Читать книгу The Secret Father - Ким Лоренс, KIM LAWRENCE - Страница 7

LINDY stared at the sheaf of papers Sam pushed into her hands.

‘This is nonsense,’ she said slowly as she deciphered the printed gobbledygook. At first glance the characters’ names were the only things that made any sense to her.

‘So is medical jargon to me and the scriptwriter. Fill in the blanks with authentic terminology and Ned will make any adjustments. Is there something you don’t understand?’

Lindy compressed her lips and bit back a vitriolic retort. He had said she’d be working hard for her money, and he wasn’t wrong! She was used to unsociable hours, but she hadn’t expected to see the sun rise over the ocean on her way to work this morning.

A peremptory banging on her bedroom door had woken her at an ungodly hour. Sam had proceeded to inform her through an inch of wood that she had half an hour before he was off. This was the reason why she didn’t have a scrap of make-up on and her hair, which needed shampooing, was scraped back in a ponytail. She felt cross, tired, nervous and very ill-used. Where were sisters when you needed them? she wondered.

Sam Rourke was the most inconsiderate man she’d ever come across. To add insult to injury, he had scarcely appeared to notice her on the journey to the Gothic-looking mansion at which, it transpired, they were filming. A lot had been going on behind those spectacular eyes, but none of it involved her! That suited her just fine, she told herself. She had watched as Sam’s presence on the set had a similar effect to a bracing wind, and those who, like herself, felt sluggish were soon infected by the man’s vitality and enthusiasm.

‘Fine,’ he said, taking her silence as acquiescence. ‘I’ll look it over later.’ Lindy watched him stride away with a purposeful air and wished she knew what she was doing.

‘You look lost.’

Lindy turned to the owner of the sympathetic voice. ‘I’m moving in that direction,’ she admitted.

‘I’m Ned Stewart, the writer.’

Lindy smiled. He was being modest adding his job description. Like millions of others she was a fan of N.A. Stewart’s best-selling psychological thrillers. This was the first time that anyone had attempted to transfer his work to the big screen and Lindy, who had loved the book, would have hoped that the production would do it justice even if she hadn’t had a personal interest in the enterprise.

‘Lindy Lacey,’ she said, smiling warmly. With brown eyes, brown hair and a slow smile, he didn’t look like someone who could produce such dark menace on the printed page; he looked much too wholesome.

‘You shouldn’t worry about admitting you need help from Sam, Lindy Lacey. He’s very good at making tough concepts simple, and he’s no tyrant.’ He gave her a shrewd grin. ‘You’re a latecomer; it’s bound to take you a while to settle in. I’ve outlined the scene and what’s happening, who’s talking and for approximately how long. You just need to substitute suitable medical lingo. If you need a hand, just yell.’

Lindy didn’t yell. Several hours later she was curled up in a corner of Hope’s trailer, eating a plate of food and feeling cautiously pleased with the results of her efforts, when her sister came in. She didn’t notice Lindy at first. She sat down in front of the mirror and closed her eyes.

‘You look exhausted,’ Lindy said.

Hope started. ‘You’ve finally perfected the art of invisibility, I see.’ Her smile flashed out and the lines of strain around her eyes vanished.

‘Perhaps you should have earlier nights.’

‘There’s no need for painful subtlety, Lindy,’ Hope said wearily. ‘I’m not about to do anything to jeopardise this movie,’ she added firmly. ‘I want to be taken seriously as an actress, not someone who got the job because of her famous face and long legs. I’m on time and I don’t do tantrums.’

‘How did you get the job?’

‘You mean did I sleep with the producer? Or would it bother you more if it was the director?’

Anger flashed in her sister’s eyes, but Lindy didn’t back down; she stared calmly back. Something was clearly bothering Hope, who normally had a sunny disposition.

‘I meant, how did you get the job?’

‘If you must know, I did a test for a part in Shadow of Her Smile,’ Hope said more coolly, referring to the previous year’s summer box-office hit which Lloyd Elliot had produced and directed. ‘I didn’t get it, but Lloyd remembered me, and when he got involved in the project with Sam he mentioned my name. I did a test that blew Sam’s mind,’ she said with engaging frankness. ‘Before you say it, yes, I am grateful to Lloyd but not that grateful.’

‘Something’s going on.’

‘Just forget it, Lindy, forget it,’ Hope pleaded wearily.

Lindy sighed. What choice did she have? she thought, giving a philosophical shrug. ‘Is the food always this good?’ She pushed aside the empty plate before she got to her feet. The catering trailer appeared to produce vast quantities of food all day. ‘I’ll be the size of a house if I go on like this.’