Golden Fever

The Capstan appeared to be quite busy, but the boy at the door found her a vacant table near the window. The view of the harbour was breathtaking, with ships waiting in line to dock.

Clare had quite a view of Long Beach from the porthole windows in her suite on the other side of the ship, everywhere looking very white and clean from here, the sea a greyish-blue, and several people were out in speedboats when she had last looked out.

A young boy came to take her order, and she looked up and smiled at him, the smile deepening to sympathy as he recognised her and instantly dropped the menu on the floor.

He fumbled picking it up again. ‘I—Sorry.’ He licked his lips nervously. ‘It was just that for a moment you——’ He frowned, shaking his head. ‘You are Clare Anderson, aren’t you?’ he queried disbelievingly.

Maybe she would have been wiser to have eaten in her room after all; she didn’t relish the thought of being on show as she ate. If this boy had recognised her then other people would too.

She didn’t bother to look at the menu, neither confirming nor denying the boy’s statement. ‘Could I have a chicken salad?’ she requested softly, finding the boy’s stares a little unnerving.

‘I’m sure you could,’ he nodded eagerly. ‘Are you here with the others making the movie?’

‘Yes,’ she sighed, realising he wasn’t going to give up.

He nodded again. ‘There are several other people in here that are going to be in it too. I’m David, by the way. If you need anything, just ask.’

‘Thanks, I will.’

She accepted the offered coffee, glad when David at last left. By tonight she was going to be dead on her feet; the time difference would have caught up with her by then, although right now she didn’t feel too bad.

‘Clare!’

She turned with a frown, her tension relaxing as she recognised Rena Dawes. Rena was to play her sister in the film. The two of them had been at drama school together, and Clare had been delighted when she found the two of them were to be working together.

‘How lovely to see you,’ she said warmly. ‘Can you join me?’

‘Of course,’ Rena was a pretty girl of her own age, also blonde, with a mischievous grin never far from the surface. She sat in the chair next to Clare. ‘I was sitting over the other side of the room with some of the camera crew, but their talk got a bit technical for me.’

Clare laughed. ‘It gets too technical for them sometimes!’

Her friend looked at her appreciatively. ‘I don’t have to ask how life’s been treating you—you look marvellous. And where’s that handsome fianc$eA of yours?’

‘Resting. Have you eaten?’

‘Not yet.’

Rena ordered her meal, and the two girls chatted as they ate, recalling old times; the two of them had once shared a flat for a few weeks.

‘Whatever happened to that boy Alan you were always trying to evade?’ Clare teased, relaxed as they drank their coffee.

Rena spluttered with laughter. ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that.’

‘Why?’

‘I married him!’

‘Rena!’ Clare laughed, a low husky sound that had several male heads turning in their direction, obviously appreciatively. ‘Did you really?’ she asked once she had sobered.

‘Mm,’ Rena nodded. ‘I got tired of running.’

‘And?’

Her friend gave a rueful shrug. ‘I love him too much to describe how happy I am, how happy being with him makes me. But then I don’t need to explain that to you, do I?’

Didn’t she? The sadness returned to her golden eyes, the cool haughtier back. She was fond of Harvey, knew that he was equally fond of her, that they would have a good marriage, but they certainly didn’t have the nerve-shattering ecstasy Rena meant. They were comfortable together, shared the same interests, but their lovemaking never gave her such intense pleasure that the rest of the world ceased to exist.

But no, Rena didn’t have to describe those feelings to her. She knew about them, she just didn’t have them with Harvey.

‘Do you have any children?’ she asked now.

‘Not yet,’ Rena grinned. ‘Maybe soon, although we aren’t in any hurry.’

‘Where is Alan now?’

Her friend pulled a face. ‘In England,’ she sighed. ‘He’s a lawyer, a busy one. It gets harder and harder to accept these parts that take me away from him.’

‘Then don’t,’ Clare said simply.

‘It’s this business, it gets into your blood,’ Rena dismissed. ‘One day I’ll know it’s time to stop, but I’m not quite ready yet.’

‘Talking of business,’ Clare looked pointedly at her wrist-watch, ’I’d better go and tidy up for this meeting this afternoon. Jason doesn’t like unpunctuality.’

‘Jason?’ the other girl frowned.

‘Our director, dear,’ she teased.

‘Oh, but he isn’t,’ Rena shook her head. ‘At least, he wasn’t the last I heard.’

Clare frowned her puzzlement. ‘And what did you hear?’

She shrugged. ‘That Faulkner had an accident of some sort, I’m not sure what. They were looking around for another director.’

‘Did they find one?’

‘Well, we’re here, aren’t we?’ Rena grinned.

‘I suppose so,’ Clare agreed slowly.

‘I would have thought they would have told you.’

So would she, which meant she had to talk to Harvey. ‘I’m just going back to my room. I’ll see you later.’

‘Sure.’ Rena stood up, giving a casual wave.

Clare hurried back to Harvey’s room, getting lost a couple of times and having to ask the way, being further delayed as the people she asked recognised her and asked for her autograph.

The feelings of apprehension she had been experiencing since she had accepted the part of Caroline suddenly seemed to loom up black and dangerous. She should never have agreed to come here, should have followed her instinct and stayed far away from Los Angeles.

Harvey took some time to answer the door, and she tapped her shoe impatiently on the floor as she waited. He looked less than his usual immaculate self when he at last opened the door, a robe pulled hastily over his nakedness, his fair hair tousled from sleep.

But Clare cared nothing for this, walking agitatedly into the room and closing the door behind her.

Harvey blinked to clear the sleep from his head. ‘What’s the matter? Shouldn’t you be on your way to the meeting?’

Her mouth twisted. ‘The meeting Jason called—only it wasn’t Jason, was it?’ Her tone was brittle.

‘Oh lord!’ He put a hand to his temple. ‘With the rush of the last few days I forgot to tell you——’

‘Tell me now, Harvey,’ she encouraged sharply.

‘Faulkner had an accident a week or so ago, a fall from a horse, I think. He broke his leg.’

‘So he’s completely out of the picture?’ Clare said with dread.

‘Afraid so,’ her fianc$eA nodded.

‘But I—Who’s replacing him?’ she demanded abruptly.

‘Didn’t I tell you?’ he frowned. ‘No, I don’t suppose I did. Well, it obviously had to be someone who could act as well as direct——’

‘Yes?’ she prompted tensely.

‘They managed to get Rourke Somerville,’ Harvey told her excitedly. ‘A piece of luck really. Normally he wouldn’t have been free, but the film he should have been working on has been delayed several months. I think he …’

Harvey’s voice continued to drone on, but Clare was no longer listening. Rourke … Oh God, Rourke was here, on this very ship, and she was going to be working with him!

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