Brilliance (37 page)

‘That’s true,’ he admitted evenly.

‘I know that two-thirds of the film is already in the can and it will be a financial loss to have to change the leading actress at midstream, but you’ll have to give the role of Marie Antoinette to someone else. I believe this movie is going to be your best yet and I don’t want to ruin it for you.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘You have been working everything out, haven’t you?’

‘I’ve scarcely slept these past two nights and have thought of nothing else except this dreadful situation.’

‘No wonder you look exhausted. Be sure you sleep well tonight. I want you on the set tomorrow and in costume for the wedding scene of
The Tragic Queen
.’

‘I can’t do that! I’ve told you! You must get another actress!’

‘You said yourself that this is to be my best movie yet and you are the only one I want to play the part.’

She held his gaze steadily. ‘In spite of everything?’

He nodded. ‘Everything? There was nothing.’

That night he would have denied himself and held back from making love to her in her present exhausted state, but as he slid into bed with her she embraced him amorously, arching her body against his. Then he took her with such passion that she was reminded of when they had first made love. Then she had wanted him to drive Philippe out of her mind and heart. Now he had the same purpose with her.

The making of
The Tragic Queen
went ahead. Some of the action was filmed on location when Daniel and Lisette, together with Jim as well as the leading actor, three assistants and a motor van full of equipment, went to Versailles. They were not permitted to take any film indoors, but were allowed two days in the park. Fortunately the weather was warm and sunny and not a moment of filming was wasted. In costume, Lisette and the actor playing Louis VI strolled in the park, descended the great flight of steps to act out a scene among the potted orange trees. Then she and Ronald Davis, who was playing Count Axel von Ferson, the love of the Queen’s life, danced together in the open-air ballroom where once cascades of water had added beauty to the scene. Again on her own she sat in the grove while the camera captured her horror as one of the assistants in costume came to give her the terrible warning. After two days all that Daniel wanted had been taken and while the others returned to England he and Lisette went to see Monsieur Monier at his Paris chambers.

‘Yes, as I informed you, Madame Shaw,’ the lawyer said, ‘the date of the divorce coming to court has been set for the fifth of September. Unfortunately I have not been successful in sparing you attendance. You will have to be there.’

Lisette nodded resignedly. It was a day to dread, but she would have to face it. Worst of all was that she and Daniel, in spite of their efforts, could not seem to recapture the old harmony between them. It was fear of losing her on his side and bitter regret on hers that she had ever met Philippe again.

Before leaving Paris they arranged to meet Maurice, with whom Lisette had been in correspondence ever since Philippe had arranged the luncheon for them. Her half-brother had been eager to meet Daniel from the start and Lisette was glad that most of the conversation passed between them, because she felt intensely weary and was thankful not to take part.

Yet when filming of Daniel’s epic continued in England she showed none of her inner weariness and was unaware that with her emotions at their peak she was giving the performance of her life in her role of the Queen. The final scene was filmed when she sat in the cart on the way to the guillotine, her hands roped together behind her back. There were women in the crowd of extras instructed to shout abuse and shake their fists, who had tears in their eyes at her tragic appearance. They had to wipe them away before Daniel shouted, ‘Action!’

Inevitably a report appeared in the British newspapers that the well-known animated picture actress, Lisette Decourt, had been cited as co-respondent under her married name in a forthcoming French divorce case.

When the time came for Lisette to return to Paris and attend court Daniel would have gone with her, but she was adamant that he should not come.

‘You know the truth of what happened,’ she said in appeal. ‘I don’t want you to hear any twisted version of what took place.’ Her voice faltered. ‘I could not bear it.’

He had to accept her wish. Joanna went with her instead and Lisette was thankful for her friend’s support throughout the ordeal. It was also a comfort to her that Maurice turned up to show his loyalty to her.

In court Philippe looked thin and haggard and did not once glance in her direction. His American wife, a handsome woman with a commanding air, gave each of them a single vicious glare and afterwards avoided looking at either of them for the rest of the case. Lisette was given the chance to deny everything of which she and Philippe were accused, but the fact that she was an actress made her denial and her accusation of attempted rape less convincing to those who still thought theatrical people were of dubious reputation. Yet some of her admirers were there too, Englishwomen who happened to be on vacation or in Paris for some other reason and they gave her sympathetic glances in court and applauded her outside as she got into the hired motorcar with Joanna. Nevertheless, Ellen Bonnard won her case and the divorce was granted.

Daniel arrived the same day. He put his arms about Lisette.

‘Now I’m taking you home,’ he said. She did not see the conspiratorial look that he exchanged with Joanna, having told her his plans before she had left England with his wife.

‘I wish you all the best,’ Joanna said with a smile, going off on her own to journey back to England.

‘Why aren’t we travelling with her?’ Lisette asked.

‘We’re going to Lyon. You told me yourself that your tenants had given up the house some time ago and I have had it put to rights again. Most important of all, you need a rest after all you have been through.’

Her reaction was to weep with thankfulness. Being in her childhood surroundings again would be a time of healing for her after all the anguish of past months.

The gates of the house stood open for them when they arrived. A maid, watching out for them, swept open the door for them and bobbed a curtsey.

‘Welcome, monsieur and madame!’

The house had been redecorated in its original colours and some damaged furniture had been restored. Items of value, which had been stored for security during the tenants’ occupancy, were back in their rightful place. Lisette flitted though all the downstairs rooms before returning to throw her arms around Daniel’s neck, her face radiant.

‘It’s so good to be here with you!’

‘It will not be long for me, but you can stay until you feel able to come back to the cameras.’

Daniel stayed two weeks and during this time he and Lisette were able to renew their friendship with the Lumières and to hear of the brothers’ latest achievements.

The evening before Daniel left she asked a favour of him. ‘Would you let me rest for a while from acting? I still feel emotionally wrecked by all that has happened. Here I can be peaceful for a while. It will give me the chance to do more writing instead.’

He agreed that it would be good for her to stay for a while and had reasons of his own to be glad she had made her request. ‘Stay as long as you wish. There are two movies waiting to be made as soon as
The Tragic Queen
is in the can and I’m keeping it back for the Royal Picturedrome’s premiere.’

She stayed on for another month and settled to writing, having had several plots in her head for some time. When she left Lyon the house was closed up again, but with a non-resident housekeeper to keep it in order and the same two cleaning women from the past. Lisette felt that now she had what amounted to Daniel’s blessing on the house she would be free to come and stay whenever the mood took her.

Daniel had a special reason for holding back the premiere of
The Tragic Queen,
which he had not disclosed to Lisette. He wanted to be sure that there would be no backlash against her after details of the divorce had been published in the London papers. He was counting on the fact that – on the whole – the public had short memories, some new calamity or event forever diverting interest. So he encouraged Lisette to spend more and more time at the Bellecour house where she could settle peacefully to writing, which she enjoyed. It would give her the chance to come up with more original plots with scripts such as those of hers he had previously filmed successfully.

From that time onwards Lisette travelled between London and Lyon at quite frequent intervals, but her every homecoming to Daniel was like another honeymoon, for they were always starved of each other, even after the briefest of partings. Then, when he felt she would be safe from public ostracism, he finally set the date for the grand premiere.

When he had first taken Lisette to see the theatre it had still been in the early stages of restoration, the air cloudy with brick dust and stinking of whitewash.

‘I’ll come again when it’s finished,’ she had said, coughing as she left the building with him.

Now with the premiere only a few weeks away, Lisette returned home again from France with another new script and, surprising herself, more than ready to act again if Daniel should need her. She knew that the restoration of the theatre had proved more costly than originally anticipated, but she had complete faith in his project. It was why she laughed with delight when she entered the theatre with its vast red-carpeted foyer and elegant staircases. The auditorium was an orgy of crimson and gold with cherubs ornamenting the proscenium arch, and handsome velvet curtains that when parted revealed a screen larger than any she had seen before.

‘It’s like a palace in a fairy tale,’ she exclaimed, clapping her hands in approval. ‘Audiences will love it!’

‘So you see it as I do,’ he said, pleased that she shared the same vision. ‘People need to be transported out of their everyday lives when they come to see a movie, and entering these surroundings will take them halfway there before the entertainment has even started.’

She nodded. ‘And, most important of all, this theatre will fulfil your aim to put motion pictures on an equal footing with the theatrical stage.’

But the chosen date for the grand premiere had to be postponed. King Edward was taken ill and died, plunging the country into mourning for a monarch who had enjoyed life, the racetrack and beautiful women. With the suffragette movement gaining momentum people remembered again the woman who had thrown herself in front of his horse at the races, giving her life to bring publicity to the cause.

Out of respect for the late King and on the more mercenary level of not wanting the gaiety of the evening to be dampened by patrons wearing mourning black, Daniel waited several weeks before the grand opening of his theatre took place. Then he ensured that there was plenty of good publicity to attract his first audience.

On the opening night gilt-edged programmes, which could be kept as souvenirs, were to be given free. He let it be rumoured that there might be a royal presence, although the court was still in mourning and neither the new King, George V, nor his wife, Queen Mary, were known to have any great interest in the theatre and were far less likely to attend a picture house. Nevertheless the rumour took hold and Daniel was rewarded on the opening night by a foreign princess and her ladies taking the royal box. Every other seat was sold and outside a crowd of spectators gathered to watch arrivals with several policemen on duty to keep order. Unfortunately there were a few religious extremists in the crowd carrying banners against Lisette’s appearance that proclaimed ‘A Harlot in the role of a Harlot!’ and ‘Close this house of Sin!’

Daniel was concerned about Lisette having to face hostility from this section and telephoned her at home to give a warning, but she had already left. He kept a watch on those arriving, greeting people whom he knew and welcoming all the others. Nobody was being hindered by the demonstration outside and the flow of arriving patrons was like a river.

It was when Lisette arrived and stepped out on to the red carpet there came a great wave of shouting. It was not only from the extremists, for a swarm of suffragettes, taking advantage of this chance of publicity, had been biding their time out of sight and now came thrusting into the crowd with banners of their own. There was pandemonium.

‘Votes for women!’ they shrieked. ‘Franchise for all!’

Police whistles blew. People pushed and shoved. One of the policemen seized Lisette as she was almost knocked to the ground in the seething throng and he shielded her with his body as he pushed a way through to the entrance where he thrust her forward into Daniel’s arms.

‘Are you all right?’ he demanded anxiously.

‘Yes,’ she said breathlessly. ‘But what about the patrons caught up in the scrum outside?’

‘I’ll make it up to them. Free tickets for future performances.’

Police reinforcements had arrived. Order was soon restored and a number of suffragettes were arrested as police shins were kicked and helmets knocked off. Inside the picture house people had taken their seats and in the orchestra pit a pianist played popular music of the day. When the lights were lowered the programme began with some news items followed by two comedies interspersed with music hall turns. During the first one the film broke, which happened quite frequently in any performance, but it took only a minute to repair and the show continued. Last of all came
The Tragic Queen
.

It ended to a standing ovation and when Daniel led Lisette on to the stage the applause trebled in volume. Bouquets were presented to her. They both made short speeches and were applauded again. Afterwards the audience left without meeting any trouble outside

‘Now we’ve launched our Royal Picturedrome,’ Daniel said with satisfaction, ‘the next one will be far bigger in every way.’

For the time being she was content with what they had, but she knew that Daniel would always strive towards greater achievement.