The Perfect Location (44 page)

They nodded their agreement.

‘Ac-
tion
’.

Rose threw herself at the soldier, ‘Don’t go!’, she pleaded, ‘I fear I shall never see you again’. The actor looked at her standing in front of him, her wet dress clutching at her figure, her nipples erect and the tears in her eyes. He felt a stirring in his groin. He took her in his arms. ‘We have now’ he whispered huskily to her mouth. Her lifted her up and kissed her with such intensity that Rose’s longing for human touch sprung to life. She wasn’t alone. His erect penis crushed against her pelvis and she found herself reaching around with the hand that was not visible to the camera to hold it and touch it gently. He gasped in pleasure as he lowered her to the floor of the woods. They knew what to do, the director had talked them through what he wanted to see and where to lie as they said their lines.

As the cameras rolled, they said every line while experiencing the closest pleasure next to intercourse that they could with their clothes on. It was intense and the crew was mesmerized.

‘Cut!’ yelled the director.

‘Now that’s acting,’ he called, without a trace of irony, as he stomped over to watch the playback. Rose and the actor lay on the wet ground under the moonlight, trying to catch their breath.

Oh God
, she thought,
I’m losing it. How am I going to get through the rest of this shoot? He must think I am a whore …

She got up quickly ignoring his questioning stare, rushing to her trailer, saying she was cold.

As she left the set that night, he winked at her and she felt herself blush from top to toe.

As horrifyingly embarrassing as all of this was, Rose felt more alive than she had in years. Any memory of Paul or guilt was in the recesses of her mind as she showered. One of the strangest parts of all of this was that she’d just started anti-depressant medication, thinking the failed relationship with Paul was due to her own issues. The Doctor had warned her that her libido would shrink with the medication. But after the love scene in the woods, she had come alive again.

Back at her Hotel, she stood in front of the mirror in her bathroom, assessing her figure. At thirty-two, her body was still toned and breasts still high. She was a little thin from her recent hospital stay but not abnormally so. Her green eyes were clear and her long brunette locks shone and swung down by her shoulders. Her porcelain English skin was clear and glowing. She looked the best she had in years and she knew it. Why should she waste these years with Paul?

She wanted to be loved, she wanted to be adored and touched. Running her hand over her breasts, she saw her nipples become pink and erect. Letting her hand wander down her body she tried to touch her self. Rose had never masturbated. There was something about the act that made her feel dirty and unsure. Sex had not been talked about in her house as a child, instead it was books, writers and art. Sometimes she heard grunting from her parent’s room, mostly from her father, and she would put the pillow over her head and try to ignore it.

Hearing a knock at her hotel door, Rose pulled on a dressing gown. For a brief moment when she saw the South African actor there in front of her she wondered if she should shut it again. Rose had never cheated on Paul. She stood and stared at him, debating, wondering, when she heard footsteps on the stairs at the end of the hallway. Quickly she ushered him in. She did not want to be found like this. As she pulled him inside he spun her round and threw her hands up against the door and smothered her protests with his mouth.

Rose felt herself melting into his arms. His masculinity was enough to make her wet with anticipation. He felt under her silk dressing gown, probing her with his fingers, until she moaned and struggled to undo his jeans. Wearing nothing underneath, his erect cock stood at full attention. He paused and looked into Rose’s eyes, waiting for her approval. She grabbed his cock and tried to put it inside herself. She was desperate and animalistic. He laughed gently and took her standing up with her back to the door. Rose could hear the crew walking and laughing up the hallway after a night on the Juniper vodka.

Rose came quickly and with such intensity that her co-star joined her, turned on by her passion and desire. Pulling out of her they stood and stared at each other, breathing quickly. Weak at the knees and dizzy from lack of air, Rose felt herself falling to the floor. Catching her in his strong arms, he lifted her over to the bed, drawing back the covers with one hand, placing her down carefully.

Covering her up again with the warm quilt, he kissed her on the forehead. Her eyes filled with tears at his tenderness and she felt like a child. How could she move from woman to child in the space of five minutes? He left the room and Rose lay and thought about what had just happened. No words just bodies.

So far her sexual experience consisted of her longtime boyfriend at University and Paul. Her boyfriend had been sweet but it was fumbling and awkward and usually when they were drunk. Sex with Paul was detached and antiseptic. Rose was always hopeful that this would change and that the passion in the bedroom would one day match the passion he showed her in his charm offensive. But once he decided he should only have sex with her once a month at the most, Rose stopped hoping and began to think sex was clearly overrated.

That night Rose cried. She cried for the last nine years of being alone in a marriage, she cried for the baby she had not yet had, she cried for her long lost passion and the realization that there was nothing wrong with her. One intense orgasm had allowed her to let go in one night of all that her therapist had been trying to get her to release for the past five years.

What followed on-set was some of the best acting of Rose’s film career. The camera captured the glow in her cheeks the brightness of her eyes and the beauty of her mouth. What once were termed ‘cold’ now appeared gilded, like a goddess.

Rose worked with the actor to get his lines right. He was not the greatest actor, but he worked hard and his sheer beauty and handsomeness made him accessible to men and women. She helped him understand motivation and timing, playing with the right reaction until he felt comfortable. Together they were formidable on screen and in the bed.

Rose knew she was not in love, so did he, but they enjoyed each other immensely. Once, when they had some rare time off, they hired a small car and explored the villages and visited many of the historical wooden churches in the region. Rose understood the Carpathian history and art from her days at University and told the stories in such a way, that the South African received a history lesson along the way. As well as lovers, they were also friends and Rose was the happiest she had been in a long time. She planned to file for divorce as soon as she returned to America. There was a life waiting for her and she was going to find it on her own.

But there was no time for Rose to file for divorce, Paul took those honors when he and the rest of the world saw the series of photos an American tourist took of her and the South African having dinner in Poland towards the end of the shoot.

Her lovely actor had just presented her with a rare silver painted antique icon, which she had admired at an antique store in the Bieszczady, near where they were filming. It was exquisite and the mere gesture bought Rose to tears. It had been forever since someone had listened to her and had thought of her. The presents Paul gave her were cold and lifeless and not to her taste at all. Hollywood diamonds and once, a new top of the range Mercedes. There was nothing romantic about a car, Rose thought at the time, wondering where he got a bow that big.

Rose grabbed her actor by the face and kissed him long and hard.

‘Thank you for bringing me back to life’ she whispered. He smiled and blushed. She had helped him also and he was grateful. His agent said that this would be the film to send him to the next level and he knew he had Rose to thank for that and what the hell, she was a great fuck and they had had fun. He was unsure of her tears but happy he had made her so pleased. He was simple like that, that’s why he became an actor. He wanted to make people happy. To him, none of it was complicated, he was satisfied with his life and so far it had exceeded his expectations.

He ran his hand up Rose’s leg and gently caressed the soft skin of her inside thigh. She threw her head back in ecstasy and moaned. They left the restaurant unaware that their soft porn display had just been caught on a Motorola and swiftly emailed to the trashiest of trash mags.

As filming drew to a close, so did Rose and Paul’s marriage. But instead of ruining her career the scandal enhanced it. Finally, the cold English Rose was seen as a sexual being. Rose’s agent was inundated with new scripts for her and when the film was released and the industry saw the raw passion and talent on screen from Rose, she was launched as a woman to be reckoned with.

Paul dealt with the break up by dating a new starlet from Romania, tipped to be the new Bond girl. Rose knew she was with Paul’s agent, so didn’t believe the relationship, the agency manufactured relationships between their stars all the time. For years the rumours about her and Paul’s were that it was a business deal. Perhaps it was to Paul but it was a real marriage to Rose and even though she was happy to be free, she grieved for what life might have been like all the same.

She and Paul finally faced each other with their lawyers at her lawyer’s plush offices to sign the papers and work out a satisfactory financial deal for each other. Paul had been charming to Rose, friendly and caring, claiming he wanted the best for her and mostly for her to be happy.

Rose sat waiting for the change in him to manifest but Paul kept up the act until the lawyers left them for a moment in the large boardroom.

As the door closed behind them Paul leaned over the table and hissed at her. ‘You will get nothing, you slut. Nothing, you hear me. I am gonna bury you. That affair with that asshole was the final straw, I always knew you couldn’t keep your legs shut.’ Rose sat silently, relieved to see the Paul she knew come back, his act in front of the lawyers was disarming, this Paul she felt she had finally learned to handle.

‘Be very careful Paul,’ she said doing her best Judi Dench voice. ‘I happen to know about you and your South American surgeon or should I say lover. I had my lawyers look into it with a private detective and if I were you, I would stay tuned to Inside Edition to see the highlights of the tape I have in my possession.’

Rose took a punt and it worked. His face was shocked and he visibly paled in front of her. This time Rose hissed across the table. ‘I want only what I deserve after putting up with ten years of your lies, abuse and bullshit. You are the asshole. You didn’t even come and see me in hospital you prick!’ she spat out the words.

‘Paul sat stunned and Rose felt a tiny bit sorry for him.’ Paul if you are gay then just come out. You don’t need any more money. You are beyond wealthy. You are living a lie and you and I know it. ‘If you care about your doctor then tell him, be with him.’ Paul looked up at her, his eyes filled with tears and Rose finally understood why he was like he was, always trying to push down his sexual urges, trying to control what he couldn’t when what he wanted to control was his attraction to men.

Paul went to speak to Rose, ‘Rose, you know …’ his voice was soft, real almost and then the door opened to the board room and the lawyers walked back in.

Paul straightened his posture. ‘Whatever Rose wants guys. She was a good wife and I am sorry it didn’t work out.’ And with that he grabbed the divorce papers on the desk, signed them with his Visconti pen, stood up and walked around to Rose and kissed her cheek softly and left the room. It was the most tender moment of Rose’s marriage that she could remember.

While she couldn’t forgive him, she finally understood.

Six years later, the life Rose had imagined for herself after her divorce had never quite eventuated. She knew this feeling; she had felt it while she was married. It was possible to be married and lonely and now Rose had it again. She had dated on-and-off over the past six years since her divorce but had not yet found the one that made her heart and soul sing.

Scared of venturing into marriage again and losing herself, Rose married her work. Filming back-to-back movies, she had managed to pick herself up an Oscar, a Bafta and an Emmy. Rose was at the top of her game and still went home alone. Her ‘little gold dwarfs’, as she called her statues, lived in her mother’s spare room.

The awards meant nothing but the work kept her mind off the ache of passion unfulfilled. For a while she and the South African actor used to catch up for laughs and sex. She would help him with his lines on whatever new role he was playing but he had managed to find himself a gorgeous wife, whom he met while back in South Africa on a surfing holiday. Part African, part Japanese, she was exactly the earth goddess he needed and she happily followed him from set to set, now with their gorgeous new baby daughter in tow.

When he married, Rose sent him and his new wife a Marc Newson designed nickel-plated surfboard. ‘Functional Art’, she wrote on the card. It had pride of place in the foyer of their beach home.

Rose’s biggest regret was that she had not yet been able to have the baby she longed for. Now, nearing 40, she knew it was close to impossible. She didn’t want to adopt, she wanted the whole nine yards of experiencing pregnancy. She considered having unprotected sex with some of the men she dated but she knew it would be too complicated to share a child with someone she didn’t care about.

Seeing Greta off in the gravel driveway, off to punish some other body paranoid celebrity, she wandered into her house and stared at its perfection. Rose’s decorator had done a sterling job, with Rose’s input of course. Rose liked the clean lines and mix of antiques and modern furniture. Rose treated furniture like art, investing wisely and working closely with her decorator to understand who was who and what was what.

Rose’s house was bought in a moment of sheer optimism when, post divorce from Paul and cashed up, she envisioned a new and wonderful life. It was a huge Cape Cod style house with 5 bedrooms and a huge in-ground pool. Rose fell in love with it when she saw it saying to the agent, ‘I’ll take it, this is the home where I will raise my family.’