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Fame and Wuthering Heights. Emily Bronte
Читать онлайн.Название Fame and Wuthering Heights
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007438891
Автор произведения Emily Bronte
Жанр Классическая проза
Издательство HarperCollins
‘Sure.’ Viorel’s earlier anger seemed to have melted away like an ice lolly in the sunshine. ‘Tish and I are on our way back there now. Why don’t you follow us?’
‘Was that a princess?’ asked Abel to Tish’s irritation as she backed onto the road. ‘She’s really pretty. And she’s got a cool car. With cool windows.’
‘That is not a princess,’ snapped Tish. ‘That is a very rude woman. And you wouldn’t think her car was so cool if it had hit us. Why didn’t you say something?’ she added crossly to Viorel. ‘She shouldn’t be on the roads.’
Viorel clocked Tish’s angry, tense expression and thought: She’s jealous. How endearing. She didn’t like me being nice to Sabrina. ‘I’ll have a word with the driver later,’ he said soothingly.
He hadn’t been looking forward to this shoot. He’d already spent far too much of his life in the English countryside, and had always found it deadly dull. But perhaps Derbyshire would be the exception?
There was hope in the Hope Valley after all.
‘No! No way. They’re not going to a fucking hotel.’
An hour later and Sabrina Leon’s screams could be heard the length and breadth of Loxley Hall.
‘Well they’re not staying here, Sabrina.’ Dorian Rasmirez’s voice was ten decibels lower but every bit as firm. ‘I told you before. No entourage.’
‘Entourage?’ Sabrina’s yelling shot up an octave. ‘In what alternative fucking universe are they an entourage? They’re my bodyguards. I need them for protection. How are they gonna protect me if they’re in a hotel?’
‘They aren’t, because this is bullshit,’ said Dorian. ‘Self-important bullshit. No one else brought bodyguards. What do you need protection from?’
‘The press!’ shrieked Sabrina. ‘Who do you think? You should have seen them at Heathrow, like a pack of fucking hyenas.’
‘Perhaps you should try being polite to them?’ said Dorian. ‘They’re always very respectful to me.’
‘They’re not interested in you,’ said Sabrina bluntly. ‘No one else brought bodyguards because no one else sells newspapers the way I do, OK? It’s that simple.’
Dorian was unmoved. ‘You can shout all you like. Those neanderthals are not staying on this set and that is my final word on the subject.’
‘Fine. Then I’ll check into a hotel with them.’
‘No you will not. You will stay here. You’re under contract.’
At that point both the decibel level and the language got so bad that Tish had to abandon Abel’s bedtime story and come downstairs to confront them. ‘I’m sorry, but I have a small boy sleeping upstairs. If you can’t have a civil conversation, please go and shout at each other somewhere else.’
‘Sorry,’ said Dorian sheepishly. ‘I forgot you guys were home.’
Abel, looking more adorable than ever in his white cotton Peter Rabbit pyjamas, appeared on the staircase behind his mother. ‘Guess what?’ he said brightly to Dorian.
‘What?’ said Dorian, ignoring Sabrina and focusing all his attention on the boy.
‘I nearly died today.’
‘Did you, now?’
Abel nodded solemnly. ‘Uh-huh. Twice.’
‘Don’t exaggerate, Abel,’ said Tish.
‘I’m not!’ Abel insisted. ‘Once when Michael pushed me out of the apple tree, and once when that lady tried to crash into our car.’ He pointed at Sabrina.
Dorian’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is this true?’
‘No!’ said Sabrina.
‘Yes,’ said Tish simultaneously. ‘She ran us off the road. Or at least her driver did.’
‘That’s crap,’ said Sabrina. ‘She was driving like an old lady. We passed her and she panicked. Tell him, Viorel.’
‘Oh no. Don’t look at me.’ Walking down the stairs, Viorel stopped behind Abel, scooping the boy up into his arms.
‘Hello, Abel Henry Gunning Crewe.’ He beamed.
‘Hello, Viorel Hudson.’ Abel beamed back.
Sabrina said what everyone was thinking. ‘Holy crap, you two look alike.’
‘Language!’ hissed Tish. But she was really annoyed with herself for feeling so flustered now that Viorel had turned up. He’d changed out of the jeans and sweater he’d been wearing earlier into a pair of white linen Paul Smith trousers and an open-necked Gucci shirt in racing green that made his eyes positively glow. This is ridiculous, thought Tish, as another rush of blood made its way towards her cheeks. If he’s going to be living under my roof for the next two months, I’m going to have to stop blushing like a schoolgirl every time we’re in the same room.
‘Look,’ snapped Sabrina, irritated that for a full minute attention had been diverted from herself. ‘I don’t have time for this. I’m tired and I need to get this shit resolved about my security guys so I can get some rest.’
‘It’s resolved,’ said Dorian. ‘They go. You stay.’
Sensing things were about to kick off again, Viorel stepped in, snaking one arm around Sabrina’s waist and lifting her suitcase with the other. ‘You must be shattered, darling,’ he said smoothly. ‘Tish has already shown me where your room is. Let me take you up.’
‘I’ll help!’ said Abel, leaping onto Sabrina’s Louis Vuitton trunk like a squirrel monkey. ‘I’ve got super-strong muscles. Look.’ He flexed his nonexistent biceps at Viorel.
‘I don’t think so.’ Tish stepped forward to retrieve her son. ‘You’ve had enough injuries for one day.’
‘But I want to,’ Abel moaned. ‘I want to help the lady who tried to run me over with her car.’
Viorel roared with laughter.
‘For God’s sake,’ said Sabrina, ‘I did not try to run him over.’
‘I didn’t mind,’ Abel assured her. ‘It was a really cool car. You’re very pretty.’
Even Sabrina had to be charmed by that. ‘Thank you. Abel, is it?’
‘Abel Henry Gunning Crewe.’
‘Well, thank you, Abel. But I think you’d better go upstairs now. Your mommy looks mad.’
Doesn’t she just? thought Vio mischievously. Tish was a gorgeous girl, and sweet with it, but he knew which side his bread was buttered. Rasmirez had warned him off in so many words, and heartbroken chicks were usually more trouble than they were worth anyway. Not as much trouble as Sabrina Leon, perhaps, but then Vio had already decided he wasn’t going to screw Sabrina. As Terence Dee, the agent who discovered him, had once memorably said about the perils of sleeping with one’s co-stars: ‘Even dogs don’t shit where they eat.’ If eight weeks of celibacy proved too much, Vio would simply have to take Dorian’s advice and get his rocks off with a local girl.
Pity.
A few hours later, Tish collapsed into bed exhausted. What a day it had been! From her crack-of-dawn expedition up the Home Farm chimney and mortifying first encounter with Viorel Hudson, to Abel’s hospital trip and their near-death run-in with Sabrina Leon, the arrival of the actors seemed to have raised the stress levels at Loxley by a factor of about a hundred.
Viorel’s flirting was flattering. But Tish was a sensible girl. Men like him were in it for the chase, for