Hot Surrender

'Later this afternoon,' guessed Will.

Hal sighed, nodded. 'Well, I'll get into the card game, then.' A group of actors and crew not needed on set at the moment were playing cards in one of the caravans.

Since it wasn't politic for Zoe to know about the card game, she didn't comment. If anyone from the film company found out she permitted it she would get a load of trouble. They would object to paying people to sit around playing cards, although they were aware of the long hours spent setting up every scene and must realise that the actors were often kept hanging, around waiting most of the day. Actors read, knitted, embroidered, exercised, gossiped, played cards or dominoes or chess, did anything to pass the time. As long as they didn't get in her way she didn't care what they did.

When Hal had gone Will shot her a curious look. 'What was all that about?'

She didn't quite meet his eyes. Casually, she said, 'Oh, I had an idea yesterday—Hal and I were at a party in his cousin's house…'

Will's brows shot up. 'You and Hal went to a party together? I had no idea you were dating him. My God, don't tell me you're in love with Hal Thaxford! You can't be that stupid!'

'That isn't funny!' She grimaced, flushing. 'You know what I think of Hal. We were both at the same party, that's all.'

'Yeah?' drawled Will, and she laughed crossly.

'Yes! I went with my sister and her husband, who works for Hal's cousin.' Why was she explaining? What had her private life to do with Will?

'Who's that? The cousin?' Will had finished his spaghetti and was eating a pear which he had peeled carefully first.

She took an unsteady breath, afraid that just saying his name might give her away.

'His name's Hillier. Connel Hillier.' She had got the name out without stumbling or stammering; relief made her run on easily. 'He runs a civil engineering firm and he has this beautiful house, near a village called Rookby…'

'Are there any?'

'What?' Interrupted again, she was thrown, staring at Will blankly.

'Rooks?'

'I've no idea. It was dark when we got there, dark when we left Anyway, Hal and I talked about his part in the film, out in the garden…'

'In the dark?' Will was amused, curious, teasing again.

She glared. 'Don't try to make anything of it. There's nothing to make. There were other people exploring the garden, and it was very overcrowded in the house, so we went out for some fresh air and found this sunken rose garden.'

'You're very touchy on the subject of Hal! You're making me jealous. Are you hiding something?'

'Of course I'm not' Not about Hal, anyway. Luckily, it hadn't occurred to him that Hal's cousin might be behind her edginess. 'And I'm not touchy about Hal. Will you listen? This sunken garden had high red brick walls, trellises of roses, lots of them still in bloom—it was quite lovely, and it occurred to me that it would make a great; setting for the love scene between Hal and Lindsay.'

Will flipped the pages of his shooting script, found the right scene, read it, frowning. 'Well, it would certainly be a good idea to vary the background; it adds depth. I always like a new background, myself, and it would fit the storyline. But can we afford it? How much will this guy charge? That's the question.'

'Hal didn't mention money.'

'If his cousin's a businessman, his lawyers will, when the contract is drawn up. What's it worth to get a different background?'

'We'll see what he wants first, then decide. We won't get to that scene for about ten days.' She looked at her watch. 'Look at the time! Let's get on, Will.'

When she got home that evening she was on tenterhooks, half expecting to see Connel's car parked outside, but there was no sign of him. The first thing she did, as usual, when she got inside, was to turn on the answer-machine for her messages.

The calls were mostly work-related, but the third voice was Sancha's.

'Okay, so what happened? Why did you run out like that? Mark was angry. We brought you and it was his boss's house—it was insulting to Connel, and the last thing he wants is for you to upset Connel. Ring me. I want to hear all about it, Zoe!'

Not on your life, thought Zoe, as her sister's voice ended. She wasn't telling Sancha anything.

The machine whirred and she found herself listening to Philip Cross, the company accountant, making his almost daily call of complaint about her spending.

'You're over budget again, Zoe. We don't have unlimited cash; this isn't Hollywood That party scene, the fancy dress…who ran those costumes up? What do you have wardrobe women for if it isn't to make low-budget costumes? You didn't have to hire them from London. And there are too many vehicles being used. You can cut down the number of cars, surely…'