The Perfect Location (22 page)

She shook her head, trying not to laugh.

Walking around her again, as if inspecting her, he undid the straps of her bikini top. ‘I don’t like these on a woman. They should be covered from head to toe if possible.’

The top fell down over her stomach. He undid the back clasp and the top fell to the ground.

Rose felt her nipples become erect and her skin was beginning to rise in goosebumps, not from cold but from desire. She reached around to grab his cock but he stepped back from her. ‘Right, that’s what you want, is it? Well, let me tell you, Ms Nightingale, you will get what you deserve but only when I give the order, okay?’

He said this in her ear very quietly but firmly. Rose’s knees were weak from lust and she was trying not to laugh. He undid the side of her bikini bottoms with both hands and they fell.

Walking back to her front he pointed at the bath. ‘Get in, please,’ he commanded.

Rose did as he asked and stood in the bath. ‘Sit down and start washing yourself.’ Rose picked up the washer and rubbed it over her arms and breasts, looking at him.

‘Well, I can see you have no idea how to wash yourself. I will just have to do that, I suppose.’

Stripping off his wet things, he got into the bath, his erection standing to attention in front of him. Rose sat waiting. He took the flannel and poured a liberal dose of oil onto it and started to rub her body. He washed her all over, using the hand-held tap to wash her hair. Rubbing her breasts – they were slippery and full in his hands – he looked her in the eyes. ‘Kiss me,’ he commanded.

Rose kissed him passionately, Never had she been this turned on before. He rubbed her nipples between his fingers. ‘Fuck me,’ he ordered and Rose climbed onto his lap and felt him slip into her. Their bodies, oiled and warm came together in perfect harmony. She thrust herself against him. ‘Harder, Ms Nightingale, I want to know you mean it,’ he whispered in her ear. Rose rode him as hard as she could, her breasts bouncing against his chest, her warm flesh enveloping his cock. ‘Very good, very good, you are becoming cleaner by the minute,’ said Max, his voice breaking.

‘Oh, shut up,’ said Rose, and together they climaxed.

Lying back in his arms, she laughed about his role. ‘What was that exactly?’ she asked.

‘What do you mean? The accent?’ he said.

‘Yes,
Dad’s Army
or Mrs Slocombe from
Are You Being Served
?’

Max laughed uproariously. ‘You are a very naughty little girl, Ms Nightingale,’ he said and slid under the water.

Remembering Max now made Rose want to cry. Why was her life so complicated, she wondered. All she ever wanted was to do some acting and have some children. Now she had a glittering career and no life. Max’s arrival had made her realize how truly lonely she was.

It was the last day on set.

Sapphira had sent everyone on the set a rare bottle of vodka with their names engraved on it. Rose had sent a huge basket of Tuscan food items to the crew that she had hand picked with Lucia and Calypso had handwritten everyone cards with personal details about how they helped her and how important they were. Of all the gifts, Calypso’s was the most sincere. She had taken the time to know her crew and had touched on each of their skills to make them feel important in the process of making the film.

Rose and Sapphira worked well together on set, both consummate professionals. Sapphira had learned so much from Rose through the filming, about text and language and objectives.

‘You have to have an idea of what your objective is for the scene but also what your super objective is as the character,’ said Rose to Sapphira at lunchtime as they ate. Well, as Rose ate and Sapphira drank coffee. ‘You know, what the big goal is in her life.’

Sapphira nodded. She finally understood, she knew what the super objective was for her own life for the first time and she had Jack to support her.

Sapphira had changed over time and Rose found her warmer and less distant. Rose had heard about the intrusion into her home and was concerned for her. ‘Are you sure you’re okay? You’re welcome at my place if you want,’ said Rose, hopeful for the company.

‘Thanks, but Jack is with me still. He stayed on and then I’m going to stay with him in Venice for a while.’

Rose was surprised but didn’t let herself show it. Sapphira and Jack together seemed right and wrong at the same time, she thought. Jack had always dated below himself on the celebrity scale and Sapphira was his equal, perhaps even further up than him.

‘That’s good,’ she said, meaning it. ‘Jack is one of the nicest men I know.’

Sapphira smiled. ‘I believe you could be right.’

Heading into make-up for a scene change, Sapphira saw Calypso already in the chair. ‘Hi,’ she said as she sat down.

She was pleased Calypso was clearly doing so well and her affair with TG was obviously healing all sorts of wounds. Calypso responded. ‘Oh my God! I so need to talk to you.’

Sapphira was nervous. Did she know about Raphael? ‘What about?’ she asked on alert.

‘Well, I had a dream about you.’

‘Really?’ asked Sapphira, intrigued.

‘Yes, I dreamed you were an angel and you came and told me everything would be all right. You said you could take care of things for me. How weird is that? And then the next day everything started falling into place for me. Funny, huh? Maybe you have hidden wings that we mere mortals cannot see.’

Sapphira laughed. ‘You’ve busted me,’ she said and pulled down her shirt to show Calypso the pair of angel wings tattooed on her back.

‘I love it!’ clapped Calypso. ‘TG has one of a mermaid he got before he even met me. How weird is that, Kelly?’

Kelly listened as she did her work on both women, with her assistant standing by, helping when required.

‘Hmmm … maybe, but not super weird,’ said Kelly absently.

Sapphira looked at Kelly. Nothing fazed that woman, she thought. She was like the Buddha incarnate.

‘I’m so happy that I’m annoying myself. For real, I’m making myself sick being around me,’ said Calypso seriously.

Kelly and Sapphira laughed at her joy.

‘Told you so,’ said Sapphira.

Kelly hoped it wasn’t short-lived. TG and Calypso belonged together; she was sure of it. Not that she was going to say anything. If she had learned anything, it was to shut your trap until asked otherwise, Buddha or no Buddha.

On the last night of filming, there was a cast and crew party, with everyone in attendance apart from Max who had flown to London to get the boys back to school. Calypso had thrown herself into the party planning with Giulia, turning the courtyard into another room in the villa. Bringing most of the furniture outside, the walls were draped in red velvet and ivy. The candles were spread about the space, creating a gothic feel. The rococo and Louis IV furniture was arranged conversationally and there were paintings hung on the walls, and huge bowls of fruits, looking like still lifes. Birdcages, with religious candles hung, strung across the open roof of the courtyard. The wait staff were all dressed in black, with red velvet masks and the theme on the invitation read ‘gothic masquerade’.

Sapphira arrived with Jack, wearing a black silk, full-length dress with long sleeves and a high neck. The back of the dress was cut down to her buttocks, showing off the angel wing tattoos on her back. She wore her hair long and straight, with heavy eye make-up and red lips. Jack wore a straightjacket and a Hannibal Lecter mask. ‘Come on, Morticia,’ he said as he hustled her out the door.

‘Fuck you, Hannibal,’ she said cheerfully.

Since she had made her decision to go to Venice with him and try to kick her habit, she and Jack were closer than ever. ‘Such a shame you’re gay,’ she said as he got into the car.

‘Well, for you maybe, but I’m fine with it,’ he quipped.

‘I’m sure you are,’ she laughed.

‘There are plenty more straight fish in the sea, doll. Stick around, you never know who might hang themselves off your line,’ Jack said as he drove out the gates, the security guards waving at them.

‘I’m not looking for anyone,’ said Sapphira as she peered into the darkness from the car.

‘Well, that’s the best way to be. Don’t look and they will come and bite your line,’ said Jack, speeding through the winding roads towards TG’s villa.

‘No, really, I don’t care at all. I know women say that, but I mean it. I’ve never had a significant relationship and I’ve yet to meet a man who can keep up with me or who I could share my secrets with. Till you,’ she added.

‘So the father of your baby?’ asked Jack. ‘Where is he now?’

‘I have no idea. I rang him when I found out and left him a message but he never called me back. Probably got shit scared and ran away. I’ve never heard from him again,’ she said without emotion. ‘She would be seven now. I wonder what my life would have been like with her. No drugs, no films maybe? I don’t know.’

Jack pulled into the driveway. ‘No looking back, okay? You’re here now, we are here together and I am going to get drunk.’

Pulling on his mask and costume, he jumped out of the car and opened the door. Sapphira slipped her hand through his arm, tied back in the costumed straightjacket, and they walked into the party.

Rose came to the party by herself, dressed as Ophelia from Hamlet. ‘She suits my mood,’ she explained to Kelly, who was dressed as a gypsy. ‘I feel like I’m going mad since Max left. It’s crazy, how can someone get under your skin so quickly? Maybe I’m in love with the boys too much. I keep thinking about them, my thoughts going around in circles.’

Kelly touched her arm, which was wildly waving a glass of white wine around. ‘Why don’t you go and see him, see if it still works in the real world and not in the heady heat of Italy?’

‘Nah, it was just a fling. A summer romance,’ she said dramatically.

‘You sure? Maybe you just need to think about what you want, what you really, really want. I would tell you to meditate on it but then you might throw wine at me.’

Rose laughed. ‘Too fucking right I would.’ She held her wine glass up to Kelly in a mock throw.

Calypso came towards them dressed as a mermaid, with shells strung in her hair and a divine jewelled bra top, courtesy of the costume department, and a skintight shot silk skirt in sea green with white organza around the bottom, kicking out when she walked, like the foam on the ocean waves.

Barefoot and brown from the sun, TG thought she had never looked more gorgeous. He was dressed as Johnny Rotten, much to Calypso’s amusement.

The party went on well into the morning, and with the arrival of Sapphira’s promised case of vodka, the guests danced till 4.00 am, when TG kicked them out.

‘We did very well, I think. If things in LA don’t work for us, then party planning could be the next career option,’ TG said as he wiped off the make-up Calypso had applied.

‘It was great, huh? Everyone had a good time. How funny was Chris dancing to the Britney medley! He’s hilarious.’

TG laughed. ‘I think we should have more parties when we get back to LA.’

‘Your place or mine?’ she asked as she brushed her teeth.

‘Let’s wait and see,’ he answered, as they fell into bed.

Calypso was awoken at 6.00 am by her phone vibrating on the bedside table. Answering it, she heard Greg, her agent in LA. ‘Hey, Greg. Do you know what time it is here? We had the party last night. I’ve gotta go to sleep. Can this wait?’

‘No, Calypso, I have to talk to you. There’s a problem here and I need you to know before it gets out. If it gets out,’ he added.

‘What? What’s happened?’ Calypso sat up in bed, waking TG, who sat up next to her.

‘Well, it’s kind of hard to say,’ said Greg nervously on the phone. Shit, he had not been primed for breaking this kind of news, he thought.

‘What, Greg? For fuck’s sake, I am freaking out here, just tell me.’

‘When can you get back?’ he asked.

‘Tomorrow, I can leave tomorrow. What is it? I will freak out all the way back on the plane. Just tell me.’

‘You remember the director, Jerry Hyman, you did that film with him when you were a kid?’

‘Yeah, I remember. What about him?’

‘He’s been arrested for rape. He’s been taping women during sex, some of them unconscious after accepting a drink laced with some “roofies” apparently. Some of them were consensual though.’

‘So, why do I care about him? I never spent any time with him, I just was cast and went on set. I remember he was an asshole, but that’s all. There won’t be a tape of me, I’m sure of that. Don’t worry, Greg,’ she said as TG rubbed her back.

‘It’s not you, Calypso. A package turned up this morning in my office. It’s a DVD … of your mother and Jerry.’

‘Was she unconscious?’ said Calypso, her heart in her throat.

‘No. Wide awake, I’m afraid, and giving head to Jerry. It’s grainy but looks like her. In the package there’s a note saying unless you pay two million dollars then they’re going to release it to all media outlets.’

‘Fuck!’ said Calypso.

The Italian dream was over.

Sapphira arrived in Venice two days after filming stopped. She sent her agent and manager an email, saying she was unwell and would not be returning to LA anytime soon. She cancelled all meetings, leaving her representatives to get her out of the next film she was scheduled to do. Sure, there would be a shit storm but she was committed to kick her habit and, for the first time in her life, she had support.

Jack’s friendship was the most important relationship she had ever experienced and she was not going to let him down, she promised herself. He had been on the phone constantly since she had spoken to him about trying to detox. Speaking Italian and English, she had tried not to listen to his one-sided conversations. She didn’t want to know what he had planned; if she did, then she was afraid she would lose her courage.

Flying into Venice, Sapphira had been warned by Jack’s assistant that the press would be there. Photos of them were hot property now; any opportunity was seized by the relentless pariahs and their cameras. Jack’s plans were intricate, including hiring doppelgängers of them both and paying them handsomely, with ironclad confidentiality agreements to leave his villa the next day in the daylight and fly to Spain, Switzerland and France for several days and then lose the paps, hopefully, sending them on a wild goose chase.