Barbara Taylor Bradford’s 4-Book Collection

‘Don’t get so hot under the collar, Jer,’ Jake soothed, staring after him, recognizing his nose was out of joint. He probably thought he had been cut out of some top-level decision-making. ‘Victor only decided to beat it an hour ago. I came looking for you, as soon as I knew about his change in plan, but you’d already split.’

‘When’s he coming back? Correction. He’s not, if the luggage is anything to go by,’ Jerry muttered, swinging around to face Jake, glaring at him.

‘That’s right.’

‘It was my understanding Mark needed Victor for an extra scene on Monday,’ Terry remarked carefully, his curiosity aroused.

‘Mark changed his mind,’ Jake said, deciding it would be more discreet to tamper with the truth than tell it the way it really was. ‘He had a breakfast meeting with Victor this morning, to go over the rest of the shooting schedule, and he decided the additional scene would be redundant, a waste of film, and everybody’s time. He’s got far too much footage in the can as it is, he’s over-shot like crazy as he always does, and a lot of it has to end up on the cutting room floor. Victor agreed the scene wasn’t really necessary. It wasn’t in the script in the first place. It’s the one Mark added, you know, when Heathcliff is walking on the moors late at night and thinks he sees Cathy ahead of him … well, the ghost of Cathy. The scene would’ve had to be shot at night, which they wanted to avoid. Also, they both decided it was a bit too esoteric,’ Jake finished, feeling rather pleased with his censored version of the stormy breakfast meeting at which Victor had finally put his foot down.

Jerry Massingham’s attitude changed, and for the better. He grinned delightedly. ‘Well, I’m glad to hear it. A smart decision. I knew all along we didn’t need that new scene. We’ve got enough mystical bloody mumbo-jumbo in this picture as it is. Not that I would presume to tell Mark how to make his bouillabaisse, of course. Good. It’ll save us some money in the long run.’

Jake said, ‘That’s the spirit, Jer. I was pretty damned sure you’d see the practical side. And listen, bubeleh, I’m sorry you had to sweat it up to the post office, particularly on that antiquated machine.’

‘No harm done, laddie,’ Jerry replied with geniality, his good humour completely restored.

‘Well, you two, I’ve got to push off, I’m afraid. See you later,’ Terry announced and edged in the direction of the steps.

‘Righto, old boy,’ Jerry said, and Jake added, ‘Take it easy, Terrence.’ He put his arm around Massingham’s shoulders and went on, ‘I need to talk to you about a couple of production matters.’

Terry left them with their heads lowered, huddled together near the car, and bounded up the front steps. Inside the lobby he stopped at the desk to inquire if there were any messages, and then took the lift to the second floor. He peered at his watch as he went down the corridor, saw that he was late. Katharine wouldn’t mind, he was sure of that. She had said she was going to study her scenes until he arrived.

He rapped on the door and she opened it almost immediately. ‘Hello, Puss,’ he said.

‘Terry darling!’ she exclaimed. Her eyes swept over him. ‘Don’t you look gorgeous,’ she added, opened the door wider and led him into her suite.

‘Thanks, and I must return the compliment. Night shooting appears to agree with you, from the way you look.’

‘Merci, monsieur,’ Katharine laughed. ‘Come and sit here, it’s lovely and sunny. I just ordered fresh tea, and this funny peppery sort of cake that I simply adore.’

Terry joined her, glanced at the chunks of moist brown cake on the plate and grinned down at her. ‘That’s parkin, Katharine. One of my favourite treats when I was a kid. And it’s ginger you can taste, you silly girl, not pepper. I think I will have a piece, and milk please, not lemon, in the tea.’ He lowered himself into a chair, and announced, ‘I just bumped into Jake. And get this! Victor’s leaving us today.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Katharine replied blithely, lifting the milk jug. ‘He was here a little while ago – to say goodbye.’

‘Naturally.’ Terry chuckled knowingly, a sardonic gleam in his eyes.

Katharine’s dark head flew up and she frowned at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Teacher’s pet … of course he wouldn’t leave without taking his fond farewells.’

‘For what it’s worth, he also stopped off to take his fond farewell of you,’ she retorted in an airy tone. ‘But you were out. So he told me to give you his best, and you’re to “sock it to ’em next week”, quote unquote.’

‘I see.’

‘Oh stop teasing me about Victor, Terry,’ Katharine exclaimed, sounding impatient; but there was fondness in her expression and her turquoise eyes danced with merriment. ‘Victor doesn’t pay much more attention to me than he does to anyone else in the film.’ She smiled dismissively.

‘Oh come on, Katharine!’ Terry spluttered. ‘How can you say that! You have lunch with him practically every day, sit next to him on the set, or with him in his trailer here on location, and he never takes his eagle eyes off you.’

‘But I’m under personal contract to him, or rather, to Bellissima Productions, and anyway I’ve never made a film before. You have. He’s only trying to help me,’ she protested. ‘Besides, you’ve had lunch with him a lot too, and you’ve also been ensconced in the trailer with hi –’

‘Playing poker, Puss.’ Terry’s look was full of speculation. ‘What do you two do in his trailer?’ he asked with a suggestive smirk.

‘Terry! That’s enough! I don’t like the implication, particularly since you know very well I’m dating Kim Cunningham.’

‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Puss. I’m only pulling your leg. How is Kim, by the way? I thought he looked awfully morose last night.’

‘He’s all right – I suppose,’ Katharine sighed, her face becoming sombre. ‘I think he feels a bit neglected. He’s made it very difficult for me in some ways. He thought we’d be seeing each other every night while we were shooting in Yorkshire, but that’s been impossible. You know what it’s like at the end of the day. Frankly, I’m drained, and I’ve had my new scenes to concentrate on at night, and my preparations for the next day. Mark’s such a stickler about every single detail, as we’ve all found out. And Victor’s been on my back about getting lots of rest.’ She made a small moue. ‘I haven’t had a great deal of spare time for poor Kim, and I guess he resents it.’

‘The work does come first with you, doesn’t it, love?’

‘Yes,’ she agreed emphatically, and hesitated. ‘But –’ Katharine leaned back, and changing the subject, she said, ‘You sounded so mysterious on the ’phone. I’ve been dying to know why you wanted to see me this morning. Come on, my darling, tell me what this is all about.’

He looked at her carefully, a small smile trickling across his mouth. ‘It seems as though I never stop thanking you these days, Puss darling. That’s why I’m here. To thank you again for another good deed.’

‘What do you mean –’ She stopped abruptly. Her eyes filled with happiness, and she clapped her hands. ‘Oh goody! Hilly Steed! It worked, didn’t it, Terry?’ He nodded, excitement bubbling over in him. ‘Yes. And how! He offered me a three-picture deal with Monarch. The contracts arrived yesterday from my agent. I signed them this morning and posted them a little while ago. It looks as if we’re going to be in Hollywood together, Katharine. I start my first picture under the contract in October, when you’re starting yours. I’ve read the script and it’s bloody marvellous. A superb drama. I’ve got the second male lead, but after the first film I’ll be playing only leading men. So Hilly promised me. He’s got great plans, wants to build me.’ Terry reached out and patted her hand. ‘Anyway, I owe my good fortune to you, love. You started the ball rolling with Hillard, and whatever you said to him obviously made the right impression.’

‘Oh how wonderful, darling! I’m so excited for you, and thrilled,’ Katharine cried, her pleasure and sincerity genuine. ‘And I didn’t do much, Terry. You did it yourself really. You’re marvellous in the picture. Hilly was ecstatic about the rushes –’

‘What did you say to him?’

‘Do you really want to know?’ She did not wait for a reply. ‘I was quite clever really. That day I had lunch with Hilly at Shepperton he was raving about you, and I told him Victor felt the same way. Then I said, “In fact, I think Victor’s going to sign Terry to a personal contract with Bellissima. He believes Terry is going to be very big after Wuthering Heights is released.” I let that sink in, and I could see Hilly was turning rather green with envy. He’s very competitive with Victor, as a producer I mean. Then I delivered my punch line. I sighed, a bit sadly, patted Hilly’s arm in commiseration and said, “What a pity you didn’t think of signing Terrence Ogden first, Hilly. After all, you just missed getting me by a hair’s breadth. It looks as if Victor is about to steal another march on you. Certainly he’s cornering the market on new young talent.” Poor Hilly, he couldn’t finish his lunch. Awfully upset, poor thing. I do believe I ruined his day,’ she laughed. ‘I could see his mind ticking over. He asked me a few questions, also whether you had actually signed with Victor or not. Naturally I was suitably vague. I suggested he call you.’ Katharine sat back, looking sweetly innocent and gratified with herself.

‘You’re incorrigible, Katharine.’ Terry shook his head.

‘Oooh, I know I am.’ She smiled at him prettily, for all the world like a mischievous child. ‘But sometimes it’s fun to be incorrigible. And I did get the desired results, didn’t I?’

‘Yes. And what if Hillard had spoken to Victor first? Then where would you have been?’

Katharine gave him the benefit of a withering look and said, her tone scathing, ‘You don’t know Hilly Street very well. He would never tip his hand like that. I was positive he would approach you immediately, that he would try to cut Victor out, and he was true to form.’ She shrugged. ‘Elementary psychology, my dear Watson.’

‘Quite so, Holmes, quite so,’ Terry responded, taking her cue, amusement tugging at his mouth. He lit a cigarette, observing her through slightly narrowed eyes. There were those who might consider that Katharine had been cunning and conniving. He preferred to think of her dealings with Hillard Steed in less derogatory terms, attributing them to an inveterate shrewdness rather than any form of deviousness. Although this was not the first occasion she had displayed her inimitable brand of astuteness, again he was startled, as he had been in the past. Perhaps this was because her looks belied her intelligence, which he knew to be considerable, as did her air of childlike naïveté, never more pronounced than it was this morning.

Katharine filled the teapot with hot water, and asked, ‘Another cup, Terry?’

‘Yes, thanks.’ He watched her closely, his eyes evaluating. She was wearing a tailored white shirt of fine cotton voile and a navy blue cotton skirt. Both were simple, demure, could only be described as schoolgirl clothes. In point of fact, she did not look much older than sixteen at this moment. A line of Petruchio’s flew into his mind: Yet sweet as springtime flowers. Yes, that was the impression she made today, with her chestnut hair falling in tumbling waves to her shoulders, her eloquent face sparkling fresh, entirely devoid of makeup except for the bright red lipstick she generally favoured, and her eyes so brilliantly alive. A bonny Kate indeed, the prettiest Kate in Christendom, Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate, he thought, borrowing from Shakespeare again. But no shrew was she. Just the opposite, for there was a vulnerability about her, a poignancy in her that always tugged at his heartstrings. Yet he knew she had a will of iron, a terrifying self-sufficiency and great tenacity. Perhaps this duality in her personality was the secret of her extraordinary appeal, for it gave her an elusive quality that was intriguing. Once, months back, he had seriously toyed with the idea of sweeping her off the stage, off her feet – both literally and figuratively – and into his bed smartly. But suddenly he had wavered and ultimately he had changed his mind. He was not sure why he had done so, and the moment had passed and he had never felt the impulse again. It no longer mattered. Hilary, his own true love, had come back to him, bringing him priceless gifts of adoration and understanding and belief, making him a whole and complete man once more. Giving meaning to his life.

‘You’re looking terribly serious. Is something wrong, Terrence?’

‘No, Puss.’ A gentle smile, and then, ‘Just wool-gathering, that’s all.’

Katharine returning his smile, took a sip of her tea, put the cup down and said slowly, ‘What about … Hilary?’

How much had she guessed? He felt himself stiffening but he asked casually enough, ‘What about Hilary?’

‘How did she react when she heard about your contract and that you’re leaving for California shortly?’

‘She was overjoyed. She believes that only by going to Hollywood can one truly become an international movie star. And you know Hilary, she only ever wants the best for her friends.’

‘Yes, she’s a lovely person.’ Katharine shifted in the chair, and glanced out of the window. She had been about to remark that Hilary would miss him, but she swallowed these words. Despite their new closeness, there were still some lines she was afraid to cross. There was an imperiousness in Terry, an aloofness that sprang from his natural reserve, held him apart, forbade familiarity of a certain nature. As an actor he was nonpareil, particularly with his brilliant and stunning interpretations of Shakespearean roles, and she was for ever conscious of his prominence and standing in the English theatre, of the reverence in which he was held by his peers, and not unnaturally these considerations served as a further restraint. After a second, Katharine swung her gaze back to him, and asked, ‘And Norman? What did he say?’