by Dave Warner
'That's not how I remember it,' came Charlotte's sleepy voice, behind them.
'Kid, you were overwrought from the travel. Your mind is playing tricks.'
Charlotte said her mind wasn't capable of that many tricks. She gave her account as she got ready to shower.
'I know who I believe,' said Feathers.
Leila pointed her nose at Charlotte. 'See. Feathers knows me.'
'I meant her!' said Feathers.
Before Leila could object there was a knock on the caravan door.
'Charlotte, are you up yet?' It was Strudworth.
'Just a minute.' Charlotte went over and opened the door to find a distressed Miss Strudworth.
'Bad news, I'm afraid . . .'
Before she could give the bad news a young woman arrived with the breakfast order.
'Oh, bacon and eggs, how thoughtful you ordered for me, Charlotte.'
Leila watched in horror as Strudworth began to tuck into her bacon and eggs.
'Sorry, but I eat when I'm worried,' she explained. She wasn't joking! She moved quickly on to the muesli. Feathers watched aghast. Charlotte flicked some bacon Leila's way while Strudworth's head was down.
'What's the bad news?' asked Charlotte, noting Feathers and Leila fighting over the bacon rasher.
'The cat. It wasn't Oscar. We're back to square one.'
At the rehearsal area actors and crew were drifting in, scripts in hand while the kitchen staff frantically tried to get breakfast ready, polishing cutlery and setting it out on the enormous L-shaped trestle table with massive bowls of cut fruit, plates of pastries and pots of coffee. Honey Grace was pacing, gulping a mug of steaming coffee, looking like she was contemplating death by firing squad. Her sad eyes latched onto Charlotte.
'Oh, Charlotte! You heard the news?'
Charlotte explained she had.
'I was so happy last night when I thought he had been found. The cat looked a little bit like him but it wasn't my Oscar. I don't know what to do. I couldn't sleep. I know I should be writing but I can't. I just can't think. And everybody is relying on me, and I'm letting them down and –' she ran out of steam – 'it's just awful.'
Charlotte didn't know what comfort she could offer but she tried her best. 'If Oscar is out there, alive somewhere, he needs you to keep calm.'
Honey nodded vigorously. 'You're right. I have to think of Oscar.'
'Have the Grants called back?'
Honey had to think for a moment. 'About the window cleaner? No, they haven't. Maybe I should try them again.'
Charlotte looked for Leila, who had been right behind her on the way from the trailer. She now saw her hanging around the pastries. Typical. As the kitchenhand brought out yet more gleaming cutlery, something suddenly clicked into place for Charlotte and she knew what had been bugging her yesterday.
'They weren't clean,' she exclaimed.
'What weren't?'
Charlotte beamed, certain in her knowledge. 'The windows of the Grants' apartment. When I went to look inside it was almost impossible because of the dust. I had to wipe it away and press my eyes to the glass.'
Honey shook her head sadly.
'Unfortunately, nowadays you can't rely on anybody. I suppose he knew they were away and just did a slap-dash job.'
'Or he didn't do a job at all.'
'But people saw him.'
Charlotte corrected Honey. 'People saw somebody up a ladder with a cap and overalls. Somebody who looked like a window cleaner.'
Honey was lost. 'But who else would be up a ladder looking like a window cleaner?'
'A thief?'
Miss Strudworth sounded doubtful. She and Charlotte were standing in Mr Gold's enormous living room, which was painted with a mural of Leila and Sarah-Jane from Horses for Courses, a movie in which Leila had enrolled at university for a term. Leila had been left with Consuela while the script read-through continued.
'I'm sure there are people who steal cats but it seems an awful lot of trouble to go to. What did Honey Grace think?'
'Much the same,' said Charlotte, feeling a little downcast. 'The people in the apartment block didn't need a ladder to steal Oscar and nobody else really knew him.'
'Well, if this window cleaner's credentials don't check out, your theory will have credibility, but I still can't see why they wanted the cat.'
'Maybe there is somebody out there who dislikes Honey for some reason and wants to hurt her.'
'Hmm.' Strudworth thought on this. 'Charlotte, that is very astute. Did you ask her?'
Charlotte had not mentioned it to Honey for fear of upsetting her. Strudworth was nodding slowly, pacing, turning over the possibilities.
'A jilted boyfriend perhaps? Some men do that kind of thing, Charlotte, which is why I only ever allowed Zucchini into my life. Or, professional jealousy. Let's face it, this is a ruthless town. Perhaps some other writer who was overlooked . . .'
Just then one of Mr Gold's assistants appeared. She was expensively dressed and, as on every other occasion Charlotte had spied her, carried some electronic device in her hand.
'Excuse me. Is one of you Charlotte Richards?'
Charlotte put up her hand.
'There's a phone call for you. A Mr Todd Greycroft. If you'd like to follow me?'
Charlotte turned back to Strudworth, who reassured her.
'I'll ask Mr Gold about Honey's enemies. He might have some idea. And tell Todd to make sure he goes hard on the first round and puts the pressure on the other riders.'
Mr Gold's assistant – 'I'm Zara by the way' – indicated a room off to the right. It was very neat and looked hardly used. The wooden table on which the phone sat was brightly polished with a deep red-brown hue. Charlotte sat in one of the brocade chairs and felt like some princess back in the days of horses, carriages and candlelight.
'Hi, Todd.'
'Hey, Charlie, how's it going there?' Todd sounded bright and bubbly as usual.
Charlotte didn't mean to, but with the chance to finally converse with somebody her own age and mindset she spilled out all the trials and tribulations of the last twenty-four hours. Explaining the missing Oscar, the extraordinary trailer and the encounter with the mountain lion took a good ten minutes.
'Wow,' said Todd when she finished. 'My time can't compare to that.'
Charlotte felt guilty. She hadn't even enquired about his eventing. 'So how have you gone so far?'
Todd gave a run-down of the competition, which involved riders from all over the world.
'The Argentinians are very good and the Germans almost as good as you at dressage.'
Todd had scored top points of the Milthorp contingent but was only in eleventh place overall after the dressage. Charlotte thought that was encouraging because it was jumping and cross-country where Todd really excelled.
'Hope you're right.'
Todd announced that he had to go and get ready for the jumps. 'I'll see you in Los Angeles next week,' he said.
'If Oscar doesn't turn up we may not be here next week.'
'You'll come up with something, Charlie,' he said before ringing off.
Charlotte wished she could believe that. She really did.
They had got through the first read and were taking a break before they tried moving a couple of the action scenes. Leila walked around the perimeter, soaking up the sun and snooping. She particularly enjoyed the look on Sarah-Jane's face when she clapped eyes on Leila's trailer. Pure envy. Sarah-Jane snapped out her pearl-tinted mobile and immediately called her agent.
'Herb, it's me . . . How am I? I'll tell you how I am, Herb. Very, very unhappy. I'm standing here being forced to look at a trailer at least four feet longer than mine . . . So what if Leila's a horse? She's got you all fooled. I want my trailer to be just as big.' Her face went into spasm. 'What do you mean the only one in the country?'
Suck it up, baby. Leila was lapping it up. All she needed now to top it off was a fat danish. She left Sarah-Jane ranting to her agent and was trotting pas
t the crew gathered around the coffee urn when she spied a barely touched pastry left on a crate. Finders keepers. As she neared the pastry she saw Mac, the sound guy, on his phone again. Probably trying to gamble away more of his money. Mac looked around furtively in case anybody was eavesdropping, but paid no attention to Leila as she edged closer and snaffled the pastry.
'I told you, Freddy, I transferred the money to your account. Check it . . .' There was a pause while Freddy presumably did just that. 'See, I told you I was on the level . . . What do you care where I got it from?'
Leila was enjoying the pastry. It was some kind of raspberry and honey number. Mac continued. 'I've got it, that's all that matters, right? Just give me two hundred on the Red Sox.'
The Red Sox were up against Oakland. Oakland's hitters were good against lefties and the Sox were starting a lefty. Mac was a born loser. Leila licked her lips and continued to the make-up area where Consuela was burning something in a little dish that smelled of sandalwood and sent out pink smoke. Cassandra, the make-up girl, looked curious. 'What are you doing?' she asked.
Consuela fanned the flames. 'Chasing off the evil spirits.'
'This movie sure needs it. First Tommy gets run into, then the writer's cat gets stolen. The movie is jinxed.' Cassandra looked at Leila. 'All we'd need is Leila to snap a leg –' Cassandra broke a crisp pretzel as she said it, sending a shock wave through Leila – 'and we're toast.'
Leila was totally superstitious and what Cassandra said immediately got to her. Maybe the movie was jinxed? Leila would be wrapping herself in cotton wool. No more trips through the Hollywood Hills, thank you. Leila spun around three times while singing in her head the words to a Britney Spears song backwards. It was something her pal Paris had been overheard to say brought good luck and, given what Paris had achieved with minimal talent, Leila figured it was a worth a shot. The amazing thing was that Britney's songs actually made more sense backwards than forwards.
The spinning, however, made Leila dizzy and she stumbled straight into the food cart and sent the turkey wraps flying.
'We are cursed!' somebody called out.
'This is the Macbeth of movies,' muttered another.
Leila's attempts at getting rid of the hex hadn't exactly proved successful.
'Leila, you okay?'
It was Charlotte, hurrying over.
'Yeah, I'm fine,' Leila whispered.
'You're wobbling all over the place.'
'Hey, you should have seen me when Aerosmith used to party at Chateau Marmand.'
Charlotte's attention was stolen by Sarah-Jane heading right towards her. She did not seem happy.
'Don't think I don't know what your game is.'
Charlotte looked around to see if she was talking to anybody else.
'I'm talking to you, Kangaroo Jill.'
'My name is Charlotte.'
Charlie wanted to be polite but there were limits. She noted Sarah-Jane's entourage already beginning to move towards them in a wave.
'Think you're pretty special getting yourself that trailer with a pizza oven, plasma and phone lines, don't you?'
'It was nothing to do with me.'
Sarah-Jane jabbed a finger at her. 'Darn right it was nothing to do with you. I'm the star, got it? I'm the kid in Leila's life. You keep away from my turf.'
Before Charlotte could reply, Sarah-Jane turned on her heel and started towards her minders, publicists and flunkeys.
'Oh, go blow it out your butt, midget-brain,' snapped Leila.
Sarah-Jane turned slowly and began to advance again on Charlotte. 'What did you say?'
Charlotte could tell the truth, which was 'nothing', but then it might seem like she'd backed down. And Charlotte never backed down. 'You heard.'
She was again aware of Leila's annoying line about lies being part and parcel of Hollywood.
Sarah-Jane was stunned. 'Fine. You want to be fired, congratulations, you got your wish.'
'You can't fire me.'
Charlotte and Sarah-Jane were now nose to nose. The hangers-on were standing there, listening to every word, stunned that somebody would talk to Sarah-Jane the way they wished they could.
Sarah-Jane smiled thinly. 'I'll get Mr Gold to fire you.'
Charlotte was unmoved. 'He can't fire me either. I'm here at the request of Leila's owner. You lose me, you lose Leila. And we all know how well your last picture did without her, don't we?'
There as an audible intake of collective breath behind her that seemed to make Sarah-Jane's skin pucker. She had been stopped in her tracks. Her finger shook with anger. 'Just stay out of my way.'
For the second time she fled, her groupies rushing behind her.
Leila let out a low whistle. 'Got to say, Charlie, you could really make it in this town.'
Charlotte had found the whole thing unpleasant. 'Come on. Let's get you back for the action run through.'
As they started back they found one of the gaffers handing out lucky rabbits' feet to his cronies. Leila explained how everybody thought the movie was jinxed.
'There's no hex, it's just coincidence,' said Charlotte firmly.
'You've got some nasty scratches there,' came a voice to their left. They turned to see the first aid nurse nodding at the arm of one of Tommy's assistants.
'Brambles got me,' he replied.
'Well, I'd better put some antiseptic cream on,' said the nurse. 'Way this movie is going you'll end up with bubonic plague.'
Charlotte met Leila's gaze with more assurance than she felt.
'It's in their heads,' she said. 'There's no curse on the movie.'
'It's like there's a curse on this movie,' said a worried Joel Gold later as he stood on the porch and watched the last of the crew peel away. Hector Martinez and Hawthorne shared his gloomy expression as they sipped iced tea with Strudworth. Charlotte and Leila were on lemonade.
'Caroline,' Mr Gold nodded at Strudworth, 'wondered if anybody might have taken Oscar to hurt Honey.'
'Deliberately took him?' Martinez's face curled in doubt.
'A cat-snatcher?' Hawthorn infected the word with incredulity.
Strudworth distanced herself. 'It was actually Charlotte's idea.'
Charlotte went red with embarrassment.
'Everybody likes Honey,' said Martinez.
'Everybody,' echoed Hawthorn.
'A jilted boyfriend perhaps?' suggested Strudworth.
All three men shook their heads.
'Not Honey,' said Joel Gold.
'Every inch the spinster,' said Martinez.
Hawthorn didn't comment, just shook his head.
'Still,' added Mr Gold, 'it was an idea. In fact, Charlotte, you've been so helpful I thought you might like to take in Excelsior Studios tonight.'
'Thanks, but I should keep Leila exercised.'
'Take her with you,' said Martinez. 'After the studio closes to the public why don't you go over for a look? You can go wherever you please. Hawthorn will meet you, right Hawthorn?'
'Yes, sir!'
Mr Gold wagged a finger, 'But don't stay out too late. Tomorrow is the first day of shooting and we need Leila fresh.'
After dinner they hitched Leila's float to the limousine and Fernando drove them across to Excelsior Studios. Miss Strudworth was meeting up with some former 'combatants' as she called them – riders who she had competed against in her heyday – so she did not join them. They entered via a special gate where Hawthorn was waiting. He showed Fernando where to park and handed a pass and map to Charlotte.
'Just start here and work your way up to Main Street,' he said. 'Anything you want to see. Unfortunately I have a lot on with the movie starting shooting tomorrow and can't stay.'
Charlotte thanked him, told Fernando to expect them back in about an hour, mounted Leila and trotted off.
It was a warm night and the studio lots were well lit. They trotted past the empty 'train', which during working hours carried patrons around the various locations. Leila was animated. 'First stop, the
popcorn fountain.'
Charlotte allowed Leila to lead her to the fountain that was in the shape of a small rocket on a launch pad.
'Put your pass in,' ordered Leila.
Charlotte did as she was told, sliding her pass into the slot. Immediately a giant bucket appeared beneath the rocket. Moments later, popcorn gushed into the bucket until it was overflowing.
'Way to go, Charlie. Now, the Terror-tory.'
This, as it turned out, was an area devoted to the studio's very successful horror movies, especially Suckers, which was about a rampant giant squid that had featured in three smash movies.
'Can't catch me, can't catch me!' taunted Leila as the giant mechanical tentacles swung this way and that. They took a tunnel into an aquarium area filled with real sharks, fish and stingrays. It was a little spooky with nobody else around, but for Charlotte, who had never seen the ocean up close and had never been underwater, it was breathtaking. Leila finished off the popcorn and hustled them out to the backlots. They rode through Gulch Valley, a series of sets made to look like a western town. It reminded Charlotte of Snake Hills. Cardboard gunslingers suddenly appeared in windows and from behind carts and began firing strawberry-flavoured paintballs. Leila made sure Charlotte got hit plenty. Charlotte enjoyed dodging as the balls powered towards her. From there it was onto the mechanical Pirate Ship which 'sailed' from one side of the lake to the other. Actually the ship ran on tracks under the water but the effect was just as if you were sailing on an ocean. Particularly enjoyable was the lemonade 'monsoon', where lemonade rained down upon you. Ponchos and hats were provided to keep your clothes dry. Leila, of course, refused either. They worked their way through the amusement park, Leila having a great laugh on the carousel, where she posed as a wooden horse. They got off the carousel and headed for the main street.
Leila nodded at a large white building. 'This was the university I attended in Horses for Courses. During the day it's actually where the accountants work. And here is the Leila pavilion!' Leila nodded proudly at the building which was shaped like the rear end of a horse. The entry door was behind a large tail that swished from side to side.
