Hiding Hollywood Page 16

  Half an hour later, we did a sound and lighting check and at 4.00pm, two and a half hours before our guests were due to arrive, I realised we were ready. I had time to disappear back to Allambee to get dressed. I hit the road in Helen’s old ute which we’d requisitioned to cart things back and forward from the house.

  Allambee’s doors and windows were wide open, there was music playing but no sign of anyone. The hire car was there which meant Simon at least was home. Dan, Jon and Bry had hired a mini bus and there was no sign of it and no sign of the Harley. I was hoping to snatch a few minutes with Rush between a shower and getting dolled up. Not that a few minutes were going to be enough, but if he could do that trick with time again, maybe it would suffice in the short term.

  I found him with Arch and Simon by the pool. Simon was counting and Arch and Rush were suspended on their hands and toes in a plank position facing each other. “Thirty-five,” called Simon, and Rush and Arch executed a push-up, chests bearing down towards the tiles, arms out at their sides, every muscle alive. “Thirty-six,” and they did another. They were both in board shorts and their torsos were glistening with sweat.

  “You’re going down old man,” said Arch, and his next two push-ups were done with one hand behind his back.

  “Not yet I’m not,” said Rush without any sign of breathlessness.

  “Thirty-nine. Hi Andi,” said Simon. “Forty. Forty-one.”

  I came and sat at the pool-edge, legs in the cool water.

  “Hey Andi, go distract him. I’d like to finish him off,” said Arch.

  “Forty-two.”

  “No fair,” said Rush. “She distracts me just being here.”

  “Forty-three. I could distract Arch to even things up,” suggested Simon, with a giggle. “Forty-four.”

  I slid into the pool and waded to the edge where I could see both their faces. I was slightly below them and looking up could see their chest and arm muscles sliding and gripping, and the concentration on their handsome faces.

  Arch was much broader and taller than Rush and looked like he could do this all day. His hair had fallen forward over his forehead and every so often he put a clap at the end of the push-up.

  Rush looked strong beside him. His structure was less that of a body builder and more like a gymnast. You could see his strength but his muscles were leaner, longer and less bunched. He had no trouble keeping pace, and ignored the show boating claps and one handed stunts.

  “Forty-five.”

  So hot. The weather and the view.

  “Forty-six.”

  “Hi,” said Rush.

  “Forty-seven.”

  “Hey,” said Arch. “You could save him from humiliating defeat you know.”

  “Forty-eight.”

  “Do you need saving?” I asked Rush.

  “Forty-nine.”

  “Do I look like I need saving?”

  He looked incredible. All I could think of was licking the sweat off him. “No,” I gulped.

  “Fifty. Fifty-one.” I swam a short lap and when I got back Simon said, “Sixty-two.”

  I went to the steps and walked out. I didn’t have much time, though I’d have loved to watch them sweat it out to the death.

  “Sixty-five. Sixty-six.”

  I grabbed my towel.

  “Sixty-seven.” Walking around them, I made for the path to the house.

  “Sixty-eight.” I drew level with Rush and he dropped his body to the tiles and rolled onto his back, landing at my feet, looking straight up at me.

  “Sixty-nine,” he said, getting it out before Simon and making it very clear he meant more than the number. I blushed, my hand flying to my mouth and Arch spluttered into laughter and sat back on his knees, sweat dripping from his nose.

  “Oh my!” giggled Simon.

  “I need a shower,” I said, adding, “on my own,” when I saw the look Rush gave me. Platonic vanquished he was all devil. I made for the house with their laughter ringing behind me.

  I looked like the glamorous grown up sister I’d never had in the red dress. This was a dress that could make husbands’ gasp, large men cry and small men fearful. This was a dress you could rule the world in. How could such a feeling come from a few metres of red silk? But it did.

  In the hallway, still shoeless, I finished tucking a sprig of fresh picked gardenias into my hair and Shane materialised beside me. He was in jeans and a sleeveless vest, his band clothes. His hair was artfully tousled and his eyes were alive with mischief.

  “Wow. Arch was dead right. You’re a knockout in that dress,” he said, appraising me openly. He gave me a wicked grin and lowered his voice, “Out of it as well, but that’s another story and not mine to tell.” He put his arms around me and hugged me against him. “So Cinders....”

  “Must you?”

  “I think it’s funny.”

  “You would.”

  “At least I’m not calling you Blanche.”

  I cringed, “Thanks Stanley.”

  “You know what’s not funny?”

  “That you will always have a little embarrassing episode, involving me throwing myself at you, over me.” But somehow I didn’t feel embarrassed to be in his arms again.

  “Well there’s that,” he chuckled, “but not what I was thinking of. It’s about how hard he’s fallen. From the top of the ladder girl. We’ve never seen him like this.”

  I sighed, “It’s like we’re a couple of magnets. We started out repelling each other, then the setting changed and now it’s all about attraction. Too damn much attraction, but don’t worry, I know it’s only about now.”

  “What do you mean, only about ‘now’? That man is head over heels in love with you.”

  “He says he might be,” my voice was small and tight.

  “Well what else do you need to know?” he said, resting his chin on my shoulder.

  “It’s hardly realistic is it? I know Rush thinks we can make time, but it’s wishful thinking, it’s not real. He’s Hollywood, I’m ordinary mortal. We‘ve been in this little fantasy, the four of us, for a week and it’s as remote from my real world as Venus from Earth. In any case, twelve hours from now, you’re all out of here. The closest I’ll get to hearing from you again is the occasional ‘how are you’ email until those peter out and I’m left reading the gossip press to get news of you.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said in my ear.

  “I’m not. You know I’m not. You know what happens when people have these short intense experiences together. You want to hold on to it, and you think you can, but it’s so artificial to begin with there really isn’t any substance to it. It’s just a cloud.”

  “You’ve got it wrong Andi,” he let go the hug and pulled me around to face him, holding my hands.

  “I wish you were right.”

  “Don’t play with him,’ he said earnestly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I dunno. I just don’t want him to get hurt.” Which was touching, but what about me? What if I got hurt, who was looking out for me?

  “You do know you look gorgeous? There isn’t a man in this town who’s gonna see you in that dress and not want you in his arms tonight.”

  “Do you make up these lines all by yourself or do you have help?”

  He dropped my hands and grinned, “You’re incredibly rude, you know that.”

  “And you love me for it.”

  “Yeah we do, but fuck it’d be good if you believed that,” he sighed.

  “Right now we need to believe she can get her feet in her shoes,” said Arch, from behind us. He was in band gear as well, jeans, boots and a fitted white singlet that displayed the solid wall of his chest and every ripple of his six pack. This was the more immediate crunch point. I’d been on the go all day and I knew that despite the ice and the occasional sit down, my ankle was swollen and my foot was tender. I sat and Arch brought the shoes to me.

  “Don’t worry if it doesn’t work, we have a back-up plan.”

&nb
sp; “I stay in the production van,” I said despondently.

  He responded with, “Ta dah!” and set my black thongs before me. They’d been decorated with gardenias and bound with red and silver ribbons and looked like a pretty sandal with a bow to fasten behind my heel.

  Unbelievable. “You did this?”

  “Was mostly Simon. He’s a good guy, not my guy, but a good guy, you know what I mean,” said Arch.

  While we were fussing with the shoes, Rush appeared in black dress pants and a crisp white shirt. He had the suit jacket slung over one shoulder and a black bow tie in his hand. Where had that suit come from? It wasn’t your average hire job. I swear my heart did flutter against the silk of my best bra.

  “Thought you might be too stiff to dress,” said Arch, pointedly to Rush.

  “I’m not going anywhere near that crass comment,” Rush rejoined. “I thought you had more class you big oaf.”

  “Not known for our class,” said Shane, “If we don’t pull our fingers out, we’ll be known for being late.”

  Rush took my hand, the widest smile on his lips and sparkle in his eyes. He brought it to his lips and brushed a kiss on top and then flipped it to kiss my palm as well, “Beautiful, so very beautiful,” he said, too softly for anyone but me.

  It turned out only Simon, who looked incredibly cute in his formal black suit, knew how to do Rush’s tie and I was able to squeeze into the silver shoes, but I carried the dress thongs for later.

  29: Break a Heart

  Just as my red dress transformed me from my usual casual self to glamorous stranger, the burnt out hall was re-envisaged. Rising from its blackened shell was a fairy castle. It didn’t have turrets and a drawbridge but it did have a transparent tented ceiling with two peaks from which red and silver pennants flapped, and a red carpet that ran from the doorway to the kerb.

  Standing on that red carpet in a formal suit with red braces was Peter. He waved at us wildly with both arms crossing over his head and turned to say something to someone behind him. Elizabeth appeared, in an apricot lace dress, she looked like a fairy queen.

  “You didn’t?” I said, turning to Arch.

  “I most certainly did. Worth it to see how happy she looks,” he said, “Stevie Nicks eat your heart out.”

  For a moment the five of us stood there trance like, admiring our handiwork but when the music started it woke us. Shane, Arch and Simon took gear from the back of the ute and made their way inside. I locked the car, took Rush’s arm and we strolled our way towards our fantasy castle.

  “Do you like how your vision turned out?” I asked.

  “The only thing in my vision is you and I like it very much.”

  I stopped, “You are too much. I don’t know what to do with you.” I was serious, he was too much. He’d said he was falling in love with me, but that couldn’t possibly be right. He was pouring on the charm and I felt like I might drown in it and you know how peaceful they say drowning can be after the initial panic is gone. I simply had to start panicking again.

  He offered me his arm, “You can do anything you want to me. I’m at a distinct disadvantage, I can’t think straight around you tonight. There was something I had to tell you but I’ve forgotten entirely what it was.”

  I took his arm, there just wasn’t the time for more of this discussion, and I had an event to run. We made our way up the red carpet, under a bower of white fragrant lilies and across the rose petal strewn foyer. This was the pathway that half an hour later our four hundred guests would come.

  Cathy, wearing a lilac silk shantung dress with a lace jacket and glittery stars pinned in her upswept hair met us at the door.

  “Oh my goodness, I think I’m going to cry,” she said. “This is so much more than I imagined. We will never be able to thank you enough for this night.”

  Rush met her with a kiss on the cheek.

  “Wait, can you do that again when my husband is watching?” she said, blushing and then she bellowed, “Norman!”

  Rush laughed and called, “Norman, come out from wherever you are. Your wife wants you to watch me ravish her.”

  Helen, resplendent in an emerald green fifties style cocktail dress with wide shoulders and a full skirt appeared, dragging a short round man in a too tight suit. Norman planted his feet in front of Cathy and Rush, put his fists on his hips and said, “So you’re the bloke my wife’s been spending all this time with.”

  “I’m the bloke,” said Rush, “what are you going to do about it?”

  “Wish you all the best mate,” said Norman, slapping his black suited thigh.

  “Norman!” exclaimed Rush, Cathy, Helen and I together.

  Rush swung back to Cathy and said, “Cathy darling, my heart belongs to another but if she dumps me, I’m all yours,” he kissed her on the mouth to ringing laughter, Norman’s the loudest of all. Rush gave Helen a hug and kiss as well and chatting together we moved inside, Rush telling Norman how much fun he’d had working with Cathy.

  “Your mother would cry if she could see you now, you look so beautiful,” said Helen, at my side.

  “You look pretty amazing yourself. I knew you’d have treasures in your wardrobe I could have borrowed.”

  “At a pinch, but nothing would have suited you better than that dress,” she said, and then lowered her voice, “And that man.”

  “Oh Helen,” those two words articulating all my fears.

  “Oh my darling girl, what are you worried about? He’s a wonderful person. We’re all a little in love with him.”

  “That’s the problem Helen. He is special. Shane and Arch are too, but they don’t belong here and I don’t belong with Rush. Just borrowing each other for a little while is the best it can be.”

  “Are you sure he feels that way? I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  “He says he might love me, but we’ve only known each other eight days and for half of that time I thought he was a terrible person. It’s all messed up, I’m so confused. If I close my eyes and try to forget the real world I can almost convince myself we can be together. But I live in the real world and he lives in a Hollywood make-believe one. He owns his own jet, several homes, a dozen cars, he has his own charity and can barely go anywhere without being recognised. That’s not the real world. We just can’t fit.”

  Helen took my hands, ”Don’t tell your mother I said this, but have your romance tonight. If it can’t be forever, it can be a wonderful memory.”

  I nodded and kept hold of her hand as we entered the main hall. Even though I knew to the exact measurement of each banner and bow what I would see, I was delighted by the beautiful scene we’d created.

  Inside, special effects lighting made the scorched stone walls appear as patterned wallpaper. Red and silver banners hung from the balcony and ribbons crisscrossed the ceiling void from the enormous chandelier to the edges of the space. On each of the tables, atop a crisp white tablecloth, crystal candelabra held red candles. The scent of lilies filled the air and the DJ spun Michael Buble’s ‘Crazy love’, the opening line resonant in the empty castle, “I can hear her heartbeat for a thousand miles and the heavens open up every time she smiles.”

  “May I have this dance before the party starts?” asked Rush, not waiting for an answer, taking me in his arms and waltzing me around, barely letting my feet touch the ground. This was nothing like the last time we’d danced and I knew I wouldn’t flinch from his touch and I didn’t want to run away, though he still scared me. He was too much.

  When Michael Buble gave way to Harry Connick Junior’s ‘Stardust’, Rush released me with a kiss to my forehead. “It’s your ball Cinderella, go make it magical,” and still holding one hand added, “But no dancing with any other Princes.” Reluctantly I left him with Helen and went to find Sally.

  Half an hour later, the red carpet was experiencing heavy foot traffic and the main room was starting to fill up. Waiters circulated with finger food and champagne, mineral water and beer. The DJ played more Michael an
d Harry, with a side order of Jamie Callum, Norah Jones, Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles and Nat King Cole.

  The women were elegant, pretty or sexy. The men were all more handsome than they’d been earlier in the day and many of them for a lot longer than that. A jazz band played as the entree was served and the evening snuggled in to its schedule.

  Wine was consumed, fish was swapped for beef, real life was exaggerated, new friends were met, and old friends were bored with each other but in better clothing and more interesting circumstances and the lilies sent their fragrance out into the night.

  On stage, Cathy bade everyone welcome and introduced the planned entertainment. She thanked the guests for their attendance and then created a buzz when she introduced Rush, Arch and Shane as the mystery benefactors who’d helped raise enough money to start construction on the new hall immediately.

  At Rush’s table there was a loud whooping as Norman, Helen and Cecily lead the cheering and a spotlight swept their table. Another spotlight found Shane and Arch leaning nonchalantly against a wall waiting their turn on stage. They both gave a wave and the people seated nearest them gave a roar of applause, suddenly realising the two underdressed blokes lurking nearby in the dark, were part of the show.

  When the first act, a local blues band jumped on stage to welcoming applause, couples were quick to take to the dance floor, returning to their tables for dessert and coffee with handmade chocolates in the shape of the new hall.

  “So far so good,” said Sally wearing a fitted sliver satin dress, a big smile and a headset with a microphone and earpiece that let her communicate with other members of the staging team. “Shane wants to see you backstage,” she said, touching the earpiece.

  Backstage was a party of another sort altogether. Our local acts and our international guests had been served a buffet dinner and were mingling freely, discussing various musical instruments and arrangements. Peter was there as well, shadowing Shane and making himself useful.

  “Andi, over here,” called Shane, when he saw me slip into the backstage area. “We’ve got an idea. We thought we’d play a final song with everyone on stage, a grand finale.”