by T A Williams
‘The second one was doing fine until somebody tipped a flask of Chianti all down the front of it. They never managed to get the stain out completely, so a third one had to be made and it survived to the end, and here it is today. And I remember they cost almost a thousand dollars each – and in those days, that was a lot of money.’ Miss Beech took a final look at her. ‘But you do look absolutely wonderful, Faye.’ She was sounding quite delighted, restored to her good humour once more. ‘Just wonderful. Anyway, let’s try another one. I know: how about the dress I wore in the casino scene in Broken Dreams?
They were still up there, looking through the collection, Faye trying on gown after gown, when Claudette arrived to announce that Miss Beech’s lunch was served.
‘Thank you, Claudette. I’ll come right down. Tell me, is there enough for Faye as well by any chance?’
Claudette nodded. ‘Yes, indeed. It’s just a salad with cold salmon and there’s plenty to go round.’
‘Would you like to join me, Faye?’
‘I’d love to, if it’s no bother to either of you.’
Downstairs in the dining room, Claudette hastily set a second place at the table. Eddie, she informed them, was taking his lunch upstairs, but would be coming down again later. As Faye sat down, a familiar shape came trotting into the room and she felt a cold, wet nose rub against her leg before he went over to his mistress to say hello. As he slumped down on the floor between them, Miss Beech threw out a question that was really hard to answer.
‘So, Faye, if there was one thing you’ve seen today that you would like as a gift from me, what would it be?’
‘Wow, what a question.’ Secretly, deep down, Faye knew that she would absolutely love to own the very first gown she had tried on. Of course, it was worth far too much and she would never ever wear it, but just to know the history of the dress and the fact that she, Faye Carter, was the exact same shape and size as one of the greatest movie stars of all time, was heady.
Knowing Miss Beech and her generosity, she felt pretty sure that all she would have to do was ask. Instead, she went for the diplomatic answer. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start in choosing between those amazing gowns; besides, they’re part of your personal history. But there is one thing here in this house that I’d love to own, and he’s lying on the floor at our feet.’ She looked across at Miss Beech. ‘It’s true love, I’m afraid. I’m totally smitten. So, if you ever get fed up with Marlon, you know who to ask.’
Miss Beech gave her a warm smile. ‘I get the feeling it’s mutual. From the very first moment he saw you, he’s been equally besotted. I’m afraid he’s the one thing I really wouldn’t want to give away, but sooner or later you’ll have to choose something else. I’d like you to have something from me as a memory, and a thank you. Having you here has been such a delight, you know.’
They chatted over the predictably lovely lunch and, as Claudette wheeled the plates away at the end, Faye remembered what had been troubling her. ‘Miss Beech, there’s something I wanted to ask you. I can’t find any record of what you did for that first year you were in Hollywood. I can’t find the diary for 1955 or any other reference to what you were doing at that time. Would you feel like giving me a bit more detail for the book?’
Miss Beech was staring into her coffee cup and she kept her eyes down for quite some time before answering. ‘A lot happened that year, Faye. In fact, an awful lot.’ Faye was surprised by her tone: no longer warmed by happy memories, but deadly serious. ‘I’ve been debating how to tell you and how much you should put in the book. It’s hard to know where to begin.’ Then, slowly, she raised her head and Faye saw that the tears were back in the old actress’s eyes. She immediately reached over, laying her hand on Miss Beech’s arm.
‘Miss Beech, there’s no need to talk about it if it upsets you. I can work round it, honestly.’
‘No, Faye, I’d like you to know. You need to know. We can decide together how much of it goes into the book later.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Now, it’s almost two o’clock and I’ve got to take a few pills and have a nap. Why don’t you come over at teatime and I’ll tell you my tale?’
***
Although it was very hot outside, Faye decided to take Marlon for a walk that afternoon anyway. She stuck as far as possible to the shade of the woods and hugged the trees around the lavender fields, doing her best to ensure that the dog didn’t overheat. At one point, she heard a tractor and saw that it was being driven by Rémy, one of Gavin’s farmhands. Of Gavin himself, there was no sign.
As she walked, the thought going through her head was the nature of her friendship with Gavin. She had come here to Provence still hurting from the break-up with Didier and she had genuinely had no interest in looking for another man. The first few times she had met Gavin, although she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she had been struck by his handsome face and hunky body, she had been happy to cultivate him as a friend. Nothing more. Also, the fact that she had believed him to be married had further confirmed the relationship as just one of friendship, nothing more.
Now, did the fact that he was single complicate things as far as their relationship was concerned? She considered him a good, close friend, just as Dominique had also become. Did she want more? Did he?
Back at the flat, she made herself a cup of tea, did her best to shake off thoughts of Gavin, and settled down to write up the copious notes she had taken that morning. The spooky sensation the shiny silver dress had given her was hard to shift. It had felt surreal to find herself standing there in the exact same dress she had seen in the movies. Somehow it was as if she had been transported those fifty years back in time to when Miss Beech had been her age.
Thinking of Miss Beech, she wondered what it was the old lady was going to tell her and remembered what she had said about life not always turning out as you would wish. Clearly, things had not gone strictly to plan during her first year in Hollywood.
At four-thirty she went back to the chateau, just in time to pick up the tray of tea and biscuits from Claudette and carry it through to the lounge, accompanied by the Labrador. Although Claudette had put three cups on the tray, Miss Beech was sitting there on her own. She looked up as Faye came in, a strained expression on her face.
‘Come in my dear and take a seat. Eddie’ll be down a bit later.’ Faye set the tray on a low table and poured the tea, fascinated to hear what Miss Beech would have to say, but concerned that it was upsetting her. She didn’t have long to wait. Clearly, Miss Beech had decided to reveal all. As the story unfolded, Faye listened, spellbound.
‘I took the 1955 diary out of the box and burned it years ago, but I can remember the sequence of events as if it was yesterday.’ Miss Beech ran a weary hand over her forehead. ‘Some things you never forget.’ She took a deep breath and embarked upon her tale. ‘I arrived in Los Angeles in the middle of January 1955 and I found lodgings with an elderly couple: Stan and Libby Goldblum.
‘They were kind folk. Stan had worked in Hollywood for a long time, starting in the mid-thirties. He was only a stage hand and general factotum around the studios, but he knew lots of people and he helped me find a job in a diner right opposite the studio lot, waiting at table while looking for acting work. With Stan’s help, I managed to get interviews with a number of people, among them a film producer called Sol. I’d better not tell you his full name.’ Miss Beech stopped to take a mouthful of tea, but Faye could see it was also to compose herself.
‘Sol was very sweet to me at first. He invited me out for drinks, for dinner, and to some amazing Hollywood parties. It all went to my head and it didn’t take very long before I had convinced myself I was head over heels in love with him and that he felt the same way about me.’
For a second she paused. ‘Or at least that’s what I thought at the time. After a while, he told me he wanted to give me a part in his next movie. By that time things had become more intimate between us.’ Miss Beech paused again. ‘I was only twenty. And twenty
back then wasn’t like twenty now. I was still a virgin when I met Sol, and very inexperienced in the ways of the world. Anyway, before very long, I got pregnant.’ The way she said it, deadpan, was as if she was talking about somebody else, but, in spite of being such a good actress, the anguish beneath the surface was still clear to see.
‘When I was sure, I went to Sol and told him. His response was to deny ever laying a finger on me, to deny ever offering me a job, and to issue instructions to Security to keep me off the lot and out of his sight for ever. I was so totally devastated, I couldn’t even find the strength to start crying. That came later.’ She took a few deep breaths before continuing. ‘Before I left his office, he pulled a handful of dollars from his pocket and told me to take a boat back to England.’ For the first time, she looked up from her cup and Faye saw how red her eyes were. ‘It was a tough time, Faye – very tough.’
Faye’s heart went out to her and she sat forward in her chair so she could catch one of the old lady’s hands and give it a squeeze. She kept hold of the hand as Miss Beech continued. ‘In fact, I did as he said. I used the money I’d got from him and the few dollars I’d been able to save, and I took the boat back to England. I was as sick as a dog all the way back to Southampton, finally got there and travelled down to Plymouth by bus, and arrived absolutely worn out. My mother was delighted to see me back home again, until I explained what had happened.
‘Looking back on it now, it must have seemed like the end of the world for her – it certainly felt like it to me. But she pulled herself together and, somehow, managed to find the money to keep us both going. She never once criticized me, nor told me how stupid I’d been to throw away everything we’d both struggled so hard to achieve. She comforted me, looked after me and, before the baby was born, she went and talked to the adoption people for me.’
There were tears running freely down the old lady’s face now, but Faye could only sit there, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze, while Miss Beech did her best to find the strength to finish her story.
‘My baby was a healthy baby girl, but I hardly even got to hold her. Once I had signed the adoption papers, she was taken away almost immediately and given to a couple to raise as their own. I never met them or knew their names. That’s the way they did things back then. I only held my baby for a few hours. Thinking back now, I can still remember her face, her smell, the feel of her skin.’ Extricating her hand from Faye’s, Miss Beech reached for a fresh tissue and blew her nose, wiping her eyes and cheeks. ‘I cried for a week. I cried until I thought I’d never cry again and, yet, look at me now, Faye? Still crying.’
‘Did you ever see her again?’
Miss Beech shook her head. ‘Never.’ The word was barely more than a whisper.
‘And you never had any other children?’
‘No, never. I wanted to, but I never could. It’s as if I was being punished for doing wrong by my little girl.’
Faye took hold of her hand again, desperate to try to cheer her up. ‘In your circumstances way back then, what could you offer her? Surely giving her a new home with a caring family, desperate for a baby, was the kindest thing you could have done.’
‘I don’t know, Faye. Sometimes I wonder if I was just being selfish.’
‘The opposite, surely? You were giving her a chance of a better life than you could provide.’
‘I’m still not sure. I feel so terribly guilty.’ As she heard the word, Faye found herself thinking of what Gavin had told her and drawing the inevitable parallels. Grief is a terrible thing, but guilt is somehow even worse. Then, resilient character that she was, Miss Beech pulled herself together and picked up the story again.
‘Then we had a stroke of luck. A Royal Navy charity in Plymouth sent my mother a hundred pounds out of the blue. Mum told me to use the money to go back to LA and succeed where I had failed before. She cajoled me and bullied me until I finally agreed. I sailed back across the Atlantic in the same liner, took the same train, and went back to the same lodgings in LA, but I wasn’t the same little girl now.’
She nodded to emphasize her words. ‘I’d had one chance and messed it up and I knew I wasn’t going to do that again. I got my old job back in the diner and it was there I managed to get to know a few people and find a few parts as an extra in movies. From there I got the first few silent roles and then, of course, those nine words that started my career.’
‘And what about the father … Sol? Did you see him again?’
Miss Beech nodded. There was a harder look on her face now. ‘Oh yes. I saw him a number of times, but I’ll never forget the last. A few years later, when I’d finally made it big, I got Eddie to buy his company and then I fired him. As Sol left the office, I took a handful of dollars out of my bag and pushed them into his hand, telling him to go home and stay there.’
‘Wow.’ Faye didn’t know what to say. This was a side of the old lady she hadn’t come across so far, but, of course, in order to make it big, as she described it, she must have had a ruthless streak. Faye cleared her throat, still feeling emotional after Miss Beech’s revelation. ‘Thank you so much for telling me this. I promise I won’t write a word about anything you’ve told me, until you say so.’
Miss Beech gave Faye’s hand a squeeze before releasing it. Then she straightened up and wiped her face once more, doing her best to calm her emotions. Faye reached for the teapot and filled their cups. They both drank deeply.
‘I wanted you to hear this, Faye. You need to know me properly. You’re a bright girl. I’m sure it wouldn’t have happened to you. You’ve had an education, been to university. Besides, times are different now. There’s the pill and all sorts of ways of making sure girls don’t fall into the same trap. But, who knows? Some critics over the years have praised me for my acting talent, particularly my ability to portray grief. Maybe, if I hadn’t had that experience, I wouldn’t have been as convincing. Maybe that experience, awful as it was, was the making of me as an actress.’
‘I’m sure you’re right. I suppose, looking at it pragmatically, it’s a seminal episode in your life. Without that, maybe your career might never have been as amazing as it has been. Wearing my author’s hat, I’d love to put it into the book, but you’re the one who must decide. Anyway, there’s no rush.’
‘I’ll have to think about it. I’m just afraid that, if it ever got published, people would accuse me of having abandoned my child for selfish reasons.’
‘You can’t think of it that way. By doing what you did, you gave her a chance to grow up with a mother and a father.’
‘You and I grew up with just one parent, Faye. It didn’t do us any harm.’
Faye took a while before answering. ‘You’re right, of course. I realize that now, but all through my life, growing up, I really missed having a mother.’
‘Of course you did. But you already told me your father was mother and father to you. You’re a lucky girl.’ Miss Beech took another mouthful of tea. ‘Why don’t you invite him over? I’d love to meet him, you know.’
‘Really? Well, to be honest, I did just that the other day.’ Faye saw Miss Beech begin to smile.
‘And what did he say, Faye?’
‘He said he’d think about it. In fact, he sounded quite keen really.’
‘Excellent.’ Miss Beech’s smile was back on her face again and Faye was happy for her. ‘Give him another call and tell him Anabelle Beech, famous star of the silver screen, would love to meet him.’ She reached across and tapped Faye’s hand. ‘Will you do that for me, Faye?’
Chapter Fourteen
It wasn’t until later in the week that Faye managed to see Gavin again. She had been out with Marlon every day, rather hoping she would meet up with him, until, at long last, she spotted him. It was early evening and the sun was low on the horizon as she saw him walking up the path towards her. George the Labrador had already recognized Marlon and the two of them were tearing about like puppies together.
‘Hello, stranger. I h
aven’t seen you around for a while.’ She gave him a big smile. There was no doubt she was very, very pleased to see him again.
‘Hi, Faye.’ He looked tired, a bit vulnerable. There was a dirty mark on his left check and she came close to reaching across to wipe it away. But, just as she had suspected, she found herself being very English and kept her hands at her sides as he continued. ‘I’ve been working over the hill in the vines. We’re going to start the grape harvest in a week or so and there’s an awful lot of preparation to be done.’
‘Sure you aren’t working too hard?’ She surveyed him critically. ‘I reckon you’ve lost weight.’
‘It’s just an illusion. Besides, once the grape harvest’s over, I’ll be able to relax. And you certainly aren’t getting any fatter. I was just thinking when I saw you in your bikini the other day how slim you are. What’s your secret? Bread and water?’ He managed a smile.
‘I swim quite often and I take Marlon out every day – sometimes two or three times a day. Apart from that, I think I’m just lucky. I’ve got one of those metabolisms that burns fat easily. That’s just as well, living here perilously close to the temptations of Claudette’s cooking.’
‘You’re obviously good at resisting temptation. So, how’s the book going?’
‘Pretty well, thanks. It should be finished before Christmas.’
‘With you doing the writing, I’m sure it can’t go wrong.’
‘Flattery will get you everywhere. Please don’t stop.’ She heard him laugh and was pleased for him.
‘I’ll remember that. And what happens to you once you finish the book?’
‘I’m still trying to decide. Maybe I’ll even stay on over here.’
His face broke into another smile, still hesitant, but definitely happier. ‘Well, that’s very good to hear.’ For a moment he hesitated and she got the feeling he was about to say more, but then he looked back down the hill towards the farm and changed the subject. ‘Have you ever experienced the grape harvest?’ She shook her head. ‘Well, take it from me, it’s manic. Up at the crack of dawn, sitting in a hot tractor all day, and making countless trips down to the Cave with trailers full of grapes. After a while I start dreaming of vines and grapes and I smell, everybody smells, everywhere smells of wine.’
