Chapter 156: Elizabeth on the Offensive
During the summer season, alongside the release of one blockbuster after another, gossip columns were just as busy filling the papers.
And in Britain, nothing delighted the public more than royal scandals.
In the Daily Mirror—a British tabloid as notorious as The Sun—one particular piece of sensational gossip sent shockwaves through the royal household:
Sarah Ferguson, the wife of Prince Andrew, the Queen's youngest son, was photographed vacationing with a bald American tycoon. The two appeared intimately close—she was topless, while the businessman was captured kissing her toes.
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At a riverside villa in London's Hammersmith district, Catherine Zeta-Jones stared at the photos in the Daily Mirror, disbelief written all over her face.
"It looks like they only separated earlier this year," she said. "The Queen must be furious again."
Aaron shook his head. "I really don't understand—why haven't you abolished the monarchy yet?"
"Keeping it around just to manufacture scandals?" he continued. "Prince Andrew's been wearing that green hat for a long time. And if you look at his father and his brother—one's worse than the other."
"The royal family's relationships are a complete mess, yet people still put up with it."
After all, hadn't Prince Charles's infamous phone recordings come out earlier? And Princess Diana's scandals as well?
The chaos of the British royal family was no less dramatic than the entertainment industry itself.
Catherine froze for a moment, then climbed straight into Aaron's lap and laughed.
"You're actually thinking about overthrowing the British monarchy?"
"That's our Queen, you know."
"Mmm," Aaron replied, kissing her lips without hesitation. "Exactly. Britain doesn't need a king or queen at all."
"Not necessarily," Catherine said, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing against him affectionately.
"The public still supports the monarchy."
"And besides," she added with a grin, "reading royal scandals over tea is one of the people's favorite pastimes."
"That does make sense," Aaron admitted. Americans, after all, were no less obsessed with scandals involving those in power.
"All right," Catherine said, kissing him on the cheek as she stood up. "I'll go prepare something to eat."
Aaron picked up a copy of the Financial Times, flipping to an article analyzing Britain's economy and the European Exchange Rate Mechanism.
Britain had joined the predecessor of the European Union—the European Community—and with it, the ERM as well.
The European Exchange Rate Mechanism (ERM) meant that Western European currencies no longer pegged themselves to gold or the U.S. dollar as they once had.
Instead, they were pegged to one another. Each currency was allowed to fluctuate only within a fixed band. Once exchange rates exceeded the permitted range, national central banks were obligated to intervene—buying or selling their own currency—to stabilize it.
The problem was that Germany's economy was booming, while Britain's was stagnating.
Yet the pound was required to remain above 1:2.778 against the Deutsche Mark.
Britain's national strength was steadily declining, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to sustain such a fixed exchange rate. Maintaining high interest rates to prop up the pound was proving unbearably costly.
Britain wanted to devalue the pound to boost exports and ease economic pressure, which would have required Germany to lower Mark interest rates in order to comply with the ERM framework.
But Germany—especially with the massive reconstruction of East Germany—was overheating economically. Its strength was only growing, and it had no intention of risking higher inflation by cutting interest rates.
"The pound really is overvalued right now," Aaron muttered, leaning back on the sofa.
"It's trading at 2.82 to the Mark and nearly 1.9 to the dollar."
Aaron knew about the 1992 sterling crisis—the collapse of the pound was inevitable.
He just didn't remember exactly when it would happen.
Still, that didn't matter.
He decided to have his people monitor the pound closely.
Once the exchange rate against the dollar climbed to 2.0, it would be time to launch a major short.
After all, the legendary Quantum Fund would soon lead the assault on sterling.
As Catherine Zeta-Jones left to attend promotional events for Christopher Columbus: The Discovery of the New World,
Aaron also began preparing his return to the United States.
The Mask of Zorro was about to begin production.
---
At the Buckinghamshire filming site of Four Weddings and a Funeral, a wedding scene was being shot.
Aaron watched Hugh Grant on set.
Strangely enough, the role most people would remember Grant for in the future would be that romantic comedy opposite Julia Roberts—Notting Hill.
That evening, in Sophie Marceau's hotel room, Aaron rolled off her and lay beside her.
"Darling, I'll head back to the U.S. first," he said.
"Once you wrap up Four Weddings and a Funeral, come straight over."
Sophie smiled and kissed his chest, resting her chin on him.
"That might not work. I received a really good script in Paris."
"A French film?" Aaron asked, running his fingers through her chestnut hair.
"Not another one of those erotic projects your ex used to make, I hope?"
"You're moving toward Hollywood now. You have to be careful," he added seriously.
"You don't want to be typecast as a sex symbol. In Hollywood, once you're locked into a category, it's very hard to break out."
"Look at Sharon Stone," he continued.
"After Basic Instinct, she's already being labeled an erotic star."
Basic Instinct had made Stone an overnight sensation, and her salary for Paramount's upcoming erotic thriller Sliver had jumped to $2.5 million.
By comparison, Nicole Kidman—despite the massive success of Ghost—was earning only $2 million per romantic lead role.
Even less for prestige dramas.
"Don't worry," Sophie said lightly.
"It's just a French romance—nothing explicit. A newcomer adapted the script, and I liked it."
She propped her head on her hand.
After spending more than half a year in the U.S., she had already learned how conservative Hollywood was about sexuality compared to Europe.
"That's good," Aaron said, patting her gently.
---
On the overnight flight from London to New York, Aaron sat in first class, casually flipping through a magazine.
A headline caught his eye—Whitney Houston had married an unknown Black singer named Bobby Brown.
He wasn't particularly interested in Whitney herself, but it reminded him of the action film she had made with Kevin Costner—The Bodyguard—which was scheduled for release that Thanksgiving.
Costner was currently earning $12 million for The Mask of Zorro.
If The Bodyguard had already been released, that figure would easily have climbed to $15 million.
"Aaron—what a coincidence!"
He looked up.
Standing in front of him was a tall, strikingly sexy woman.
"…Hurley?"
It was Elizabeth Hurley.