by Susan Lewis
‘Very,’ Helena agreed. ‘And I’m sure you are. In fact, I expect you’re a godsend to him right now.’
Jane virtually glowed. It was so easy to get through to this girl, Helena was thinking, just a few kind words that made her feel appreciated and she was practically eating out of your hand.
‘How’s Kirsten?’ Jane asked, her smile wavering.
‘Not as good as she would like everyone to think,’ Helena said mournfully.
Concern leapt instantly to Jane’s eyes. ‘What’s the matter with her?’ she asked.
‘She can’t get any work, and, well,’ she shrugged, ‘you know how these things are.’
Jane sucked in her bottom lip.
Helena smiled. ‘You’re really fond of her, aren’t you?’ she said.
Jane nodded.
‘She is of you too.’
‘Is she?’ Jane said, her eagerness to hear more showing. ‘I mean, I thought she might be, well, I hoped she might be. Did she say that to you? That she was fond of me?’
Helena nodded. ‘In fact, I think she quite misses you and the little chats you used to have.’
‘I miss her too. She was always really nice to me.’
‘I guess you understand though why she had to ask you to stop coming?’
Jane nodded miserably.
‘It was you she was thinking of. She didn’t want you to lose your job because of her.’ She sighed. ‘All this has been pretty hard on her, you know. Losing Paul, not being able to get any work, and what with the way she still feels about Laurence . . .’ She cast a sidelong glance at Jane. ‘You do know how she feels about Laurence?’ she said.
Jane shrugged, clearly embarrassed. ‘Well, I suppose I sort of did. I mean, it was in the papers and everything, but Kirsten never really told me herself.’
‘No, well, she doesn’t like talking about it much and I guess with you working for Laurence and all . . .’ She took a sip of her wine and decided that now was the time to start coming to the point. ‘How’s his movie coming along, by the way?’ she said casually.
‘Um, OK, I think. He doesn’t tell me very much about it, but I know he’s managed to raise some of the money he needs.’
‘He has?’ Helena said, genuinely surprised – this couldn’t be going better. ‘Well, good for him. It’s probably just the boost he needs right now.’
‘Yes, he did seem quite pleased about it. At least at first he did. Ruby, that’s the writer, she keeps accusing him of losing interest lately though, but he’s got such a lot to think about and her getting on to him like that just makes him angry.’
‘Poor Laurence,’ Helena sighed. ‘But like I said, thank God he’s got you. Coping with a three year old, getting a movie up and running, it can’t be easy. But you need your respite too, Janey.’
Jane almost jumped at the unfamiliar sound of her name being used so affectionately. And, just as Helena had hoped, a flickering warmth started in her eyes.
‘We all need our respite,’ Helena went on. ‘I guess Laurence sees his work as his . . . He’s lucky to have it, it’s been so long since I worked I can hardly remember what it was like.’
‘I remember seeing you in that soap opera,’ Jane said softly. ‘You were really good.’
‘Thanks,’ Helena smiled. ‘But it feels like a lifetime ago now. What I wouldn’t give to be back in front of a camera.’ Suddenly her eyes opened wide. ‘Do you know, I’ve just had an idea,’ she declared. ‘I mean, I’m going out on a limb a bit, and I’ve got no right to ask, but, well, I don’t suppose there’s any way you’d be able to get hold of a copy of this Moyna O’Malley script for me, is there?’
Jane looked at her uncertainly. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘there are always lots of them hanging around the house . . .’
‘What I was thinking is that there might be a part in it for me. But no, no, I can’t ask you to go behind Laurence’s back like that. Forget it, it was wrong of me to ask.’
‘It would be quite easy to pick one up,’ Jane said. ‘And I don’t mind doing it, honestly, I don’t.’
‘Well, only if you’re sure.’
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ and Jane’s pleasure at being able to do something for someone was so touching that Helena had to fight hard to stave off the guilt.
‘Do you think you could get it to me soon?’ Helena asked. ‘I mean, I don’t want to waste any time, they’re probably already talking about casting, so I’ll need to get in quick.’
‘I could bring it tomorrow,’ Jane said.
‘You could? Oh, Janey, that’s fantastic. We’ll meet here, shall we? At the same time. And I’ll tell you what, I’ll have a little chat with Kirsten tonight, see if I can’t get her to change her mind and let you come visit once in a while. I’m sure she’ll say yes, because like I said, she really misses you. We both do.’
Fifteen minutes later Helena was boarding the tube heading for Sloane Square. Exploiting Jane’s weaknesses wasn’t making her feel any too good for she knew that were Jane not such an innocent she’d very likely have come clean and confessed to what she was really about. But it would have been too much for Jane. Deception on that level wouldn’t feature in Jane’s repertoire of vices – come to think of it Jane probably didn’t even know what a vice was. Still, if Helena managed to pull this off it would all come good in the end, everyone would get what they wanted and everyone would be happy. Including Jane. She pulled a face. God knows what Dermott Campbell would say if he knew what she was up to, but to hell with him! If he was screwing that old witch then he could go flush himself down the nearest john. OK, he said he wasn’t, but Helena wasn’t buying it. He’d looked too damned shifty. And even if he did call her, there was always the question, why hadn’t he picked up the phone before? And the answer to that was; where women were concerned Dermott Campbell was always crazy about the one he was with.
‘You did what!’ Laurence exploded, rounding on Ruby.
‘She thumped him,’ Campbell repeated.
‘I don’t believe it!’ Laurence cried, dashing a hand through his already dishevelled hair. ‘I just don’t fucking believe it.’ Was the whole world going crazy, or was it just him? He’d had a blazing row with Pippa on the phone not half an hour ago. Tom had overheard and was upstairs crying. His mother was on to him to go live there. Jane was going about the place like she was scared half out her wits, he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since God only knew when, and now this! He turned, his brilliant blue eyes boring into Ruby’s. ‘What the hell got into you?’ he seethed. ‘How much had you had?’
‘I didn’t like what he was saying,’ Ruby answered, avoiding the question.
‘I don’t like what you say most of the time,’ Laurence shouted, ‘particularly when you’re pissed, but I sure as hell don’t resort to thumping you. But believe you me, Ruby, right now you’re pushing me damned close. I take it you do realize that it’s mainly down to Willie that we’ve managed to get what finance we have. If he pulls out then we’re right back at the beginning. So you better just get your ass round there and apologize.’
‘Aw, come on, honey . . .’
‘Get round there and apologize!’ Laurence roared.
When Ruby, still slightly the worse for all the gin she had consumed, had taken herself off Campbell walked quietly across the sitting room and opened the drinks cabinet.
‘Put that away!’ Laurence barked.
Campbell did as he was told.
Several minutes ticked by. It was evident that Laurence was trying to get himself back in control and as Campbell watched him he noticed how tired he looked, almost to the point of exhaustion. He’d lost weight too and the lines around his eyes had visibly deepened these past few weeks. Campbell knew he was on the point of throwing in the towel and letting this movie sink, but somehow Campbell had to stop him doing that. Not only for Laurence’s sake, but his own too. Like he’d told Helena this movie could be a new start for him, one that meant he could tell Dyllis Fisher where to go, before she told
him. There was no more to print about Kirsten, the public had had enough, and he, Campbell, wasn’t party to the tactics Dyllis was using to halt Kirsten’s career. In other words, Dyllis Fisher didn’t need him any more and he, Campbell, was reaching out for this life-line in the hope that it would hook him to safety before he fell back into the gutter.
Indeed, Campbell was quite excited about the idea of becoming involved in a major movie, so excited in fact that he’d spent the best part of two weeks with Ruby picking her brains about the script. And if that wasn’t dedication to the cause then nothing was, for two weeks with Ruby Collins was tantamount to a life sentence – or even a death sentence, because the chances of coming out in one piece weren’t good. The way she came on to him when she was drunk was as embarrassing as it was life-threatening, and the nightly tussles between the sheets were something he couldn’t even bring himself to think about. But if screwing Ruby was what it took to get himself on to this movie then screw her he would, for despite their all too frequent contretemps Campbell knew that Ruby held a lot of sway with Laurence. And, during her sober moments, Campbell could see why. She went at what she did with a passion that left him reeling and a talent that could make his hair stand on end with awe. She just needed a little guidance now and then, something that brought her back from the crazy tangents she went off on and Laurence had decided that the director should now take that on.
‘Willie had some pretty good suggestions,’ Campbell said tentatively as Laurence flopped into an armchair.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. Well, I thought so. Obviously Ruby didn’t, but . . .’
‘Why the hell did she do that?’ Laurence demanded, his handsome face once again tightening with anger.
‘Because Willie disagreed with something that was your idea.’
‘So fucking what? He’s got the right. He’s the director, godammit! What is it with that woman?’
‘She reckons we’ve all got to go easy on you,’ Campbell sighed.
‘I’m not a fucking invalid,’ Laurence raged, suddenly on his feet again. ‘I liked her better when she was arguing with me, at least we managed to get somewhere.’ He slammed a fist on the table and lowered his head as he tried to swallow his frustration. ‘Shit,’ he growled. ‘I don’t know why I ever agreed to do this fucking movie.’
‘Because it’s good,’ Campbell said. ‘Or it will be . . .’
‘Cut the bullshit, Dermott! It’s bad enough with her at it all the time without you starting up. And what the hell’s with this crazy notion of you coming on board? You’ve got no experience!’
‘Hey, come on. I’m on your side,’ Campbell cried. ‘If you’d just listen to what I have to say you might –’
‘I don’t want to hear it.’
‘Laurence, for God’s sake, what are you going to do, throw it all away because it’s taking up too much self-pity time?’
Laurence’s eyes were smouldering with fury as he glared back. ‘You’re way out of line, Dermott,’ he said dangerously. ‘Way out of line. You want to work on this movie then quit interfering in my private life.’
‘OK, OK,’ Campbell said, holding up his hands defensively, though somewhat cheered by what had sounded something like an acceptance of his role on the movie. ‘So, what do you say we get down to some work?’ he suggested.
‘Not now.’
‘But –’
‘I said, not now,’ and before Campbell could protest further Laurence slammed out of the room.
He took the stairs two at a time. He was going to the nursery to be with his son and right now Dermott Campbell, Ruby Collins and the whole goddamned movie could go straight to fucking hell.
12
‘I’m up here,’ Kirsten called out, hearing the front door open and close behind Helena. She listened for a moment, then smiling to herself as Helena started up the stairs she relaxed back in the warm, scented water and turned a page of the album she was holding.
‘Where the hell are you?’ Helena grumbled from the bedroom.
‘In here,’ Kirsten laughed, the foamy water swishing up the sides of the bath as she made herself more comfortable. ‘How did it go?’ she asked as Helena wandered into the huge creamy white bathroom with its gold accessories and plonked herself down in the feathery cushions of a hand-painted rocking chair.
‘Don’t ask,’ Helena pouted as she regarded herself critically in the long, Grecian mirror. ‘God knows why my agent put me up for it, they were looking for a sylph-like blonde with legs up to her armpits and eyes as big as her tits. Now tell me, do I look like a bimbo or do I just act like one? Still, I guess after I got onto him last week he did it to try and keep me sweet. Asshole!’
Kirsten chuckled and turned another page. ‘Life isn’t looking too good for us lately, is it?’ she said. ‘No work, no love lives . . .’
‘At least you’ve got money,’ Helena said grudgingly. ‘Anyway, what are you doing inviting me up here like that. I could have been anyone.’
‘I should be so lucky,’ Kirsten murmured. ‘It was the rust-bucket. I heard it coughing all the way from the King’s Road. So, what are we going to do to cheer ourselves up?’
‘Looks like you’re already doing it,’ Helena remarked as Kirsten lifted a foot to turn on the hot-water tap. ‘God, you should see yourself. You look like Venus herself wallowing away there.’
Kirsten screwed up her nose as she recalled the way Zaccheo had likened her to Venus. Not a memory she wished to dwell upon.
‘What’s that you’re looking at?’ Helena asked.
‘Pictures of Paul and me in the South of France,’ Kirsten answered, passing over the album. ‘I was reminding myself of happier days.’
‘Seems we had the same idea,’ Helena said, scanning the pages. ‘I was poring over old photos myself last night. This is a really good one of Paul here,’ she said, turning the book for Kirsten to see.
‘Mmm, I thought so too,’ Kirsten smiled fondly. ‘I think I might get it put into a frame. So, what were you looking at photos of?’
‘Old flames, mainly. Though they all burnt out so quickly they weren’t really much more than one-night stands.’ Helena’s normally lively face looked so dejected that Kirsten threw a sponge at her to try and make her laugh.
‘Come on, what’s really bothering you?’ Kirsten said, when Helena picked the sponge up and tossed it back into the water. ‘You haven’t been yourself for a couple of weeks now.’
‘Well, actually I met someone, a little while ago now, and I really thought we might get it together.’ She sighed despondently. ‘Seems I was wrong.’
‘You never said,’ Kirsten remarked. ‘Who is he?’
‘No one. No one important, anyway. I guess desperation just got ahold of me for a while . . .’ She handed Kirsten a towel as she stood up. ‘I was thinking that I wanted to be a wife and a mother and all that crap,’ she went on, automatically sucking in her stomach when she saw how flat Kirsten’s was. ‘Well, I do want all that. Or I want to be an actress, I don’t mind which, ’cos I’m past thinking I can have both, like some women. I’d be grateful for anything . . .’
‘Oh come on, it’s not as bad as all that,’ Kirsten said, wrapping her hair in the towel and reaching out for another.
‘Isn’t it? Try looking at it from where I’m sitting.’
Kirsten lifted a foot on to the side of the bath as she towelled her legs. ‘You know I’d give you a job if I could only get something moving,’ she said. ‘And I will, eventually. But we won’t get on to the subject of Dyllis Fisher again.’ Nevertheless her hands started to move more quickly as she dried herself and she pulled the comb viciously through her hair as she recalled the indescribable frustration of the past weeks. ‘Still,’ she said as she wandered out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, ‘at least Dermott Campbell seems to be leaving me alone these days.’
Helena watched her as she started to coat her exquisitely full breasts in an expensive oil. Not for the first time she found
herself thinking of Kirsten as one of nature’s perfections. And standing there as she was now in a pool of early evening sunshine that made her rich, smooth skin glisten like honey she was so beautiful it could almost take your breath away. But if nature had been at its most benevolent when handing out gifts to Kirsten, fate was at its most malevolent. She hadn’t yet told Kirsten that Campbell was working on Laurence’s movie, though in truth there wasn’t much to tell. From what she’d heard Laurence seemed to have lost interest these past weeks and it was only Dermott and Ruby who were toiling on. As far as Helena could make out even the director wasn’t getting involved in Dermott and Ruby’s meetings, so quite what they thought they were achieving was anyone’s guess. Campbell hadn’t called Helena either, which was part of the reason she was feeling so depressed. It was unbelievable that she should be feeling this way about him, of all people, but it just went to show how desperate she really was. Still, she had no confidence that the movie was going to be made, at least not as things stood and it pleased her no end to think that Campbell was going to fall flat on his face. But on the other hand there was the most fantastic part in it for her . . .
‘Ah, there you are,’ Kirsten said, as Helena followed her into the bedroom. ‘I thought you’d fallen asleep in there.’
‘It’s life that’s fallen asleep,’ Helena answered gloomily. ‘We’ve just got to come up with a way to wake it up.’
‘And there was me thinking you’d already done that,’ Kirsten said, a mischievous light shining in her eyes.
Helena looked at her curiously.
Still smiling as she hooked the straps of a black lacy body up over her shoulders Kirsten turned to her bedside table and picked up a script. ‘You left this behind last time you were here,’ she said, handing it to Helena.
Helena’s eyes moved from the ornate lettering of Moyna O’Malley back to Kirsten’s face. The script had been at Kirsten’s for days and this was the first time Kirsten had mentioned it. As a result Helena’s spirits started to lift with the vague hope that maybe all was not lost.
