Page 29 of The Gathering Storm

‘Sell it, split the cash fifty-fifty.’

‘Suits me,’ said Lennie.

‘Al?’

‘Deal,’ said Feinstein. ‘Let’s get our lawyers on to it, make it watertight. We don’t want anything coming back to bite us in the ass five years down the line.’

Doris stood up. ‘I’ll talk to Dean. You’ll talk to Rose?’ she asked Lennie. ‘Is she getting another agent? No offence, Len, but she needs someone who knows what they’re doing.’

Now, how could I possibly take offence at that? Lennie asked himself. ‘As soon as she’s ready to start work again, I’ll see she signs on with somebody.’

‘I’d like to take her on myself, but I don’t think it’d be wise for me to rep both of them. Michael’s crazy,’ she added shortly. ‘That gal’s going to be big.’ And with a nod to each of them, she went out.

Feinstein fumbled in his drawer and pulled out a box of cigars, offered one to Lennie, who shook his head, and went through the business of clipping and lighting it. Lennie didn’t know if it was one of the so-called Cohibas, but it smelt like a lit garbage heap.

‘Now,’ Al said, when he’d got it going, ‘talk to me about Rosie. We got to get her back in harness soon as possible.’

‘I agree. She needs to work to keep her out of trouble. A big, meaty part – something like Falcon.’

‘Yeah, another historical,’ Al mused. ‘She looks good in all that gold stuff, big skirts and headdresses and all.’ He drummed his fat fingers on the desk. ‘You got my juices going with that Tony and Cleo talk.’

‘Rose is too young. Cleopatra was a mature woman – in her forties, I believe.’

‘Hell, that don’t matter. In Hollywood she can be any age you like. We could call it Queen of the Nile.’

‘Good title,’ said Lennie, cautiously.

‘How about,’ he wrote it across the air in block capitals, ‘Queen of the Nile, with Rose Morland as Cleopatra and Leslie Howard as Mark Antony?’

Lennie winced. ‘Mark Antony was a highly successful, battle-hardened Roman general. Do you think perhaps—?’

‘You could be right. Needs someone a bit more – rugged. Less polite. Less British.’

‘I still think Rose is too young for Cleopatra. When she has a few more movies under her belt, she could come back to it. The story will still be there.’

‘Hmmph. But we gotta get something big, sweeping, epic for her. What else you got in British history?’

‘What about the civil war?’ Lennie hazarded.

Al gave him a boiled look. ‘I said British history.’

‘They had a civil war as well. Cavaliers and Roundheads?’

‘Oh, yeah, I heard o’ them.’ He chomped on the cigar. ‘I like it. The guys with the long hair and the lace, and the other guys with the buzzcut and the bad attitude. Who won in the end?’

‘The ugly ones.’

’But all the time you want the pretty boys to win, I love it.’

‘Two families on opposing sides, the son of one falls in love with the daughter of the other.’

‘Your basic Romeo and Juliet.’ Al nodded, almost gleeful. ‘Is there a book?’

‘There is one I know of, called The Leopards and the Lilies. By Celia Hardwick. It’s a famous novel back in England.’

Al thought. ‘Is that too much like The Falcon and the Rose?’

‘It’s a reference to the English royal flag. The lilies are the fleur-de-lys, and in heraldry, lions can only be called lions when they are rampant, otherwise they’re called leopards, so since the English lions are passant regardant they’re—’

Al waved all that away. ‘We can talk about a title later. Get me the book – better still, give me a précis and get the book to the writers.’ He gave Lennie one of his narrowest looks, though the cigar wasn’t in his mouth at that moment. ‘You’re gonna want to put some money into this, aren’t you, my boy? This one’s a banker. Rose on horseback – they rode horses in those days, right?’

‘Horses everywhere,’ Lennie agreed, amused.

‘Any battles?’

‘As many as you like. Lances, bows and arrows, swords. Cavalry charges.’

‘Yeah.’ Al sighed with satisfaction, seeing it in the air in front of him. Then his gaze sharpened again. ‘You’re gonna want to make a big, fat investment in this, I know it.’

Lennie didn’t say yes or no, but he knew he could not leave Rose in her present fragile state, or indeed before the divorce had gone through. Work was undoubtedly the best thing to put her on a steady course, and he would have to stay at least until she was properly engaged with a new project. A sweeping, epic civil-war movie with her as star would be a terrific boost to her career – as long as she didn’t fall for whoever they cast opposite her and start another foolish affair. He would need to stay involved with the film until he was sure she was all right. And that was going to mean putting some money into it. But Al Feinstein was a sharp operator, and he was not wrong. As an investment, it seemed like a sound one.

England – the real one, where Yorkshire and Morland Place and Polly were – would have to wait.