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“A good practice,” she said. “Do you like me?”

“I admired you from the moment we rehearsed our first scene,” he said. “Now, I like you, too.”

“Can you tap-dance?” she asked.

“Is that a euphemism?”

She laughed. “I tend to call things what they are and not employ euphemisms. I mean, can you tap-dance?”

“As it happens, yes. I learned from an old music hall performer — that’s the English version of vaudeville — during a tour of a play we did together.”

“Do you sing?”

“I’m untrained, but I do.”

“Some of the cast are talking about doing a show for everybody on our last night on location. Why don’t you and I work up a number together?”

“I think we’ve already worked up a number together,” he replied, cupping a breast in his hand and pinching her nipple.

“Well, yes, but I don’t think we’d better do this for an audience. People might talk.”

He laughed loudly. “Yeah, I guess they would, wouldn’t they? What sort of number did you have in mind?”

“Well, being a Brit, you must know ‘Burlington Bertie.’ That’s music hall, isn’t it?”

“It is, and it’s one of the numbers my friend taught me. I can choreograph it for us.”

“Like Fred Astaire and Judy Garland?”

“Better.”

“I expect wardrobe could come up with some costumes.”

“I expect so,” he agreed.

“Let’s keep it a secret, though; we’ll surprise everybody.”

“Where will we rehearse?”

“Late at night, in my room,” she said.

“Sounds perfect.”

“No, this is perfect,” she said, climbing on top of him and guiding him inside her again.

“I can’t argue with that,” Vance said.

This time they both climaxed.

That night before dinner, when they had kissed the girls good night, Rick told Glenna about his conversation with Susan Stafford about Vance. “It’s nice that she likes him,” he said.

“Yes, it is, and he likes her, too.”

“He told you so?”

“He didn’t have to; they were fucking in the bathroom an hour ago.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope. I caught a glimpse of her walking in on him while he was shaving, and he was stark naked. And then the door closed.”

“Wow.”

“They were in the tub together, too; I could hear the sloshing. They must have got a lot of water on the floor.”

“I guess it’s the old fuck-your-costar-on-location tradition.”

“Could be. I’ll bet they’ll sit next to each other at dinner tonight.”

“Well, it’s nice that they have a diversion while we’re here; makes for a happier shoot, I think.”

“It does, if they continue to get along,” Glenna said. “If they don’t, then your job could get a lot tougher.”

“Ow,” Rick said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Better watch for signs,” Glenna said. “You don’t want one or both of them stalking off the set if there’s a tiff.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Rick said.

“You know, it’s a while since you and I have had a bath together,” Glenna said.

“Let’s remedy that after dinner.”

“It’s a date.”

Vance and Susie sat next to each other at dinner.

22

Sid Brooks was packing for the trip to Washington when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Alice.”

“Finally.”

“There’s been a line for the use of the phones.”

“How’s the shoot going?”

“Fine. You’ll be pleased with how your lines sound. How was Alan’s memorial service?”

“It was about what you’d expect: the nineteen unfriendly witnesses were all there but not more than a couple of dozen other people, none of them well-known to the public. No actors, no writers, no producers or directors; no representatives of the studios.”

“I’m not surprised. When are you off to Washington?”

“I’m being picked up in an hour.”

“Are you still determined to be an unfriendly witness, Sid?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Isn’t that what caused Alan to kill himself?”

“No, I think it was his decision to be a friendly witness that made him do that. He was going to name me, among others. He said he had made a deal to name only people the committee already knew about.”

“So the committee knows about you?”

“Apparently so.”

“Sid, if you refuse to talk they’re going to destroy you.”

“No, they won’t; they’ll just convict us of contempt of Congress, then we’ll appeal and the Supreme Court will overturn the convictions. Then it will be over.”

“Over? Do you seriously believe that?”

“What else can the committee do to us?”

“Not the committee; the industry. Nobody’s going to give you work, if you do this. You’ll be branded forever as a Communist.”

“A lot of people will still give me work; there are sympathetic employers in town, you know.”

“You’re deluding yourself, Sid. You’ll be destroyed, and that will destroy us.”

“How will that destroy us?”

“I’m not a Communist, Sid, and I don’t want to be thought of as one. If you’re shunned in the community, I’ll be shunned, too, don’t you see?”

“Alice, I have some more packing to do, so let’s talk about this when I’m back from Washington. It shouldn’t be more than a week.”

“Good-bye, Sid, and good luck; you’re going to need it from now on.” She hung up.

Sid hung up, too, then the phone rang again. “Hello?”

“Sid, it’s Hy Greenbaum.” Hy was his agent and a powerful one.

“Good morning, Hy.”

“You’re off to Washington this morning?”

“In less than an hour.”

“We have to talk, Sid.”

“Okay, let’s talk.”

“I had a meeting early this morning with the chief investigator of HUAC.”

“I’ll bet that was a nice chat.”

“Did you know that Alan James was going to testify as a friendly witness?”

“Yes, he told me at dinner the night before he killed himself.”

“Did he mention that he was going to name half a dozen people?”

“Yes.”

“Did he mention that you were one of them?”

“Yes.”

“And you understand that means the committee already knows about you from some other source?”

“I understand that; all the people Alan was going to name are known to the committee to be party members.”

“Sid, if you walk into that hearing you’re going to be walking into a buzz saw.”

“I don’t think so, Hy; we’ve talked this through with our lawyers, and we think the Supreme Court will back us in this.”

“And what about when you get back out here? Do you think the studios are going to back you?”

“I think they’ll remain neutral.”

“Sid, I talked to two studio heads this morning. They’re leaving tomorrow for New York. There’s going to be a meeting of all the studio heads at the Waldorf in a few days, and the consensus is, they’re going to institute a blacklist.”

“But Hy, Eric Johnston, the head of their group, the Motion Picture Association, has already said publicly there will never be a blacklist.”

“Johnston doesn’t have a vote. I’m telling you what’s going to happen.”