The Best of Fiona Kidman's Short Stories (37 page)

Again, with hindsight, she thinks he might have let it go then. He was responsible too. Was it through vanity, that he held on to her? She had read too many novels, she thinks, she was too full of words (though she is no less full of them now); she wanted to believe in romance.

They have arranged to meet during the lunch break by the staircase at Smith and Caughey's at a quarter past noon. Natalie takes the suitcase, deciding on an impulse that he can take it to the hotel during the afternoon, and relieve her of its presence in the studio.

Outside, the rain has stopped. Natalie is early, wanting to be there first, to see Stuart look anxiously for her, his face light up when he catches sight of her.

The perfume counters in the shop are loaded with sample bottles. As she waits, she hesitates, unsure which one to try. Now that she is a writer Natalie worries about perfume; she has read the unkind things Virginia Woolf said about Katherine Mansfield's scent. From now on, she has vowed to wear only the best, or none at all. A saleswoman offers her a square of blotting paper to spray with samples. She squirts five of the little squares with different perfumes and files them in her handbag. Then, deciding that Nina Ricci can't be wrong, she blasts a tester across her wrists. She resists looking at the store clock until ten past one.

By the time she gets back to the studio the actress who plays the transvestite's grandmother has fallen ill too, and the first actress has had a relapse. A woman whom Natalie hasn't seen before is seated opposite the counsellor's chair, and Sonny paces up and down.

‘Where the hell have you been?'

‘I'm only observing.'

‘Oh yes, I remember, you're just the writer. You smell like piss.'

‘It's Nina Ricci.'

‘It's probably not her fault. Now, will you sit down? That's Tess, say hullo to her.'

‘Hullo,' Natalie says, like an obedient child.

‘Are you all right?' asks the woman. Natalie notices her fingers, long and almost stringy, with skin so fine it appears transparent. Tess is small and neat,
her cheekbones high, her cap of dark hair fanned with grey above her right ear. A caramel-coloured woollen dress crocheted in a shell pattern skims her hips, ending at least four inches above her knees. Her age could be
twenty-five
or thirty-five.

‘Yes. Thank you.' She likes Tess's voice. ‘Sonny's getting up my nose.'

‘He gets up everybody's nose when he's working with them. Haven't you worked with him before?'

‘Not in the studio.'

‘Are you an actress?' Natalie asks.

‘No, I play the violin in the Symphony Orchestra.'

Natalie is bewildered. ‘I don't get this. How come you know him so well?'

‘Stop talking about me, it's making me embarrassed,' says Sonny.

‘He filmed the orchestra, we were playing Bartok.'

‘The violins were stunning,' Sonny says. ‘Now let's get this show on the road.'

‘But why are we doing this, it's pointless?'

‘Do you want to run this outfit, Natalie? Do you think you're a director now, as well?'

‘He's planning his shots,' says Tess, as if she has a lifetime's experience in television. ‘It'll help him make up time tomorrow.'

‘My nerves are shot now,' says Natalie, with what she perceives as her own grim attempt at humour.

‘So are his,' says Tess softly.

Sonny walks over, studying them both. His gaze rests on Natalie. To her surprise, he reaches out and touches her cheek gently. ‘There, there,' he says. ‘Read the script, you two, okay?'

‘Okay.' Tess picks up the script, Sonny returns to the control room, and on his cue they begin to read.

(
Mrs
Oates
makes
a
cat's
cradle
out
of
the
wool
which
Tess
simulates
very
neatly
with
the
plaited
woo
llen
belt
of
her
dress.
)

(
The
two
women,
Natalie
and
Tess,
have
started
to
laugh
.)

(
A
look
of
surprise
flickers
across
Tess's
finely
wrought
face.
She
hesitates,
undecided
as
to
whether
to
confide
in
Natalie,
and
aware
that
Sonny
is
listening.
She
switches
off
her
microphone,
and,
reaching
over,
switches
off
Natalie's
too
.)

(
Sonny
picks
up
a
megaphone
and
shouts
at
them
.)

(
Tess
switches
it
on.
)

(
Tess'
s
face
turns
in
the
direction
of
where
Sonny
stands
with
his
headphones
on,
looks
suddenly
wistful
.)

(
Natalie
stands,
violently
knocking
the
script
aside
.)

(
They
switch
on
their
microphones.
)

That night they all go to a house in Herne Bay. It is an odd fussy place with pleated curtains at the windows, Dresden china figurines standing on flimsy mahogany furniture, and salmon pink carpets that roll fleshily through the rooms. Nobody seems to know who owns it. Afterwards, Natalie's memory of certain events will be hazy, but she does remember that Tess left the house sometime during the evening, without warning.