Fame and Wuthering Heights

The girl stepped away from the window. She was extremely pretty, Tish noticed, with a mane of glossy, dark hair that shone like a Herbal Essences advertisement. She was also woefully underdressed for the Derbyshire spring weather, in a thin white cotton blouse, fringed suede miniskirt and bare legs. She looked like an extremely lost Pocahontas.

‘Are you the owner?’ she asked, extending an elegant, French-manicured hand.

‘Sort of,’ said Tish. ‘Not exactly. It’s a bit complicated. I’m Letitia Crewe.’

‘Rainbow,’ said the girl, shaking hands warmly.

‘That’s your name?’ said Tish, realizing too late how rude it sounded. Luckily, the girl didn’t seem to mind.

‘I know,’ she grinned. ‘What can I say? My parents were Californian hippies. Still are. I actually have a sister called Sunshine, believe it or not.’

Not sure how she was supposed to react to this piece of information, Tish said nothing.

‘Look, do you mind if I come in?’ said Rainbow, breaking the silence. ‘I’ve got a business proposal I’d like to make you and it is super-cold out here.’

Five minutes later, having convinced a deeply suspicious Mrs Drummond to go into Castleton and leave the two of them alone, Tish made a pot of Lapsang tea and sat down with Rainbow at the kitchen table.

‘So, what’s this all about?’

‘Simple,’ said Rainbow. ‘I want your house.’

‘Oh.’ Tish looked disappointed. ‘I’m sorry but, as I think my housekeeper explained, Loxley isn’t for sale. It’s been in my family for centuries.’

‘Oh, I know that,’ said Rainbow, taking a sip of her tea and almost gagging. It tasted like burned rubber. ‘I don’t want to buy it. I want to borrow it.’

Tish brightened. ‘Lease it, you mean?’ Though she hadn’t intended on doing it so soon, it was certainly part of her plan to find a reliable, paying tenant for Loxley eventually. Admittedly, she hadn’t pictured this person as a squaw-like twenty-something American hippy named Rainbow, but that was no reason to look a gift horse in the mouth.

‘Not exactly,’ said Rainbow. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a business card and handed it to Tish.

‘FSL Location Scouts,’ Tish read aloud. ‘You work for a film company?’

‘We work for a bunch of film companies,’ said Rainbow. ‘Right now I’m working for one of the biggest directors in Hollywood. You’ve heard of Dorian Rasmirez of course?’

Tish looked blank.

‘Oh, come on,’ said Rainbow incredulously. ‘Love and Regrets? Sixteen Days?’ In Rainbow’s world, not having heard of Dorian Rasmirez was like not knowing the Pope or the President of the United States.

‘I don’t go to the cinema very often,’ said Tish.

‘Well, take my word for it, Rasmirez is huge. He’s about to shoot a remake of Wuthering Heights.’

‘Oh,’ said Tish, ‘I adore that book! How wonderful.’

‘Uh-huh,’ said Rainbow. ‘His production company, Dracula, hired my company to find him a suitable location for the shoot. I think this place would be perfect as Thrushcross Grange.’

‘Really?’ For a moment, Tish was flattered. But reality quickly kicked in. Loxley was already in a serious state of disrepair. The last thing it needed was a film crew running around the place, lugging heavy equipment and ricocheting off the furniture. Tish remembered reading a horror story in one of the Sunday papers about the damage done to stately homes used in film shoots. Groombridge Place in Kent had apparently taken months to restore after Pride and Prejudice.

‘I’m not sure,’ she said hesitantly to Rainbow. ‘What would it involve?’

‘Well, we’d need the complete run of the house. You’d have to move out. And we’d want to start filming as soon as possible, next week ideally. I know Mr Rasmirez’s budget is pretty tight on this project, so the actors, cast and crew would all live here during the shoot, or as many of them as we can squeeze in anyway—’

‘Let me stop you there,’ said Tish. ‘I’m afraid there’s no way I would consider moving out.’ Memories of Jago’s squatter friends were still fresh in her mind. A few more weeks and the damage they caused to Loxley might have been irreparable.

Rainbow hesitated. Normally it was an absolute prerequisite that a location be empty before filming could begin. Partly for insurance purposes, and partly because directors typically did not take kindly to having nervous homeowners getting under their feet, complaining about their work and generally making a nuisance of themselves. But in this case, it might be the lesser of two evils. Rainbow had presented Dorian with dozens of locations over the past three months, and he’d rejected all of them. He was desperate to start shooting, but his list of specifications was insanely specific and his willingness to compromise nil. Not only was Loxley literally perfect as the Grange, but the farm over the hill might just work as their Wuthering Heights too (L-shaped, grey stone, forbidding, isolated). Rainbow couldn’t afford to let Tish say no.

‘Well, we could talk about that,’ she said vaguely. ‘You might not have to move. Did I mention that the movie stars Viorel Hudson? I sure wouldn’t mind sharing a house with him.’ She winked conspiratorially, but if dropping Vio’s name had been intended as an incentive, it failed miserably.

‘Viorel Hudson?’ Tish struggled to place the name. ‘Wasn’t he that Romanian boy, the one that Martha Hudson adopted in the eighties? Is he an actor now, then?’

‘Just a little bit,’ said Rainbow. She tried a different tack. ‘Of course, you’d be well compensated.’

This approach was much more effective.

‘How well?’ said Tish. In her mind she began drawing lines: She wouldn’t do it for less than seventy-five thousand. It wasn’t worth the risk to the building. Or maybe fifty thousand should be the cutoff?

‘I’d have to talk to my client before I could give you a final number,’ said Rainbow. ‘But it would be somewhere in the region of a hundred thousand.’

‘A hundred thousand. Dollars?’

‘Sterling. Per week.’

‘Per week?’ Tish’s voice had suddenly gone up an octave. ‘I see. And how many, er … how many weeks would you, er … would you want the, er …?’

‘A minimum of eight,’ said Rainbow. ‘Possibly twelve. Depends on a bunch of factors – how soon we could start being the main one.’

Tish struggled to conceal her elation. A hundred grand a week, for a minimum of eight weeks! That was almost enough to put them back in the black. She wouldn’t have to sell Home Farm, not this year anyway. Even better, if they started shooting right away, she could be back in Romania by the end of the summer. The thought of returning to Oradea to face Michel and Fleur in person filled her with dread. But the longer she postponed it, the worse she knew it would get. The kids need me, she told herself. I can’t hide out here forever. Curcubeu won’t run itself. For the first time she realized that the girl’s name was Rainbow – the same name as her children’s home. Maybe her coming here was a sign?

Rainbow pulled out her BlackBerry and started making notes. ‘Do you happen to know the name of your neighbours who own that farm over the hill?’

‘Home Farm?’ said Tish.

‘I guess. I only saw one house over there, grey, kinda ugly? If you could convince whoever owns it to let us shoot there too, we’d pay you a commission fee over and above whatever you make on this place.’

‘Actually, Home Farm belongs to the Loxley estate.’

Rainbow beamed. ‘It does?’

Thinking on her feet, Tish added, ‘Yes. But filming there might be a little trickier. It’s a working farm, you see, with sitting tenants. We rely on them to provide a large part of our income –’ about sixty-eight pence last year –‘and the summer months are a very important time. I don’t know if I’d be comfortable, what with all the upheaval—’

‘We’ll double the fee,’ said Rainbow, not batting an eyelid.

Tish suddenly felt faint. Double eight hundred. That was one point six million.

‘Interesting,’ she squeaked. ‘Well, I’ll, er, I’ll certainly think about it. Perhaps you’d better speak to your client. Mr Ramon, was it?’

‘Rasmirez,’ said Rainbow. Was this girl for real?

‘Exactly. Let’s see what Mr Rasmirez says. When you’re in a position to make me a firm offer, we’ll talk again.’