by Susan Lewis
‘No. No, she didn’t go out with Luke.’
There was something in Felicity’s manner that made Corrie stop chewing and look at her. ‘Then where is she?’ Corrie asked.
‘I was hoping you might be able to answer that question,’ Felicity said.
Corrie’s eyes were suddenly very narrow. ‘What’s happened?’ she said. ‘She was coming here. When I last saw her …’
‘She came,’ Felicity interrupted. ‘She was here about two hours ago … I thought she might have come back to you.’
By now Corrie was trying very hard not to panic. ‘Why? Why should she have come back to me?’
Felicity only looked at her.
‘For God’s sake, Fliss, what happened?’
Corrie listened then, in appalled silence, to what had taken place when Annalise had returned to the house.
‘I’m sorry,’ Felicity cried. ‘I didn’t know she was coming. I didn’t … Oh shit! There’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have been in bed with him in the first place. But I thought …’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Corrie interrupted. ‘All that matters is where she is now.’
Felicity shrugged. ‘Like I said, I thought she’d come to you.’
‘She might have,’ Corrie answered, ‘but I wasn’t there. We switched locations at the last minute. Oh God, where can she have gone? Where’s Luke?’
‘I don’t know. He just said he was going out. He left about half an hour ago.’
‘I should have known something like this would happen,’ Corrie cried, starting towards the phone.
‘Look, Corrie, I know this is my fault, that …’
‘No, don’t blame yourself, Felicity. It’s not your fault. Believe me, it’s not. Did she take the car?’
Felicity nodded.
Corrie was dialling the number of the Beverly Hills Hotel. ‘She might still be there,’ she said, as she waited for someone to answer.
An hour later between them Corrie and Felicity had rung round just about every hotel in Beverly Hills, and every hospital too. No one had heard of Annalise Kapsakis. They tried all the airlines then to see if she’d flown back to London, but it didn’t appear that she had.
‘I don’t know what else we can do,’ Corrie cried frantically. ‘She could be anywhere,’
‘Like in a bar getting drunk,’ Felicity suggested.
Corrie nodded. ‘I’m afraid you’re probably right. Come on, we’ll have to go and look for her.’
It was approaching midnight by the time they gave up the search and returned home. They’d combed just about every bar on Sunset Strip and dozens of others too, but Los Angeles was such a big place they could go on for ever and still not find her. As Felicity closed the front door behind them Corrie heard a noise coming from the television room and running across the hall she burst in through the door to find Luke idly flicking through the channels.
‘Where’s Annalise?’ Corrie demanded. ‘Where is she?’
Luke shrugged. ‘I presumed she was with you.’
‘Have you heard from her?’ Felicity asked. ‘Has she called at all?’
‘No,’ he answered.
‘Well don’t you care where she might be?’ Corrie stormed.
‘She’ll be out somewhere getting drunk, I expect,’ Luke answered casually.
For a moment Corrie was speechless. She looked at Felicity, but as she turned back to Luke, obviously about to explode with rage, Felicity took her arm and drew her out into the hall. ‘There’s no point losing your rag with him,’ she said. ‘It’s not going to get us anywhere. If I were you I’d go on to bed. You look all in. Annalise’ll probably turn up sometime in the early hours.’
But when there was still no news of Annalise by the morning Corrie was almost out of her mind with worry.
‘It’s your fault, you bastard!’ she screamed at Luke when he came down for breakfast. ‘Why did you do it? You knew she was coming!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Luke snapped. ‘Do you think I’d have let her find me like that if I’d known?’
‘Yes! Yes, I do! I heard you ask her to come back here yesterday. You knew she was coming! What are you trying to do to her?’ She was on her feet now, advancing towards him. ‘Just what the fuck are you playing at? Why did you do it? What are you getting out of this? Tell me, you bastard! Tell me!’ As she started to punch him Felicity caught her hands and pulled her away.
‘Corrie, ssh,’ she soothed. ‘It’s not going to do any good getting yourself in such a state.’
‘But you don’t understand!’ Corrie sobbed. ‘You don’t know what he’s like, Felicity. There’s something going on with him –’
‘Corrie, calm down,’ Felicity said. ‘You’re …’
‘He knows where she is!’ Corrie screamed. ‘I’m telling you he knows!’
Felicity looked at Luke, but Luke simply shook his head.
‘If anything’s happened to her!’ Corrie yelled at him. ‘I’m warning you, if …’
‘Corrie, just stop it! Stop!’ Felicity barked. ‘She’ll be all right. We’ll find her, I promise …’
The telephone rang then, and before Felicity could stop her Corrie had dashed across the kitchen and snatched it up.
‘Corrie? Is that you?’
‘Annalise!’ Corrie gasped. ‘Oh, thank God! It’s her,’ she said to Felicity. ‘Annalise! Are you all right? Where are you?’
‘San Francisco.’
‘Where? What are you doing there?’
‘I’m with an old school friend. She lives here.’
‘But why didn’t you wait for me?’
‘I couldn’t. I came to find you, but you weren’t there. Oh, Corrie, it was so awful …’
‘I know. Annalise …’
‘Is Luke there?’
‘Yes,’ Corrie answered, throwing him a filthy look.
‘Has he said anything?’
‘No.’
‘Can you do this programme alone, Corrie? I can’t come back, I just can’t. Not with her there!’
‘But you have to come back,’ Corrie cried. ‘We’ll go and stay at a hotel if you prefer, but you have to come …’
‘No. I can’t come back, Corrie, not after the things he said to me. Please, try to understand …’
‘All right,’ Corrie said. ‘OK. You just stay there …’
‘Tell her if she walks out on this programme she’s fired,’ Luke shouted.
‘Was that him?’ Annalise said. ‘What did he say?’
‘It doesn’t matter. You just stay where you are. Now give me the number.’
The second she put the phone down Corrie rounded on Luke, ‘I hope you’re pleased with yourself, you bastard! She …’
‘It’s you who should be pleased with yourself,’ he interrupted. ‘You’re the producer now. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? So why don’t you stop yelling at me and just get on with it.’
He was almost at the door by the time Corrie spoke. ‘You know where you can stick your job!’ she hissed. ‘If she’s fired, then I’m resigning. As of now.’
‘She’s not fired.’
‘But you said …’
‘I know what I said, and I’m telling you she’s not fired. How can she be when her father’s who he is?’ He looked straight into Corrie’s eyes and grinned. ‘You’re the producer. Now, I’m going to the gym. I’ll be back around lunchtime.’
Corrie turned to Felicity and Felicity gave a brief shake of her head, as if to say, let it go now, but as soon as Luke walked out the door Corrie started racking her brains to try and remember if she’d said where Annalise was. She hadn’t, Felicity told her, and Annalise’s telephone number was still in Corrie’s hand. So whether he was lying or not about going to the gym, he couldn’t be going after Annalise, which was all that mattered for now.
Since neither of them were filming that day Corrie and Felicity spent the morning in the pool, the Jacuzzi and the sauna. But it wasn’t until they were chopping up a salad for lunch
that Corrie had calmed down sufficiently for Felicity to dare to broach the subject of visiting Cristos’s set.
‘Oh no, Fliss,’ Corrie said, trying to ignore the sudden dance her heart was performing. ‘I’m just not in the mood now. Not after what’s happened.’
‘Then we’ll just have to get you in the mood, won’t we?’ Felicity said, sneaking up behind her and poking her in the ribs.
Corrie squealed and managed to wriggle out of the way before Felicity could get her again. ‘Felicity, no,’ she laughed. ‘I’m not going, so let’s drop the subject.’
‘So you’re prepared to let this golden opportunity pass you by, are you?’ Felicity demanded. ‘Probably the only chance you’ll ever get in your life to see him again?’
‘You don’t have to put it like that.’
‘Well that’s how it is,’ Felicity shrugged. She turned back to her pile of chopped carrot, watching Corrie from the corner of her eye. A moment or two later she said, ‘Would it help if I told you he knew you were coming? That he himself gave permission for us to visit the set? You don’t want to let him down now, surely?’ Whether or not Carl had actually mentioned Corrie’s name Felicity had no idea, though she strongly doubted it. Probably all Cristos knew was that a couple of visitors from London were going to appear at some point in the day, but what harm would it do to bend the truth a little if it ended up getting Corrie what she wanted? And it sure seemed to have done the trick, because when Felicity looked up again Corrie was beaming all over her crimson face.
– 17 –
‘OK, WE’RE HERE,’ Felicity declared, steering the car from Olympic Boulevard onto Hill Street. ‘And somewhere around here … Yes, there it is, the Mayan Theatre. And, lo and behold, prop trucks, lighting trucks, generators and the whole caboodle.’
‘I feel sick,’ Corrie muttered. ‘Let’s turn back now, before anyone sees us.’
‘Not on your life,’ Felicity grinned. ‘Luke, stick your head out and ask that cop where we should park.’
‘Do you think he’s a real one, or an actor?’ Luke asked, winding down the window.
‘He’s real. All sets are guarded by the police out here.’
Corrie sat stiffly in her seat, thankful that no one could detect the almighty chaos going on in her chest, her stomach and her bowels. She was too nervous and embarrassed even to mind about Luke coming with them, though she had resolutely refused to speak to him.
A few minutes later their car was parked and they were walking back along the street towards the theatre. A few people, all it seemed in shorts, T-shirts and peaked caps, were milling about outside, and to Corrie’s astonishment Felicity crept up behind one man and accosted him by the seat of his pants.
‘Leonard Bloom!’ she cried. ‘How you doing you old rogue?’
The man spun round and the instant he saw Felicity his sun-weathered old face lit up. ‘What you doing here, kid?’ he laughed, throwing his arms round her in an enormous bear hug, ‘Gee, this sure is one surprise. It’s good to see you, babe.’
‘I’m doing a movie out here, aren’t I?’ Felicity chuckled. ‘Not this one. This one we’re just visiting.’ She turned to Corrie and Luke. ‘This old reprobate here,’ she told them, ‘was a sparks on the last movie I did in Hollywood. He’s a great guy, and …’ she added turning back to Len, ‘he’s going to go inside and find Carl for us.’
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Just tell me who the guy is, I’ll go get him.’
‘He’s the unit publicist,’ Felicity laughed. ‘Short fellow with a ginger moustache.’
‘There’s over two hundred people inside that theatre,’ Len said, scratching his head. ‘You’d better come along inside with me and point him out – if you can find him.’
As they walked from the blistering heat into the foyer of the decaying theatre Corrie was dimly aware that her hands and feet had turned to four blocks of ice, but despite how petrified she felt inside she knew, that had Felicity said they could turn back now she wouldn’t have. Already she was starting to feel the excitement of drawing close to a major movie set, and as Felicity had pointed out herself, this was probably the only chance she was ever going to get to see Cristos again.
They came to a stop at the back of what had once been the auditorium. Now there was only a stage to say it had been a theatre in another life. An army of technicians were at work on it, rigging lights, a camera, microphones and all sorts of things Corrie didn’t recognize. Everyone else was wandering about the space where there had once been audience seating, stepping over the tracks that were being laid, or huddled in groups having hair and make-up retouched. The actors were easy to spot, since they were wearing a spectacular variety of outlandish costumes; there were so many that Corrie guessed most must be walk-ons. The noise level was high as the crew rushed about shouting to make themselves heard above the hammering, sawing and drilling on the stage, then a voice yelled above the din to keep it down.
Corrie’s eyes moved steadily through the crowd, and she very nearly jumped when she recognized David Easton, pacing up and down one wall of the theatre, seemingly muttering to himself.
She nudged Felicity who was still scanning the room for Carl, and nodded towards Easton.
‘Bit short for us,’ Felicity whispered, ‘but he’s kinda cute, don’t you think?’
‘He’s talking to himself.’
‘Rehearsing,’ Felicity corrected. ‘The guy with him is probably his dialogue coach.’ She stood aside for two props men to pass with a towering alabaster statue. ‘There’s obviously a major re-set going on,’ she added, ‘but the fact that all the actors are inside must mean they can’t be far off a take.’
Corrie nodded, and started once again to search the semi-darkness. It was some minutes later, when a tightly knit group over on the left seemed to dissolve, that her heart turned over so violently she thought it might have torn itself from the roots.
He had his back turned, but she’d have known it was him without having to see his name written on the back of the chair. It was a tall canvas chair, and he was balanced precariously against it, his legs, crossed at the ankles, stretched out in front of him, and his arms folded. For a moment Corrie felt so lightheaded it was as though she was dreaming. The strangeness of the lights, the heavily-painted faces and surging mass of people seemed like surreal, intangible obstacles put there to prevent her from reaching him. She could almost feel herself pushing through them, searching the glittering bodies, shrinking from the dazzling lamps, drowning in the noise. She was starting to smile to herself, imagining him coming to find her, when suddenly a walkie-talkie crackled on the hip of someone passing her and a voice yelled over it,
‘Cut the crap, Brown! I’m coming up there to see for myself.’
In any other situation the coincidence might have struck Corrie as funny, hilarious even, but in this instance the shock of hearing her own name like that brought her thundering back to reality.
‘OK, let’s go,’ she hissed to Felicity. ‘I’ve seen him, so let’s go now.’
Felicity only laughed, and it didn’t take long for Corrie to realize how absurd she was being, and finding herself laughing too she turned back to look at him again. He appeared to be wearing the same tatty jeans he’d worn in London, and a white T-shirt with Past Lives Present emblazoned across the back. His hair was just as untidy as it was before, though it seemed longer and blacker against the white of his T-shirt. She could see the powerful muscles in his arms as he rested his hands on his hips, then he turned his head to one side giving her a profile of his darkly rugged features.
‘It’s so humbling, isn’t it?’ she whispered to Felicity. ‘I mean, to think that he’s in charge of all this, that it’s because of him …’
‘Corrie,’ Felicity warned. ‘He’s a director, not a god, remember?’
But to Corrie, he felt like a god. He was standing now, and she watched, mesmerized, as with his head tilted to one side, he listened intently to one of the actors standing in front of hi
m. After a while he started to speak himself, then reaching out for an actress he took her into his arms, still speaking over his shoulder to the actor. Then he proceeded to demonstrate to the actor precisely what he wanted. A hot jealousy flared through Corrie as he lifted the actress right up into his arms, pressing his mouth to hers, and slowly rotating. Every now and again he stopped to give notes to the actress – everyone was hanging on his every word and there was a tension about the group that seemed to begin and end with him. She had never seen a director of his stature at work before, and now, witnessing the spell he seemed to weave over everyone around him, she felt gauche and parochial. He belonged to another world and that she, Corrie Browne from Amberside, should have the audacity to fantasize about him, to have actually come here today hoping to … No, she couldn’t bear to think about it.
At last he put the actress down and Corrie noticed immediately how flushed she was. Cristos’s attention however was back with the actor who was now preparing to emulate Cristos’s performance. After a short discussion Cristos backed away and the actor moved in. Cristos’s concentration was total as he watched them, and so too was Corrie’s as she watched him. Finally, the actors broke apart and Cristos was laughing and applauding. It was only then that Corrie realized how aroused she had become.
‘Look at you!’ Felicity laughed. ‘You look like you’re about to wet your knickers.’
‘I think I already have,’ Corrie confessed with a grin. ‘Felicity, I honestly didn’t know anyone could feel this way just looking at a man. He did it to me before you know, in London, and he’s bloody well doing it again … And with all these people around! I really think I ought to go before I do something rash.’
But even if she’d meant it, which she didn’t, it was already too late, for, recognizing Luke, Jeannie, Cristos’s assistant, was on her way over to say hello, at the very point that Carl materialized and swept Felicity into the crowd.
Corrie stood alone, not sure what to do. She wondered if Luke might introduce her to the woman he was talking to, and decided that she would break her silence with him if he did, because she was feeling exceedingly awkward just standing here like this. She stole another glance at Cristos, and to her profound alarm, found he was looking in her direction. He looked away, apparently not recognizing her and Corrie was able to breathe again.
