Stratford Jewel

by Oliver, Marina

  *

  Rosa sat by the window scanning the playscript. It was a beautiful spring day, and the trees in Central Park were showing the first hint of green. When they'd returned from their trip Max had introduced her to friends who ran an amateur dramatic society, and she had been given a small part in their next production.

  'I have to be out so much, working,' Max had explained. 'I don't want you to pine. Besides, why should your talent be lost to the stage just because you married me?'

  He hadn't been so understanding when one of the Hollywood directors had tried to persuade her to take a film test in California, Rosa recalled. His expression had been grim, almost bleak, while he sat back and waited for her reply. Their lovemaking that night, after she had refused the offer, had been even more intense than usual, and for the first time there had been none of the lighthearted teasing mingling with the passion, a combination she loved. Part of her regretted the lost opportunity. She still wanted to act. Her confidence, though, was fragile and veered to extremes.

  He must love her if he dreaded losing her so, she told herself repeatedly, yet since Thanksgiving she'd had niggling doubts whether he regretted their impetuous marriage, regretted losing Jenny with her infatuation for the callow youth she now seemed to have rejected. She dared not ask for fear of any hesitation in his answer. She could only judge by his manner towards her, and while she tried to believe there was no change, she was terrified her hopes were forcing her into that conclusion.

  She looked at him now, seated at the big table with Jack, maps spread about in front of them. Jack was arguing vehemently for the merits of Wyoming, a state he had not seen.

  'I was talking to this man on the train from Washington,' he said excitedly. 'He said it was wonderful country.'

  'It is, but it's very far away from us,' Max said calmly. 'Surely you don't want to go so far that we'd probably meet only once or twice a year?'

  'It's not that far.'

  'It's almost a week away from New York. Somewhere in Kentucky would be much more suitable. Or Ohio. I've heard of some good farmland available, on the Ohio River, my partner said. It's his wife's uncle who's selling up.' He pulled one map towards him and traced the river with his finger. 'Here, between these two towns, on the left bank.'

  Jack frowned. 'That's the right bank.'

  'No, the river flows this way.'

  'Hell, I have problems enough telling my right from my left without having to know which way a river flows. How many acres, and would I have enough money to buy it?'

  'Almost, and I could help you out with a loan. Instead of your coming here next time, let's all go and visit Ohio and see this farm.'

  Jack agreed, but was silent about his plans for the remainder of his visit. He enjoyed seeing the former vaudeville turn, the Marx Brothers, in their first movie, The Cocoanuts. Only when Rosa was seeing him off on the train back to Washington did he refer again to the possibility of farming.

  'I prefer Wyoming,' he said abruptly.

  'Well, let's see. It will be fun to take a trip somewhere anyway.'

  Jack nodded and sighed. 'It's better now I can travel on my own, but it's like going back to prison. Rosa, when will it end? I'm perfectly well now, I know I am. I've wasted enough of my life, I want to get on with something more important than talking endlessly to doctors about how I feel and why I did stupid things! I don't know why, and as I can't remember doing them anyway I've only your word I did.'

  Rosa looked at him in dismay. 'You surely can't think I'd tell lies?'

  Jack brushed his hands across his face. 'Of course not. That wasn't what I meant. But it's so odd to think there's part of me I don't know, things I can't remember, especially when these are things I wouldn't normally do.'

  Rosa nodded. It must be very hard, she thought. 'It won't be for much longer,' she tried to comfort him. 'We'll take the trip to Ohio, but we won't try to persuade you in any way. Then the next time you come it will be when my play is on. You'll come and see it?'

  Jack grinned. 'It isn't Stratford. Do you miss the theatre?' he asked abruptly. 'Oh, here's the guard. I'd better find my seat. Goodbye, Rosa.'

  *

  Celia paused, and the ink dried on her pen. She glanced about the small room for inspiration. How much ought she to tell Rosa? She would certainly not mention Willy. Rosa, always high-minded, wouldn't understand the necessity of pleasing men who could be helpful in one's career.

  She grimaced as she recalled Willy's frustration and fury when she told him she intended to move out of the Eaton Square apartment. With the promise of a role in a Hollywood film she no longer needed him. He couldn't even get her dismissed from the present play, whatever his influence in securing the part for her, since she was having a considerable success. He'd made her pay, though. The bruises he'd inflicted on her that last night still hadn't faded, and she could barely recall the next few performances. She had suffered torment with her aching body, and had to use greasepaint half an inch thick to cover up the livid marks on her arms and neck. At least he hadn't damaged her face.

  She dipped the nib in the inkwell. She'd certainly tell Rosa about the hasty marriage of Agnes and Adam. She'd never really believed Agnes could pull it off, in spite of the detailed instructions she had given her on how to inflame a man into indiscretion.

  'It was easy,' Agnes had boasted when she and Celia had met for tea in a Lyon's Corner House. 'I pretended my horse had thrown me and run off. I was so wet I had to take off all my clothes, and I pretended to sleep on the couch in Adam's study. Then when he came in I let the rug slip. A few weeks later I told him I was pregnant, and he proposed.'

  'I told you it would be easy in the right circumstances.'

  Agnes and her mother were in London buying clothes for Agnes's trousseau, Mrs Holmes declaring that none of the shops in Stratford or even Birmingham were smart enough. 'What she really means is that people there who know us might ask questions about why we're getting married in such a hurry,' Agnes had said, giggling. 'I don't mind, it gives me a chance to sneak away and see you for an hour. We're coming to the play tonight.'

  'Does your mother know you're pregnant?'

  'Of course not! Well, she might suspect, but she daren't even suggest it to Father, or he'd horsewhip Adam, and I don't want that, do I?'

  'Antiquated,' Celia commented. 'So how did you get them to agree to such a sudden wedding?'

  'That was Adam's idea. His mother isn't well, she's going to a spa in Germany for the summer, and we want her at the wedding first.'

  'I suppose you'd have preferred he pretended a passionate devotion, suddenly realised?'

  Agnes shrugged and looked embarrassed. 'I suppose so, but everyone knew how much he wanted Rosa.'

  'Yes, this will certainly be believed more.'

  'Anyway, I don't think passion is all it's cracked up to be.'

  Celia looked at her with laughter in her eyes. 'Didn't you enjoy Adam's attentions then?' she demanded.

  'Hush! Keep your voice down.'

  'It will get better, I promise,' Celia chuckled. 'I'll tell you something. I didn't enjoy the first few times, either, but at least Adam's more experienced than a fumbling stable-lad.'

  'Celia! You didn't!'

  'Didn't what?'

  Agnes blushed. 'What you said. Make love with a stable-lad.'

  'Make love? It certainly wasn't that. I was tired of all the girls I knew, older girls who'd been at school with us, but who were married, going on about it, sniggering and implying there was some great secret. I wanted to know what it was all about, of course, but not by getting married.'

  'I don't know how you dared.'

  'It wasn't difficult, and you dared it.'

  'Yes, but Adam's different.'

  'Not under the blankets, I'll bet. Just more experienced, perhaps with a greater finesse?'

  Agnes looked unconvinced. 'He said that it was dangerous for the baby, we'd have separate bedrooms to begin with. I don't think I'll mind.'

  Celia
suddenly became serious. 'Agnes, you mustn't! Don't you see, if nothing happens after the wedding, he might try to get an annulment.'

  'But – in that case – why did he agree to marry me?'

  'You took him by surprise, he was bewildered, didn't have time to think properly, felt he had to do the right thing? I suppose you really are pregnant?'

  'How can you say that!'

  'It wouldn't be the first time a man had been trapped that way. But you'll have to seduce him after you're married, or he could claim non-consummation,' Celia said bluntly. 'Luckily Gilbert and I didn't go to bed after our wedding, so if it suits me I can find a way out. Agnes, I know, I've talked to a lawyer about it. You must believe me.'

  Celia recalled this conversation, and saw that once more her nib was dry. She might drop a hint that Agnes was pregnant. That would annoy Rosa. But she would not repeat Agnes's confidences, even when she saw Rosa in New York on her way to Hollywood.

  *

  'Max, I can't! It includes the weekend Jack's coming here.'

  'He could delay it a week. Rosa, I want you with me, I hate spending so much time away from you, and it's a chance to see Chicago.'

  Rosa was tempted. She loved going to different cities with Max, seeing the varied landscape of her adopted country, and discussing with him his ideas for cinema designs, but this time she could not.

  'Jack was so disappointed about the Ohio farm,' she said. 'He wanted to like it, I'm sure, but he couldn't. If we put off his next visit he'll be upset.'

  'You can't look after him alone.'

  'Of course I can, darling. He's so much better now. They wouldn't let him travel to New York on his own if they had any doubts.'

  Max frowned. 'I sometimes wonder if Jack means more to you than I do,' he said sharply. 'It's always his welfare you consider, not mine.'

  Rosa was aghast. 'Max, how can you say that? After all you've done for him! If you hadn't brought him here, and made your uncle interested, heaven knows what trouble he'd be in by now back in England.'

  Max sighed. 'Sweetheart, I did it for you. I wouldn't have helped Jack if I hadn't been anxious to take on your burden. But sometimes I need you to put me first. It won't hurt Jack to wait another week before we see him again.'

  Slowly Rosa shook her head. The choice was agonising. Why couldn't he understand? All she could think was that Jack needed her, in a way Max didn't, but she knew Max would never comprehend her fears.

  'I can't,' she said in a flat voice. 'I'm sorry, so sorry, Max, but you'll have to go alone. I want to be with you, truly I do, but Jack has only me. I can't disappoint him.'

  *

  'Darling, what a dinky little apartment!' Celia exclaimed. 'If I'd known you only had two bedrooms I'd have booked in at an hotel, but I did so want to see my dear sister.'

  'And Jack, he'll be here tomorrow,' Rosa warned.

  'Yes, Jack, of course. How is he? Getting better with all this fancy American treatment that poor old England can't provide?'

  'You shouldn't scoff at America when it's giving you such a marvellous opportunity,' Rosa said, laughing at her. It was wonderful to see Celia again, though she seemed rather more brittle, more on edge than before. 'How strange we should all finish up in America.'

  'You may be finished, but I'm decidedly not. I'm just starting.'

  'I read the reviews of your play. You did very well, and I'm only sorry I couldn't see it. Tell me about acting in London in a real professional theatre.'

  'Far better than walk-on parts in the Temporary Theatre in Stratford. What did Max say when he heard a woman had won the competition to design the new one?'

  'He'd never heard of Elizabeth Scott, but we both thought it looked too modern, too stark to fit in with the background.'

  'You didn't want an Elizabethan replica, surely?'

  'No, but I preferred Max's ideas.'

  'Spoken like the loyal little wife. You won't tell secrets like Agnes does.'

  'That marriage was very sudden.'

  'She's always wanted him, at least once she got over her infatuation with Jack, and saw how odd he was becoming. With you out of the way she saw her chance and seized it. I admit she was clever about it, seducing him and then pretending to be pregnant.'

  'Pretending? That's despicable!'

  Celia chuckled. 'They deserve one another. I wouldn't be at all surprised to hear she's lost the baby. As for him, when he made love to her on their wedding night he called her Rosalind. And he was so cross his mother had booked rooms at the Savoy. She was on her way to Baden. You stayed at the Savoy that time, didn't you? I always thought something had happened there.'

  Rosa took a deep breath. Celia was being more mischievous than usual. 'I can't imagine them together. I hope she is the right woman for him.'

  'Regretting your lost chances?' Celia said with a giggle. 'You can't complain, it was your choice to run away with the wonderful Max.'

  'I don't complain, of course I don't. Adam and I were friends for a long while, and I want him to be happy, as happy as I am. I am not certain he can be with Agnes, that's all.'

  'The lady doth protest too much. Are you sure everything's all right between you and Max? If love's young dream is still as flourishing as you say I'm surprised he could bear to leave you on your own.'

  'I've explained, Jack is coming.'

  'And you've only got two bedrooms. But we'll all be here for only one night, I'm catching the train west the following morning. Surely I could share your bed for one night? Would you feel I'd defiled it for Max?'

  Rosa did feel precisely that, but with Celia's mocking gaze on her she wouldn't admit it. 'You can have Jack's room tonight, and share mine tomorrow. That will be fine. Now tell me about Gilbert. Your letters never said much. Why have you left him?'

  'Marriage was boring. I knew he'd keep me back, tied to him and his limited ambitions. Limited abilities, too, I'm afraid. When he was in Stratford we thought he was wonderful, didn't we, being a proper actor.'

  'He took you away, helped you get started.'

  Celia smiled. 'He showed me how to make the most of my chances. I'll always be grateful to him, so long as he stays out of my way now.'

  'Shall we go to the movies tonight? We could see the new Greta Garbo film. She's the latest Hollywood star.'

  'Until I arrive!'

  They talked endlessly until Jack came on the following afternoon. He was pleased to see Celia, but after a while her incessant chatter about Hollywood made him fretful. 'You won't like it, Celia,' he warned. 'They're all predators. One of the other – patients – at the hospital comes from there, and he says it's all quite false, a stage with no reality.'

  'I like stages and illusions, and I don't really want the opinions of someone who's an inmate in a lunatic asylum!' Celia snapped.

  'Celia, Jack's hospital is nothing of the sort,' Rosa protested, hurt. 'You mustn't say such things.'

  Celia shrugged and turned to gaze out of the window. Jack stared at her for a long minute, then quietly rose and went into the small bedroom he occupied when he came to the apartment.

  'How could you be so unkind?'

  'Unkind? I was merely speaking the truth which everyone else avoids. Jack isn't any better, Rosa, he's still odd.'

  'You haven't seen the change in him. He doesn't have odd impulses now, and he's much more cheerful, looking forward to buying a farm.'

  'Then he clearly resents me. I can't stay here, Rosa, I'll simply upset him more. I'll go to an hotel for tonight. That would be best for all of us.'

  *

  For the first time in America Rosa felt impatient with Jack. He roamed restlessly about the apartment all morning, complaining about Celia, telling Rosa all the things he should have said to her yesterday and rejecting all her suggestions of things they might do.

  'The sooner I go to Wyoming the better,' he said morosely when she persuaded him to eat some lunch.

  'I wonder if there are any books describing all the different states?' Rosa said suddenl
y. 'There must be guide books, or better still books of photographs, pictures. Neither of us knows a great deal about anywhere here, and you might see somewhere else you'd like to look at. Shall we go and see?'

  To her relief Jack agreed, and they went to explore the largest bookshop she knew. Jack seemed to enjoy browsing, but after half an hour with history and geography he drifted off to look at books on natural history.

  'See this one about the different birds they have here?' he said, showing Rosa a large book of superb paintings. 'I think I'll buy this.'

  'I'll go and buy that one with pictures of all the different states,' Rosa suggested. Jack nodded, and she left him.

  Ten minutes later she returned but he had gone. The salesman said he'd bought the book and had then walked out of the store. She followed, feeling irritated. Why couldn't he have waited for her? Now she'd have difficulty finding him, and if he had vanished completely wouldn't know whether to go home and wait there or try nearby streets and shops in case he had drifted into them. She glanced around. There was a man selling matches a few yards away, and she went to ask if he'd seen Jack.

  'What's he look like, your feller?'

  Rosa described him and the clothes he was wearing. 'And he had on a bright red scarf and would have been carrying a parcel, a book,' she concluded.

  'Him, yeah, I saw him. Flagged down a cab and said he wanted the Woolworth Tower. On'y a coupla blocks, but insisted on a cab. Money ter burn. Want some matches, lady?'

  Rosa hastily bought some, then set off towards the big skyscraper which she and Jack had marvelled at on his previous visit to the city. She would walk, could get there almost as quickly as a cab, and even, if the traffic was heavy, before it. Had he gone to take another look at it, she wondered. Perhaps he had some idea that once he was out in the wide open spaces of Wyoming or wherever, he might not have another chance of seeing such tall buildings. She smiled. He could visit them from wherever he settled, and in a year or so, according to Max, there would be even bigger skyscrapers. The Chrysler building would be over a thousand feet high, and the Empire State building even taller.