The Body in the Cast by Katherine Hall Page Read Free Book Online Page B

reason to be jealous. I didn’t take her boyfriend away. Bobby Conklin never even looked at her. She just told everybody they were an item.”
    â€œAnyway, be careful, Faith. Think of Corny’s famous temper as one of those inactive volcanos that suddenly erupts and
wipes out a village or two with no warning. On the surface, she may look like a reasonable adult—and sure, she has a good job. Being a production assistant on one of Reed’s movies is something people would kill for. Still, I’m sure you were the last school chum she wanted to run into—during this lifetime, for a start—and puffs of telltale steam may start to escape.”
    â€œYou’re waxing very metaphorical for a business major. And I think you’re exaggerating more than a tad. It was all years ago. She was quite cordial, and we’re going to get together tomorrow. It will be fun to find out all about everybody in the movie. And I’m going to make a conscious effort to avoid calling her Corny, which was not the greatest nickname. Parents should think of these things.”
    â€œSpeaking of parents, her mother hated you, too. How could you forget Corny’s birthday party when Mrs. Stuyvesant—”
    â€œEnough!” Faith shrieked in protest. Sometimes Hope’s memory was a little too good.
    As she hung up the phone, Tom mumbled, “Who or what is Corny?” from his side of the bed, where he’d been drowsily reading Paul Tillich.
    â€œAn old school friend who’s working on the movie. Her real name is Cornelia.”
    â€œWere you and Hope the only ones at that school to have normal names? What was with those people—Buffy, Kiki, Dede, Muffin?”
    â€œWell, dear, they’d already used up the good names for the dogs,” Faith countered archly, and turned off the light.
    Â 
    It wasn’t until the following week that Cornelia and Faith were able to get together. Faith had reluctantly risen a little earlier to give herself some leeway to change her mind a few times about what to wear for the reunion. Sure, she’d told Hope bygones were bygones, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be caught in last year’s hemlines, no matter what Anna Wintour said about anything goes.
    She settled on a charcoal Anne Klein knit turtleneck, an
oversized matching cable-knit cardigan, and black wool crepe pants. Serviceable and chic. She was going to be working and so it wouldn’t do to show up in silk. Over this, she’d wear her gray-and-white large-checked blanket coat today, instead of the Eddie Bauer down parka she’d reluctantly adopted as the indispensable, albeit ungainly, mainstay of her Aleford winter wardrobe. And she was still usually cold. Corny looked her best in jodhpurs and the like, Faith remembered, and had worn something similar the other day. Faith already had a million questions for her, starting with what Maxwell Reed was really like. But she’d phrase it in such a subtle way that Cornelia wouldn’t realize it was a question she’d been asked hundreds of times before.
    Alan Morris had introduced Faith to the director the first day, and Reed had come into the tent for lunch once; other times, he ate from trays reverently fetched by one of the PAs. The day he ate with the crew, faithful Cornelia at his side, he’d complimented Faith extravagantly on the meal, adding that if he wasn’t careful, he’d gain a lot of weight in the next few weeks. “But of course I won’t be,” he’d said in chagrin, then turned away with sudden intensity—as if he’d finally realized how he wanted to end the film and had to write it down before he forgot.
    During the shoot, Amy was spending mornings with Arlene Maclean, where Faith picked her up after lunch, taking her back to work for the afternoon. She didn’t want to bring the baby in the canteen truck, and what if she suddenly started screaming during a