The Cinema of Lost Dreams

by Alli Sinclair

  “I probably should go.” Lena grabbed her bag.

  “Please don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I like your company.”

  “You do?”

  He tilted his head. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “In this town, people are only friendly when they need something.”

  “Actually, I do need something.”

  She should have known better. Lena stood. “I don’t have anything to give, sorry.”

  “You’ve already given it.”

  “Huh?”

  “Please.” He gestured for her to sit, and she did, intrigued. “I’ve been in Los Angeles for some time and as much as I am loving it, there are aspects that are not so appealing.”

  “Like?”

  “Like the lack of good company.”

  “You looked pretty happy to have Jeanne Harris on your arm last time I saw you.”

  He cleared his throat and looked at his drink. “I have to be seen with Jeanne.”

  “Why?” she asked, then quickly followed it with, “Oh, because of her adventures?”

  Reeves pursed his lips but couldn’t contain the smile. “You could call them that.”

  “She’s as wild as the Atlantic Ocean in winter.”

  “I am beginning to see this. My agent—who happens to be Jeanne’s—also thinks that my presence may have a calming effect on her.”

  “And in return you get exposure in the press.” She leaned back and crossed her arms. “That’s a pretty good deal for you.”

  Reeves rested his elbows on the table. “It sounds great in theory but…”

  “Jeanne.”

  “Exactly.” He sipped his drink. “I shouldn’t be talking out of school.”

  “If anyone knows what Jeanne’s like, it’s me.”

  “What’s the story with you two?”

  “When I first moved to Los Angeles, Jeanne and I roomed together and became steadfast friends. But when Jeanne started getting attention in the right circles, she didn’t want to be associated with the little people anymore, and she dropped me like the proverbial hot potato. In her effort to become a huge star, she’s forgotten the days when we’d share a can of soup as our only meal and how scared we were living in this new city without any idea of what the future held.”

  Reeves fiddled with his empty whiskey glass. “I’m sorry she treated you like that.”

  “Hollywood has a habit of changing people. Friendships rarely last,” she said.

  “I doubt you’ve changed much from the time you arrived. You seem very down-to-earth.”

  “I like to think I am, but who’s to say? This is a cutthroat business and sometimes we have to do things we’d rather not.” She paused. “How long have you been here?”

  Reeves glanced sideways and took some time before replying, “I’ve been here long enough to realize that people like you are breaths of fresh air.”

  She waited for more, but nothing was forthcoming. “And?”

  “And?”

  Good grief. It was like extracting teeth. “And what is your background? Where do you come from? Have you always wanted to be an actor? What are your plans?”

  Reeves held up his hand and laughed. “You like to ask questions, don’t you?”

  Smiling, she said, “I guess I do.”

  “I suspect it will take some time to answer everything. How about you join me for dinner this evening?”

  All the playful banter came to a screeching halt. “I’m not available.”

  “Tomorrow night?”

  “Sorry. I can’t.”

  “The next evening?”

  She shook her head.

  “When can we have dinner?”

  Lena stood once more, this time determined to leave. “We can’t. Ever.”

  * * * *

  After her hasty exit from the bar, Lena caught the bus. She concentrated on the familiar scenery whizzing past—Kirk’s Car Garage, Curly’s Dime Store, Kozlowski Sports—but it became a blurred mess as she tried to hold back tears. She had no idea if they were tears of frustration, disappointment, sadness or anger. Perhaps a combination of them all.

  Refusing Reeves’s offer of dinner wasn’t sitting right. He had been so very kind to her on a day that had turned from wonderful to horrendous in a matter of hours. But Lena couldn’t accept his invitation even though he craved company. She wasn’t ready for an innocent dinner date.

  The bus pulled up to her stop and she alighted. The doors slammed shut and a haze of pollution spewed onto the street as the bus took off. Across the road, she could see her bedroom window in the apartment she shared with Yvonne. It was tiny, but it was a space she loved—her sanctuary from the craziness of the world.

  Lena looked through the windows of Roy’s Diner. The lights around the sign had a few blown bulbs yet to be replaced. Inside the diner, Meryl bustled from table to table, her energy never waning no matter how long the shift. A sudden longing for motherly company overcame Lena and she opened the door. The bell tinkled as Lena entered, and warmth enveloped her.

  “Miss Lena Lee!” Meryl’s smile quickly vanished and she walked over and put her hand on Lena’s shoulder. “Honey? What’s wrong?”

  The tears she’d managed to hold back now came out in a steady stream. Meryl guided Lena to a booth, sat down next to her and put her arm around Lena’s shaking body. Roy arrived a moment later with a banana milkshake, gave it to Meryl and promptly disappeared.

  Meryl put the shake in front of Lena. “This will help you feel better.”

  Lena’s bottom lip trembled as she tried to force the words past the lump in her throat. “Nothing will make me feel better. It’s horrible. Just so, so horrible.”

  “What is, honey?”

  The kindness in Meryl’s voice and the caring in her eyes made it harder, but Lena had to get the words out because if she didn’t, she feared she’d explode with the intensity of her confusion.

  “My role got cut today and I have nothing coming up. Then Reeves Garrity was really nice to me.”

  “Someone being nice to you is horrible?”

  “Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know!” She rested her forehead on the table. Meryl’s gentle touch on Lena’s back helped her shoulders relax and she took a deep breath and sat up. Her eyes stung and felt swollen, but she didn’t care. “I feel like every time I catch a break, something squashes it. This time, it’s the censorship board.”

  “All studios have that problem.”

  “I know. It just feels personal because my big role has been ripped away. Then Reeves Garrity asked me to dinner.”

  “Oh.” Meryl sat back. “I can see why that would upset you.”

  “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “Lena, I know you don’t want to hear this, but don’t you think it’s time you gave yourself a chance? If this Reeves Garrity wants to be nice to you, let him.”

  “I can’t.” She nearly choked on the words.

  “Sweetheart, why are you punishing yourself? What happened with Charlie wasn’t your fault. He wasn’t a good person, and you suffered because of it. Not all men are the same.”

  Lena bit her lip.

  “That’s not all, is it?” asked Meryl.

  Shaking her head, Lena said, “No.”

  “Home?”

  “I miss my family so very much. I haven’t lived with them for over a decade, but lately I’ve been thinking that my parents aren’t getting any younger, and now I have nieces and nephews I’ve never even met.” She sipped the milkshake and her nerves calmed a fraction.

  “You know you have a different kind of family here.” Meryl squeezed Lena’s hand.

  “I do, and I love you all dearly.”

  “Though it’s not the same,” said Meryl. “Would you ever go back?”
>
  Lena shook her head. “Sadly, no. I’m too far down this road now. And I love my work. I really can’t imagine doing anything else. No one in my family can relate to my life here, and I can’t relate to their world—my old world—anymore.”

  “I truly believe that even though people are changed by experiences and circumstances, we stay the same in our hearts. And you, my dear girl, have a beautiful heart, and Hollywood can break people like you.”

  “I won’t let it,” she said, determination creeping in. “I’m strong.”

  “That you are, but you have your feet in both camps—strong and vulnerable.”

  Lena closed her eyes for a moment. “Why can’t I be like Jeanne Harris? She doesn’t care what people think, and that gets her everywhere. We started at the same studio at the same time, the same chorus line, yet…”

  “Would you really like to be like Jeanne?”

  “No.”

  “This is your story to write, no one else’s.” Meryl wrapped her arms around Lena and squeezed her tight. “And it’s a story I love.”

  Lena rested her head on Meryl’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “It’s nothing. If I had a daughter, I imagine she’d be just like you. Now drink your shake before it gets warm.”

  * * * *

  Lena spent all night tossing and turning, replaying the conversation with Meryl in her head. Every so often images of Reeves Garrity crowded in, with his large brown eyes, dark wavy hair and kind smile. Every time, she made a concerted effort to shake him from her thoughts.

  She shuffled into the kitchenette, where Yvonne sat at the table, sipping freshly brewed coffee.

  “Want one?” Yvonne held up her mug. “There’s still some left in the pot.”

  “No thanks.” Lena collapsed on the chair.

  “You could pack my entire wardrobe in those bags under your eyes.”

  “Gee, thanks. Just what I needed to hear,” mumbled Lena.

  Yvonne reached over and grabbed Lena’s hand. “That’s what friends are for—to tell it like it is. How are you holding up?”

  “If you’re asking if I’m going to spend all day in the fetal position, no, I’m not.”

  “You could let yourself wallow for a while, you know,” Yvonne said. “Not that I’ve ever seen you wallow.”

  “Wallowing is not my thing. Besides, I can’t sit around and do nothing.”

  “You could try.”

  They burst into laughter and Lena snorted.

  “Seriously, though, Lena, what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to go see Mr. Cooper today.”

  “What?” Coffee sprayed across the table, and Yvonne wiped it up with the sleeve of her dressing gown.

  “I’m going to ask for a new role in another movie.”

  “You can’t do that! They dictate who does what, and even though you are a very talented actress, you don’t quite have the influence.”

  “But if you don’t ask, you don’t get,” said Lena.

  “No one gets anything unless Stuart Cooper says so. You are crazy to think he’d listen to anyone other than himself.”

  “I’m not asking to be cast in a lead, I just want to know if there are any roles that could replace the one I lost.”

  “Lena…” Yvonne looked at the ceiling, like she was asking God to give her patience. “It’s going to come across like you’re entitled.”

  “Really?” she asked, appalled. “That’s the last thing I want!”

  “You aren’t like the entitled divas who swan around the studios, but you just can’t go up and ask the head of the studio for a new role. It’s not done.”

  “I know plenty of actors who have done it, though!”

  “Because they are men. The rules are different. The only reason women are in movies is because sex sells,” said Yvonne.

  “That’s not what Breen and the Hays Code think. They spend every waking hour saving people from their own lustful thoughts, or ensuring they don’t become influenced to take drugs or become floozies or gangsters.” Lena’s voice was draped in sarcasm.

  “The Hays Code people can rely all they like on their puritan ways, but the reality is that a beautiful woman with a curvy figure will get more men to a theater than Gregory Peck or Clark Gable. Even if the woman is in a suit, men will pay good money to watch her sashay across the screen,” Yvonne said.

  “Women have a lot more to offer than a pretty face or a perfect figure,” said Lena.

  Yvonne smiled. “You’re preaching to the converted. I may spend my days draping women in expensive fabrics and precious jewels, but the fact that Breen and his cronies can dictate how women should behave does not go unnoticed.” She threw her arms wide. “What are we supposed to do about it, though? Say no and end up on the street?”

  Lena got up, walked over to the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. “I don’t have the answers. I don’t think anyone does.”

  “Maybe it’s just the way of the world.”

  “It shouldn’t be.”

  “No, it shouldn’t, but if people in influential positions do nothing about it, how can anything change? It’s a battle we’ll never win, I’m afraid. We’re at the mercy of the decision makers—who are men.”

  “And now I need to go and convince one to give me a role in a new movie.”

  Yvonne stood and wrapped her arms around Lena. “You do know this outrageous scheme is likely to get you fired, right?”

  “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  Chapter Nine

  1994 – Starlight Creek, Queensland

  Claire exited the café, a new lightness in her step. For the past hour she’d spoken with Hattie about how an on-location shoot worked and the expected timeframe for filming. Given Nigel was currently shooting the outdoor scenes near Ashton, Claire had time to get legal to draw up a new contract, have Hattie ask her lawyer to review it and get the final signature. At this stage, nothing was set in concrete, so a dark cloud of worry still hung over Claire’s head—what if Luke Jackson talked his great-aunt out of it?

  Claire crossed the road to her car. Her phone rang loudly, like it was shouting at her. She whipped it from her handbag.

  “Hey, Phil!”

  “It’s Nigel. Got an answer for me yet?”

  “Actually, I do.” Thank goodness.

  “And?”

  “And it’s looking pretty good. Fantastic, in fact. She’s a lovely lady and just needed to understand the importance of this production. I really like her.”

  “Liking her doesn’t get me access to the cinema.”

  “Well, it helps, because now we have a rapport. She has some stipulations, which are totally understandable and very doable, but it’s nice to have her on board. I’m meeting her in an hour to take some interior photographs, and I’ll get them developed as soon as possible. I promise, you won’t be disappointed.”

  “I hope not, because World War III is about to erupt.”

  “Robert?”

  “Yes.”

  “How’s Annalise?”

  “She’s been sent to her aunt’s in Cairns until it blows over.”

  “But she’s okay?”

  “Yes, yes, she’s totally fine. Angry with her folks, but what do you expect? Tony’s been doing a good job here, but it’s not the same as having you in charge. Listen, we’re not far from finishing here, so your skates better be on. By the way, James has been warned about keeping his pants on.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “Which is why you can be his minder.”

  “Pardon?” She wanted to scream “No freaking way!” but pushed it back down. “I work with locations. I have no experience with keeping actors in line.”

  “You’re a people person, and you’re smart. Plus, he likes you, but not enough to have se
x with you.”

  Given that James jumped into bed with any female under thirty with a pulse, Nigel’s comment was far from complimentary. “I’ll have my hands full making sure Hattie’s happy and the crew follow her wishes.”

  “I’ll up your wage fifteen percent.”

  “Uh…thanks?” Claire hadn’t given money a thought, but she was glad Nigel had offered it anyway. She’d put that extra cash in her production fund—a bank account she’d set up especially for making her “one day” production.

  “So, it’s sorted. You stay in Starlight Creek and get things started. I’ll need a comprehensive ground plan, access points, etcetera. You know the drill. Now, break is over. Call me with a report ASAP.”

  “Sure.”

  “Montgomery, there’s one more thing.”

  Uh-oh. “Yes?”

  “Well done.”

  “Thank you! I won’t let you—”

  The line disconnected, and Claire did a little jump for joy. Finally, she was starting to get noticed. One more step up the ladder! Then she remembered her extra responsibility—James Lloyd, Casanova extraordinaire.

  Keeping him in line would be a full-time job. She might as well give up on the idea of sleeping more than four hours a night. It would be worth it, though. Besides, she had that vacation in Bali to look forward to. All would be well in the end. Right?

  Claire shoved the phone back in her messenger bag then fumbled around for her car keys, silently cursing the stupid bag for being so full. She put it on the hood and pulled out her hairbrush, spare underwear and deodorant, notebooks, pens in an array of colors and a small zippered bag that contained her three favorite lip glosses and one mascara. Her keys were nowhere to be found.

  “Where are the stupid little mo—”

  “What are you doing?”

  The bag slipped off the hood and landed on the ground with a thud. A packet of mints split open and rolled under the vehicle while one of her notebooks tumbled out, pages flapping in the light breeze. Claire bent down to gather the wayward contents, but Luke beat her to it. They stood, and he handed over her possessions.