Starburst (16 page)

“Mais, c’est vrai!”

“And that’s even nicer.”

Angélique pushed herself away from the window. “I think maybe I have been hiding in here too long,” she said, threading her hand through his arm. “Please, will you take me to meet your wife, Gavin? I would very much like that.”

Gavin placed his hand on hers and gave it a light squeeze, totally captivated by the charm of the young violinist. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”

They had taken no more than a couple of steps towards the function room when Albert Dessuin suddenly appeared and looked along the short corridor towards them. Gavin could see his eyes focus on the hand that was nestled under his arm. “Angélique? What are you doing? Why have you been in here so long? There were so many people whom you should have met, but they have left already.” He spoke his French very fast as if to ensure that Gavin, if he had any knowledge of the language, could not understand what was being said.

“Albert, I have been speaking to Tess and Gavin, who are both new friends of mine,” Angélique replied in English, “and I am now going to be introduced to Gavin’s wife.”

Gavin felt Dessuin’s glare of distrust almost burning into him. “I am sorry, but there is no time,” he replied, this time in English. “Our plans have changed. We are now having dinner with Sir Alasdair Dreyfuss in a restaurant and already he has left. We are to follow immediately in a taxi.”

“Oh, Albert, can I not please first meet Gavin’s wife?”

Gavin noticed her tone had suddenly changed to that of a little girl pleading for a favour.

Dessuin came over and took hold of her free arm. “I am sorry, but we have wasted enough time.” He looked at Gavin, his mouth creasing into a smile that displayed not one ounce of friendship. “I apologize, monsieur. It will have to wait until another time.”

“Of course,” Gavin replied, knowing full well the occasion would never present itself again. Unfolding her hand from his arm, he bent down and gave her a kiss on either cheek. “It’s been my pleasure, Angélique.”

The young violinist looked up at him with a smile. “I hope I might meet your wife another time, Gavin.”

“Please, Angélique, we must go now,” Dessuin said sharply, hustling her away long the corridor.

Gavin watched them as they walked away, his mind filled with two conflicting emotions—how much he liked her, and how much he disliked him. He put his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket and began to walk slowly back to the function room. Just at that point, Angélique appeared again.

“Two tickets for the concert.” She turned away.
“Albert, je viens!”
She looked back at Gavin. “I shall leave them at the concierge desk. Please come.” She blew him a kiss and disappeared.

As Angélique followed Albert Dessuin across the hotel foyer, she stopped momentarily to put down her handbag on the floor and shrug on her jacket. She watched Dessuin forcefully push the heavy glass door open, nearly knocking off balance a small elderly man who was about to enter. She let out a gasp at Albert’s total lack of manners and ran towards the door just as the man entered, looking visibly shaken.

“I am so sorry,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, thank you very much,” the man replied with a nod, but Angélique could tell from his ashen face the incident had given him a tremendous shock. He smiled distractedly at her and hurried off towards the concierge desk.

Angélique pushed open the door and ran down the steps to where Albert was standing, hands on hips, on the pavement. “Albert, why did you do that just then?” she said fiercely. “You could have seriously injured that old man.”

“Oh, never mind about him. Look at this problem we have now!” he exclaimed, throwing up his hands in frustration. The taxi that had been waiting for them was completely hemmed in by two large white vans, one of which had the name “CinElectrics” emblazoned on its side.

Dessuin stepped off the pavement in front of the taxi and hammered his fist on the window of one of the vans. The young driver, who was speaking on a mobile phone, slowly lowered the window.

“What’s up, friend?” he asked.

“Could you please move your van? You are blocking in our taxi.”

“Hang on a minute,” the driver said, holding up his hand to stop Dessuin’s protest. “Okay, so that’s final, is it?” he said into the mobile. “You definitely want us to head back to London tomorrow with all the gear…all right, if that’s the order.” He let out a long sigh and jabbed angrily at the button on the phone to end the call. “Bugger this for a larf.” He tossed the phone onto the dashboard and turned to Dessuin. “Sorry about that, mate. We’ll get out of your way now.”

H
aving been watching the departure from the hotel of the famous violinist, Angélique Pascal, the young female receptionist had also witnessed the incident at the entrance door. She made a move to go around the front desk to check on the well-being of the elderly man, but then stayed where she was when she realized he was fast approaching her.

“Are you all right, sir?” she asked concernedly, seeing his obvious agitation.

“Yes, I’m quite well, thank you,” the man replied, casting an eye around the hotel lobby. “I wonder if you could tell me where I might find a telephone.”

“Certainly, sir, there’s a payphone in the corner over there,” she replied, pointing to a glass door beside the lifts, “or might I ask if you are staying in the hotel?”

“Yes, I am. Hartson, room 215.”

“Ah, Mr. Hartson, a gentleman has been trying to contact you quite urgently.” She turned and took an envelope from one of the cubbyholes at the back of the desk. “No message was left, but he asked that you ring this number as soon as you returned to the hotel. I was going to suggest you might like to use the telephone in the seating area over there and I’ll just add it to your bill.”

“Yes, that would be the best idea,” Leonard Hartson replied absently as he moved away from the desk without acknowledging the girl’s kindly aid. He made his way across the lobby to the seating area and pulled the chair away from the small telephone desk. Taking a spectacle case from the pocket of his tweed jacket, he placed it on the desk along with the envelope and sat down, and once he had flustered over both for a moment, he drew the telephone towards him and dialled the number.

“Good evening, Springtime Productions,” a female voice replied immediately.

“I would like to speak to Nick Springer, please.”

“Who’s calling, please?”

“Leonard Hartson.”

“Oh, Mr. Hartson, we’ve been trying to get in touch with you all day. Hold the line and I’ll put you straight through to Nick.”

Leonard took off his spectacles, folded them in one hand and put them back in the case.

“Hullo, Leonard?” It was Nick’s voice.

Leonard sat forward in his chair. “Nick, there seems to be a great deal of confusion up here. Have you any idea what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Leonard, I have tried to get in touch. It’s a pity you don’t have a mobile phone.”

“Well, I don’t because I’ve never had need of one, so please tell me now what’s happening.”

“This is all very difficult, Leonard. I know how much of a disappointment it’s going to be to you.”

Leonard slumped back in the chair and pressed his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes. “So it’s true, then. You are recalling all the equipment.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“For what reasons, Nick?”

“I had an e-mail today from the Japanese broadcast company that commissioned the film. It was pretty abrupt, to be quite honest, but the gist of it was that they’re presently shedding jobs like crazy and a freeze has been put on all recently commissioned works, and, unfortunately, your job just happens to be one of them.”

“Oh, my word,” Leonard said, pressing a hand to his brow. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“The dance company will obviously still be performing at the festival, but I’d never be able to find another broadcast company to take on the commission at such short notice. That’s really why we’ve got to cut our losses now and get the equipment back to London as soon as possible.”

“Nothing more to be done, then,” Leonard murmured despondently.

“I’m afraid not. I really am sorry about this, Leonard. I know how much you were looking forward to doing this job.”

“Not your fault, Nick.”

“Listen, the boys are heading back tomorrow with the vans, but there’s no reason for you to return straightaway. Why not stay up there for a day or two and go to some concerts or whatever, and I’ll foot your hotel bill? That’s the least I can do.”

“No. I think I’ll just catch the train tomorrow morning and get back home.”

“All right. I quite understand.”

“It would have been a wonderful film to make, Nick, and I can’t thank you enough for entrusting it to me.”

“Believe me, if there was anything I could do at this stage to continue with the project, then I would, but I really can’t think of anything.”

“I know, and I appreciate that.”

“Keep in touch, and I promise I’ll call in to see you next time I’m on my way down the A3.”

“You do that, Nick. Look after yourself.”

“And you do likewise, Leonard.”

The old cameraman reached forward and put down the telephone. He sat for a moment staring at the wall in front of him, and then, with a tired sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and made his way slowly back to the reception desk.

“All right, sir?” the young receptionist asked him with a smile. “Did you manage to contact the gentleman?”

“Yes, thank you, I did. I’m afraid I’m going to be booking out of the hotel tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, sir.” She looked down at her computer monitor and typed quickly on the keyboard. “Your bill is going directly to Springtime Productions, so there’ll be no need to settle up on anything in the morning.”

“Right, well, thank you for all your help, and I’m sorry if I appeared a bit distracted before.”

The girl laughed. “It’s a pretty crazy time for us all right now in Edinburgh, so there’s absolutely no need to apologize. We all get caught up a little in the excitement of the occasion.”

“I suppose so,” Leonard replied resignedly. “Well, I’m off to my room now, so I’ll bid you goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sir, and I hope we have the pleasure of having you to stay with us again very soon.”

Leonard emptied out the pockets of his tweed jacket and placed everything on the dressing table alongside the key card to his bedroom. He shrugged off the jacket, slipped it onto a hanger and put it in the wardrobe, and as he made his way across to the bed, he loosened the knot on his woollen tie and undid the top button of his Viyella shirt. He sat down on the edge of the bed and eyed the telephone, wondering how on earth he was going to break the news to Gracie. He himself felt aged with disappointment, so he couldn’t imagine how she, being the one who had encouraged him almost to the point of vehemence to take the job, would react to the news.

He reached out a hand for the telephone, held it hovering above the receiver for a moment as he gathered his thoughts, and then picked it up and dialled the number.

“Hullo?” Grace answered. Even in that one word, Leonard could sense an air of excited expectancy in her voice.

“Gracie, dear, it’s Leonard,” he replied, trying to force light-heartedness into his own voice.

“Oh, I’ve been longing to hear from you, my love. How’s everything going?”

“All right.”

“And has all the equipment arrived safely?”

“Yes, about an hour ago.”

“Oh, how exciting! So when do you think you will start shooting?”

Leonard did not answer, but closed his eyes tight and clenched his fist, banging it up and down repeatedly on his knee.

“Leonard?” Gracie asked quietly, her voice filled with concern. “Is everything all right, dear?”

“We’re not going to be shooting, Gracie,” Leonard replied, his voice suddenly weak with emotion. He cleared his throat to control it. “I’ve just spoken to Nick. The job’s fallen through.”

“What? But why?”

“The funding’s been withdrawn, and he says there’s no time to find it elsewhere.”

“Oh, Leonard, I can’t believe this. Is there nothing that can be done? It all seems such a dreadful waste of time and effort.”

“I know. I had such wonderful ideas as well, about how I was going to film it. With all this new equipment, I was going to take risks I’d never dared to try before. I really do believe, Gracie, that I could have done a wonderful job here.”

“Your definitive film,” Gracie replied in a voice heavy with chagrin.

“Yes, I think it might well have been.”

There was a silence before Grace spoke again. “So what happens now?”

“We’re all returning tomorrow. I should be back home sometime tomorrow evening.”

“And what will happen to us, Leonard?”

Leonard smiled. “Nothing will happen to us, my dear. We will just continue with our lives in gentle retirement, just as we have done for the past seven years.”

“With nothing to look forward to except our eventual demise.”

Leonard let out a surprised laugh. “I don’t think we need to be considering that
just
yet, Gracie.”

“Well, then why don’t you and I take some risks? You were going to do it in the making of the film. Why don’t we do it together?”

“How do you mean?”

“Leonard, we have no children nor grandchildren to bless with an inheritance. We just have each other, and time is running out for both of us.”

“What are you saying?”

“Have you any idea what the budget for this film was?”

“No. Nick never told me, and I would have no idea what the costs are nowadays.”

“More than three hundred thousand pounds?”

“I wouldn’t have thought it would be
that
much. I remember reading about a low-cost feature being made recently for a quarter of a million pounds. This film was only to be a forty-minute documentary, so probably around a hundred thousand.”

“In that case, I think you and I should fund it ourselves.”

“What?”

“Leonard, my dear, when we thought about moving to a smaller house two years ago, the estate agent valued this one at two hundred and seventy thousand pounds. It must now be worth much nearer three hundred thousand. We don’t have a mortgage, so why don’t we just use it as collateral against a loan for the film? If, in the worst scenario, we don’t make any money from it and we lose a hundred thousand pounds, well, then that’s the time we move to a smaller house.”

Leonard held the receiver away from his ear for a moment, staring at it in disbelief at what Gracie had just suggested. He put the receiver back to his ear. “Gracie, my dear, have you gone quite bonkers?”

“No, I have never been more serious in my life, neither have I ever come up with such a sound idea. Leonard, you know yourself that you have rued the very day you gave up work in the film industry, and you were heading into the twilight days of your life feeling dissatisfied and unfulfilled. Living with you over the past few months has been an exhilaration, a complete joy for me. I have seen you returned to me as the man I knew thirty years ago, and I love it, and I love you. If you came back now, everything would change, and with nothing to look forward to, I doubt much time would pass before one of us would just fade away. Leonard, we are only talking about a third of the capital value of the house, but in all honesty I would rather risk losing everything we own than to lose you, the way you are right now.”

Grace’s impassioned monologue brought tears to Leonard’s eyes and he dug into the pocket of his trousers for a handkerchief and gave them a wipe. “Gracie, you truly are a remarkable woman, you know.”

“Shall we do it, then? Shall you and I take the risk?”

“We’ve always been so careful with our finances, Gracie. We’ve never done anything quite so foolhardy in all our lives.”

“Yes, but how rejuvenating for us both it would be.”

Leonard laughed. “Well, in that case, why not? Let’s just cast our fates to the wind.”

“Good, and no regrets, my dear, whatever the outcome. No regrets.”

Leonard pushed the handkerchief back in his pocket. “I’ll give Nick a call now.”

“You do that, and first thing tomorrow morning I’ll go down to the bank and organize the loan.”

“No, don’t do that just yet, Gracie. Let me first find out from Nick how much the film was going to cost and then I’ll see if I can’t work out a way of shaving a bit off the budget. I’ll give you a call tomorrow night.”

“All right, my darling. You get a good night’s sleep now and don’t go mulling it over in your mind. We’ve made the decision, and you will be needing all your energies over the next few weeks for making the most wonderful film.”

“Goodnight, Gracie. I love you, my girl.”

“I know you do.”

Having sat there motionless for five minutes, taking in what he and Gracie had just agreed and trying to work out some of the more immediate logistics, Leonard got to his feet and sought out Nick Springer’s mobile number. He stood, apprehensive, as he dialled it up.

“Hullo, Nick Springer.”

“Nick, it’s Leonard Hartson.”

“Oh, hullo, Leonard. Just give me a moment while I pull the car over.” Leonard heard the rev of an engine and then quiet. “Still there?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, fine. Nick, I wonder if you might be able to tell me what the approximate budget for the film was?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to know.”

“Well, off the top of my head, I think it was about one hundred and fifty thousand pounds, perhaps a bit less.”

“Right. Nick, could you do something for me immediately?”

“Certainly, what?”

“Could you call up both the camera-hire company and CinElectrics and cancel the return of the equipment?”

“What are you saying, Leonard?”

“Gracie and I have decided we’re going to fund the film ourselves.”

“What?”

“We’re going to take out a loan against the value of our house and make the film ourselves. We’ve decided.”

“No, I can’t allow you to do that. You mustn’t.”

“Is there any reason why not?”

“Because…you and Grace can’t put your security at risk like that, Leonard.”

“Yes, we can. Anyway, if you say the full budget is between a hundred and a hundred and fifty thousand pounds, then we would only have to take out a loan on about half the value of the house, and I have a few ideas already on how to reduce the costs still further.”

“By doing what?”

“By sending the electricians and the assistant cameraman back to London. I’ll find someone local to give me a hand. I’ll move out of this hotel, of course, and look for somewhere a little cheaper.”