What the Heart Keeps (46 page)

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Authors: Rosalind Laker

BOOK: What the Heart Keeps
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You are here.”


That’s not the same. I’m out a lot in the evenings with friends. I wouldn’t blame him if sometimes at a day’s end he couldn’t face returning to a deserted apartment on his own.”


I see.” Lisa sat motionless. She felt sick and hollow inside. There could be few wives who received warnings of another woman from their own daughters. It appeared she had neglected Alan far more than she had realised. “In that case I mustn’t be selfish about living at Maple House. Your father means more to me than anything else. I’ll have some more of my clothes and other things sent here and I’ll stay all the time he needs me.”

Thankfulness
suffused Catherine’s face. “He’ll always need you! I know.”

Alan
certainly appeared more than glad to see his wife when he came home. That night his love-making was as ardent as it had ever been and she began to hope she had arrived in London in time to avert a serious rift in their marriage.

In
the morning she went with Alan to the West End while Catherine took the Underground to the head office of the circuit where she was working. When they came to the new cinema, Lisa was astonished by its size. She had seen the plans, viewed the building in its earlier stages, and thought she had gained a fairly clear picture of how it would be, but this shining marble-faced edifice was like a treasure house out of the Arabian Nights, designed psychologically to give an atmosphere of ultimate escapism.

Alan
showed her through it with pride. From the ticket hall with the gold-star light fittings and panels with mirrored mouldings, they went through to the lofty foyer decorated in rich and cleverly muted shades of crimson and purple and still more gold. Side by side they went up the thickly carpeted staircase with the gilded railings and on this upper level were the opulent Moorish bars, the restaurant with a draped silken ceiling and doors resembling those in a harem, and the tearoom like an exotic garden.

Alan
opened the double doors into the Grand Circle for her. She stared in amazement at the colossal size of the auditorium, which would be filled with music by a large electric organ designed to rise up into sight before a performance and during intervals, and descend again afterwards. The vast screen above it, framed by a theatrical proscenium arch of spangled red and gold, was faced on either side by what appeared to be the terrace of a Moorish village, set amid exotic plants enhanced by hidden coloured lights. This theme was carried right around the walls with exotic Moorish grilles that disguised the ventilation and more balconies and foliage and false archways that hinted at mysterious depths beyond. The domed dark blue ceilings was set with twinkling stars and more hidden illumination, released by a prearranged signal with Harry and changing from moonlit blues through the pinks of dawn to the golden glow of sunshine and the orange hues of sunset, and back again.


It’s fantastic,” she declared with a perfect turn of phrase. “I congratulate you, Alan. In its own way it’s curiously beautiful, too. What movie is to open it?” She was certain he would choose as a first showing something glamorously suited to these stunning surroundings. A movie with Marlene Dietrich perhaps. Or Mae West. Or Joan Crawford. On the male side it might be Gable or Cooper or Colman.


The best way to answer that is to show you the lobby cards. I asked Catherine to bring them by taxi if they had arrived on her desk by this morning. Let’s go downstairs to the managerial office and see if she’s there.”

Lisa
looked amused. “I can tell you’re planning a surprise for me. Am I allowed to guess whose film it might be?”

He
grinned at her. “You may guess if you like, but I’m giving nothing away.”

She
laughed, linking her hands about the crook of his arm. She was convinced that Minnie’s latest movie had been selected. That made her extremely happy. Moreover, with everything so right between Alan and her this day, as it had been last night, she began to wonder if she had misread Catherine’s meaning. Maybe her daughter’s only concern had been simply for her father’s loneliness.

When
they drew near the office the door was ajar and they could hear Harry talking to someone. Thinking it must be Catherine, Lisa darted ahead, exclaiming as she entered: “Show me Minnie’s lobby cards!”

She
caught her breath on her utterance. It was not her daughter who stood there in a loosely fitting Garbo coat with an upstanding collar, but a tall, attractive-looking woman of about thirty, her eyes very blue, her hair a luxuriant chestnut. This is she, Lisa thought immediately. How or why she knew was impossible to tell, but she did not have the least doubt that it was this woman’s shadow that lay across her marriage. Harry was introducing them.


This is Miss Davis, who is in charge of the head office, Mother. She has been a right hand to us during these past months.”

Lisa
acknowledged the introduction. Rita Davis had a pleasing smile, a hint of dimples in her cool cheeks. “I’m sorry if you were expecting Catherine, Mrs. Fernley. She had some work I wanted her to finish, so I brought the lobby cards myself.”

Behind
Lisa came Alan’s voice, casual and even. “Thank you, Miss Davis. That was considerate of you.”


It was a pleasure, sir. Now if you will excuse me, I must be getting back.” She left the office, a wisp of expensive French scent lingering after her, her heels high and tapping across the marble floor of the foyer.

Alan
went to the desk to take up the top lobby card of the stack that Rita Davis had delivered, and he turned to display it for Lisa. “There, darling. You were right in your guesswork, as you can see.”

Only
she knew that his words could have held another interpretation for her. She forced herself to focus on Minnie’s beautiful face, framed in a swathing of diaphanous veiling asparkle with sequins, gazing at her soulfully from the lobby card above the movie’s title:
Love’s
Glory
. The artwork at the side, a drawing of her in her leading man’s arms, combined to emphasise to the cinemagoer that this was a movie of intense passion and drama.


That’s a wonderful choice,” she endorsed with feeling, keeping herself in strict control. “Nothing could be more apt than that Minnie should figure in this special venture with us all.”

Harry
came around the desk to face her, his face jubilant with what he had to tell. “I’ve more good news for you. Not only will it be the world premiere of
Love’s
Glory
, but Minnie herself has promised to come from Hollywood to be here for it!”

She
almost broke down. The reunion would mean more to her than either her husband or her stepson could realise. She and Minnie had been through much together in the past and now, when she had this crisis to face in her marriage, there was to be a return to that sustaining friendship. Minnie would be a tower of strength to her.

*

Lisa drove to Southampton to meet the
Queen
Mary
. The liner was docking as she waited on the quayside. Nearby the press had gathered to go on board. Advance publicity had let it be known that Minnie Shaw, once widowed and four times married and divorced, would be arriving that day to appear at a world premiere of her new movie in two weeks’ time. Lisa had been given a special pass to go to Minnie’s stateroom, for once the film star had emerged there would be photographs and on-the-spot interviews, giving no chance for two old friends to speak to each other until much later.


You may go aboard now, ma’am.”

The
waiting was over. Lisa in her beige Chanel suit, pearls, and a soft felt hat, went up the gangway to be met at the top by Minnie’s personal secretary, Blanche Stiller, a hard-faced, crisply business-like woman. She led the way to Minnie’s stateroom, opened the door to announce Lisa, and retired. The luxuriously appointed suite was like a flower shop with baskets of roses, carnations and orchids making a riot of colour. In the midst of it all Minnie was rushing forward with arms outstretched.


I don’t believe it, Lisa! You haven’t changed a bit!”


Neither have you!”

They
laughed and cried as they kissed each other’s cheeks, both talking at once and locked in a hug together. When they drew apart breathlessly, Minnie pushed Lisa down into a chair before darting across to a side table where she took a bottle of champagne out of an ice-bucket and poured out two glasses.


I always drink champagne at important moments in my life nowadays,” she declared merrily, “and in between as well!” She handed a glass to Lisa. Then with a swirl of skirt, she stood back with her head to one side to scrutinise her friend. “I was wrong. There is something about you that’s different. I know! It’s your hair. You’ve had it bobbed. It’s short.” Abruptly she lifted her chin and took a shuddering breath. “Wow! I have a shivery feeling of
déjà
vu
. I remarked on Risto’s army hair cut when I first saw him in uniform. Is it an omen, do you think?”

Lisa
in her turn had been revising her first impression. Minnie was too thin. Far too thin. Her bias-cut dress of jade crepe de chine, clinging lightly to her frame, revealed only too clearly the slight breasts and sharp hip-bones. And there was a brittleness about her every movement. It spoke of screaming nerves just below the surface, and her face, still extraordinarily beautiful in a gamine way, bore evidence of more sadness than happiness, more strain than ease.


No, it’s not an omen, Minnie. Risto is particularly in our thoughts today. That’s what is good about old friendships. The past is always close to the present. Time evaporates. He looked handsome in uniform.”


He did, didn’t he?” Minnie said reminiscently as she sat down in the neighbouring chair, her silk stockings gleaming on her long legs. “There’s never been anyone else, you know. Oh, I don’t count those four slobs I married or the other men I’ve slept around with, not even the nice ones. I loved Risto. I still love him.” She clenched a fist and gave her knee a hard thump. “That bloody war! What it did to women of our generation! It left hundreds of thousands of us as widows and spinsters, and took from us all the children who would have been born.” Tears shone in her eyes but she blinked them back, raising her glass to Lisa. “I didn’t intend to get gloomy. Here’s to us, Lisa! And to sweet memories!”

Lisa
drank the toast. “Is there anyone new in your life, Minnie? Someone who might bring you love again?”


No. I’ve been hibernating lately in any case. Trying to get away from telephones and people and studios and the press.” “Why? Haven’t you been well?”

Minnie
turned aside the question as if it had not been spoken. “More champagne? My glass is empty.” She leaped up from her chair to refill it, her talk coming rapidly. “How’s Alan? Is he still as handsome a devil as he was? I remember fancying him when I first came from Quadra. That was before I’d seen Risto. After that I never wanted anyone else. Speaking of Quadra reminds me of Agnes and Henry Twidle. Do you still hear from them?”


Regularly. Not all that long ago Agnes had a visit from her mother and sister. Unfortunately, upon stepping ashore at Granite Bay, her mother exclaimed: ‘What a God-forsaken place!’ Much as Mrs. Grant did when we first arrived there. Henry turned on his heel and didn’t speak to his mother-in-law for the whole of her vacation with them, and Agnes says he had vowed that he never will again.”


Oh dear. That’s hard on Agnes and she’s such a lovely person. Never a word of complaint throughout the rigours of those winters and little outside communication.”


The West of that continent has been built on the courage of women like Agnes.”


Tell me now about Catherine. Is she lucky enough to have grown up looking like you? People must think you’re her sister. You’re six years older than I and yet you would be taken for the younger of us. What’s the secret? Your good marriage? I suppose Alan is still at your feet as he always was.” She prattled on, giving no time for answers, almost as if a tightly wound up spring inside her had been released and suddenly there was no controlling it. “You’re a lucky woman to have a man like that in love with you. And you only married him for Harry’s sake, didn’t you?”

Lisa
was sharply taken aback. “Whatever led you to that conclusion?”

Minnie
flapped a hand elegantly, her diamond rings flashing fire. “I knew you too well not to be able to see for myself that you weren’t in love with him. There was someone else. It was that Norwegian, wasn’t it? The one we first met in the embarkation hall at Liverpool and who turned up in Dekova’s Place to rescue you when you were mugged with the cashbox.”


He didn’t rescue me. He made a citizen’s arrest on my attacker after knocking him to the ground.”


But he rescued you in that forest fire, didn’t he?”

Lisa
felt the colour surge into her cheeks. “You’re probing too deeply, Minnie. That was a long time ago.”

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