The Cinema at Starlight Creek

by Alli Sinclair

  ‘Back in a moment.’ She left and a few minutes later came back with two mugs of coffee.

  Lena gratefully took the coffee and sipped it. She placed the mug on the only spare corner of the desk. ‘How is everything? How are your great nieces?’

  ‘Good. Great, in fact! There will be a third in September.’

  ‘Gosh!’

  ‘I know. Three under four. Mayhem for my nephew but joy for me!’ Nerida studied her over the rim of her coffee cup. ‘So how is it really going? Pierre can be a handful.’

  ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’

  ‘I was never sure that you and he would be a good match on-screen, but Stuart had his ideas.’

  ‘He is a visionary, that’s for sure.’ Lena crossed her legs.

  ‘He is—to a degree. Although Cooper and the rest of the boys’ club need to fight harder against the censorship board.’ She leaned against the high-backed chair. ‘If it were up to me, we’d have had this Hays Code knocked flat on its back by now.’

  ‘So you’re not planning on taking over the studio?’ joked Lena.

  ‘I wish.’ Nerida leaned forward and rested her hands on the desk. ‘I may have been around this block a few times, but I’ve never had on blinders when it comes to the futility of certain situations. Women getting paid the same as men—not just in this industry—is a long-term battle. I’ve done what I can but it’s time to pass the baton.’

  ‘You’re not retiring, are you?’

  Nerida let out a throaty laugh. ‘Not on your life! They’ll be carrying me out in a wooden box.’

  ‘Well I hope that doesn’t happen for a very, very long time.’

  ‘I’m not getting any younger.’ Nerida rested her gaze on Lena. ‘Nor are you. But you’ve proved them wrong. An actress’s age is not a handicap. I knew you had it in you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Age had been on her mind lately—was she leaving her run too late to have children? Did she even want them?

  ‘Lena?’

  She looked up. ‘Sorry. I got caught up in a thought.’

  ‘About?’

  ‘Children.’

  Nerida’s mouth hung open. ‘Are you …’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Thank god, because if you and Pierre …’

  ‘What would happen if I was?’ Lena asked even though she already knew the answer.

  ‘You could kiss your career goodbye. Imagine, an unmarried actress with child—the tabloids would have a field day. And, selfishly, it would be a nightmare for me to put out that particular fire.’

  ‘Yet there are actors who have broods of kids to women they barely know and no one bats an eyelid. No one says their career is over or sees them as less desirable because they’ve produced offspring.’

  ‘You’re preaching to the converted,’ said Nerida. ‘No one should be made to choose between career and family.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Lena said. ‘So … any new talent of note?’

  Nerida laughed and shook her head. ‘If you are asking if there is anyone that is going to threaten your rising star, then no, there is not. I’m still out there, getting as much publicity as I can for you, don’t worry.’

  Lena’s shoulders relaxed. ‘I guess I’m more insecure than I thought.’

  Nerida drank the last of her coffee and put the cup down. ‘I don’t see why. You and Pierre are an excellent team. From what I hear around the traps, you two are rivalling the studio’s biggest couple on- and off-screen.’

  ‘Jeanne and Reeves?’

  Nerida nodded.

  ‘I heard there was a—how shall we say this?—minor event on set a couple of days ago?’

  ‘Minor?’ Nerida said. ‘It was a major catastrophe! Shut the entire set down.’

  ‘That’s not good.’

  ‘It’s a disaster. In fact, that’s why I’m in here today—trying to sort this mess out before the reporters twist it around even further.’

  Lena shifted forward. ‘Is she going to be okay?’

  ‘Depends if you call going into rehab okay.’ Nerida rested her arm on a pile of scripts.

  ‘Will she—’

  ‘How about them Cubs?’

  Lena smiled and nodded. ‘All right, I get it. Quit asking questions, Lena.’

  Nerida winked. ‘You always were astute.’

  ‘She begs for a day off,’ a voice boomed behind her, ‘yet she’s here taking up our head publicist’s valuable time.’

  Lena swivelled to find Stuart Cooper filling most of the doorframe.

  ‘Miss Lee, how about we leave Nerida to it and you come into my office and keep me company, seeing you’re intent on never leaving this place?’

  ‘Stuart,’ said Nerida, ‘I asked Lena in for a chat. It’s not all work and no play.’

  ‘In my studio it is. I don’t pay any of you to sit around and gabble. Miss Lee.’ He swept his hand in the direction of his office.

  She grabbed her purse and got up. ‘Thank you for the coffee, Nerida.’

  ‘Anytime.’ She picked up a pencil and notepad.

  Lena and Stuart Cooper crossed reception and went through the double office doors into Stuart’s corner of the building, although it was more the size of a small apartment than an office.

  Stuart motioned for her to sit on the luxurious white leather chair and he took a seat behind his desk. ‘You perplex me, Miss Lee.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You complain you haven’t had a day off in ages yet here you are.’

  ‘I know.’ She studied the gold clasp on her white purse. ‘I didn’t plan on coming here but …’ She shrugged.

  ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you, anyway. I believe your contract is up for renewal.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be talking with my agent about this first?’

  ‘Middlemen. Pft!’ He waved his hand and screwed up his face like he’d been overcome by a bad smell. ‘You’re the one working for my studio. I want to hear what you have to say.’

  She was so ill-prepared for this. Where to start?

  ‘Lena, it may be Sunday, but I don’t have all day.’

  Her hands grew clammy and the purse started to slip on her lap. Think, Lena. Think. What does your heart say? No, no. What does your head say? She took a deep breath. ‘I am very grateful for what Fortitude Studios has done for me and my career. I—’

  ‘This better not be a refusal to re-sign.’

  ‘Mr Cooper, with all due respect, you asked me to discuss my contract with you and, I have to say, it is not as simple as signing a piece of paper.’ She paused, waiting for him to say something but instead he leaned on his elbows and formed a steeple with his fingers. ‘I love Fortitude Studios. I love this industry. I love that I finally caught a break and have had the chance to work with very talented people.’

  ‘Enough with the platitudes, Miss Lee.’

  ‘All right.’ She took a deep breath, boldness taking hold. ‘The conditions for women in this industry are atrocious. The hours are long, the poor girls on the chorus lines are made to stand around for endless hours shivering in tiny little costumes when they’re not on set. They rarely eat because they are worried about putting on an extra pound or smudging their lipstick. And as for those of us who make it through the ranks, we sell our souls to the studio, to the audiences, to the magazines and newspapers who make money reporting about every single thing we do—or don’t do—and they don’t have a problem printing lies if it will sell more copies.’

  ‘You knew this the minute you signed up.’

  ‘In my head, yes, but it was only supposition. I signed on as an actress who needed money to have a roof over her head. But I’m older and wiser now—and I know my days are numbered. I’m getting closer to my use-by date and there are not enough decent roles for women of a certain age.’

  Stuart threw his arms wide. ‘What do you want? You chose this profession. No one forced you into it.’

  ‘I want fairness, Mr Cooper. I want women to be paid equally to men.’ If only Nerida co
uld hear this conversation.

  ‘That will never happen.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because that is not the real world. It doesn’t matter if you or Jeanne Harris or Betty Grable have the qualities that pull audiences into theatres, men have always been paid more because it’s the women who pay to see them in the movies.’

  ‘But it’s the women’s husbands and boyfriends who come along to see people like me or Jeanne or Betty. And the women aspire to be like us—they follow our fashions, our hairstyles, the way we talk. We take them from their everyday lives and entertain them for a couple of precious hours. People like me and Jeanne are their voices and if we don’t stand up for those who can’t be heard, then what is the point of being in this position?’

  ‘The point is that you make me money.’

  ‘With all due respect—’

  ‘Anyone who starts out with that is not going to show any respect. Be careful what you say, Miss Lee.’

  ‘Mr Cooper—’

  The door swung open and Nerida stood in the doorway, her face pale. ‘You are not going to like what I’ve just heard.’

  ‘Heard what?’ growled Stuart.

  ‘Pierre Montreaux just signed with Moonlight Studios.’

  CHAPTER 21

  1994 – Starlight Creek, Queensland

  After dinner, Hattie and Don had retired for the evening, leaving Luke and Claire sitting outside on the swing. Luke’s nearness shot her temperature skyward. If she leaned in just a fraction more … no. She could not go down this road in the middle of an important production.

  ‘I really should get back as I have an early start tomorrow—again.’

  ‘Let me drive you.’ Luke stood and held out his hand to help her up. He didn’t let go. ‘I wish you could stay in Starlight Creek for longer.’

  ‘So do I.’ For the first time ever, Claire had started to question whether the transient nature of her work was something she could sustain forever. But she had goals. Dreams. And none of these could be achieved without widening her network of industry contacts and the only way to do that was to work for as many producers and directors as possible. One day one of these contacts could be the backer she needed to get her project off the ground. Whatever that project ended up being.

  They walked down the steps and to Luke’s car. He opened the passenger door and she got in, smiling her thanks. His chivalry reminded her of the Hollywood classic movies she’d watched over the years.

  Luke started the car and they drove towards Starlight Creek. The river sparkled under the moon, and the sugarcane remained eerily still. They drove in silence, Claire battling the urge to tell Luke about the conversation she’d had with Hattie. Though it was Luke’s business and if he wanted to share that information with her, he would.

  They arrived out the front of the hotel, now shrouded in darkness. She exited the car and Luke walked around to meet her, his body close to hers once more.

  Looking deep into her eyes, he said, ‘Something’s different. What is it?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She bit her lip.

  ‘That nothing is a definite something. What’s changed?’

  ‘Noth …’

  Luke’s raised eyebrow stopped her lie.

  ‘Hattie told me about your mum and your little brother.’ Why on earth did she blab? Although she couldn’t lie. That would be worse.

  His shoulders slumped. ‘Hattie should leave well enough alone.’

  ‘It’s okay, really.’

  ‘No, it’s not, because now I’m the guy who lost his mum and brother when I was a kid. You’ll look at me with pity in your eyes, you’ll want to talk about it, try to counsel me, and it will deteriorate whatever relationship we’ve been building.’

  ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘I would have thought you’d have given me more credit than that.’

  ‘Experience has taught me otherwise.’

  ‘What happened?’ she asked gently.

  ‘I don’t want my past to define who I am,’ he said.

  ‘But it does—for all of us. Our past shapes who we are today, who we are tomorrow.’

  ‘It’s more to do with circumstance.’

  Although he had a slightly annoyed tone, at least he was talking.

  Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘I do what I do because of how I was brought up. I’m the youngest of four kids and I’m the only girl. My very practical family don’t understand my need to be creative. They think me travelling so much for work is insane. Although I wouldn’t be doing this job if I didn’t think it would eventually lead me to my dream work.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘I want to make documentaries. I want to film people who will inspire, make others think, and to tell a part of history that’s never been told before.’

  Luke frowned, his silence disconcerting.

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to highlight that my family supports me and your dad doesn’t, I meant—’

  ‘It’s okay.’ But his tone told her otherwise. ‘Look, we are who we are because of circumstance. If my mother hadn’t died, then chances are my brother would be working with Dad and I’d be pursuing my own dream.’

  ‘Sculpting full time?’

  ‘Not just that. I want so much more.’ He leaned against the pole. ‘Farming is tough and it’s getting tougher. My dad is more fragile than he looks, and my heart isn’t in the business. Believe me, I’ve tried and will continue to do so, but it’s not who I am.’

  ‘Who are you, then?’

  ‘I’m someone who wants to use art to help and motivate people—much like your documentaries. I … Look, it doesn’t matter what I want, it’s never going to happen.’

  ‘Please, tell me.’ She reached for his hand. Although he didn’t relax into her hold straight away, he eventually did.

  It took a moment before he spoke. ‘It’s all pie in the sky.’

  ‘I’d really like to hear about it.’

  Luke cocked his head in the direction of the bench in the park across the road. They walked hand in hand, but when they sat Luke let go and kept some distance between them.

  Once again, he took his time before speaking and she waited impatiently. Eventually he said, ‘In a perfect world, I’d love to build a retreat where people could come and experiment with their artistic side. I’d get in art therapists, painters, I’d teach sculpting with various mediums … lots of things for people to try and experience. I especially want to help kids who’ve been through something traumatic, whether it’s illness, the loss of someone they love … anything that has made them grow up faster than they should.

  ‘When I lost my mum, my only outlet was art, but my dad couldn’t cope. Seeing me do the things my mum did only brought back memories of the wife and son he lost, so in the end I had to hide the only thing that gave me solace from my grief. It connected me to Mum, but my dad severed that connection, and eventually my art became a source of guilt.’

  ‘Oh, Luke. That’s a really difficult position to be in.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ve worked through it over the years and now I’m at a point where I can pursue my art on the side, but I could never voice my true wishes to my dad. He’d never understand.’

  All this made so much more sense now.

  ‘So,’ he continued, ‘I want to give people, especially kids, a way to express how they’re feeling because a lot of times words just don’t cut it.’

  ‘That’s so very true.’ Right now, Claire was struggling to put all her thoughts together, let alone find a way to express them.

  ‘And,’ Luke appeared to be on a roll now, ‘how can people not be inspired by this landscape?’ He motioned towards the mountains and the sugarcane fields lit by the moon. ‘There’s so much beauty here just waiting to be discovered and enjoyed and I want city folk, especially, to take the time to stop, breathe and immerse themselves in this land. In its magic. In its heart. Maybe then they’ll discover what’s in theirs.’

  Claire couldn’t keep her eyes off Luk
e. As he spoke about his dream, his passion shone and that, coupled with his blue eyes, perfect straight nose and sandy hair that brushed his shirt collar …

  ‘It’s a shame you can’t find a way to do everything—your art, the retreat, helping your dad.’

  ‘Life isn’t like that,’ he said. ‘No one can possibly get everything they want, no matter how hard they work. Dreams are usually just that—dreams.’

  She debated whether to say more, then remembered Luke saying he hated how people acted with him because of losing his mother at such a young age. ‘I don’t see it that way at all.’

  ‘How do you see it?’

  ‘Dreams get people up in the morning. They inspire us to strive harder, work harder, study harder. Dreams keep us going through those moments in life when we’re stuck in a dark tunnel that we feel we’ll never escape. Writers, inventors, scientists, musicians, painters, sculptors … all of them had dreams that they would one day write that book, invent a machine that helps people, find a cure, compose a song that will touch hearts, design a piece that is so beautiful it brings people to tears … these people started with a dream and made it a reality.’

  ‘Dreams are just dreams.’

  ‘I wish you could see it another way, Luke.’ She turned to face him. ‘Your dreams sound amazing and I’m sure you could make them happen.’

  ‘Let’s talk about something else,’ he said.

  She stifled a yawn.

  ‘Perhaps less talking and more sleeping,’ said Luke. ‘Come on.’

  He helped her up and they crossed the road to the pub and stood outside the door that led to the rooms upstairs.

  ‘I don’t mean to be pushy,’ she said.

  ‘I know your heart is in the right place. It’s just that you and I come from totally different backgrounds, so it’s only natural we see things differently.’ Luke brushed her face with the back of his hand.

  Claire closed her eyes.

  Luke’s fingers traced her jawline.

  She held her breath. Her eyes fixed on his.