Читать книгу Angel - Barbara Taylor Bradford - Страница 10

Almost three hundred people had been invited to the wrap party, and to Rosie, standing in the doorway, it looked as if everyone had shown up.

The entire unit was present, along with the cast, some of the studio executives, and quite a few civilians. The latter were the people only associated with the movie through their spouses, or nearest and dearest, and whom the producers had included on the invitation list as a courtesy.

Holding drinks in their hands, all were chatting animatedly, mingling together on the biggest sound stage at Shepperton, where the Great Hall of Middleham Castle had been re-created.

Moving forward to join the throng, Rosie saw that the set looked a little different than it had a few hours earlier, when the movie had finally wrapped. The large pieces of medieval-style furniture had been removed, a small combo played popular music in one corner, and the caterers had placed long trestle tables around the sound stage. Covered with starched white cloths, these were laden with food: smoked salmon and poached salmon from Scotland, roast chickens and turkeys, glazed hams, legs of lamb, sides of roast beef, and all manner of salads and vegetables, assorted cheeses, and fancy desserts ranging from French pastries and chocolate mousse with whipped cream to fruit salad and English trifle.

Two similar tables had been set up as bars and were being serviced by a string of bartenders, while dozens of waiters and waitresses were circulating with trays of drinks and appetizers.

A waiter glided past her, and Rosie whisked a glass of champagne off the tray, thanked him, and sallied forth into the crowd in search of Aida, and her assistants, Fanny and Val.

Within seconds she found the producer in conversation with some of the studio brass, and when Aida saw her approaching she excused herself and hurried forward.

Rosie exclaimed, ‘This is some wrap party. Congratulations!’

‘Oh, but I didn’t do anything,’ the producer demurred quickly, ‘except pick up a phone and call the caterers.’

Rosie grinned at her. ‘Of course you did something. You planned all this, so don’t be so modest. And incidentally, what do you have up your sleeve for later?’

Aida gave her a puzzled look. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Last week, over lunch, you told me you’d think of something special, something appropriate, to celebrate Bonfire Night, as well as the wrap.’

‘How about burning an effigy of Margaret Ellsworth?’ Fanny muttered in a low voice, as she sidled up to them with Val in tow.

‘Naughty, naughty,’ Rosie chastised, but her voice was mild and there was an amused glint in her eyes. Glancing at the producer, she went on, ‘What happened about the medieval dress? Did you sell it to Maggie?’

Aida shook her head. ‘No, I gave it to her. And if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never know why on earth she wanted it.’

‘Perhaps to play Lady Macbeth,’ Fanny suggested. ‘It’s the ideal role for her.’

‘Or Vampira,’ Val added, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, faking horror. ‘She’d be perfect for that part, too.’

‘Thanks very much, the three of you!’ Rosie said. ‘That certainly says a lot for my costumes.’

‘Your costumes are never anything but great, the greatest,’ Gavin said behind her, put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. Then he added softly, with a chuckle, ‘Look what the cat dragged in.’

‘I knew I’d find you somewhere around here, Rosie, swilling champagne and living it up,’ an unmistakable English voice said.

Instantly pivoting, her eyes opening wider, Rosie came face to face with Nell, who was beautifully made-up and coiffed and looked band-box smart in a black suit and pearls.

‘You made it, Nelly! How wonderful!’ Rosie exclaimed in delight.

The two women, such close friends for years, hugged each other fiercely, and when they finally drew apart, Nell said, ‘How could I miss this wrap party? It’s my picture, too, isn’t it?’

‘Indeed it is,’ Aida asserted, and stepping forward she shook Nell’s hand. ‘Welcome back.’

‘Thanks, Aida, and I must say it’s nice to see all of you again,’ Nell responded, and she smiled warmly at Fanny and Val, including them in this statement.

Rosie’s assistants greeted her affectionately, returned her smile, and then quickly slid away.

Aida also made a move to take her leave, explaining, ‘I think I’d better go and check on everything. And persuade that combo to play something a bit livelier. Oh, and regarding Bonfire Night, Rosie, I did come up with something. But it’s a surprise. See you later.’ With this comment she hurried off.

Gavin took two glasses of champagne from a passing waitress, handed one to Nell, and immediately the three of them moved into a corner of the sound stage where it was a bit quieter.

Rosie took hold of Nell’s arm affectionately. ‘It’s great to see you. When did you arrive in London?’

‘A short while ago. From Paris.’

‘Oh. What were you doing there?’

‘I had a business meeting this morning. I came in last night on the French Concorde from New York…with Johnny Fortune. He’s in the midst of planning a concert for next spring – the French adore him, you know. Anyway, we had to get together with the impresario involved, but once everything was clarified and the meeting more or less finished, I rushed out to the airport and grabbed the first plane to London.’

‘How long are you staying?’ Gavin asked.

‘Just a few days. Johnny’s coming in on Thursday morning. He has a concert at the Albert Hall on Saturday night, so I’ve got my hands full. After that I’ll be heading back to New York, once I’ve seen Aunt Phyllis. I’ll probably go on Monday or Tuesday.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Rosie murmured. ‘I’d have been disappointed if you were away when I’m there. We don’t see enough of each other these days, and I was looking forward to spending some time with you.’

‘I know; me too, darling, and there’s no danger of our not seeing each other, Rosie mine. Oh, and before I forget, here’s the spare key to my apartment.’ As she spoke, Nell fished around in her handbag, brought out a key and handed it to Rosie. ‘You know the house rules – make yourself at home and don’t lift a finger. Leave everything to Maria, she’ll look after you beautifully.’

‘Thanks, Nell,’ Rosie said, and put the key in her purse.

The two of them began to make plans for Rosie’s trip to New York, and Gavin took a step backward, wanting to give them space and privacy to talk between themselves for a few minutes.

Propping himself up against a wall, he took a sip of his wine, hoping he would be feeling better soon.

Gavin had not wanted to don the surgical collar for the party, because to do so would prevent him from wearing a tie. But at the last minute he had had to put it on when his neck had suddenly begun to bother him. Because of the bulky collar, he had dressed more casually than he normally did for this kind of occasion, selecting a navy silk shirt, worn open at the neck, grey slacks and a navy cashmere jacket. Now he was glad he had chosen these clothes; they were comfortable, and he felt less constricted in them, despite the surgical collar around his neck.

As he continued to sip his drink, he surreptitiously studied Rosalind Madigan, his best friend and only confidante.

Earlier in the day he had thought she looked excessively pale and overtired, which was one of the reasons he had made such a fuss about the new projects she was planning to take on, now that Kingmaker was finished. But tonight, surprisingly, she seemed refreshed, and there was a wonderful glow about her. The dark rings under her eyes had disappeared and colour flushed her cheeks to a pretty pink. It pleased him that she unexpectedly looked so much better, and then almost immediately he knew what she had done.

She made a trip to Make-up, he thought, that’s the real reason she’s acquired such a peachy bloom in the past few hours. Katie Grange, the head make-up artist on the movie, was noted for her very special talent for giving even the most tired-looking actor a healthy and youthful appearance. Undoubtedly Katie had skilfully applied a few cosmetics, and in so doing had instantly camouflaged those tell-tale signs of overwork, long hours, and perpetual worry which had given Rosie’s face such a washed-out tinge of late.

And she had also visited Hairdressing, he thought, leaning forward slightly, peering more closely at Rosie. She had beautiful hair: it was reddish-brown and fell to her shoulders in glossy, luxuriant waves, and he could see that it had been professionally set and combed by Gil Watts.

No matter, Rosie had benefited from the bit of help from the professionals, and this pleased him no end. She looked better than she had in months, although he had to admit he didn’t particularly like the wool dress she was wearing, mostly because of the colour. It was dark grey, and although it was superbly cut and tailored it was far too dull for her. But then this was something of an old story these days. Rosie was so busy designing costumes for other people that half the time she didn’t pay too much attention to what she wore herself. He liked her best in the bright colours she used to favour when they were kids – scarlet, yellow, blue, and almost any shade of green, which enhanced the colour of her large, expressive green eyes.

Gavin stifled a sigh as he considered Rosie’s problems, the burdens she had shouldered in the past few years. Too many for one person. He was forever telling her this, but she would not listen to him, and the stringent response she usually made invariably ended that particular topic of conversation.

Obscurely, in a remote corner of his mind, there lurked the nagging thought that he ought to shoulder her burdens, indeed must do so, out of love and friendship. But she would not let him; she refused his help, as well as his money. He had made a lot of that from his movies in the last few years, and what was the point of having money if you couldn’t use it to make life easier for someone you cared about. He wished Rosie would take some of it, since it would free her in so many different ways.

Because of her constant refusal to do this, he harboured a profound and permanent sense of frustration, and deep in his gut there existed a gnawing anger with those irritating people she persisted in calling her family. Bums, the lot of them, he thought, the anger flying to the surface momentarily.

Rosie was too good for them, that was for sure.

Rosalind Madigan was the finest, most decent person he knew, had ever known. She did not have one bad bone in her body, was kind, considerate, and generous to a fault. She never said an unkind word about anyone, and was always trying to help those less fortunate than she was herself.

That’s the basic problem, Gavin suddenly thought. She’s far too good – for her own good. But she had been like that as a teenager, usually seeing only the best in people, expecting the best of them. He suspected she would never change. A leopard didn’t change its spots, did it?

In his mind, Gavin characterized Rosie as the All-American Girl. A long-stemmed American Beauty rose. She was beautiful. And vital, friendly, open, honest. In particular, he loved her intelligence and enthusiasm. Because she had such a good mind, he could talk to her about anything, and she always understood what he was getting at; and that enthusiasm of hers was a bonus. She was not a bit jaded; in fact, she was the least jaded person he knew. Even though she was sophisticated in many ways, had been exposed to a great deal and was well travelled, she was neither world-weary nor cynical. He considered that to be an extraordinary accomplishment for someone who lived in their world – the glitzy, glamorous, bitchy, competitive, cruel world of show business.

Suddenly growing conscious that he had been staring too hard and too long at Rosie, Gavin shifted the focus of his eyes to Nell Jeffrey.

Rosie was of average height, about five feet six, but she looked so much taller and bigger-boned when she was with Nell, who was much smaller, and delicately made. To Gavin she was like a little china doll, with her pink and white English complexion and silver-gilt hair. But he was well aware that her porcelain looks belied great tenacity, one of the shrewdest brains he had ever encountered, and an unusual stubbornness which occasionally bordered on pigheadedness.

Yes, she’s quite a gal, our Little Nell, he thought, regarding her over the rim of his glass, his expression contemplative.

In the fourteen years since he met her, which was when she first came from London to New York, Nell had carved out quite an extraordinary career for herself, had become one of the most successful and powerful publicists in America. Apart from representing the bel canto balladeer of the nineties, the immensely popular singer Johnny Fortune, Rosie, himself and all of his movies, Nell also handled the public relations for a major Hollywood studio, a number of other top movie stars, screenwriters, directors, producers and a handful of best-selling novelists.

After working for several prestigious public relations firms in New York, where she learned her trade and learned it very well, Nell had founded her own company when she was twenty-seven. Over the past four years that it had been in existence it had truly flourished, and now she had a big staff and offices in New York, Los Angeles and London.

Successful though she was in business, Nell’s personal life was as unfulfilled and as unrewarding as Rosie’s. How he wished the two of them would find a couple of nice guys to settle down with.

Gavin took a long swallow of his wine, genuinely amazed at himself. And he wondered how he, of all people, could think a thing like that.

It was Mikey, as far as Nell was concerned, Gavin knew. For a long time now he had been convinced that she had never properly recovered from her youthful romance with Mikey, and then when he had vanished two years ago she had simply switched off. At least as far as men were concerned.

As for Rosie, that was another matter altogether.

In a sense, she was in far deeper trouble with her personal life than either him or Nell. But he did not wish to contemplate that at the moment.

Already an extremely complex woman, because of her very nature Rosie was submerged in any number of other complications, all of which stemmed from the life she had chosen to lead. Consistently, she denied this; equally, she pooh-poohed the idea that she was a complex person. But he knew better.

Nell cut into his thoughts, when she said, ‘You’re looking awfully pensive, my lad. One is sad, of course, when a movie ends. But under the circumstances, I would have thought you’d be relieved…I mean, as executive producer surely you must be thinking thank God it’s in the can, there’re no more disasters to worry about. That sort of thing. No?’ She raised a blonde brow questioningly.

Gavin nodded in agreement. ‘I am relieved, Nell, believe me I am. And I’m not pensive, at least not about the movie. To tell you the truth, I was thinking about the two of you, and wishing you’d find a couple of nice guys. Settle down –’

‘Bloody hell, perish the thought!’ Nell cried, cutting him off, recoiling slightly, looking at him askance. ‘I’m perfectly happy the way I am, thank you very much.’

Rosie said, ‘And so am I, Gavin, so please don’t give us a hard time.’

‘Okay, okay,’ he said, backing off. ‘I was only playing big brother, and there’s no need to get all excited and het up.’

Grinning at him, Nell said, ‘We know you only have the best of intentions, Gavin, when it comes to us – your favourites. But we can take care of ourselves, you know. We’re grown-up girls now. Come on, let’s grab ourselves fresh drinks and plunge into that mob.’ Winking at him theatrically, mugging, she finished, ‘Who knows who we might find lurking out there in the madding crowd, eh?’

He laughed and so did Rosie.

Gavin said, We had better join the party, circulate a bit. This crew and the entire unit have been really terrific, and I’d like to have a drink with them, spend a bit of time chatting. Anyway, I want to thank all of them personally.’

The surprise Aida had arranged for Bonfire Night was a fireworks display.

It started at nine o’clock, after the buffet supper was over, and took place on the back lot of the studios. Everyone stood outside, watching, cheering, and dapping loudly as different special effects filled the night sky. Catherine wheels, cascades, waterfalls, rockets, starbursts, rainbows and snowfalls were set off one after the other, exploding brilliant colours and delicate, intricate patterns into the darkness and illuminating the studio buildings. It was breathtaking, a magical, fairy-tale show of colour and light that lasted for over twenty minutes.

But the most spectacular part was the finale, when the name of the movie was spelled out in fireworks mounted to a giant frame. And following the title Kingmaker came the words, Thanks, Gavin.

Once the renewed burst of loud cheering and clapping subsided, a clear baritone voice began to sing, ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good fellow,’ and everyone joined in enthusiastically.

Singing along with them, Rosie knew they meant every word, and so did she.

‘Do you think Gavin’s marriage is in trouble?’ Nell asked, giving Rosie a penetrating look.

So startled was Rosie by the question that she almost dropped her mug of tea, and she simply stared back at her friend speechlessly. When she eventually found her voice, she said, ‘Whatever makes you say a thing like that?’

Now it was Nell’s turn to be silent, and she sat back on the sofa, a thoughtful expression settling on her face.

Rosie continued to stare at her, waiting for an answer.

It was late, well after one o’clock in the morning, and the two women were relaxing in Rosie’s suite at the Athenaeum Hotel in Piccadilly. She, Gavin, and most of the American contingent on the film had been living there for months, and Nell had checked in earlier in the day, as she invariably did when she came to London.

They had been driven back from the party at Shepperton Studios in Gavin’s limousine, and he had come with them to Rosie’s suite for a nightcap. But he had left well over an hour ago, claiming total fatigue. There was no denying he had looked exhausted, his face grown pinched and wan all of a sudden, and it was obvious that the surgical collar was bothering him. ‘I’ve got to get this damn thing off, take a pain-killer and go to bed,’ he had mumbled to them as he left the suite.

Rosie and Nell had continued to talk for a while longer, catching up on all their news; a few minutes ago, Rosie had gone to the small kitchenette at one end of the sitting room where she had made a pot of tea.

Now she sat nursing the mug in both hands, her eyes on Nell’s face. ‘Why would you think a thing like that, Nell? About Gavin’s marriage?’ she asked again, and repeated, ‘Why?’

Nell looked at her fully, and explained slowly, in a low voice, ‘Louise was not here for the wrap party. That’s never happened before. I mean, she’s always been at his wrap parties, whether they’ve been in New York, LA, or on foreign location.’

‘But she had to go back to California,’ Rosie replied. To get ready for Christmas.’

‘Christmas! It’s only the beginning of November, for God’s sake!’

‘Well maybe it was for Thanksgiving, I can’t really remember. In any case, she has been here a great deal, commuting between London and Los Angeles. So I’m sure everything’s all right. Besides, she does have a career of her own.’

‘Career! What career? Sitting on charity committees, is that what you mean?’

Unable to dismiss the apparent scorn reverberating in Nell’s voice, Rosie eyed her friend carefully. ‘Do I detect a slightly bitchy note here?’ she asked.

‘Perhaps you do. I don’t like Louise Ambrose, and I never have from the first day I met her, when she came creeping around Gavin. I don’t know what he saw in her then, or what he sees in her now – if anything. She is one person who hasn’t improved with age and maturity, she’s only grown worse. In my opinion, she’s perfectly ridiculous, and certainly I’ll never understand their relationship. Never. In any case, Gavin should have married you.’

‘Oh come on, Nelly, don’t start that at this hour. You know very well that when Gavin and I had our little thing we were just a couple of kids, for heaven’s sake –’

‘He’s still in love with you.’

Rosie’s gaze intensified, then she spluttered, ‘Now that is pure nonsense! He’s no more in love with me than I am with him.’

‘Want to bet?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Scared to hear the truth, Rosie mine?’

‘Not at all. But you’re way off on this, Nelly, way off. I’ve worked with Gavin around the clock for the past nine months, so don’t you think I’d know if he were in love with me? Anyway, back then in New York we were so young…infatuated would be a far better, and more accurate, word to use to explain how we felt about each other.’

‘This is Little Nell sitting here, Angel Face. That’s what he’s always lovingly called you, isn’t it? But to continue, it’s me who’s looking you right in the eye, and you can’t fool me. You were in love with him, Rosie Madigan, you told me so at the time, just in case you’ve forgotten. And I remember very well that you were so smitten with him you couldn’t see straight. And Gavin reciprocated those feelings. He was in love with you. He’s in love with you now.’

‘Don’t be so ridiculous. I’d know.’

‘No, you wouldn’t, you’re too involved with all those bloody Frogs.’

‘Please, Nell, not tonight. I’m tired,’ Rosie said, a pleading note entering her voice.

‘So am I. Listen, getting back to my original point, I really do think Gavin’s unhappy with Louise.’

‘And I’m absolutely certain he isn’t. I’ve been with them a lot during this picture, more than you have, Nell. He adores Louise, and his behaviour towards her hasn’t changed, it’s exactly the same as it’s always been.’

‘So what – he’s an actor.’

Rosie frowned but made no comment. After a moment, she said in a firm voice, ‘You still haven’t given me a valid reason why you suddenly think his marriage is in trouble.’ There was a little pause. ‘Do you know something I don’t?’ she demanded.

‘No, I don’t. Let’s forget it, shall we?’ Nell said this far too quickly, and then she shrugged, offered Rosie a faint, somewhat regretful smile.

A silence fell between them.

Eventually Nell said: ‘Look, it’s just a feeling I have, Rosie. As I started to tell you before, it did seem awfully odd to me that she wasn’t at the wrap party this evening. God knows – and so do I – the fuss she’s made in the past about being present, no matter what it entailed getting her there.’ Nell shook her head. ‘She was unbelievable! I became aware of her tonight because of her very noticeable absence. I also thought it was peculiar that she wasn’t cheering him from the sidelines, if not, indeed, from the centre of things. You know her ego. She wants to be perpetually in the limelight. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that one would think she’d want to privately and publicly pat him on the back for pulling this off, wouldn’t you? Kingmaker is one hell of an achievement.’

Recognizing certain truths in all of this, Rosie nodded her head. She said slowly, ‘But, nevertheless, it’s not really enough to think they’re having problems, is it?’

Nell let out a small sigh, and shook her head. ‘I guess not. And as I said a moment ago, let’s forget it, Rosie. Perhaps I’m just imagining things.’ Nell sprang to her feet purposely, added briskly, ‘I’d better let you get to bed.’

‘I do have to get up early,’ Rosie murmured, placed her mug on the table and also stood up.

Together they walked across the room; Rosie opened the door and turned to Nell. ‘Gavin’s marriage is not in trouble, honestly it isn’t. I would know.’

No, you wouldn’t, Nell thought, you can’t see the wood for the trees. And he would never tell you how he feels. How could he?

Leaning closer, Nell kissed Rosie on the cheek. ‘Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going out to Shepperton, to go over the stills the unit photographer took this past week. I’ll be there all day, planning some magazine spreads on Kingmaker with the unit publicist.’

‘Then let’s have lunch at the studio.’

‘I’d love to, Rosie. See you.’

‘Sleep tight, Nell.’

Rosie closed the door and walked slowly back to the bedroom, reflecting on Nell’s words. She found them quite extraordinary.