Angel. Barbara Taylor Bradford

not loitering around here, waiting to be of service to you when you came back from the set, was Margaret Ellsworth.’ Fanny pulled a face and continued, ‘She’s absolutely determined to get that gown, the one she wore for the Coronation scene in Westminster Abbey. She’s ready to kill for it.’

      Puzzled, Rosie frowned. ‘Why would anyone want a medieval dress, for God’s sake? It’s not even all that beautiful…certainly it was never a particular favourite of mine, even if I did design it.’

      ‘Actresses are actresses, a breed apart. Well, at least the difficult ones are,’ Fanny muttered, and then she flashed Rosie a bright smile. ‘But of course there are those who are very special, and they far outnumber the miserable ones like the Maggie Ellsworths of this world.’

      ‘They do indeed,’ Rosie agreed. ‘Anyway, you’d better take this matter up with Aida. If Production wants to sell the dress, or give it to Maggie, it’s fine with me. I mean, I don’t own it, you know, nor do I want it for my archive. Why don’t you go and see Aida now? Sort the matter out with her, and then come back as quickly as possible. I’d like to start cataloguing the sketches this afternoon.’

      ‘Okay. I’ll be back in a minute, and Val’s on her way here from Wardrobe right now, so don’t worry, the three of us will make light work of all this.’ So saying, Fanny swung around and darted out, carelessly slamming the door behind her so hard the light fixture rattled.

      Smiling to herself, Rosie reached for the phone, shaking her head as she did. Fanny was such a character; she really was going to miss her and Val. Opening her address book, she found the number of the Broadway producers who had contacted her about their new musical, and then glanced at her watch.

      It was three-thirty in the afternoon here in England. With the five-hour time difference that made it ten-thirty in the morning in New York. The perfect time exactly to make this call.

      THREE

      Almost three hundred people had been invited to the wrap party, and to Rosie, standing in the doorway, it looked as if everyone had shown up.

      The entire unit was present, along with the cast, some of the studio executives, and quite a few civilians. The latter were the people only associated with the movie through their spouses, or nearest and dearest, and whom the producers had included on the invitation list as a courtesy.

      Holding drinks in their hands, all were chatting animatedly, mingling together on the biggest sound stage at Shepperton, where the Great Hall of Middleham Castle had been re-created.

      Moving forward to join the throng, Rosie saw that the set looked a little different than it had a few hours earlier, when the movie had finally wrapped. The large pieces of medieval-style furniture had been removed, a small combo played popular music in one corner, and the caterers had placed long trestle tables around the sound stage. Covered with starched white cloths, these were laden with food: smoked salmon and poached salmon from Scotland, roast chickens and turkeys, glazed hams, legs of lamb, sides of roast beef, and all manner of salads and vegetables, assorted cheeses, and fancy desserts ranging from French pastries and chocolate mousse with whipped cream to fruit salad and English trifle.

      Two similar tables had been set up as bars and were being serviced by a string of bartenders, while dozens of waiters and waitresses were circulating with trays of drinks and appetizers.

      A waiter glided past her, and Rosie whisked a glass of champagne off the tray, thanked him, and sallied forth into the crowd in search of Aida, and her assistants, Fanny and Val.

      Within seconds she found the producer in conversation with some of the studio brass, and when Aida saw her approaching she excused herself and hurried forward.

      Rosie exclaimed, ‘This is some wrap party. Congratulations!’

      ‘Oh, but I didn’t do anything,’ the producer demurred quickly, ‘except pick up a phone and call the caterers.’

      Rosie grinned at her. ‘Of course you did something. You planned all this, so don’t be so modest. And incidentally, what do you have up your sleeve for later?’

      Aida gave her a puzzled look. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Last week, over lunch, you told me you’d think of something special, something appropriate, to celebrate Bonfire Night, as well as the wrap.’

      ‘How about burning an effigy of Margaret Ellsworth?’ Fanny muttered in a low voice, as she sidled up to them with Val in tow.

      ‘Naughty, naughty,’ Rosie chastised, but her voice was mild and there was an amused glint in her eyes. Glancing at the producer, she went on, ‘What happened about the medieval dress? Did you sell it to Maggie?’

      Aida shook her head. ‘No, I gave it to her. And if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never know why on earth she wanted it.’

      ‘Perhaps to play Lady Macbeth,’ Fanny suggested. ‘It’s the ideal role for her.’

      ‘Or Vampira,’ Val added, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, faking horror. ‘She’d be perfect for that part, too.’

      ‘Thanks very much, the three of you!’ Rosie said. ‘That certainly says a lot for my costumes.’

      ‘Your costumes are never anything but great, the greatest,’ Gavin said behind her, put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. Then he added softly, with a chuckle, ‘Look what the cat dragged in.’

      ‘I knew I’d find you somewhere around here, Rosie, swilling champagne and living it up,’ an unmistakable English voice said.

      Instantly pivoting, her eyes opening wider, Rosie came face to face with Nell, who was beautifully made-up and coiffed and looked band-box smart in a black suit and pearls.

      ‘You made it, Nelly! How wonderful!’ Rosie exclaimed in delight.

      The two women, such close friends for years, hugged each other fiercely, and when they finally drew apart, Nell said, ‘How could I miss this wrap party? It’s my picture, too, isn’t it?’

      ‘Indeed it is,’ Aida asserted, and stepping forward she shook Nell’s hand. ‘Welcome back.’

      ‘Thanks, Aida, and I must say it’s nice to see all of you again,’ Nell responded, and she smiled warmly at Fanny and Val, including them in this statement.

      Rosie’s assistants greeted her affectionately, returned her smile, and then quickly slid away.

      Aida also made a move to take her leave, explaining, ‘I think I’d better go and check on everything. And persuade that combo to play something a bit livelier. Oh, and regarding Bonfire Night, Rosie, I did come up with something. But it’s a surprise. See you later.’ With this comment she hurried off.

      Gavin took two glasses of champagne from a passing waitress, handed one to Nell, and immediately the three of them moved into a corner of the sound stage where it was a bit quieter.

      Rosie took hold of Nell’s arm affectionately. ‘It’s great to see you. When did you arrive in London?’

      ‘A short while ago. From Paris.’

      ‘Oh. What were you doing there?’

      ‘I had a business meeting this morning. I came in last night on the French Concorde from New York…with Johnny Fortune. He’s in the midst of planning a concert for next spring – the French adore him, you know. Anyway, we had to get together with the impresario involved, but once everything was clarified and the meeting more or less finished, I rushed out to the airport and grabbed the first plane to London.’

      ‘How long are you staying?’ Gavin asked.

      ‘Just a few days. Johnny’s coming in on Thursday morning. He has a concert at the Albert Hall on Saturday night, so I’ve got my hands full. After that I’ll be heading back to New York, once I’ve seen