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18 |                               NEIL MAVRICK                 

She homed in on the obligatory table and joined the short queue of wannabe actresses waiting to register. Once she had given her name and been handed her sides—a short script to use later—and a form to complete, she looked around for a chair but, seeing none that were free, decided to perch on the edge of the stage to complete the form.

That done, Rachel looked around at the other girls waiting their turn, nodding to one or two whom she recognised from previous auditions. She’d never get used to doing this, but ever since she was a little girl and realised that there were such people as movie stars, she set her heart on joining them. And how! The burning ambition made her feel like screaming sometimes as the breakthrough she so desperately sought remained frustratingly out of reach.

She felt the usual butterflies in her stomach, but they were worse on this occasion.

Admittedly, that experience on her way to the audition was no help. At least twice she had the strangest feeling that someone was following her. She checked, but no one was there—not that she could see, anyway. Must have been her imagination but—she shivered a little—it was creepy. Cool it. Think about something else.

She tried to. Was it really only twenty-one months since her arrival in Hollywood? Sure, trying to get into the movie business was still new to her, but she seemed to have been trawling around these wretched auditions forever. Thank goodness for the sanity of her job at the burger bar! That at least allowed her to survive, just, though money was tight. Boy, was it tight! If she couldn’t find a part soon . . . No! She shook her head. She wasn’t going there.

Today, she was wearing one of her standard audition outfits; a tank top and mini skirt—not too short—and shoes with four-inch heels. They emphasised her slim figure and long legs. She’d left her hair loose so that the dark brown curls tumbled well below her shoulders and, as usual, wore little in the way of makeup. She was always grateful for a God-given beauty—well, since becoming aware of such things as a teenager—needing little to augment her looks. A light application of eye shadow and mascara to heighten the effect of wide brown eyes, plus a delicate shade of pink for her lips, usually sufficed.

Of course, for clubbing or other nights out, she would pump up the volume some.