Cat threw Isabel a warning glance.
“And then, in another scene,” Bruno continued, “I had to do a fire job. Asbestos clothing, flames, the works. They had me toppling over and ending up in the drink. I almost hit the rescue boat when I went in, but it didn’t show up in the shot so the director didn’t make me do it again.”
Cat smiled appreciatively. “Bruno says that filming is very dull work. He says that they do the same thing over and over again, just to get it right.”
Bruno nodded in agreement. “It’s a tough business, even if you aren’t a stunt man. You work for the dough, you really do. Except for the body doubles. That’s easy money.”
Jamie was intrigued. “Body doubles?”
Bruno grinned. “They’re the people who stand in for actors’ body parts—an arm, maybe, or a foot—depending.” He hesitated, looking at Cat as if for a signal. She smiled encouragingly, and he was emboldened. “And nude scenes. You know, bedroom stuff. When they want to show a bit of flesh. You don’t have to show the face, and so they use the body double rather than the actor.” He turned to Isabel and winked. “Know what I mean?”
It occurred to Isabel that she should wink back, and she did. Jamie saw this, and his mouth opened as if he was about to say something. Then Bruno winked at Isabel again.
THEY BOTH HAD DIFFICULTY getting to sleep. Isabel knew that Jamie was still awake by the sound of his breathing; once he was asleep he breathed so quietly that it was as if nobody was there.
“Oh well,” she muttered.
Jamie turned. He put an arm gently about her shoulder, pushing the sheet and blanket aside. “You behaved,” he said. “In fact, I thought you behaved very nicely.”
She was relieved. She had made a supreme effort—for the sake of her relationship with Cat—and it was a relief to know that at least Jamie had been impressed. “That wink,” she said.
He chuckled. “Yes. I saw it. What did it mean?”
“A wink is usually a sign of complicity,” said Isabel. “It says, ‘We’re on the same side, aren’t we?’ ”
Jamie sighed. “It’s not going to work, is it? And do you know what? I feel rather sorry for him. He may be pretty keen on her.”
Isabel feared that he was right. “He’s rougher trade than her usual boyfriends,” she said. “I hope that when it comes unstuck he won’t be difficult.”
Jamie confessed that this had been worrying him too. “There’s something about him,” he said. “Something rather odd. You know how it is with some people, there’s a sense of their being on the edge. Wound up like a spring.”
Isabel knew what he meant. She had sensed it too, and it had worried her. “Do you think we should warn her?” She felt the weight of his forearm on her shoulder; it was a reassuring feeling
Jamie was silent for a moment. Then he spoke. “No. We mustn’t. She won’t take well to any interference. She’ll have to discover it by herself.”
Isabel knew that he was right. The decision not to interfere was counterintuitive though, and she knew that it was going to be hard. The arrival of Bruno was potentially disastrous; even saying his name was proving difficult now, so strongly negative were the associations.
“At least we won’t have to wait long. It probably won’t last,” she said, drowsily.
“Or
Jamie’s remark jolted Isabel back to wakefulness. “What?”
Jamie explained. “His job is pretty dangerous, isn’t it? Flaming jackets, oil, molasses … tightropes. All very dangerous. High life insurance rates, I would have thought. Poor chap.”
The last two words, thought Isabel, were vital. They converted a heartless remark into a sympathetic one, showing the power of small words to do big things.
CHAPTER TEN
JOCK SAID he would be at the entrance to the Old Greenhouses at eleven o’clock,” Minty had said to Isabel over the telephone. “He’s very punctual. He’ll be there.”
Isabel had asked Minty to describe him. “There may be other people there,” she said. “I don’t want to sidle up to the wrong man. Not that I’d really
Minty did not find this amusing. “What does he look like? Tall,” she said. “Very good-looking. The sort of man whom married women fall for.” She waited for a reaction, but Isabel said nothing. “Which is why I did,” she added lamely. “I know, I know …”
“Anybody can succumb to temptation,” said Isabel. “It’s easy enough.”
“I can’t see you giving in to temptation,” said Minty. “I really can’t.”
Isabel was not sure what to make of this remark. It could be complimentary or otherwise; Minty might be suggesting that she was too strong—which would be complimentary—or too unlikely to attract temptation, which would hardly be flattering.
“You don’t know me all that well,” said Isabel. There was mild reproach in her response, but Minty did not appear to pick up on it, instead asking Isabel to contact her at the office once she and Gordon were back from Skye. “I may not be able to talk freely,” she said. “For obvious reasons. But please tell me what happened.”
Isabel reached the Botanical Gardens slightly early. It was a warm morning, the air still and the sky unclouded. Edinburgh could not count on many days of that sort, even in a good summer, and people were quick to respond. The bus down to Stockbridge was full of men in tee-shirts or with their sleeves rolled up, the women in thin cotton blouses. The person sitting beside Isabel faced out of the window, the sun on her face, her eyes closed, and
