4 Camera ... Action ... Murder!

by Faith Mortimer

  Despite Diana’s earlier protests about wearing long dresses in the daytime, she was soon tearing off her summer dress and sandals to step into the emerald-green full-skirted velvet dress.

  “Oh, Steve, it’s so exquisite! Isn’t it funny how women’s dresses were made to give a conical shape to a woman and the men’s silhouettes were wide and square? I expect it was how they thought men and women were supposed to look, figure-wise. You know, even back then, the materials were sumptuous. They loved silks and satins and used the finest linens and velvet with abandon. And they added layers to enhance the ensemble.”

  “I know about the fabrics, but I’ve never thought much about the layers.”

  “Each one was necessary, and there were a minimum of four. They were smock, petticoat, kirtle, and gown. It all depended where you were in Henry VIII’s reign because the additional layers were farthingale, forepart, and partlet. The finishing touch was a headdress which was either the French hood or the English or Gable hood. Making a dress back then must have taken ages. I remember reading somewhere that for Anne Boleyn’s coronation dress, yards and yards of satin were used. Nowadays, it would be far too costly to reproduce. This dress here is gorgeous, but nothing like as much work has gone into the making of it. Can you please hook me up?” Diana spun round and then stood in front of the mirror. The deep-green velvet matched her eyes and contrasted strongly with her reddish-brown hair.

  “Oh, beautiful,” she breathed. “If I’m just one of the crowd in tomorrow’s photo shoot, then I can’t wait to see what Caroline and the other film stars will be wearing. Let’s see yours on you, then. I want to see if I’d fancy a courtier of the Tudor times. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you dressed in tights!”

  ***

  Dinner was a sumptuous affair and something at which Isabelle excelled. She had been brought up in a world where fine dining was important, and as Diana gazed along the enormously long table set with exotic flowers, exquisite crystal and silverware, she noticed how everything was laid to perfection. Although it was a certainty Isabelle hadn’t laid the place settings or polished the cutlery and candelabra herself, she made sure each placing was the correct number of inches away from the next. Diana pitied the person whose task it had been. Isabelle could be a Tartar.

  Diana was glad she had brought an assortment of evening clothes with her. She took time choosing a pale ice-green and gold dress, which she knew suited her looks and figure. She looked at everyone with interest, and saw that apart from those guests she and Steve had already spoken to, there were a number of newcomers seated at that night’s dinner. Once Diana was shown her place between Russell and Patrick, she noticed she had been placed opposite two film actors who were household names in many British homes. Holding in her excitement, Diana tried not to openly stare at beautiful character actress, Jessica Roberts, nor to openly drool over tasty Johnny Speer. She particularly remembered Johnny in his last historical film where he played a swashbuckling pirate in a dazzling white shirt. She deliberately tried to imagine Steve in the same. When she switched her hot gaze to her handsome husband in his white evening dress shirt and remembered what they had been doing the previous hour, she nearly choked on her champagne. She felt her face flame. What did she want with film stars?

  Whilst the dishes were brought from the kitchen, Diana looked around at the other seated guests. There was a sprinkling of faces she either recognised vaguely or not at all, and she decided they were either minor film actors or something to do with Lodestone Pictures. All in all, with the gorgeous coloured dresses topped with sparkling jewellery and the men in their evening suits, it was a glittering affair and reminded Diana of a charity dinner where a ticket cost a small fortune. Everyone introduced themselves to their nearest neighbours, and within minutes the ice had been broken as they raised their knife and forks for the first course.

  There was a faint tinkling against a glass. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I can just have a moment of your time, I’d like to introduce you to Andrew Downs from Lodestone Pictures. Andrew is the executive producer for Lodestone, and without him, The Holbein Legacy would still be in my dreams. Andrew is representing our financial investor in the project, and I’d like you to make him especially welcome during his short stay with us. Please,” Duncan paused, smiled and spreading his arms expansively continued, “be extra nice to him!”

  There was general laughter over Duncan’s light-hearted little gesture, and a polite clapping of hands followed when Andrew Downs stood and took a short bow. No one could help noticing the awkward smile on his face as he glanced at Isabelle, who simpered in response.

  Steve grinned at Di, while Russell muttered in her ear. “Money always talks.”

  Diana picked up her wine glass and using it as a shield, mumbled behind it. “Maybe, but surely we’re here simply as guests. The film has nothing to do with us really—we’re just the original cast. But after seeing the costumes, without meaning to be unkind, I’ve a sneaky feeling Duncan’s using us as cheap advertising.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean, my sweet. Remember the old proverb—a leopard never changes its spots. Despite his grand bonhomie, Duncan’s almost as bad as Isabelle in some ways. He’s always used people to suit his own ends, and that’s often included his lady friends.”

  “You do surprise me, Russell. I never knew that. So what about Caroline then? Where does she come from and feature in all this?”

  “Caroline? Oh, I heard she’s the daughter of an old flame from way back. I believe Duncan bumped into her up in London recently, and Caroline was introduced. So, if you think about Caroline and her mother, you can guess there’s a huge difference in age between Duncan and his new lady.”

  “I see. But apart from it not being our business, what’s their actual relationship? Is she sleeping with him?”

  Russell shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Everyone else assumes so.”

  Shocked at how bitter he sounded and not understanding why, Diana shot a look at Russell. She was instantly taken back to many years ago. It was before Sebastian, Russell’s son, was born. She was surprised and thought Russell was over it.

  For so long as Di could remember, Duncan always loved women. Apart from their obvious sexual attraction to him, women were as necessary to Duncan as living and breathing. He always needed to have a beauty hanging on his arm, despite Isabelle lurking in the background. Everyone had heard him at some time or other explaining to his plain wife that ‘she’—the latest—female was only a decoration. Clarifying things, being a director and playwright, he had to be seen with attractive women around him, and they were necessary to his persona. Of course, not everyone believed Duncan’s thin excuse, and more than a few thought him to be just oversexed. Sensible people took it all as a bit of a joke, but if a woman valued her reputation, she kept him at arm’s length just to be on the safe side.

  Back then, the lovely Emily had been Duncan’s latest lady. In fact, Diana remembered her lasting a lot longer than most, if not the longest—apart from Isabelle, of course. They were inseparable for a couple of years until something happened, and Emily and Duncan suddenly split up. She remembered Duncan going around with a face like thunder for weeks when he thought no one was looking, and Diana had felt sorry for him. She thought he might have fallen truly in love for once.

  Why Diana was thinking about Emily, she couldn’t think. She guessed all those years ago from working with and watching Russell that he too had been obsessed with Emily. And she was surprised at herself for thinking about this piece of history because Emily and Russell had got together immediately after Emily and Duncan parted. Russell must have been over the moon, having desired Emily for so long. Russell and Emily lived together until she died, and Diana knew of no reason why he should be bitter.

  Diana held back a sigh. Sometimes she wondered about human drama: all those tiny, minute things which went into living, causing a ripple of effects to spread across the pool.

  The room was hot and stuffy from everyon
e gathered around the table. The final course had been cleared away, and Diana was glad to see the last of the dishes being carried back to the kitchens by the small army of waiters. The food was delicious, but the lingering smell and richness of it all was beginning to sit heavily in Diana’s stomach. The bottles of wine kept coming, and she knew if she didn’t stop drinking now, tomorrow was looking decidedly doubtful.

  Duncan once again tapped his glass gently with his spoon to capture everyone’s attention. “Now I expect you’re all wondering about the costumes you’ve found in your rooms. For these magnificent outfits, you have my dear wife, Isabelle, to thank. It was Isabelle’s idea to get everyone dressed up in such finery and for us to have a jolly day or two being photographed around the house and grounds. We’d be delighted if you could all wear your costume after an early breakfast tomorrow. The weather promises to be fine, and the early morning sun should produce the perfect light for our photographers.” There was a general murmur from the guests, and Duncan waited until they finished before continuing.

  “I expect you’ve all met Sebastian here?” He paused to indicate a blushing Sebastian sitting further down the table from him. “He’ll be joined by a small camera crew first thing in the morning. There’ll be hair and make-up artists to help you get the right look of the period, although most of you ladies will be wearing hoods, and of course, there will be hats for the men. You’ll find the make-up crew in the blue sitting room. And you’ll no doubt be thinking we have a splendid opportunity here to publicise the film. We need to maximise our potential, as the real filming is scheduled to commence next month. Tomorrow, I promise, will be a fun day with ample refreshment provided throughout. If we need to, we will take more shots the following day. But if the stills look promising, then we’ll round it up by tomorrow. You’ll find a list in the library of the parts you’re each to play-act during the day and where you’ll be needed at certain times.” Everyone looked surprised at this. It was the first time they had heard about role-playing.

  “It’s all very simple, and there are no lines to learn of course, except for those who are going to be in The Holbein Diaries proper. Those actors already have their scripts. We’ll begin with some long shots of the house and then some general ones of everyone milling around and walking down to the lake where there will be a picnic. Tables and chairs will be set out on the grass in front of the lake, complete with sun canopies depicting the period. After the filming of the picnic, there’ll be a break for everyone except Caroline, who is going to recite a soliloquy from one of the boats. She and Seb are the only ones needed for this scene. You can, of course, watch from the shore. I think that’s all you need to know for now. Thank you, everyone, for your splendid cooperation. I’m aware we couldn’t do this without you, and it’s because I count each one of you as a friend that we can. Enjoy the few days here. Thank you from both Isabelle and myself.” Duncan gave the whole gathered company a huge beam before his gaze settled on Caroline. He raised his glass to her, and Diana noticed the look he passed to her was one of fondness and indulgence.

  “See,” murmured Russell. “I told you. We’re all friends now. I don’t remember being called that when we were part of the company on miserable pay. And he’ll get free publicity by having us, the original cast, involved too.”

  Diana flinched. Russell was making a fuss. “Does it really matter, Russell? It gives us all an opportunity to meet and catch up. So what if we’re free extras. It would cost a fortune to hire other actors. I’m not bothered, and nobody else looks like they are either. Look around. Everyone seems enthusiastic and looks ready to enjoy whatever Duncan and Isabelle have planned for us tomorrow. Relax. You chided me earlier when I moaned about wearing costume. As you said then, we’ll most likely enjoy it.”

  Russell smiled and took a sip of his wine. “You’re right. I’m being a wet blanket, and it’s a pleasure staying in this beautiful house with old friends. It’s certainly something the likes of us will never own. My bedroom is huge and the bathroom not a lot smaller. Sorry. I’ll behave now.” He leant over and kissed her cheek. “I promise.”

  There was an excited buzz of conversation from everyone once Duncan sat down. They all guessed beforehand something special was planned for the next day, but no one knew for certain just what. It all sounded a lot more involved than simply donning a Tudor costume and parading around in it. Now it appeared they were to act out parts as well. Diana and Steve didn’t mind because it was something new to do, and they had already said it would be a real laugh. Caroline was going to be delighted. Not only was she starring in the coming film, but Duncan had singled her out. He was certainly indulging his golden girl. Di briefly wondered what Isabelle must be thinking. Despite Russell’s last words to her, Diana still felt slightly irritated with him, and she deliberately looked past Patrick to catch Steve’s eye. In doing so, she noticed a very resentful look on the face of the leading lady, Jessica Roberts. Diana was startled that one so lovely could look so sour. Jessica caught Diana looking at her, and her face instantly changed. She smiled sweetly in Di’s direction and then turning towards Johnny Speer, asked him a question.

  Diana chuckled to herself because she thought she knew what the other woman was thinking. Caroline was not only younger than Jessica, but it was common knowledge she was Duncan’s protégée too, and judging from her ebullient laughter, she was certainly enjoying life at that moment. It also passed through Diana’s mind that Jessica might have had designs on the director. It wouldn’t be the first time someone was bowled over by the magnificence of the house and grounds. And Duncan rarely let anyone know it was his wife’s property and not his.

  Thinking again about Isabelle, Diana’s gaze shifted to where she was sitting. The chatelaine was for once looking gracious, and with surprise, Diana realised her good humour was actually directed towards Caroline. Isabelle was standing next to the starlet’s chair and appeared to be having an animated and friendly conversation with her.

  Goodness me, Diana thought. That’s a turn up for the books. She wondered what her real motive was.

  Chapter 6

  Diana woke up to Steve placing a cup of tea on the bedside table next to her. She gingerly opened one eye.

  “Good morning, darling. Sleep well?” he asked, giving her a kiss on her bare shoulder.

  Diana opened her eyes wider. “I did. This bed is remarkably comfortable. I slept like a log, but I had some odd dreams.”

  “Nothing to do with the alcohol then?” he asked with a hint of tease in his voice.

  Diana laughed. “Alcohol? Rubbish! I didn’t have that much.”

  “You only drank a glass of champagne, followed by a couple of reds, and a Bailey’s or two after. No, not much.” Steve sat down next to Diana on the bed.

  “Two. I had two glasses of champagne, but who’s counting? Anyway, I’ve been really good ever since Poppy, so I thought why not enjoy myself for once. It wasn’t as if we had to drive home afterwards. At least I don’t have a headache. Oh, I wish I could stay in in bed a bit longer. Is it really only six?” She snuggled closer.

  “There’s no time for cuddling. We’re supposed to be downstairs in half an hour. Come on, drink up, and then I’ll lace you into your costume.”

  “Bully.”

  ***

  As Diana glided down the stairs, that morning, she felt like she had stepped back to the time of Hans Holbein, the painter to Henry VIII in 1535. Everywhere she looked there were lords and ladies of the court. Making her way along to the blue sitting room she passed at least two duchesses and three earls.

  Diana was invited to sit down by a make-up artist who swiftly applied face powder and highlighted her eyes. The artist chose some baubles from a tray on one of the tables, and Diana was soon sporting a double-length rope of false pearls which reached down almost to her waist. Because Diana was wearing a matching French hood, there was no need to do anything with her hair, and she was soon free to mingle with the other actors.

  Slipping
outside, Diana went in search of her friends and laughed when she saw Russell and Patrick in costume. They were as trussed up as she was in her long full skirts. Both men were dressed in heavy jackets slashed through to reveal a white shirt on Patrick and a bright lining of a contrasting colour on the jacket’s sleeves. This was repeated further down the jacket and revealed his hose. Patrick’s slashes were long and parallel or "panes", he explained. On Russell’s jacket, the slashes were shorter and the under material was pulled out through the gap creating a puff. Both costumes were heavily embroidered in coloured silks of gold or silver thread.

  While she was examining their costumes with interest, Steve appeared from the house and the men turned to compare theirs to Steve’s which was quilted. Within a minute, Russell and Steve were preening and horsing around. Patrick looked on mildly amused.

  “Very swanky, I must say! I thought it was only women who were interested in clothes,” she said with a giggle. “You three are a real trio of popinjays.”

  “Popinjays? Now there’s a good old English word. Circa twelve to thirteen hundreds I believe,” said Russell.

  “Well, you’re the school teacher. I could have called you dandies or fops, but popinjay also means egotistical and talk a lot!” she chortled.