Sally Wentworth - Set the Stars on Fire

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Sally Wentworth - Set the Stars on Fire Page 5

by Sally Wentworth


  He shrugged. 'Why should I? I had only your word for it that Nicholas Hayman was your godfather. For all I knew it was true.'

  `And the mud you said you added to it? What did your our foul little mind come up with?'

  The grin was suddenly wiped from his face and he caught her wrist again. `Don't play the high and mighty with me, you little slut! If you hadn't thought yourself too good to sleep with me I might have befriended you, but as it is,' he paused to let it sink in, `as it is I told them that you definitely were his mistress, and that you'd willingly go to bed with anyone who would help promote your career.' He bent her wrist back until she had to stifle a moan of pain. `And for good measure,' he added spitefully, `I also told them that I'd had you myself, that you begged me to take you because you were so fed up with going with old men. So now every man in the crew thinks he knows exactly what you're in bed, what tricks you do and what you're good at. I quite enjoyed making that up. I even told them that you.

  But Lori couldn't stand it any longer. `Shut up! You swine ! You're disgusting, do you know that? You…'

  Her words broke off in a sharp cry of pain as he bent her arm back viciously. `Call me names and I'll break your wrist ! ' He glared at her, then slowly raised his hard to touch her breast again. `But it doesn't have to be like this, Lori. I could, put everything right for you tell them it was a mistake, that he'd seen your work and knew you were right for the part. I still want you, Lori. All you have to do is say yes.'

  Lori heard a car door slam and the sound of several laughing voices coming towards them. She wrenched her wrist free and stared at him. `I'll see you in hell first,' she said balefully, and then turned to run back towards the safety and light of the hotel.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE electronic row from the night-club had little to do with keeping Lori awake that night; she couldn't have slept if she'd tried. She had known that something was very wrong, but never in her worst nightmare had imagined it could be as bad as this. She sat on her bed, leaning against the headboard, her knees tucked up to her chin, and wondered why what she had expected to be one of the most wonderful times of her life had turned out to be a living hell. And she'd only been here a few days I

  Her first impulse had been to go to the producer of the film and ask him to tell everyone the truth, but then she thought that if he had heard the rumours he would already have done that. And as he hadn't… Lori frowned uneasily; it either meant that he hadn't heard the rumours about her, which seemed unlikely when they were the common knowledge of the whole crew, or else he hadn't refuted them because they were basically true and her godfather had got her the part. She stared unseeingly at the opposite wall. Had Uncle Nick broken his solemn word and got her this job behind her back? But if so, why? She had been doing okay on her own, and there had been several tempting offers made to her, including a television serial in the autumn. Despairingly she shook her head. How could she deny anything until she was sure?

  And would there be any point in denying it anyway? Her thoughts flew back to that disgusting scene Tony had staged in the garden for the director's benefit. No wonder he had looked at her so contemptuously! After

  Tony had got through with ruining her reputation, Lewis Brent must have thought she had obliged on every casting couch in London! She felt again his cold eyes flicking over her, and suddenly it became very important that her good name should be restored. Lori laughed aloud, a hollow, empty laugh. Her good name in an extremely old-fashioned way of describing it, but she had never in all her twenty-two years found herself in a situation like this before. Always she had been careful never to get involved in any of the casual relationships that blossomed and died so quickly and so frequently among show business people; you had an affair that lasted for a season or for the length of a show's run, and then the company broke up and every one moved on to a new show and a new affair. But Lori had never been like that, never been able to give herself lightly to a temporary relationship; always, in her heart, she had been waiting-waiting for what she didn't quite know herself. For a twentieth-century knight in white armour, she supposed, although they seemed sadly out of fashion in this day and age. But the hope that tomorrow or the day after might be the one that brought her ideal had kept her aloof from lesser affairs. And now Tony, in his petty spite, had cheapened and fouled her reputation beyond repair. For

  Lori knew her show business; this choice piece of gossip would be detailed in every letter Home and would be spread throughout the profession in no time at all. And no man who was even halfway decent would want to even look at her!

  Very early the next morning, Lori placed a call through to London and waited impatiently until she was connected.

  `Uncle Nick? This is Lori.' The line was bad and she had difficulty in hearing. `No, I'm all right, but I

  have to talk to you. Look, there's a rumour going around here that you got me this job. You didn't, did you?' she asked anxiously.

  There was a lengthy pause that frightened her be fore her godfather answered slowly, `Y admit I knew that you were being considered for the part, but I assure you that you got it on your own merit.

  'Oh, Uncle Nick, you're sure? Really sure?' Lori almost began to cry in relief.

  `Quite sure,' he replied firmly, then added, `Why, is there any trouble over there?'

  For a moment Lori was terribly tempted to confide in him, to hand her troubles over to him as she had ever since her father's premature death several years ago. He had always been there, to comfort or praise her, and she knew that if she told him the truth he would fly out and try to put things right for her. But whether he would succeed or just add fuel to all the malicious gossip was debatable.

  So she merely said as lightly as she could, `No, it was just a crazy rumour, but I wish you'd do what you could to squash it at your end.

  "Will do.' Lori expected him to question her more closely and was somewhat surprised when he said abruptly, `I'm going to call on your mother this afternoon. Any messages?'

  My love, of course, but I'll probably phone her myself later.'

  He said quickly, `Oh, I shouldn't do that. I know she's pretty busy today and all next week. fetter if you just dropped her a line. You know she Likes getting letters so she can read them over again.'

  Lori laughed. "All right, I'll do that. Love to you both, then.'

  But after she had replaced the receiver she stood biting her Lip and wondering what to do for the best. The knowledge that Uncle Nick hadn't got her the part was amuck-needed boost to her own morale, but wasn't going to alter the crew's attitude towards her one little bit. And in the Light of what Tony had told her with such malicious enjoyment she had to decide whether she could go on working in these conditions. Whether she could take three months of being treated like a social outcast, of having the men in the crew looking her over and knowing precisely what they were thinking. And she knew that sooner or Later it was inevitable that someone would make a Bass at her, thinking her an easy lay, and her rejection of it would only lead to more nastiness.

  But she had hardly even begun to work out the problem before the phone rang and she was surprised to hear Lewis Brent's voice.

  `Miss West? I'd like you to come dawn to the production office as soon as possible.'

  No would you minds or please, just a peremptory command that immediately put Lori's back up. And after all it was Sunday, she was entitled to her day off, wasn't she?

  So she replied coldly, `Is it important, Mr Brenta I haven't yet breakfasted-and I've made Flans to go out for the day.'

  His voice grated harshly in her ear. 'Yes, it is important. And the sooner you get down here the sooner you can have the day to yourself. You'll just have to tell your boy-friend to wait.'

  And he put down the phone before Lori could even think of a retort.

  Grumbling angrily to herself, Lori showered and dressed in a simple sundress and sandals, adding a minimum of make-up. She certainly wasn't going to put herself out for Lewis Brent after the
way he'd treated her. So it was in a belligerent mood that she made her way down to the production office and pushed open the door. She had expected to see several people there, but she stood on the threshold and blinked in surprise. The big room was quiet, empty and dark, some make shift black-out curtains pulled across the windows to shut out the light. For a moment she thought she'd been tricked and there was no one there, but then a light snapped on and she saw the director standing alone on the far side of the room.

  `Come in, Miss West, no one's going to bite you,' he said caustically.

  Slowly Lori shut the door and walked towards him, wondering grimly whether his bite could possibly be worse than his bark, and why he had sent for her when he was alone. To tell her, her work wasn't any good and kick her back to London? Resentment rose in her like an angry tide. He was so prejudiced against her that even if her acting was satisfactory he would still get rid of her. Her chin jutted forward defiantly; she had got this part on her own merits and she was going to fight to keep it.

  Lewis Brent watched her as she came towards him, saw the determination in her face and the bright, angry sparkle in her green eyes. For a moment he regarded her in silence, then he motioned towards a couple of chairs. `Sit down. I want to show you the rushes of your scenes on Wednesday.'

  He moved to a projector behind her and turned off the light. Images appeared on the screen in front of her, numbers to show the take and what lenses were used first and then the actual scene. He showed all the takes she had done, the bad ones where she had been nervous or in the wrong position as well as the final one where she had managed to pull herself together and really act. The difference was startling. Lori was ashamed at how appallingly bad she had been at first, and although the final take was far, far better, she wished wholeheartedly that she could take it again; she could see now several points where her performance could have been improved. And if it had been television she would have been able to, because the film would have been processed immediately and run back so that the players could judge for themselves and reshoot a scene straightaway if they thought they could improve on it, but large screen film processing was far more complicated and always took at least twenty-four hours before the rushes could be viewed, and by then it was often too late to go back; the weather could have changed, the set been pulled down, anything. The actors had to rely completely on the director to get the best performance out of them at the time.

  The later scenes were better in that she seemed more assured, and Lori knew that, having seen these rushes, she could improve even more, that it wouldn't take her long to adapt to this new medium given a little help and encouragement, but there was no chance of that with Lewis Brent so dead against her.

  As the last scene Bickered away, the projector stilled and he turned the light on again. For a few minutes he was occupied with putting away the film, but then he came and hooked forward another chair to sit opposite her. Taking a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, he silently offered her one and when she shook her head lit his own and looked at her consideringly. Lori determinedly kept her mouth shut; he had called her down here, let him do the talking.

  After a silence that seemed to stretch to screaming point, he said, 'Well, what did you think of the rushes?' Lori flushed; did he want her to condemn herself? Acidly she replied, 'What I think of them hardly matters, does it?' Agitatedly she stood up and faced him. 'You'd already made up your mind about me even before you saw the rushes. And now you've got them you're going to use them as an excuse to get rid of me. All right, they were by no means perfect, but with practice I know I could work well in films, I just know I could! But you wouldn't give me that chance, would you?' she added bitterly. 'You're ready to dismiss me out of hand on the basis of my very first day just because I'm not the person you wanted in the part. You're so determined to have your own way that you don't give a damn about anybody else!' she finished, her voice rising.

  Lewis Brent regarded her for a long moment, his eyes narrowed against the cigarette smoke, then he de liberately stubbed out the cigarette and said sharply,

  'Sit down.'

  Lori's mouth tightened mutinously. 'What's the point? You're only going to…'

  But she broke off abruptly as he rose and, putting his hands on her shoulders, thrust her down hard into the chair.

  'I said sit down!' He looked at her grimly. 'And now you're going to shut up and listen to me.' He sat down again, his eyes still on her as if daring her to speak, but even when he was satisfied that she wouldn't, he still didn't say anything straightaway, and then, surprisingly, he asked, `How old are you?'

  She looked at him for a moment, wondering where this was leading, then answered reluctantly, `Twenty two.' The corner of his mouth twisted sourly and she could imagine just what he was thinking. She glanced at him and said bitterly, 'All right, why don't you get it over with?'

  He raised an eyebrow, his eyes cold again. `And just what do you expect me to say?'

  `That you're firing me, of course. That on the strength of one day's filming you know I'm no good.' Then a thought occurred to her and she sat up straight to say, 'But what about Thursday and Friday's takes; why haven't you shown me those? Could it possibly be because I did better in those?' she asked nastily. Casually he leant back in his chair and crossed his long legs. `I wouldn't know, I haven't seen them. The dailies are put on a plane to London every night after filming and then flown back here after they've been developed, the whole process taking forty-eight hours. The dailies,' he added sardonically, 'are the footage generated each day during filming.'

  But if he had thought to throw her he was disappointed. Lori said sarcastically, `How convenient l Well, we certainly can't expect you to wait for them be fore you get rid of me, can we?'

  His brow gathered into a frown. `Just what makes you so sure that I'm going to fire you?'

  She stared at him. `Because you never wanted me in the part, that's why. You've made that perfectly obvious not only to me but to every single member of the crew, and they've all followed your lead. It wouldn't have mattered if my work had been brilliant, you'd still have been determined to get rid of me.' She had to blink back tears and her voice grew husky as she swept on, 'Well, I don't care what you've been told about me or what you think of me, I only know you're unjust and unfair. But at least getting fired has one big advantage,' she added acidly, 'now I won't have to go through the living hell of having to work with you for three months ! '

  His grey eyes glittered at her angrily and he said sharply, 'Now let me tell you something, Miss West. It's quite true that I didn't want you in The Siege, not only because you used unfair means to get the part, but also because this film means a lot to me; the original idea was mine and I did all the research and wrote the outline for the screenplay. I've spent every spare minute I've had in the last three years trying to get backers, assembling the best crew I could find, and persuading actors who I thought were right for the roles to take part. And then my female lead gets enticed away to another picture and I'm told that I've got to have you or the whole deal falls through. Three years of solid work-and sweat wasted and the whole thing to begin again. Have you any idea of the work a director puts into a film?'

  Lori shook her head dumbly, impotent in the face of his anger.

  He stood up and glared down at her, then began to pace up and down like a caged animal. 'Making a film is blood, sweat and tears. It's a year of unbelievably hard work, of continuous problems that have to be sorted and settled, especially if the film is made entirely on location, as this one is. And a director doesn't just give creative impact to a film, he has to understand what it takes to get a film made-not just artistically, but in nut and -bolt production terms. He has to know enough about every job that goes into making a film from the scene shifter to the sound recorder-so that no expert can override his decision. He is the film, it's his creation.'

  He stopped and stood staring down where she shrank into her chair. `And I was supposed to risk all that, risk ha
ving the film ruined, just to satisfy the ambitions of the backer's girlfriend!' He leant forward suddenly and put his hands on the arms of her chair, glowering at her so that she jerked her head back. 'But believe me, I would have willingly given it all up, dissociated myself from the film completely and let some other director take over rather than be forced into using someone who would make The Siege a lesser film than I'd intended. I don't like blackmail or coercion, Miss West, and I don't like the people who use them.' This latter said so contemptuously that she was Left in no doubt at all that he was referring to her. He straightened and went on coldly, `But I was told that you could act, and you do bear some resemblance to my first choice, so I eventually agreed to give you a triad. So you see, Miss West, far more than your own future was waiting on the outcome of these rushes.'

  Lori stared up at him as he towered over her. `What - what are you saying?'

  `I'm saying that I was amazed to find that you do in deed have a little talent. And with a great deal of hard work and dedication you might eventually be worthy of the part you gained in such a dirty, underhanded way.'

  'You mean-you mean you're not going to fire me?' Lori was so stunned by this piece of news that she hardly took in the rest of his words.

  'No, I'm not. But before we go into details about your work, I want you to know this. As far as I'm concerned your private life is your own. I couldn't care less who you go to bed with, whether it's the young actor you were with yesterday or the foreigner I saw you going up to your room with the other night, but I…'

  'Now just a minute,' Lori burst in angrily. 'I just happened to be waiting for an elevator with the man, nothing more. And as for Tony Rodgers-well, he…'

  But Lewis Brent interrupted her sneeringly. 'Do you always laugh and joke with men you meet by the elevators?' He gave an impatient movement of his hand.

  'It's nothing to me either way. All I want to get through into your head is that I won't tolerate you creating rivalries among the men in the cast or in the crew so that it interrupts production of the film. Heaven knows, the members of a film crew on location are never very saintly at the best of times, but when a woman of your reputation is available it's asking for trouble. So I warn you now, confine your-activities to just one man or else to men outside the film. I don't want sexual jealousy on my set!' he finished bluntly.

 

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