Obsession (42 page)

‘Oh no, Fliss,’ Corrie said, trying to ignore the sudden dance her heart was performing. ‘I’m just not in the mood now. Not after what’s happened.’

‘Then we’ll just have to get you in the mood, won’t we?’ Felicity said, sneaking up behind her and poking her in the ribs.

Corrie squealed and managed to wriggle out of the way before Felicity could get her again. ‘Felicity, no,’ she laughed. ‘I’m not going, so let’s drop the subject.’

‘So you’re prepared to let this golden opportunity pass you by, are you?’ Felicity demanded. ‘Probably the only chance you’ll ever get in your life to see him again?’

‘You don’t have to put it like that.’

‘Well that’s how it is,’ Felicity shrugged. She turned back to her pile of chopped carrot, watching Corrie from the corner of her eye. A moment or two later she said, ‘Would it help if I told you he knew you were coming? That he himself gave permission for us to visit the set? You don’t want to let him down now, surely?’ Whether or not Carl had actually mentioned Corrie’s name Felicity had no idea, though she strongly doubted it. Probably all Cristos knew was that a couple of visitors from London were going to appear at some point in the day, but what harm would it do to bend the truth a little if it ended up getting Corrie what she wanted? And it sure seemed to have done the trick, because when Felicity looked up again Corrie was beaming all over her crimson face.

– 17 –

‘OK, WE’RE HERE
,’ Felicity declared, steering the car from Olympic Boulevard onto Hill Street. ‘And somewhere around here … Yes, there it is, the Mayan Theatre. And, lo and behold, prop trucks, lighting trucks, generators and the whole caboodle.’

‘I feel sick,’ Corrie muttered. ‘Let’s turn back now, before anyone sees us.’

‘Not on your life,’ Felicity grinned. ‘Luke, stick your head out and ask that cop where we should park.’

‘Do you think he’s a real one, or an actor?’ Luke asked, winding down the window.

‘He’s real. All sets are guarded by the police out here.’

Corrie sat stiffly in her seat, thankful that no one could detect the almighty chaos going on in her chest, her stomach and her bowels. She was too nervous and embarrassed even to mind about Luke coming with them, though she had resolutely refused to speak to him.

A few minutes later their car was parked and they were walking back along the street towards the theatre. A few people, all it seemed in shorts, T-shirts and peaked caps, were milling about outside, and to Corrie’s astonishment Felicity crept up behind one man and accosted him by the seat of his pants.

‘Leonard Bloom!’ she cried. ‘How you doing you old rogue?’

The man spun round and the instant he saw Felicity his sun-weathered old face lit up. ‘What you doing here, kid?’ he laughed, throwing his arms round her in an enormous bear hug, ‘Gee, this sure is one surprise. It’s good to see you, babe.’

‘I’m doing a movie out here, aren’t I?’ Felicity chuckled. ‘Not this one. This one we’re just visiting.’ She turned to Corrie and Luke. ‘This old reprobate here,’ she told them,
‘was
a sparks on the last movie I did in Hollywood. He’s a great guy, and …’ she added turning back to Len, ‘he’s going to go inside and find Carl for us.’

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Just tell me who the guy is, I’ll go get him.’

‘He’s the unit publicist,’ Felicity laughed. ‘Short fellow with a ginger moustache.’

‘There’s over two hundred people inside that theatre,’ Len said, scratching his head. ‘You’d better come along inside with me and point him out – if you can find him.’

As they walked from the blistering heat into the foyer of the decaying theatre Corrie was dimly aware that her hands and feet had turned to four blocks of ice, but despite how petrified she felt inside she knew, that had Felicity said they could turn back now she wouldn’t have. Already she was starting to feel the excitement of drawing close to a major movie set, and as Felicity had pointed out herself, this was probably the only chance she was ever going to get to see Cristos again.

They came to a stop at the back of what had once been the auditorium. Now there was only a stage to say it had been a theatre in another life. An army of technicians were at work on it, rigging lights, a camera, microphones and all sorts of things Corrie didn’t recognize. Everyone else was wandering about the space where there had once been audience seating, stepping over the tracks that were being laid, or huddled in groups having hair and make-up retouched. The actors were easy to spot, since they were wearing a spectacular variety of outlandish costumes; there were so many that Corrie guessed most must be walk-ons. The noise level was high as the crew rushed about shouting to make themselves heard above the hammering, sawing and drilling on the stage, then a voice yelled above the din to keep it down.

Corrie’s eyes moved steadily through the crowd, and she very nearly jumped when she recognized David Easton,
pacing
up and down one wall of the theatre, seemingly muttering to himself.

She nudged Felicity who was still scanning the room for Carl, and nodded towards Easton.

‘Bit short for us,’ Felicity whispered, ‘but he’s kinda cute, don’t you think?’

‘He’s talking to himself.’

‘Rehearsing,’ Felicity corrected. ‘The guy with him is probably his dialogue coach.’ She stood aside for two props men to pass with a towering alabaster statue. ‘There’s obviously a major re-set going on,’ she added, ‘but the fact that all the actors are inside must mean they can’t be far off a take.’

Corrie nodded, and started once again to search the semi-darkness. It was some minutes later, when a tightly knit group over on the left seemed to dissolve, that her heart turned over so violently she thought it might have torn itself from the roots.

He had his back turned, but she’d have known it was him without having to see his name written on the back of the chair. It was a tall canvas chair, and he was balanced precariously against it, his legs, crossed at the ankles, stretched out in front of him, and his arms folded. For a moment Corrie felt so lightheaded it was as though she was dreaming. The strangeness of the lights, the heavily-painted faces and surging mass of people seemed like surreal, intangible obstacles put there to prevent her from reaching him. She could almost feel herself pushing through them, searching the glittering bodies, shrinking from the dazzling lamps, drowning in the noise. She was starting to smile to herself, imagining him coming to find her, when suddenly a walkie-talkie crackled on the hip of someone passing her and a voice yelled over it,

‘Cut the crap, Brown! I’m coming up there to see for myself.’

In any other situation the coincidence might have struck
Corrie
as funny, hilarious even, but in this instance the shock of hearing her own name like that brought her thundering back to reality.

‘OK, let’s go,’ she hissed to Felicity. ‘I’ve seen him, so let’s go now.’

Felicity only laughed, and it didn’t take long for Corrie to realize how absurd she was being, and finding herself laughing too she turned back to look at him again. He appeared to be wearing the same tatty jeans he’d worn in London, and a white T-shirt with
Past Lives Present
emblazoned across the back. His hair was just as untidy as it was before, though it seemed longer and blacker against the white of his T-shirt. She could see the powerful muscles in his arms as he rested his hands on his hips, then he turned his head to one side giving her a profile of his darkly rugged features.

‘It’s so humbling, isn’t it?’ she whispered to Felicity. ‘I mean, to think that he’s in charge of all this, that it’s because of him …’

‘Corrie,’ Felicity warned. ‘He’s a director, not a god, remember?’

But to Corrie, he felt like a god. He was standing now, and she watched, mesmerized, as with his head tilted to one side, he listened intently to one of the actors standing in front of him. After a while he started to speak himself, then reaching out for an actress he took her into his arms, still speaking over his shoulder to the actor. Then he proceeded to demonstrate to the actor precisely what he wanted. A hot jealousy flared through Corrie as he lifted the actress right up into his arms, pressing his mouth to hers, and slowly rotating. Every now and again he stopped to give notes to the actress – everyone was hanging on his every word and there was a tension about the group that seemed to begin and end with him. She had never seen a director of his stature at work before, and now, witnessing the spell he seemed to weave over everyone around him,
she
felt gauche and parochial. He belonged to another world and that she, Corrie Browne from Amberside, should have the audacity to fantasize about him, to have actually come here today hoping to … No, she couldn’t bear to think about it.

At last he put the actress down and Corrie noticed immediately how flushed she was. Cristos’s attention however was back with the actor who was now preparing to emulate Cristos’s performance. After a short discussion Cristos backed away and the actor moved in. Cristos’s concentration was total as he watched them, and so too was Corrie’s as she watched him. Finally, the actors broke apart and Cristos was laughing and applauding. It was only then that Corrie realized how aroused she had become.

‘Look at you!’ Felicity laughed. ‘You look like you’re about to wet your knickers.’

‘I think I already have,’ Corrie confessed with a grin. ‘Felicity, I honestly didn’t know anyone could feel this way just looking at a man. He did it to me before you know, in London, and he’s bloody well doing it again … And with all these people around! I really think I ought to go before I do something rash.’

But even if she’d meant it, which she didn’t, it was already too late, for, recognizing Luke, Jeannie, Cristos’s assistant, was on her way over to say hello, at the very point that Carl materialized and swept Felicity into the crowd.

Corrie stood alone, not sure what to do. She wondered if Luke might introduce her to the woman he was talking to, and decided that she would break her silence with him if he did, because she was feeling exceedingly awkward just standing here like this. She stole another glance at Cristos, and to her profound alarm, found he was looking in her direction. He looked away, apparently not recognizing her and Corrie was able to breathe again.

‘Hi.’

She looked up to see the woman who’d been speaking to Luke was holding out her hand.

‘I’m Jeannie, Cristos’s PA,’ she smiled, as Corrie took the hand. ‘You’re over from London, I hear?’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ Corrie answered, wondering just how personal an assistant this Jeannie was. ‘I’m Corrie, by the way. A researcher with Luke’s company.’

‘Producer,’ Luke corrected her. ‘She was just promoted,’ he explained to Jeannie.

‘Well, congratulations,’ Jeannie said. ‘So, what do you think of LA, Corrie?’

‘Um, uh, well, shall we just say it’s not what I expected,’ Corrie answered.

‘Don’t worry, I hate it myself,’ Jeannie laughed. ‘You off somewhere, Luke?’

‘The little boys’ room,’ he grinned.

Jeannie turned back to Corrie and Corrie smiled. ‘If you hate it here, then why do you live here?’ she asked.

Jeannie shrugged. ‘I guess I’m married to it. That’s my husband up there on the stage giving the effects boys a hard time. He’s the DP.’

‘DP?’

‘Director of Photography,’ Jeannie explained. ‘He always works with Cristos, that was how I came to get my job.’

‘I see.’ Corrie was much happier now she’d got that straight. ‘What are the effects for?’ she asked.

‘A love scene, would you credit? One of Cristos’s crazy arty shots that always work – almost always, anyhow.’

‘What’s the film actually about?’ Corrie asked.

‘Oh shit!’ Jeannie laughed. ‘That’s one hell of a question. In a nutshell, it’s this woman who lived all these lives before. It’s a true story, she wrote a book about it. Anyway, her past lives keep cropping up in her present life, there you have the title. I met her, Muriel Bond, the author, oh, ages ago now, she blew my mind. She knows things like you just wouldn’t credit. She’s been checked out by the
historians
over there at Oxford, all over the world in fact, and she’s ended up explaining things to them they didn’t even know. It’s kinda like she can see someone here, today, but she knows who they were before. Only if she knew them before though. And it’s like all the things that didn’t get resolved in one life, start getting resolved in the next one, and the next and so on … For instance, she was some English Countess in one life, back in the seventeenth century, fell in love with this cute Italian soldier, but she was already married. She knew everyone who was anyone in Britain at that time, you just gotta read what she writes about it! Anyway, in the next life her and her soldier, and other people they knew too, were all Italian, but still those two couldn’t be together. The second unit’s going over to Italy to shoot that stuff in a couple of weeks. Anyhow, after that life they turn up on the Jarrow march, you know, back in the thirties over there in l’il ol’ England, and they get married and go live in the west of the country where they meet all these people they knew before and all these incredible things start happening. The main unit’s going to England for that. Anyway, he’s dead now, the soldier, her husband, and Muriel Bond lives in New Hampshire …’ Jeannie shrugged, ‘It doesn’t sound too convincing the way I tell it, but boy, if you met her …’

‘And what’s this scene all about, that you’re setting up for now?’

‘It’s supposed to be in an opera house, back in the seventeenth century. You see David Easton over there, he’s the soldier, I guess that’s kind of obvious from his costume. Anyway, Paige Spencer is playing the part of Muriel Bond, Paige is over there somewhere … Looks like she’s disappeared … Anyway, the man Paige, Muriel, was married to in the seventeenth century, the count, loved the opera. In this scene, he’s in one of the boxes with his wife watching John Blow’s
Venus and Adonis
– we shot that this morning so the box has been struck now – when he gets
kind
of passionate and starts kissing her. And as she’s kissing him she starts thinking about her lover, and all the people on the stage are watching her, and then she finds herself in the middle of the stage with her husband and then with her lover, and everyone’s dancing around them. Then she’s like flying and all the walls cave in – it’s kind of difficult to explain, Cristos does it better in the script. Take a look if you like.’