,' she said softly, and took his hand. 'Come on, let's join them.'

  Nick held her back for a moment. 'You're good at giving me advice,' he said, 'let me give you some, Cress. Don't be so possessive with James. You never take your eyes off him. He's committed to you - he's not going to leave you - not now.'

  Cress smiled sadly. 'You're right. Love does strange things to people, doesn't it?'

  * * *

  The next weekend Sarah rented a cottage from a farmer near to where they were filming in Wicklow. She borrowed a unit Range Rover and drove James out to the airport to catch a flight to London and sat in the bar waiting for Nick's plane to arrive, trying to look inconspicuous.

  It was bitterly cold and she was bundled up in a new fur- trimmed parka she had bought in Grafton Street in desperation against the climate. Nick hardly recognized her as he came into the bar. Laughing at his bewilderment, Sarah threw herself at him, shaking the hood down, lifting her face to be kissed.

  'There was a group of English people in here so I was trying not to be see
n,' she explained. 'I've planned everything,' she added as she led the way to the car. 'I've organized food, and some whisky, and Neil is going to leave a fire for us.' Nick smiled at her enthusiasm. 'Does that mean you're planning for us to stay in all weekend?' 'It's too cold to do anything else!' She handed him the keys to the car as they reached it.

  'Where's my assertive girlfriend, then?' he laughed as he threw his bag in the back. 'Are you frightened of driving me suddenly?'

  'No, but it's just a bit rough on those tracks, and slippery - wait and see!'

  'This is a four-wheel drive car.'

  'We'll need it, I assure you.' She leant over to kiss him. 'How are the new offices?' How comfortable we are, just like an old married couple, she thought, smiling as he drove and told her about the first week in the new studio complex. She chatted easily about the shoot, and the latest practical jokes, almost forgetting to tell him about the turning as she did so.

  'The Ritz, it isn't,' she told him as she unlocked the door. 'But it's really cosy.' While Nick carried their bags in she knelt to light the fire laid in the hearth and then ran to the tiny kitchen to heat up the supper she had craftily persuaded the film caterers to provide for her. Priding herself on her efficiency, she brought him a whisky as he got his bearings in the tiny cottage.

  'It's lovely,' he enthused, drawing her against him. 'And I've missed you this week.' He was amused by her efforts and insisted on helping her, bringing in wood after they had eaten and helping her wash the dishes. 'That's enough work,' he told her then, and fetched the quilt from the bed to throw on the floor in front of the fire, 'I need you now. I can't wait until we go to bed. Anyway, this room is warmer.' He was gentle and tender as he made love to her, wrapping the quilt around them afterwards as they drank wine, and made plans for Christmas, two weeks away.

  'I have to go home for a few days,' he told her, knowing she would hate it. 'I need to see Charlotte, even if things aren't too comfortable with Diana.'

  'Does Charlotte know yet?' Sarah asked.

  'No.' He was firm. 'I won't tell her yet. She's in the middle of exams. It will only upset her unnecessarily.'

  'I hate all this hiding,' she sighed.

  'So do I,' he admitted. 'But don't worry, it'll happen -1 promise. Now, how would you like to come out to LA just after Christmas? You have two weeks off, don't you?'

  'Oh, Nick, yes,' she breathed. 'Do we dare?'

  'Of course we dare! I have my house in Malibu so we will be completely private. You'll love it, it's right on the beach. I've booked two seats the day after Boxing Day.'

  'So you're telling me, then?' she laughed.

  'I guess so.' He smiled. 'I assumed you'd want to come. I'd take you skiing, but Seth would kill me if I let you break something with three weeks' shooting left!'

  'I can live with Malibu!' She grinned. 'Can we go to Vegas too?'

  'Anywhere you like, my darling. I'll look forward to being a tourist for once.' He reached over and built up the fire to keep them warm in the bedroom, then lifted her up in the quilt and carried her to the bed.

  * * *

  From the cold and damp of Ireland to the comfortable warmth of California was a lovely surprise. Even at LAX airport tanned people were wandering around in shorts and T-shirts, and Sarah quickly shook off her light lethargy as she absorbed the sun. At Nick's instigation she had exchanged her wintry polo neck for a shirt on the plane and she was glad she had as he led her out to the waiting car. In dark glasses, with her hair twisted into a knot, she had avoided being recognized by their fellow passengers - to Nick's relief. He knew they were taking a risk in travelling together, but for ten days alone he had decided the risk was worth it.

  He seemed at home the moment the car met the Pacific Coast Highway, eagerly pointing out features and places as they drove into Malibu, only slightly dismayed when indicating Alice's Restaurant - from Arlo Guthrie's song - to find that Sarah was too young to have even heard of it. She was more fascinated with the wildly varying houses that clung to the side of the highway, precariously perched over the beach itself, in every style, it seemed, from mock Tudor to timber shack.

  'I used to have one of those,' Nick said. 'Now I've moved up to the Canyon- better view and more privacy.' He leant forward to give the driver a key to the gateway he had pulled into. Sarah had the impression of a lush green garden, thick vegetation, and palm trees surrounding a small, deep blue pool as they stopped outside the front door.

  Nick put her bags down in the hall, and for a moment he was busy with the gate control for the driver. Then with a smile he turned to her and swept her into his arms. 'Welcome to my house, darling,' he said softly. 'Our house soon, I hope.' For the whole of the ten-hour flight he had longed to kiss her, and finally he could, at length and deeply, his tongue finding hers, his palms slowly caressing the point where her breasts curved into fullness. 'I should have carried you over the threshold,' he said regretfully as he eventually lifted his head.

  Sarah smiled and looked around. 'Think how that would have shocked your driver!'

  'Cosmo? Nothing would surprise him! This is Hollywood! And before you ask, only Diana has been here before you, and she hates the place.'

  'I can't imagine why. Nick, it's lovely,' Sarah protested. He let her go, and moved around the vast cathedral-ceilinged living room opening curtains and then windows to reveal the deep turquoise ocean in front of them.

  'She doesn't like America, period,' he said shortly, and disappeared into the kitchen behind the living room to check the cupboards. 'Good, Maria has left enough food to prevent us from starving,' he commented. 'But I'll have to run up to Trancas later for bread and stuff. You'll like that, it has a great deli counter - all your favourite olives!'

  He opened a carton of orange juice at Sarah's request and carried the glasses to where she stood on the deck that ran the length of the front of the house. The back was always the front when it overlooked the ocean, he told her. 'I want you to love it as I do,' he confessed. 'It'll be our home together; I promise you.' Watching a man and his dog running along the beach, Sarah sighed with pleasure.

  'It's beautiful Nick, much nicer than Regent's Park. That seems so formal; this is ... well, comfortable, somehow.' Nick looked back at the airy living room with her eyes. He had chosen every piece of fabric and furniture with comfort in mind, and she echoed his feelings exactly.

  Huge, squashy beige sofas and bleached oak furniture predominated. The occasional black lacquer Chinese- style piece relieved the paleness, as did the cushions and a chair in a modem, splashy deep purple and cream print. The inevitable piano, also in black lacquer, stood across one comer, carefully shielded from the strong sun, and a tall bleached-oak cabinet with two side-wings held hi-fi equipment and the stacks of books and tapes that Nick was always surrounded with, in office or home.

  'Well, I love it,' she said firmly. 'Just as it is.'

  'And you haven't seen the bedroom yet!' he teased. 'You can even lie in the Jacuzzi and look at the ocean.'

  'Jacuzzi? Really?'

  'Standard fixture!' He lifted her up and carried her into the master suite, then went to run the bath. He was right, she thought, a few minutes later, when she lay in the softly frothing water, her head cradled against his shoulder as he soaped her body, and she gave a sigh of contentment.

  'You really could take a swim in this thing,' she marvelled.

  'Warmer than the sea too,' he said. 'That's not to be recommended at the moment - even the surfers wear wet suits! But the pool is heated, and the garden is private enough for swimming naked. I often do.'

  'Oh, Nick, I can't wait to live here.' Sarah turned then, her body slick with soap, and slid her hands over him, making him groan with desire as she did so. Wet and slippery with soap, his body claimed hers as she knelt astride him in the bubbling water, her hands gripping his shoulders to balance herself as he thrust powerfully into her, making her scream with pleasure. Even dulled by the water, a glorious climax overwhelmed them swiftly, leaving Sa
rah blissfully relaxed in his arms as he held her.

  'I've lain here night after night longing for us to do just this,' he confessed huskily as she finally lifted her head to press long kisses on the soft, smooth skin of his neck. 'I love you so much,' he added. 'I want to marry you more than anything I've ever wanted.'

  'Even though I've never heard of Arlo Guthrie?' she teased gently.

  'I can live with that,' he assured her. 'Can you really live with me?'

  'We have ten days to find out,' Sarah promised him. 'I don't care if Diana leaves us with just this place. I have a flat in London too, remember? I just wish we were together now.'

  'I know,' he sighed. 'But I'm going to be travelling all over the place for the next few months. I can'! take you with me, much as I'd like to. A South American jungle is no place for romance, believe me! Be patient, angel.'

  And with that, she had to be content. They were happy together, and in love, during those warm days of freedom. Rising late and pottering round the house and garden, not bothering to dress, they were completely relaxed and at ease with each other, making love whenever the mood took them - and wherever. It was even a novelty to go shopping together in the supermarket along the road, teasing and laughing over each other's likes and dislikes.

  Nick kept a Jaguar in the garage, though he frequently had a studio car if he was working, and she was soon out on the highway in the Jag exploring the local area. Alone, and then with Nick as her guide, she especially loved the Getty Museum he took her to, perched up on the cliff-side, and marvelled at the mind-blowing paintings and artefacts on display.

  Confident that they were unrecognized, they took a few days' trip up the coast to San Francisco and then on to Las Vegas as he indulged her expressed wishes. 'I'm only sorry I can't emulate Charlie's helicopter,' he smiled at her as they boarded a flight at LAX.

  'Forget it.' Sarah smiled, her hand in his. 'I'd rather be with you. Nick.'

  He took her to stay at the Mark Hopkins, and to see the view from its famous top floor bar; they rode the cable cars for hours and then took a boat to Sausalito to browse around the many craft shops, where he bought her delicate silver jewellery and pretty glass beads that she enthused over. Then they moved on to Las Vegas, where they caught the legendary Broadway star. Mark Winford, in cabaret and Nick taught her to play blackjack in the casino - only to be mortified when she won and he lost.