Deep and Silent Waters

Within a week Sebastian had sent the script of The Lily; Laura found it heavy-going, too static, wordy, scenes telegraphed too far in advance, as though the writer believed the audience couldn’t follow the storyline without heavy hints about what was coming. One night he rang to ask what she thought.

Laura was truthful. ‘I’m sorry, but it stinks. It’s more like chunks from the book than a film script.’

‘Yes.’ He groaned. ‘I know. The trouble is, the book’s so long, so much happens over more than twenty years, and if we leave half of it out the audience will miss the nuances – and all the really important stuff goes on inside the heads of the characters.’

‘You need a narrator.’

‘That’s an alternative, but first I need a new writer. Each script I get is an improvement, believe it or not. You should have seen the one I did myself. The sets are finished now – all the pre-production stuff is going like a dream. I just can’t get the script right.’ He laughed. ‘So what’s new? Story of my life.’

‘How are you going to get a unit base anywhere near Ca’ d’Angeli?’ She had been wondering about that ever since he first broached the idea of using the palazzo. All the ancillary services would need to be set up near the location – catering, the master production computer, somewhere for everyone to meet and talk about work, the wardrobe, makeup, not to mention all the electrical capacity for cables, lighting, cameras.

‘We’ve managed to hire an old warehouse not too far away, which should take care of the heavy stuff, and we’re renting a house behind Ca’ d’Angeli, to take Wardrobe and Makeup.’

‘When do you plan to start shooting?’ She hadn’t yet allowed herself to believe this film was going to happen.

‘The early location work ought to be done in February, during the Venice Carnival – that’s the atmosphere I want. To re-create it for the film would cost a fortune in extras and costumes. I’ll set up cameras in the streets and just shoot what goes past – free and spontaneous action, as unpredictable as life itself, can’t be beaten.’

‘Won’t it be cold in February?’

‘Very. And wet.’

‘Cameras always seem to seize up in really cold weather. They’re more delicate than human beings.’

He laughed. ‘True, but Sidney has a few tricks up his sleeve to cope with that. We’ll have to live with it.’ A pause, then he asked her, ‘How are you?’

‘Okay.’ She took a deep breath, then plunged. ‘Although I miss Jancy.’

‘Who the hell is Jancy?’ His voice grew rough, as if he was angry. Or was it guilt?

‘You know. My doll.’

‘Doll?’ he echoed, his tone changing. ‘Oh, I thought this was some guy you were talking about. My God, that doll! I remember it. You’ve had it for years, haven’t you? What do you mean, you miss her? Have you lost her?’

‘In Venice.’ She could not believe him capable of the violence, the viciousness, that had destroyed Jancy.

‘Have you rung the hotel? They may have her in their lost-property box.’

‘I don’t need to. Somebody sent her back to me – with her face smashed in.’

She heard his sharp intake of breath. ‘Christ.’ There was a long silence, then he asked, ‘Was there a postmark? Was the parcel sent from Venice?’

‘No, from here, London. And whoever sent it knew my address, which isn’t common knowledge, is it?’

His voice was deep and harsh. ‘That’s worrying, Laura. Have you told the police?’

‘What? That somebody stole my doll and battered its head to pieces? It’s hardly a hanging offence, is it?’ It can’t have been him, she thought. He isn’t an actor, he sounds genuinely worried. ‘There was a note pinned on her, Sebastian. Now, that was scary.’

‘What did it say?’

She told him.

‘Tell the police, Laura. You must. And tell them about the notes you got in Venice, too. These days, you hear so much about stalking – that’s what this could be, some lunatic fixated on you in a very dangerous way. Tell the police at once and get some protection.’

‘I doubt they’d have time to give me a police guard night and day.’

‘Promise you’ll at least talk to them about this. I wish I could be around to keep an eye on you, but I’m off to South America early tomorrow morning to do some retakes.’

‘You’re still working on that film?’