The Berkeley Method (16 page)

“Callum!” repeats Natalie, walking towards him. She throws her tiny arms around him and air-kisses dramatically, coming nowhere near his cheeks.

Then she draws back and stares intently into his eyes.

“No hard feelings?” she says.

“Of course not,” replies Callum, forcing jocularity into his voice. “So long as you promise to behave on this picture.”

“Oh Callum!” Natalie bats his hand with a little more force than is friendly. “I
always
behave on movie sets. You know that.”

Her accent is pure Californian beach bunny, and despite her fashionable clothing, she exudes an air of wholesome all-American girl. It’s the look which landed her first big parts as a child actress. As an adult, it’s missing a certain sexiness, but it’s a likable image.

“This is Isabella Green,” says Callum, gesturing to me in a clear bid to draw attention from himself. “And Camilla McKinnon.”

Camilla almost bounces in her seat at the introduction.

“I’ve seen
all
your movies,” she squeaks. “I’m so excited to see you act!”

Natalie turns a quick, assessing glance at Camilla and then gives her a fake smile of indulgence.

“That is, like,
so
sweet,” she murmurs. In the next instant, she’s zeroing in on me.

“So
, you’re the leading lady?” she says with a wide, friendly smile.

Next to me, I notice Camilla is crushed at the slight. My heart goes out to her.

“Um. Yeah,” I manage, not certain at how to deal with this sudden friendliness.

“So good to meet you!” Natalie walks to my side of the table and extends her hand. I shake it uncertainly. She closes my hand in a firm grip.

Now she’s moved closer, I can smell her heavy floral perfume. Her eyes are green. But a hard kind of green. Like bright emeralds.

Aside from the dash of lipstick, her face is almost devoid of make-up. She looks like what parents describe as a nice girl. The kind that soldiers would come home to after war.

Natalie gives me another smile, revealing straight white teeth.

“You know, James was considering me for your role,” she says, releasing my hand and keeping the wholesome smile fixed in place. “So
, I can’t
wait
to see what you make of it. You must be, like,
insanely
talented.”

She says this last part with a roll of her eyes, and a modest little smile.

I have no idea what to say to this. But, I am aware that Camilla is still heartbroken to be ignored by her idol.

“We were going to rehearse today,” I say, thinking this would be a way for Camilla to see more of Natalie. “Perhaps you’d like to join us?”

“No thanks,” says Natalie, tossing her copper-coloured hair. “I have, like, a
really
good memory for lines. It comes from acting at a young age.”

She settles her gaze on me, as if remembering something.

“Did James tell you who the leading man was yet?” she asks, her eyes drilling into me.

“I. Um. No.” I look to Callum and Camilla for support.

“That’s a shame,” says Natalie airily. “I should have been told. Really. It’s important who I’m cast with. I can only
hope
it’s Shane,” she adds, alluding to mega star Shane Peters as though he’s her best friend. “Because Michael and I
do not
get along.”

“
You don’t get along with many people
,” mutters Callum, just loud enough for Camilla and me to hear.

There’s a sudden muttering at the back of Natalie’s entourage, and my heart leaps to see James emerge.

Hello baby.

He’s changed from the suit he was wearing last night into a soft Abercrombie sweater and grey cords, and looks sexy dressed-down.

His eyes drop to my face, and I see his eyes soften for a moment. He nods a quick greeting to Callum and Camilla.

Callum gives James a grave smile. They clearly have great respect for one another.

Then James is all business, turning to Natalie.

“Natalie,” he says. It’s a question, a statement, and a telling-off, all in one.

Beside me, I see Natalie quail, like a schoolgirl who’s been summoned to the headmaster’s office.

“Hello, James!” she says brightly. But she can’t keep the unease entirely from her voice, despite her acting ability.

“My kitchen staff tell me that you’ve had your
people
in there, making demands,” says James.

“Oh, well,” Natalie’s forced brightness is fading fast, “you know how that goes
, James.” She licks her lip nervously. “I don’t like to have bread and all that heavy stuff around.”

“
You
do not dictate what happens in
my
studio kitchen,” he says.

“Um. Well. No, that’s fine,” stammers Natalie.

James pushes his hands through his hair.

I love it when he does that
. I resist the urge to leap up and rush into his arms.

“There’s the other little matter of the press,” says James. His voice is quiet, deadly. The colour drains from Natalie’s face.

“Well, you know,” she says weakly, “I hate to wait in traffic.”

James takes a look around the restaurant and clearly decides it would be fairer to berate Natalie in private.

“Come with me,” he says, turning on his heels.

Now that he’s not staring into her face, Natalie collects herself a little.

“I just got off the flight,” she says, tossing her poker-straight hair a little. “So, I need a lie down. But I’ll come later.”

“
Now
.” James is walking out of the restaurant. I wince at the tone and notice that Camilla and Callum do the same. James doesn’t look over his shoulder, and Natalie hesitates only a moment before trotting out after him.

Her entourage turn to follow, like a school of fish.

“Stay here, stay here!” she hisses, flapping her hands at them. “Find something to do for a few minutes.”

In a moment, she’s gone, and the hyper-charged atmosphere of the restaurant dissipates.

“Phew,” says Callum, wiping his brow. “Well, that’s the last we’ll see of
her
. Apart from every day on-set, of course.” He gives a weary smile.

“It was good to meet her at least,” says Camilla in a sad little voice. She forces herself back to cheerfulness. “I’ll get to see her act,” she adds. “So exciting.”

“Yeah,” says Callum. “I think you might find the excitement wears off when you’ve been waiting for her to arrive on set for three hours.”

He shakes himself, visibly returning to his comedic charm.

“So, whaddya say,” he asks, waggling his eyebrows and dialling up his New York accent. “How’s about we gets some breakfast, and gets to rehearshalrehearsal?”

Camilla breaks into a broad smile. “Yes,” she agrees. “That sounds great.”

“Ms. Green?” Callum is looking at me. I’m still a little dizzied by the force of nature that is Natalie Ennis. And my mind is now preoccupied that she is alone with James.

“Um. Yeah, sure.” I give him a distracted smile. “I’d like nothing better.”

Chapter 1
7

We’re halfway to the rehearsal studio when I remember I’ve left my cell phone back at my chalet. I don’t really need it, but the truth is I couldn’t bear to miss a call or text from James.

“I’ll catch you up,” I explain to Camilla and Callum. “I just got to pick something up from my chalet.”

“Don’t get lost again,” says Callum as I head back towards the little village of actors’ accommodations.

I arrive to discover that Camilla wasn’t kidding about Natalie’s entourage. Miss Diva is nowhere to be seen, but I can tell which chalet is hers by the raft of staff members buzzing around outside it.

Several people are planting flowers out along the pathway, and packs of burly men are heaving in huge pieces of furniture. I make out an enormous white leather couch and parts of a glittery gold bed. From the looks of things, Natalie likes her interior bling.

Her chalet is only a few doors down from mine, and when I see a huge speaker set being manhandled through the door, I wonder whether she’s going to be the best of neighbours.

I resolve to give her the benefit of the doubt, and reach for my key card.

The door is unlocked though, which is strange. I’m forgetful at the best of times, but I’m sure I remember closing it properly when I left.

Shaking my head at my general air-headedness, I push open the door.

But as I step inside, I feel instantly as though something is wrong. As I walk inside, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Something is different here. But what?

I remember the eerie laugh in my bedroom and give a little shudder.

There’s no way that could have been real, could it? The entire chalet was sealed up that day. No one could have got inside. And besides, I checked the bedroom. It was empty. People don’t just vanish.

I walk uncertainly up the staircase, wondering if I should go outside and ask one of Natalie’s staff members to come inside with me.

I’m half considering swallowing my pride and asking. And then I remember that James stayed the night. I don’t know if he took all of his clothes with him this morning. The last thing I need is gossip starting amongst the crew that I have men back to my chalet.

I take a breath, fortifying my courage, and begin to climb the staircase.

There’s no one in here, Isabella. Stop being such a coward.

How badly do I need my phone anyway? I consider a day without contact from James, and decide it is essential.

The bedroom door is halfway open, just as I left it.

You see, Isabella. Nothing to worry about.

Slowly, I push open the door.

The first thing to catch my attention is my cell phone on the bedside table.

And then I see the bedspread.

Someone has drawn a large heart on it in red lipstick.

My eyes fall to the floor. A Clarins lipstick lies abandoned with its lid off, the stick of paint worn down to a scratched nub.

I recognise it from the bathroom. And for some reason, seeing it cast aside and ruined charges me with a little surge of fear.

I look back to the heart on the bed.

Did James leave it?

The shape is uneven, carelessly done. More like a poisoned pen than a love letter.

And James got this bedspread especially for me. I can’t believe he’d daub it in lipstick.

I snatch up my cell phone, keeping my distance from the bed. Then I back out of the room uncertainly, my thoughts racing.

By the time I’m at the bottom of the stair, I’m already dialling James.

Did Natalie do this? It’s a bizarre thought, but she’s not the most stable of people. And she has just arrived in the studio.

The call to James fails to connect, and I exit the chalet. I realise my heart is pounding.

Without a better plan, I head back to the rehearsal studio, my mind whirring.

And by the time I’ve reached the confusing jumble of studio buildings, I’ve managed to calm myself down.

Probably, it’s just a prank, I decide. Maybe it’s something that happens in all movie studios, hazing the newcomer. Or one of Natalie’s crew saw that I’d left the door open and decided to play a joke on the leading lady.

I cringe inwardly to think that someone has been inside my bedroom. What if they looked in the bedside drawers?

“Hey! Isabella. Are you ok?”

I see Callum on the main path.

“I thought you might have got lost,” he explains. “These studios can be like a maze.”

As he closes in on me, I see his face change. I must look more anxious than I realise.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, touching my elbow in concern.

“I. Um. Oh, it’s nothing,” I say, trying for a smile. “It’s just that I left my chalet door open.” I frown and shrug. “And some joker scrawled in lipstick on my bedspread. I guess I should be glad it’s nothing worse.”

I manage something more like a real smile. But Callum’s looks suddenly frightened.

“Lipstick?”

“Uh huh.”

“Just lipstick? Or was it a drawn shape?”

“Um. Yeah. A shape,” I say slowly, wondering how Callum could know this. “It was a heart shape.”

His face drops in horror.

“A heart, in lipstick?”

“Yeah. Some joke!” I shrug again. Then I notice that Callum’s face is ashen. He’s fumbling for his cell phone.

“What is it?” I ask.

Callum begins to dial. His hands are shaking.

“Callum?” The fear is beginning to rise again now. “What is it? You’re freaking me out.”