Barbara Taylor Bradford – Voice of the Heart (страница 24)

With an effort she turned to Victor and said, ‘Are you going to be making a film here?’

He was so startled to hear her voice he temporarily lost his own. He cleared his throat and said, ‘Why, yes, I am.’ She was regarding him with keen interest and her expression was friendly, and so he was encouraged to continue. ‘I’m not only starring in it, but producing it as well. It’s my first time out in charge, so to speak, and I’m looking forward to it. Obviously it’s quite a challenge.’

Katharine, whose eyes had flown to his face when he started to speak, held her breath, not daring to say a word, waiting for him to go on. Her heart was hammering hard in her chest.

Francesca spoke again. ‘Can you tell us about it? Or is it a big secret?’

‘Why sure I can. I’m about to remake the greatest love story ever written in the English language. And I hope it will be as good as the original, which has become something of a classic. I’m doing a remake of Wuthering Heights. We start shooting in two months.’ Victor relaxed in his chair. Now that he was on his own ground he felt more comfortable.

‘Love story!’ Francesca spluttered, staring at Victor in astonishment. ‘But Wuthering Heights isn’t a love story, for God’s sake! It’s a death-obsessed novel about hatred, revenge, brutality and violence. But mostly it’s about revenge. How on earth can you think it’s a love story? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!’

Francesca had spoken with such extraordinary vehemence everyone was startled. Kim looked discomfited. Victor seemed stunned. Katharine’s face had turned the colour of bleached-out bone, and she was seething. Victor might easily be influenced by these comments, especially since they emanated from Francesca. Like so many Americans, he thought anything English was classy and superior, even a little intimidating. And Francesca had sounded so authoritative. Supposing he decided to abandon the project? Damn, she thought, and not trusting herself to utter a civil word, she stared at her plate – and prayed.

Kim found his voice first. ‘Really, Francesca, you’re being a bit strong, aren’t you? And frightfully rude, if you ask me!’ Whenever she had occasion to speak about English literature, her pet subject, she became impossibly opinionated, almost overbearing, as he and his father knew only too well. Kim glared at her, hoping to convey his annoyance.

Francesca swung to face Victor. ‘I do apologize. I really didn’t mean to be rude. Truly I didn’t,’ she said, but a faint hint of defiance flickered in her eyes. ‘However, I’m afraid I can’t apologize for my opinions, particularly since I believe my concept of the book to be correct. And by the way, it is a concept shared by many scholars of English literature, and a number of well-known critics. Of course, there is no denying it is a book of great genius, but nevertheless, it is a paean to death. Emily Brontë was obsessed with death all her life, you know. Anyway, if you don’t want to take my word for it, I will be happy to lend you some books about Emily Brontë and her work, and also some critical studies of Wuthering Heights. Then perhaps you’ll understand it’s not a love story after all. Honestly, it really isn’t. You see, I read English literature, and did a thesis on the Brontë sisters, so I do know what I’m talking about.’

Katharine could not believe her ears, and she desperately wished Francesca would shut up. She could cheerfully strangle her. Didn’t the girl know she was being tactless and inflammatory? For once in her life Katharine was speechless. Her agile, inventive mind raced as she sought a way to smooth the situation over again, to break the deafening silence at the table. Yet unaccountably, she remained at a loss to know what to do or say, and so she picked up her glass and sipped the wine, staring fixedly at the wall opposite, her face stony. Kim fiddled with his fork, poking at the fruit on his plate. Victor continued to frown, musing thoughtfully, and only Francesca appeared tranquil, apparently oblivious to the impact she had made.

However, although Victor was frowning, he was not angry or upset. Oh, the terrible arrogance of the young, he thought. They are so sure. So absolute. So certain they have the answers to everything. He was astute enough to recognize Francesca had not intended to be rude, or to offend. Quite simply, she was too straightforward and too honest a girl not to speak her mind about a subject seemingly of great importance to her. She had been in earnest and had meant every word in all sincerity, without realizing she was being provocative. And she was so very young. ‘You don’t have to apologize to me, and I respect your opinion. In fact, you could be right about the book. But the original movie of Wuthering Heights was made as a love story, and that is the way I aim to film it. I would be foolish not to do so. I just hope I can make as good a picture as Sam Goldwyn did in 1939. He spoke with an assurance that absolutely forbade argument.

‘Oh, I’m sure you will,’ Francesca said hurriedly. In the last few seconds she had noticed Katharine’s stricken face, the panic in her eyes, and Kim’s glowering expression had also registered, and most forcefully. Somehow, and quite unintentionally, she had upset them both, although she was not sure why. Curiously enough, Victor seemed unconcerned.

Francesca lifted her glass. ‘I’d like to make amends for my hasty comments by proposing a toast.’ She smiled weakly at Katharine and Kim, who lifted their glasses silently, still put out with her. ‘To the remaking of Wuthering Heights, and to your success, Victor.’

‘Thank you,’ Victor said and touched his glass to hers.

Wishing to be even more friendly Francesca rushed on, ‘And who is going to play Catherine Earnshaw to your Heathcliff, Victor?’

‘The role hasn’t been cast yet. Naturally every actress worth her salt wants it. But – ‘ He stopped mid-sentence and chuckled. ‘I’m hoping it’s going to be the young lady sitting right here.’ His eyes rested fondly on Katharine. ‘I’ve arranged a screen test for you. And in colour. You’re getting the whole enchilada, honey. And if it’s good I know my partner” will go along with me, and give you the part.’

Katharine was not sure whether she was going to laugh or burst out crying. For a split second she was unable to say anything. She felt the prick of tears behind her eyes. She pushed them back, said in a quavering voice, ‘Oh, Victor! Thank you! Thank you!’ Radiance flooded her face and those matchless eyes shone with excitement. She was thrilled, almost beside herself with happiness. ‘How can I ever repay you?’

‘By making a terrific test, honey.’

Francesca, who was now beginning to understand everything, was again dismayed by her thoughtless remarks. Poor Katharine. No wonder she had been so distressed. She said, ‘You’ll be marvellous in the part, Katharine! You’re absolutely perfect for it. Why it’s made for you, isn’t it, Kim?’

‘Indeed it is.’ Kim’s face was wreathed in smiles. ‘Congratulations!’

Katharine thought she would explode from sheer excitement, and her laughter filled the dining room. ‘Don’t congratulate me yet. I’ve got to do the test first, before I even have a chance of getting the part.’

‘You’ll be perfectly bloody marvellous!’ Kim’s eyes shone with pride in her. ‘This news calls for a toast. Let’s go into the drawing room and have some brandy with our coffee. Come on all of you!’ He pushed back his chair purposefully, stood up and ushered everyone out.

Walking across the hall, Katharine thought: Victor kept his promise after all. He did it. As only he could do it. No one else would have been able to arrange a screen test for me so easily. She was filled with a feeling of great buoyancy, a buoyancy not only of the spirit but of the body as well. She felt as light as a feather, as though she was floating three feet above the ground on balmy air, and the anxiousness and worry which had burdened her for the past few weeks had been vanquished. She paused to wait for Victor at the door of the drawing room. They walked in together, and she took hold of his arm and squeezed it, gazing up at him. ‘I meant it, Victor. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.’

He returned her gaze unflickeringly. The humorous smile still played around his mouth, but his black eyes were alert and the look he gave her pierced through her. ‘You know how, Katharine,’ he said, sotto voce.

There was a silence. ‘Yes.’ Her tone was as soft as his, and her heart missed a beat.

‘It was nice of you to stay and help me with the dishes,’ Francesca said, swirling the water over the last remaining glasses in the sink. ‘You really didn’t have to, you know. I could have managed.’

‘It was the only way I could get Katharine to go home. She was so insistent about helping you,’ Victor replied. ‘But I saw she was bone tired and falling apart. Two performances in one day are taxing. She suddenly looked done in to me.’

‘Yes, I noticed, and it is very late.’ Francesca handed him another wine goblet to dry. ‘Still, I doubt that she’ll sleep. She’s too worked up about the screen test.’