Miss Glamora Tudor!: The New Chronicles of Barset: Book One

by ILIL ARBEL

  “Jake, this is giving us no other option,” she heard Glamora’s voice.

  “I don’t know about that, Glam,” said Mr. Goldwasser. “We may think of something.”

  “I can’t see what it could be, Jake,” said Glamora.

  Not realizing that she was eavesdropping, since what could these two say secretly, Emma went on fussing with the obstinate buckle.

  “But Glam, my dear, there must be something we could do… what you suggest may be just too difficult for us to live with…”

  Emma looked into the window, amazed by the tension in the usually cheerful mogul’s voice. Mr. Goldwasser and Glamora stood close to each other, with Glamora’s head resting on his shoulder. Emma suspected Glamora was crying.

  “But anyway, I cannot tolerate this situation anymore. The secrecy, the subterfuge… it is killing me.”

  In a flash, Emma understood it all. Mr. Goldwasser was a married man, and estranged from a nasty, domineering, difficult Hollywood wife! He loved Glamora Tudor, and she loved him, and quite possibly they were having an affair! Glamora could no longer tolerate the agony of deceit, or perhaps the wife had found out about it and sent her lawyers, who demanded that they separate. Obviously, Glamora was going to obey and be torn away from her true love…

  “But what will the public say when they find out?” said Mr. Goldwasser. “Would you be able to tolerate their reaction? You know how they treat such matters, I don’t have to tell you.”

  “Yes, Jake, I will have to,” said Glamora.

  Of course, thought Emma. The public would find out about the affair, unless Glamora and Mr. Goldwasser obeyed Mrs. Goldwasser’s demands, and would think Glamora was a terrible, designing woman, taking someone else’s husband like that, using her great beauty and her feminine wiles… but Glamora was not like that at all, thought Emma. Not that Emma exactly approved of affairs; on principle she considered them immoral, but Glamora and Mr. Goldwasser were such thoroughly good people… Emma simply could not tolerate seeing them suffer. She glanced into the window again and saw Glamora, standing very still in Mr. Goldwasser’s arms. Somehow, they looked different from the usual. Emma, whose eye for clothes and appearance in general was always open, no matter what the circumstances, noticed it immediately; Glamora did not tower over Mr. Goldwasser the way she usually did. She was still taller, which was evident when they were holding each other, but not as tall as usual. Her eyes darted to Glamora’s feet, and she saw that Glamora wore flat-heeled shoes! True, they were the most expensive, beautiful, elegant “ballet” flats, the current fashion everywhere, but still, they were flats. The incredibly high heels, Glamora’s trade mark, were gone. Emma knew instinctively that this was a terrible omen. Glamora has given up, has surrendered… Extremely disturbed, Emma quietly moved away from the window. What should she do? Immediately, Edmond’s love for Glamora came into her mind. Edmond would be horribly upset… should she tell him, or keep the awful secret to herself? No, she could not do that. He must know, honesty and kindness demanded that. But it would be sure to break his heart. What should she do? She went further into the garden to think about it privately, to make a decision. Unfortunately, she saw Edmond standing by the vegetable plot, eating green peas in a meditative fashion. He looked up and saw Emma. “Would you like some peas?” he asked. “They are awfully good.” Emma dismissed the pea offer and plunged into the ordeal.

  “Edmond, I have something terrible to tell you,” she said timidly. “I am not sure how to say it, though.”

  “Well, just tell me,” said Edmond. “Can’t be all that bad that I won’t be able to stand it. I did not see anyone getting a telegram declaring death and destruction. Of course, Mr. Goldwasser got the usual two or three daily telegrams, but that is business as usual.”

  Emma did not answer.

  “Listen, Emma,” said Edmond. “You can’t come and make such a dramatic announcement and then not tell me what it was all about.”

  “You are right,” said Emma decisively. “I might as well simply tell you what I saw, and let you draw the proper conclusions. I was passing by the library window, and there was Mr. Goldwasser, kissing Miss Tudor.”

  “That’s it?” asked Edmond, seemingly amazed at her reaction. “What of it? Why should he not kiss her if he wants to? They have known each other for years!”

  “I don’t mean kissing her like a friend, Edmond. It was a real kiss, if you know what I mean.”

  “Well, good for them. Maybe they have decided, after all these years, that they love each other. Why not? Such things happen. And they have so much in common, they can have a wonderful life together.”

  Emma looked at him, her mouth slightly open. She was so utterly shocked by his cavalier and unemotional attitude to the horrendous revelation about his beloved that she forgot her usual reserve. “I thought you were in love with her,” she said bluntly.

  “In love with Miss Tudor? How often have I told you she was old enough to be my mother and that she irritated me with her flirtation? She always wants to have the boys who act with her fall in love with her. Platonic, of course. Sometimes she succeeds, sometimes not; I guess it’s like a hobby with her, and good promotion for the films. Of course Mr. Goldwasser wouldn’t care even if they are now having their own romance, he must know that she is really the soul of loyalty. She is, you know. I may not be her greatest admirer, but I do recognize that she is a thoroughly good woman. But why did you think I was in love with her?”

  “Well, you were always hanging around her, I suppose, and then she really is very beautiful... and a big star, too…”

  “You are a goose, Emma. If you had any sense, which you don’t, you would have known a long time ago that it was you I was in love with from the first day I met you. Why did I have to fall for a silly person when I am so wonderful, smart, and well educated, I will never know.”

  “Oh, Edmond,” said Emma. “I never guessed. This is all too heavenly!” and she rubbed her face against his shoulder in the nicest manner, and they both laughed.

  “We will be the greatest success on both stage and cinema when we finish our studies and get married,” said Edmond after a very satisfactory embrace. “You will design all the costumes to everything I will ever write and produce.”

  “What fun,” said Emma. “You will visit me in Paris, won’t you?”

  “All the time. And you will visit me in London, and when we are done with our studies, we shall get married immediately and set to work!”

  “How lovely,” said Emma. “I can’t wait.”

  “There is just one thing,” said Edmond hesitantly. “I thought you cared so much about Noel…”

  “Noel? Oh, no. I like him very much, of course, he is a very nice man, but the really wonderful person in that family is Lady Merton. He may be quite sophisticated and interesting, and he has an aura of great success, but he is not, well, not very substantial, if you know what I mean.”

  “Well,” said Edmond, rather amazed at Emma’s insight, maturity, and sudden literary way of speaking which she had never expressed before, and never will again, unless she would memorize, in the future, more of Mrs. Morland’s ruminations. “I am not sure I do understand, but it does not matter. I am happy you don’t care about him, that is all.”

  “I only care about you,” said Emma, which settled the matter once and for all.

  Entering the drawing room, Emma and Edmond found Lord and Lady Pomfret, Jessica, Aubrey, Maisie and Nestor sitting there. They looked at each other, wondering if this was the right time to tell the news about their engagement. There was no need to do so, since one look at their happy faces made the situation very clear to everyone in the room, except Lord Pomfret who rarely paid attention to such details. Aubrey assumed the persona of the doddering old father, much like King Lear, giving up a beloved daughter to a relative stranger. “So,” he said with considerable and very effective gloom, which of course he did not feel at all, “I see that you have news for us.”

  “How did you
know, Cousin Aubrey?” asked Emma with some surprise.

  “It’s quite visible, my love,” said Jessica, getting up to kiss her cousin-in-law and Edmond.

  “Congratulations,” said Lady Pomfret warmly. “I am so happy your engagement happened here! Such fun!”

  “Indeed,” said Lord Pomfret, who now realized what was going on and was torn away from his gentle detachment. “This memorable occasion calls for a bottle of the best champagne.” He rang for the temporary butler and when this impressive person appeared, requested the champagne and a set of glasses. The butler left the room, and Lady Pomfret said, “Now, expect congratulations from the entire staff.”

  “But Lord Pomfret did not tell him,” said Edmond. “How would he know the champagne is not required for celebrating the finalizing of the film?”

  “He knows,” said Lady Pomfret. “They always do.” Soon the butler came back with the champagne, cleared his throat discreetly, and said, “If I may congratulate you, Mr. Edmond and Miss Emma, on behalf of the staff…” Fortunately, Mrs. Rivers came in, followed by Miss Merriman, and distracted everyone before they started laughing at the quick fulfillment of Lady Pomfret’s prediction. Emma and Edmond thanked the butler, and he poured champagne for everyone.

  At that moment, just as everyone was raising their glasses, Mr. Goldwasser and Glamora walked in. Glamora was hanging heavily on Mr. Goldwasser’s arm, holding tight, something she rarely inflicted on the mogul, reserving the ordeal for the men she flirted with.

  Before Lord Pomfret could ask them if they would like to join in the congratulations and have a glass of champagne, Mr. Goldwasser raised his hand. “Excuse me, everyone, I must ask for your attention,” he said, looking as if something momentous was on his mind. Glamora seemed extremely tense, with a worried look on her face.

  “I have something to tell you,” said Mr. Goldwasser. “My wife has communicated her wishes to me today, and I plan to comply. Our lives are about to be drastically changed.”

  Emma heart bled for the unhappy couple. She looked at Glamora and there was no doubt, tears were swelling in the large violet eyes. Real tears.

  The room was dramatically silent. Miss Merriman raised her head, with a startled look on her face. A wife? Mr. Goldwasser was married? His behaviour never indicated that, never…

  “Therefore, I have an announcement!” declared the mogul. “Mrs. Goldwasser and I have made a tremendous business decision.”

  “I had no idea that Mrs. Goldwasser even existed,” said Lady Pomfret, goaded into such a blunt statement by the sight of the glamorous actress holding on to Mr. Goldwasser while he was talking about his wife, probably sitting at the moment in their Hollywood mansion. “Where is she?”

  “You are looking at her,” said Mr. Goldwasser. “Glam and I have been married for over twenty years, but of course we had to keep it quiet because Glam had to have an imaginary affair with every leading man, for promotional reasons. Not that she did not enjoy it,” he added, looking at his wife with great affection and tolerance. “She is a born vamp and flirt, but she is getting tired of all that and she wants to drop the youthful image and start sinking her teeth into real, serious, middle-aged roles. So there is no reason for us to hide our married state anymore. We are coming clean.”

  The whole company was so stunned by this second revelation that they remained silent for a long moment. Miss Merriman nearly lost her regular equilibrium and simply stared at the mogul and his wife. Did she suspect, after all, that he liked her, Miss Merriman, with a little more than friendship, and was about to express it, some day? Did she feel slightly betrayed by Glamora’s secrecy, since Miss Merriman helped her to become the new woman she now was? We will never know. Many thoughts darted through Miss Merriman’s mind, all in a flash, but the last one was the honest and open face of Mr. Choyce. He would never conceal anything, have secret plans, or indulge in any form of subterfuge… not Mr. Choyce, not ever. The thought of their understanding and possibly their future happiness made her the first to recover, and she said, “I have no idea if etiquette calls for official congratulations under the circumstances, but I am very happy to hear this news.” And indeed she was. The only unpleasant sensation left was that she felt a little foolish, having been taken in by the ruse. But Miss Merriman never bore grudges; she was above such feelings, and she went over and hugged Glamora.

  For the first time in film history, the public, or, at least, a small representation of it, saw two tears fall out of Glamora Tudor’s large violet eyes, like two precious diamonds tumbling out of velvet boxes. She dabbed at them with an embroidered Swiss handkerchief, leaving her mascara miraculously intact, and said, “Thank you, my dear Merry. It was so hard not to tell you after all you have done for me… And I am so happy…”

  “But Miss Tudor, oh sorry, Mrs. Goldwasser,” said Emma, “what about costumes? This is very important, isn’t it? If you make serious films, like Shakespeare and things, you will not wear these incredible costumes anymore! The whole world loves your costumes!”

  “You will design spectacular costumes for my parts in Shakespeare, my dear Emma,” said Glamora. “Medieval, Renaissance, Ancient Greece, Rome, though to tell the truth, I don’t really know as yet which play occurs in which era, even though I am reading Macbeth now… I’ll have to start reading history if I want to do these types of roles, on top of my current literature studies. And you can also design some elegant and discreet suits and gowns for my future roles as a mother, a villain, a pillar of the community, and eventually – can you imagine – maybe grandmothers’ roles! We shall work together on many films. And really, the time has come for such a change. I don’t want to be the laughing stock of the industry; I would much prefer to be a huge success in my new image.”

  “You will be,” said Nestor fervently. “There will never be anyone quite like you, Miss Tudor, no matter what role you take.” Mr. Goldwasser laughed indulgently and patted the shoulder of the love-struck young man. “Mrs. Goldwasser, my boy. Mrs. Goldwasser. Miss Tudor is gone.”

  “We’ll snap him out of this ridiculous state of mind, Mr. Goldwasser,” said Maisie with some determination. “Don’t you worry about it, Mrs. Goldwasser, he won’t annoy you anymore. Nes, pull yourself together and face the facts like a man. We have a sequel to do and we don’t want pathetic love-struck calves interfering with the huge success I am expecting. You can be a great star, or you can be a silly boy. Not both.”

  “Now, Maise,” said Nestor meekly. “It’s not what you think. I just mean that I admire her so much… Mrs. Goldwasser is a great actress, you know…”

  “Stick to that, my boy, and all will be well,” said Maisie. “But no more gushing and moaning after the moon. Maudlin and silly scripts, yes, that is my trade, and I love them and cry over them and enjoy them thoroughly. But in real life, there is no excuse for such behaviour.”

  “Good work, Maisie,” said Mr. Goldwasser, amused and looking forward to more fun on this front as time went by.

  “What hair colour will you choose for your new image, Mrs. Goldwasser?” asked Emma curiously.

  Glamora laughed. “Dark auburn, of course! It is my natural color. I will allow it to become gradually streaked in white, in the most elegant fashion.”

  “Auburn?” cried Mrs. Rivers. “So why did you say when we just started that you only had it once, when playing an Irish heroine, and that you were not sure it went with your eyes?”

  “I have said many silly things in my time, Mrs. Rivers. At that conversation, I just wanted to be contrary. Nevertheless, I was telling the truth. From a very early age, I only had the natural auburn in that one film, the first I did with Jake. In all the other films I kept changing it; as everyone knows, I had everything from flaxen blonde to jet black.”

  “This is all so difficult to absorb,” said Mrs. Rivers. “How you managed to keep your secret is beyond belief. It was brilliant, Mrs. Goldwasser.”

  “I feel as if I am living inside one of your novels, Mrs. Rivers,” sa
id Lady Pomfret. “So exciting!” Lord Pomfret looked at her affectionately; yes, this weekend had made Sally very happy. It was worth all the trouble, he thought, even dealing with the annoying butler, to see her flushed cheeks and gleaming eyes.

  “Indeed, such a secret could have a plot in it for a good novel,” said Mrs. Rivers. “Very complex, though.”

  “I paid a high price for it, emotionally… For example, you may not remember, Mrs. Rivers, but try to go back to the day when I consented to turn Send Me No Lilies into a film,” said Glamora.

  “Yes, we were walking in the Towers’ garden,” said Mrs. Rivers. “I remember you were suddenly ill, very pale and dizzy. I was very concerned.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Rivers. I appreciate your kindness,” said Glamora, “but I was not ill, I was terrified.”

  “Of what?” asked Mrs. Rivers, surprised.

  “You were describing your next book to me, and mentioned that I inspired it; it was the story of a middle-aged actress falling for a young man…”

  “Oh, yes, I do remember,” said Mrs. Rivers. “But it was nothing to worry someone like you, Mrs. Goldwasser! All the young men are falling in love with you, not the other way around! You are above such trifles!”

  “The young man was not the real issue, Mrs. Rivers. You mentioned, almost in passing, that the actress was married to a big producer of the London stage, and had to keep her marriage secret so that her youthful and romantic image would be maintained. Since this was exactly what Jake and I had to do, I suspected that you knew my secret, and I believed, to my eternal shame, that you were blackmailing me into doing the film. I was so horrified of the thought of discovery that I accepted the offer at once, without much thinking.”

  “My dear Mrs. Goldwasser! I will never forgive myself for giving you such a fright,” said Mrs. Rivers. “I had not the slightest idea of your marriage.”