‘Miss Lee, answer the question.’ Ramsay’s tone caused a ripple of fear through her.
‘I can’t answer that as I was not privy to the inner workings of their relationship, if there was one.’
‘We have evidence there was.’
‘Why are you asking me then?’ No wonder George had looked so concerned the other day. Had he known the witch-hunt was about to target him?
‘We do not appreciate your blasé approach to our questions.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I just don’t understand why you’re involving me.’
Ramsay and his companion exchanged looks once again.
‘Miss Lee, are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist Party of the United States?’
‘What? No!’
‘All right, we’re done here.’ Stuart strode to the door and opened it. He glared at Ramsay. ‘This was only supposed to be about George Barrett. I do not appreciate you changing tack like this.’
‘We will question how we see fit,’ Ramsay said. ‘And as Miss Lee is so closely linked to George Barrett—’
‘Out,’ said Stuart. ‘Until you have some hard evidence on Miss Lee, do not return. I suspect we will not see you again.’
Ramsay walked towards the door, stopped and looked over his shoulder. ‘We’ll see. We’re very good at finding the truth under layers of lies.’
* * *
The remainder of the day had dragged for Lena as she navigated her emotions, which ranged from angry to alarmed. After the meeting with the men from HUAC, Lena had taken a detour to George’s office but hadn’t found him there. She’d discovered he’d been sent home the moment word got out that HUAC had him on their radar. As soon as her day had wrapped up, she drove to his apartment and knocked on the door.
No answer.
‘George!’ she yelled, her knocks echoing in the hallway behind his door. ‘Please, let me in.’
She stopped knocking for a minute then resumed, her intuition telling her he was home.
‘I’m not leaving until we talk. Don’t make me start singing “Mary Had a Little Lamb” because I will.’ Everyone had a weak spot and George’s was the childhood song that drove him crazy.
‘Not impressed.’ The voice came from behind the door.
‘You forced my hand.’ The door clicked open and she slipped through the gap and entered his apartment that was blanketed in darkness. Her friend hid in the shadows and even though she couldn’t see his face clearly, she noted his dishevelled hair and untucked shirt. She went to the windows and opened the blinds, the setting sun casting an orange glow throughout the space that served as kitchen, bedroom and living room.
‘I guess you’ve heard.’ George collapsed on the sofa and Lena sat next to him and held his hand.
She squeezed his fingers. ‘How are you doing?’
He let go and bent forward, hiding his face in his hands. ‘I feel ill. I can’t sleep.’
‘Is it bringing back memories of what happened to Oscar?’
George gave a sad nod. ‘It’s history repeating itself.’
‘It doesn’t need to be,’ she said gently.
‘Of course it will. We’ve seen or heard this scenario played out dozens of times over the years. I’m tarred with the communist brush even though my love life has nothing to do with politics.’
‘What can I do to help?’
‘Nothing.’ He shook his head. ‘I might as well leave Hollywood now. There’s nothing left for me here.’
‘What are you talking about? You have plenty. Your best friend, for starters.’ She nudged him gently, trying to lift his mood.
‘I’ll miss you, truly, but my career is as good as dead.’
‘What about the … oh.’ The script that apparently had so much potential had possibly been what landed him in hot water. ‘Was there something in the script that could have set them off?’
‘Not that I could see. Who knows, maybe they’re using it as an excuse.’ His sigh was long. ‘There’s no fighting it. Look at what happened to the producers and screenwriters who refused to answer questions to HUAC. They ended up in jail then got blacklisted from Hollywood.’
‘The Hollywood Ten? That was years ago.’
‘Yeah, well, it can still happen today. Even if HUAC can’t prove I’m a communist—which they can’t—I’m guilty in their eyes anyway. They’ll hound me for information on people I work with then when I tell them no one I know is a communist, I’ll be accused of refusing to assist in their investigations.’
Lena closed her eyes for a moment. ‘I wish there was a way around this.’
‘There isn’t.’
‘It’s not like you to give up so easily.’
‘What do you want me to do?’ He stood and threw his arms wide. ‘It’s me against an organisation that have been on a witch-hunt for years. They won’t be happy until every person who disagrees with their belief system is out of this business. The Hollywood Blacklist might not be official but it sure as hell exists.’
‘And the list is getting longer.’
‘Exactly.’ George looked at the ceiling before resting his gaze on her. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m all right.’ She wasn’t keen on telling him her news but it was better he was forewarned. ‘They tried questioning me, but Stuart shut it down fairly quickly.’
‘Who?’
‘A guy called Ramsay and some other guy.’
‘From HUAC?’ George kicked the sofa. ‘Goddamn it! Why are they dragging you into it?’
‘Because it’s common knowledge you and I are good friends.’
‘We need to break up,’ he said matter-of-factly.
‘That’s rather melodramatic and not necessary.’
‘You can’t mess with these people, Lena.’
‘I’m not messing with them, I’m just not giving them anything they ask for,’ she said.
‘You don’t want them adding you to the witch-hunt.’
‘They have no reason to.’ That part was true, though the last thing she wanted—or needed—was for her history to be dragged into the present.
‘That’s it then.’ George went to his wardrobe and pulled out his suitcase. He grabbed shirts and jackets off the hangers and packed like a madman.
Lena got up and grabbed his hands. ‘Running will make you look guilty.’
‘Staying will only cause more problems. I don’t need to remind you what happened to Oscar.’
‘Okay, okay.’ She let go and stood back. Surely there was something she could do. What, though? ‘George.’
He stopped packing and looked up. The circles under his eyes were as dark as his hair.
‘Can you give me some time?’
‘For what?’
‘For me to sort this mess out.’
‘How?’ The agitation in his voice was out of character.
‘I …’ She had absolutely no idea but wasn’t willing to admit that. ‘I have contacts. Good lawyers. Let me talk to them and see what can be done.’
‘I can’t afford a lawyer.’
‘I can.’
‘Hiring a lawyer makes me look guilty,’ he said.
‘Hiring a lawyer means you have a fighting chance of getting HUAC to back off and leave you alone.’
George sat on the chair. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Please?’
‘Okay.’ He stood and closed the suitcase. ‘But I’m not unpacking just yet.’
Lena forced a smile even though her mind screamed that all this could be too little, too late.
CHAPTER 28
1952 – Hollywood
By the time Lena arrived at her house she was exhausted. She collapsed on one of the three sofas in her main living area and looked around. The pale green walls brought freshness into the expanse, and the earthy tones of the large rug reminded her of the land she grew up on. It felt like a lifetime away.
A knock echoed through the foyer and into the living room. Lena got up, wrapping her cash
mere cardigan firmly around her. As she walked towards the door she glanced at the clock. Eight thirty-seven. Only one person she knew would turn up at this hour and know she’d answer.
Yanking open the door, she said, ‘George, what’s … oh.’
‘Miss Lee.’ Reeves tipped his hat and offered a large bunch of irises.
She took them but didn’t invite him in. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I noticed you weren’t your usual self today and I got talking with Stuart—’
‘He told you what happened?’ So much for keeping everything quiet. If Reeves knew, who else did?
‘Actually, they spoke to me as well.’
Lena motioned for him to come in and they walked to the kitchen where she opened and closed cupboards trying to find a vase. Her maid, Rita, had retired to her quarters at the far end of the house a couple of hours ago.
Reeves opened a cupboard door next to the sink and pulled out a crystal vase she didn’t recognise. ‘Will this do?’
‘How did you know it was there?’
He shrugged. ‘My mother keeps her vases next to the sink.’
‘Does everyone do that?’ Lena tried to think if her mother did the same. The house was always full of roses from the garden, but they were never in vases, always empty milk bottles. Did her mother even own a vase?
Reeves ran the tap and she filled the vase with water then unwrapped the flowers and arranged them in an orderly manner.
‘Thank you.’
‘You are welcome.’ He sat on the stool next to the island bench. ‘I’m sorry for turning up so late.’
‘You could have called.’ Why was she being so … unemotional?
‘I could have but some things are better discussed in person.’
For a fleeting moment she wondered if he was referring to her telephone being bugged but she dismissed it as a wild idea that only happened in movies. Although … no. That was ridiculous.
‘Thank you for your concern but I’m okay.’
Reeves raised an eyebrow and she instantly felt guilty for lying through her teeth.
Her legs gave way and she sat on the stool next to him. ‘I’m far from okay. All this is out of the blue and now poor George is being accused of all kinds of crazy things.’
‘And you’re being dragged into it.’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but it’s not about me.’
‘Lena?’
‘Hmmm?’
‘What can I do?’ The sincerity in his eyes made her feel terrible. For the first time in years, she felt compelled to blurt out everything, but she couldn’t. She was accustomed to holding it all in. How could she possibly let it out now?
‘Thank you for the offer but there’s not much any of us can do right now. I’ve got my legal team helping George but aside from that, we just have to sit tight. We’ve seen it before. HUAC go on a mission and start spreading fear and doubt through the industry in the hope that we’ll turn in our own and when we don’t, they start scrounging for anything that will fit their agenda and justify their existence.’
‘You’re not a fan, I take it.’
Lena laughed then stopped. She had to be more careful. ‘I am not a fan of witch-hunts.’
‘And there have been many in the past. I get it.’ He cocked his head in the direction of the stove. ‘Would you like me to make you some tea?’
‘Sure. Thank you.’
Reeves got up and worked his way around the kitchen while the kettle came to a boil. He was dressed casually in trousers and a sports jacket. She liked the fluidity of his movements, his strong hands holding the delicate cups and saucers with care. She liked the way he poured the boiling water into the teapot, ensuring the tea-to-water ratio was perfect. She liked his enjoyment of the tea ritual, like it was a precious moment that needed to be savoured.
Reeves brought over a tray laden with tea cups, a pot of brewing tea, milk, sugar and spoons. ‘How do you like it?’
‘One sugar and a dash of milk. Thank you.’
He handed her the cup and saucer and she took a tentative sip. ‘This is wonderful.’
‘My grandma is English.’
‘Ah.’ She revelled in the sweet, hot liquid. ‘Thank you for checking in on me.’
‘It’s my pleasure.’ He put down his cup. ‘And I made sure the coast was clear upon my arrival.’
‘Thank you. So … the first scene went well today.’
‘It did.’ Reeves slowly pushed the cup and saucer away. ‘That’s not why I’m here.’
‘I thought …’ Her words fell away when her eyes connected with his. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Because I’m concerned. I want to know how you’re coping with the fallout about Montreaux.’
‘It’s been a circus, as expected.’ She sighed. ‘Then again, when is it ever any different? We live in a fish bowl.’
‘True.’
‘Which is why it’s impressive you made it here without being detected,’ she said.
‘I borrowed my agent’s car.’
‘He knows you’re here?’ Normally a male visitor at this hour of the evening wouldn’t be a problem, though given the events with Pierre she needed to be cautious.
‘He knows better than to ask questions.’
‘Smart man,’ she said.
‘Have you seen Montreaux?’
‘Since he defected? No. And I’m not interested, either. I have no time for someone who finds betrayal as natural as crossing the road.’
It had taken some time for her to recover from the initial shock of Pierre leaving, and when the full severity of the situation hit, it had been hard to take. Still was.
‘You never suspected this could happen?’
‘No.’ And that was what hurt—Pierre Montreaux hadn’t cared enough to tell her his plans. ‘I thought we were in a partnership, but I was wrong. I’m not going to make that mistake again.’
‘The actions of one man don’t represent the rest of the men on this planet.’
‘Though there are certain traits I have seen again and again.’ When had she become so cynical?
‘I’m sorry you see it that way. I’d like to think I could change your mind.’
She looked away, scrambling for words that wouldn’t come.
Reeves didn’t restart the conversation and the air grew thick. He’d made an effort to visit her in person yet now silence shrouded them, and she didn’t know how to break it.
Eventually, he ran his fingers through his dark hair. ‘There’s a conversation we never really finished.’
‘Not tonight, Reeves. Please.’
‘It’s important.’
‘More important than HUAC harassing people?’ she asked.
‘In my eyes, it is.’
Her fingers ran across the cool, smooth marble of the counter-top. She could stop this conversation in its tracks, though a part of her wanted—needed—to get it out in the open. Although today had been a huge rollercoaster, she hoped this conversation wouldn’t send her off the rails.
‘Lena?’
‘Fine. Okay.’
Reeves’s smile shouldn’t have had such a marked effect on her, but it did. The crinkle lines around his eyes softened his entire face.
‘Do you remember when we kissed?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’ This conversation was such a bad idea.
‘Don’t look so scared, you don’t need to be concerned, I promise.’ He splayed his hands on the marble and stared at them for a moment. ‘The thing is, I shouldn’t have kissed you.’
‘Gee, thanks.’
‘Don’t get me wrong, I really wanted to kiss you then—and now—but I didn’t realise how complicated things were. And I couldn’t foresee the complications we have now.’
‘You and I aren’t complicated. We’re filming a movie together, that’s it.’
‘Is it really that straightforward?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’ The lump in her throat made it hard to swallow.
‘So, you don�
��t want me to kiss you again? Ever?’
‘You’re kissing me in front of cameras shortly.’ Visions of their clandestine kiss on the studio lot caused a thin film of perspiration to break out on her body.
Reeves laughed. ‘A scheduled kiss in front of the cameras is not the same.’
‘No, it’s not. Although …’ She bit her lip, debating her sanity. ‘Maybe we should do a practice kiss.’
Reeves laughed then halted. ‘You’re serious?’
‘Why not? The crew and Henry need to see us fumble and whatnot.’
‘Fumble? Whatnot? How bad a kisser do you think I am?’ He punctuated this with a wry smile.
‘I’m not … I’m … Look, the last time we kissed it was nice.’
‘Nice?’
‘Wonderful, okay?’ Why was this so painful?
‘I thought so, too.’
‘And that’s my point. We are supposed to be actors who are kissing for the first time and I just think that we need to make it look like that.’
‘By practising now?’ He tilted his head to the side.
‘Yes.’ She took in his confused expression and paused to get her thoughts straight. ‘I don’t know about you, but that kiss was the most natural, comfortable thing I’ve done.’ What was she saying? She’d never told any man exactly how she felt. Yet here she was, about to let her thoughts and feelings flow out like a waterfall after a glacial melt.
‘I felt the same way.’
‘So, we need to make it look awkward. To, you know, fool everyone.’
Reeves moved towards her. ‘I’m happy to practise awkward.’
Her gaze rested on his lips. Those beautiful lips she’d wanted to kiss again for what seemed an eternity.
‘Awkward is good,’ she breathed, her pulse racing.
The second their lips met, any idea of practising instantly disappeared. Reeves wrapped his arms around Lena and her body melded against his. Hands explored curves. Kisses intensified. Breathing grew shallow.
‘We need to stop.’ Reeves drew back, his dark eyes searching hers. ‘This is far from awkward.’
She pulled him closer. ‘To hell with awkward.’
The Cinema at Starlight Creek Page 27
