The Cinema of Lost Dreams

by Alli Sinclair

  She placed her drink on the coffee table.

  “Lena.” Reeves also put down his drink. “I don’t want what happened between us to be a one-time thing.”

  “It should be, though.” She hated saying it. “We’re professionals, and our personal lives should be separate. Besides, how would it look to the public? Jeanne is in rehab, for goodness sake!”

  “Jeanne and I stopped being an item a very long time ago.”

  “But the public still believes you’re together. We can’t do this, Reeves. If word ever got out about our tryst, it could kill our careers. The public are not that forgiving. Nor is HUAC.”

  “Why do you care so much about what people think? What about you?” He leaned forward, his eyes earnest. “What do you want?”

  “I…” Her mouth felt dry, and she glanced at the martini.

  “Try to imagine the rest of the world doesn’t exist—no producers, no directors, no Jeanne, no Pierre, no journalists scrounging for fodder for their magazines and newspapers, no public eagerly devouring gossip. What do you want?”

  She studied her hands in her lap, forcing herself to hold back tears.

  “What does your heart tell you, Lena?” Reeves’s question was quiet and sincere.

  She took a long, deep breath. “I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that.”

  “Say whatever you want, I’m not going to judge.”

  She closed her eyes, hoping the tears and tumultuous emotions would stay at bay. “I’ve worked so very hard to get where I am. I’ve sacrificed a lot. I miss my family desperately. I miss where I grew up. I’ve lost friends. I love what I do, but I hate being in the public spotlight, because everything I do and say is judged harshly and misconstrued. However, I love that I can live in a place like I do. I love that I’m now in a position to help struggling actresses. I greatly appreciate the luxuries this work has afforded me. But…” She paused, scared to admit it, but needing to. “In a world where people are flocking to be in my company all the time, I’m lonely.”

  Reeves reached across the table and gently took her hand. “You don’t need to be.”

  She pulled away. “We have enough going on with the movie. We really shouldn’t confuse things.”

  “It’s already too late for that.” His eyes were earnest. “I’m lonely, too. We don’t need to be sailing different waters.”

  “Reeves.” She tried to draw up courage to say it. “It’s not just us. There’s so much you don’t know about me and…” How to say this? “And I don’t know if I’m ready to share just yet.”

  “Did you murder someone?” He laughed.

  “No!” she yelled. “Absolutely not!”

  “Okay!” He held up his hand. “I was only joking.”

  “Sorry,” Lena said quietly, kicking herself for her dramatic reaction. She averted her gaze. It was now or never. “I’m Australian.”

  “What?”

  “I’m Australian.” She said it louder, letting the Australian accent she’d hidden for years roll off her tongue. It felt good. Like a part of her had been freed.

  “Why have you kept this a secret?”

  Lena’s mouth hung open. “You’re not angry I’ve not told you before?”

  “Why would I be angry? You clearly started this charade years ago—way before we met. I’m glad you’re telling me now, though.”

  “Errol Flynn,” she blurted out.

  “Errol Flynn?”

  “Yes, Errol Flynn, he of the swashbuckling movies,” Lena said.

  “I know who he is, but what does he have to do with you?”

  “I can’t entirely blame him—he put Australia on the map in Hollywood. I know lots of people love him because of his bad-boy ways, but there is a huge double standard when it comes to the way men and women behave. It’s hard enough making it in this industry without everyone assuming that I have loose morals and drink too much because I’m Australian.”

  “People really say that?”

  “Time and again.”

  “But we’ve had plenty of foreign actresses make it big here. Hedy Lamarr is Austrian, Marlene Dietrich is German, Greta Garbo is Swedish—”

  “But none of them are Australian. Name one big-name Hollywood actress who is Australian.”

  “I can’t.”

  “My point exactly. All the actresses you mentioned have gorgeous, exotic accents. Not mine.”

  “Your accent is as beautiful as you are.”

  “Casting directors don’t think so.” She crossed her legs. “Wow. I never knew letting all this out could feel so good.”

  “You’ve kept all this bottled up? No one has ever known the true you?”

  Lena bit her lip, fearing she may have opened Pandora’s box a little too wide. This was more than enough information for now. When the time was right, she’d reveal the rest.

  “Never in a million years did I think you were from anywhere but here.”

  “I have a good ear, and acting comes naturally.”

  “Obviously.” Reeves slid back on the chair and put his hands behind his head. “But it does make me wonder how else you’ve been practicing your acting skills.”

  “If you’re referring to us, rest assured it is not an act.” She was indignant.

  “I never doubted that.”

  “I’m glad,” she said.

  “Does anyone else know?” he asked.

  “My agent, and a couple of others, but that’s it.”

  “Yvonne and George?”

  “It doesn’t matter who. The thing is, I’m trusting you with my career on this. I hope you don’t prove me wrong.”

  “You have that little faith in me?” he asked.

  “No, I… It’s just that…oh!” She shook her head. “I’ve spent so long living this lie that I don’t know how to be me. I don’t even know who me is!”

  Reeves knelt in front of her, his hand reaching for hers. “Then let’s find out.”

  The moment their lips met, any worry of fallout from her revelation disappeared. Reeves left a trail of soft, warm kisses along her neck and collarbone, and her body gave in to the desires she’d tried to suppress. Maybe now, in the arms of the man she couldn’t resist, Lena would finally find out who she truly was.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  1952 – Hollywood

  Once more, Reeves left Lena’s bed before the sun made an appearance. She touched her lips, lost in the memory of yet another night of ecstasy with the man she was falling for. Had fallen for. As much as she wanted to deny it, Reeves Garrity was under her skin.

  Resistance was futile.

  A shot of panic pierced the bliss. She’d just told Reeves one of her biggest secrets. If he ever chose to leak it, she would instantly lose credibility. He may have understood her reasons, but she doubted her adoring fans would. By now, she’d proven herself reliable and talented, regardless of nationality. But no one liked being misled. Fans were smart, and they knew reporters sometimes printed lies, but they’d still feel betrayed by a lie as big as this one. She’d worked too hard and too long for any wrenches to be thrown in the spokes.

  Lena showered and dressed, then decided to skip breakfast. An uneasiness in her stomach made her nauseous, and she wished she could will it away. Regardless, she had to get on set and start the day.

  Driving toward Fortitude Studios, Lena pondered how things would play out with Reeves today. She’d been petrified yesterday, but after yet another night of lovemaking, and their talk, she felt she could hide her affection for him on set. She could do this. She was a professional.

  She was in love.

  Lena sucked in her breath.

  No. No, no, no. Absolutely not.

  But…

  She slowly let the air out of her lungs.

  There was no denying it.

  H
er heart was his. As much as she could give it.

  She turned onto the lot and waved at Barney, who opened the gates. After parking near the studio, she walked into her dressing room, expecting it to be deserted at this early hour.

  “Enjoying my life, are we?”

  Lena dropped her purse, and the contents spilled across the floor.

  “Jeanne? What…how…what…”

  “What am I doing here? I’m out for good behavior.” Her laugh sounded hollow. “I’m gone for six weeks and you move in on my role. I am far from impressed.”

  “Jeanne.” Lena tried to keep her voice steady. “They couldn’t stop production; it would have been too costly.”

  “They’ll lose money with you at the helm, anyway. Who wants to see you in place of me?”

  She tried to push Jeanne’s words aside. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh.” She moved around the dressing room, touching everything like she owned it. “Just checking on things.”

  “I’m sure there’ll be a new role for you soon.”

  Jeanne ran her finger along the top of a painting, then screwed up her nose. “Given they thought I would be on my vacation longer, there’s nothing in the works.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” And she was. It couldn’t be easy finding out someone had replaced you in what was being billed as the movie of the year. “It’s good you were able to come back from your vacation early.”

  “Ugh!” Jeanne threw her hands in the air. “Let’s stop tiptoeing about. I’ve had my eye on you for a long time, and I’ve seen you using your wiles to get what you want.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know exactly what I mean.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t.” Lena wasn’t willing to let Jeanne win this without a fight.

  “Your rise to fame was swift. One minute you’re doing bit parts, the next you’ve got your own movie.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me there weren’t any back-room shenanigans. You cheated me out of that musical theater production all those years ago, don’t think you can keep doing it.”

  “You can’t be more wrong. Just because you—”

  “Now, now. No need for mudslinging.”

  But that was exactly what Jeanne was up to.

  “I hear your friend George Barrett is in a spot of bother.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “I make it my business to know what’s going on around here. I may have been away, but that doesn’t mean I’m not apprised of the latest developments.”

  How long had Jeanne known about Lena taking on her role? Perhaps that was just the fire Jeanne needed in her belly to get herself out of rehab and back to Fortitude Studios.

  “Such a shame George is a communist. Just like his ex-lover, Oscar. You know, they say like enjoys the company of like, and you and George are such good friends. I understand you’ve had a visit from the gentlemen of HUAC.”

  Lena clenched her fists as a band of pain spread around her head. “It’s way too early in the morning to deal with this nonsense. I’m asking you to leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you hear me out.” Jeanne stepped forward, her face inches from Lena’s. “You may be the studio’s darling right now, but rest assured, your star will not shine for long.”

  Lena resisted the urge to step away. Instead, she held her ground. “Your empty threats don’t scare me.”

  “They are far from empty.”

  “Hey, Lena, you’re in— Oh. Hello, Jeanne.” Yvonne entered. “You’re looking well.”

  Jeanne twisted her dark pink lips and turned to Lena. “This conversation is not over.”

  She stormed out the door. Lena collapsed onto a nearby chair.

  “Whoa!” Yvonne’s eyes were wide. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes,” said Lena. “I was caught off-guard, that’s all.”

  “She’s hard enough to deal with at your best, let alone a surprise visit. I guess it was only a matter of time before she confronted you.”

  “You knew she was out of rehab?”

  “I’m sorry, Lena, I thought you knew.”

  “Good morning, ladies!” Vanessa swanned in and wrapped a cape around Lena, then stopped and cupped her hand under Lena’s chin. “Gee. You really need to get some sleep.”

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind,” she muttered.

  “Looks like I have my work cut out for me. Best get to it!”

  * * * *

  Reeves grabbed Lena’s hand and they danced up the stairs, a chorus of men and women singing around them. They glided across the set, their steps in sync, their voices blending beautifully. Never in her life had she felt so at ease in front of the cameras.

  With one last twirl, Lena fell into Reeves’s arms as he dipped her and planted a kiss on her cheek. The electricity that sizzled up her spine almost caused her legs to give way, but Reeves held her tightly.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered, and she had no idea if he meant the performance or her. Either way, she didn’t mind.

  “Cut! Print!” yelled Henry. “Absolutely perfect! Let’s take a break.”

  Reeves helped her to a standing position while the cast filtered toward the makeshift canteen outside the sound stage. The crew went to re-set for the next scene.

  Lena moved toward the canteen, but Reeves grabbed her hand. She turned to face him, his fingers gently squeezing hers. “I’ve missed you.”

  “We can’t do this here.” She removed her hand and stepped away.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “Reeves, I…” She quickly closed her mouth when Jeanne stepped from behind a tree at the side of the set.

  “I knew it.” Her voice was low, fire shining in her eyes. She shoved a manicured finger under Lena’s nose. “I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

  “Jeanne—” Reeves started.

  She held up her hand in front of his face. “I don’t need to hear it. I’ve seen more than enough.”

  “No.” Reeves stepped forward. “You need to hear this. You and I broke up a long time ago, and there was never going to be a reconciliation. We talked about this. We agreed to continue the charade, but that was all.”

  “You will change your mind once you get tired of that—”

  “You and I are over,” Reeves said, his tone serious.

  Jeanne lifted her chin. “We will see about that.”

  She stalked toward the open door of the sound stage, then paused and turned to face the workers who were busy doing their jobs.

  “Just so you know,” she said, loud enough for the crew to stop what they were doing. “I’m back, and I will be starring in Lawrence Doherty’s next project, which will be nothing like this second-rate rubbish you’re filming here.”

  A few crew members exchanged looks. Perhaps Jeanne had been expecting a round of applause? Lena felt sorry for her, as delusion seemed to be clouding her judgment. Jeanne flounced out the door, and Lena stood rooted to the spot, not sure what to say or do.

  Henry walked over to them. “Her ego needs its own zip code.”

  “Looks like she’s recovered,” said Reeves.

  Henry rubbed the back of his neck. “Indeed. The timing couldn’t be worse; we haven’t finished, and she gets to see what she’s missed out on.”

  “I thought she was supposed to be on vacation for weeks, possibly months,” Reeves said.

  “We all know it wasn’t a vacation,” said Henry. “I hope it’s true that Stuart has her working with Lawrence again soon, because I don’t want her hanging around here causing trouble.”

  “I’m sure Stuart has something up his sleeve. He’s always got plans A and B ready to go,” said Lena, hoping this was the case.

  “We’ll see,” said Henry. “Right-o. Let’s get started.”

/>   “Sure,” Lena and Reeves said in unison, then laughed.

  If Jeanne hadn’t shown up, Lena could have claimed today as being close to perfect.

  * * * *

  “Wow,” Anna May said to Lena. The young chorus girl walked around the first of eight bedrooms in the house Lena had recently purchased. Anna May picked up a book about the craft of acting and turned it over in her hands. She put it down, then smelled the spray of orange and red flowers in the vase next to the bed. “This is beautiful!”

  Anna May left the room and Lena followed. Her cheeks ached from smiling. It had taken Lena less time than expected to find the right house and decorate it. Now a group of sixteen women, two to a room, could share and bond and support each other as they took their first steps in their Hollywood acting careers.

  Anna May entered the second bedroom and opened the doors of the wardrobe. Inside were dresses and suits of all colors and sizes. She turned to Lena, her eyes wide.

  “I called in a few favors,” said Lena. “Other actresses have donated outfits, shoes, handbags, beauty products and the like to help with auditions. I remember one of the hardest things when auditioning was having the right clothes to wear, so hopefully these will make it easier.”

  “This is incredible.” Anna May gently stroked a turquoise cashmere sweater. “I can’t believe your generosity.”

  “It’s not just me, plenty of people were willing to help. We’ve all been in your position, and we understand how hard it can be.”

  “But none of you had to do this.”

  “But we want to.” As promised, Reeves had partially funded the house with the proviso that his donation remained anonymous. And as soon as Lena had put the call out to affluent actresses and actors for donations, she’d been surprised by the positive reactions. Clothes, beds, books, sofas…anything and everything that could possibly be needed by young women had been donated. Nearly every single woman Lena had approached thanked her for looking out for the new arrivals, then proceeded to tell Lena about their early days, when they’d felt powerless and at the mercy of people who wanted to take advantage of them. It had broken Lena’s heart, but it had also reinforced why this project was so badly needed.