Secrets of Cavendon

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Secrets of Cavendon Page 23

by Barbara Taylor Bradford


  “I know you like Le Chat Noir, because my bossy big brother gabbed about how much you enjoyed it. Shall I take you there?”

  “Arnold has heard me raving about Le Chat Noir, there’s something very inviting about it, and the food’s nice. Could we go there, please? You’ll like it, I know.”

  “I’ll book a table right now. Shall we say seven? Or is that too early?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “See you later, Elise.”

  “Yes, you will, Alistair.”

  After hanging up the phone, Elise sat back in her chair, the story she was editing forgotten for a moment.

  Finally, at last, they were going to get together. She had really taken to Alistair that night at Greta’s supper, at the beginning of October. He had chattered to her all evening, stayed by her side, and asked her if he could phone her on Monday to make a date.

  And then he hadn’t rung her, and she had been disappointed, felt foolish, and even a bit angry. She had shoved thoughts of him to one side, pushed her head into her typewriter, and got on with work. Work had always been her savior.

  A day or two later, that same week, Arnold had phoned her at the newspaper to explain that Alistair had been taken very ill and was in hospital.

  After Alistair had been operated on for appendicitis and was recovering, Arnold had phoned again and asked her if she would like to go with him to visit his brother.

  She had agreed at once and was thrilled when she saw how pleased Alistair was to see her. In fact, he didn’t stop smiling at her for the entire time she was there at the hospital that day.

  I was right about him, she thought. I knew he was decent and sincere when we first met. We clicked that night. And I hope we can stay clicked.

  Thirty

  Whatever was going on in her personal life, Alicia was a quintessential professional, and her work always came first.

  She had the clever knack of being able to pigeonhole things and focus on the most important matter at hand. In this instance, her part in the film.

  And so she had managed to push away her anger with Adam, bury her hurt that she had not heard from him in days. Since their row, in fact.

  But then she knew that nobody else had received any communication from him, either. Even Mario, the producer and his partner, seemed baffled by Adam’s silence.

  She told Charlie this now, as they sat together in the bar of Siegi’s Club on Charles Street in Mayfair. “Anyway, I’ve had a busy few days, and work has been a solace,” she added. Picking up her glass of champagne, she clinked it against Charlie’s and said, “Here’s to you, darling, and your new book. I know it will be a great success.”

  “And may I say that I’m sure your film will be a big hit.” After a sip of the champagne, he continued, “It was such a relief to get the proofs back today, and now I can start thinking about my next one.”

  “Good heavens, Charlie, so soon! You’re a glutton for punishment.”

  “I have an idea I’d like to pursue, and I want to talk to Aunt Diedre about it. But let’s get back to Adam Fennell. Look here, I don’t think his silence is indicative of anything really serious, like a breakup between the two of you. First of all, he’s in New York on business, and then there’s the time difference.”

  “I agree with you.” Alicia fell silent for a few seconds, and then shook her head, pursed her lips. “It’s just that he behaved in such a childish way, sounded so jealous and possessive.”

  “Ah well, my dear, that’s men for you. Or should I put it this way, that’s a man in love with you. And I think he is rather serious.”

  Alicia frowned. “You do?”

  “I’d bet my bottom dollar on it, kiddo,” he murmured, using the lingo of their youth. “I have to admit, I do like Adam a lot and I think you fit well together.”

  “He’d preen if he heard you say that,” she shot back in a sarcastic tone.

  Charles looked at his sister carefully, and after a moment, he remarked, “You sound as if you think the idol has feet of clay. Are you off him? No longer enraptured?”

  Her brother sounded so dour she had to laugh, and answered quickly, “No, I’m not off him, nor disenchanted. I guess I’m just a bit ticked off that he didn’t believe me, when I said I was out with you. Doesn’t that show lack of trust?”

  “A little bit, I suppose, but then remember he was probably frustrated he couldn’t speak to you, when he’d been longing to do so. All day, perhaps. Mmmmm, well, let’s face it, men in love can become quite irrational.”

  Alicia gave Charlie a warm smile and picked up her drink. “This is the only glass I can have this evening, Charlie. I have a very big scene tomorrow and I’ve got to look good, sound right, and do my stuff.”

  “I’ve no fears about you. In fact, now’s my chance to tell you that my hat’s off to you, the way you’ve worked so hard since you were twenty. You’re a fabulous actress, and now is your time. I think you’ll have all the accolades you deserve with this one.”

  “Thank you. And what I’m really proud of is that I’ve hardly ever been out of work. And, like you, I have supported myself. I’ve never asked our parents for financial help, and neither have you.”

  “That’s true. And I prefer it that way. How are they? Have you heard anything lately?”

  “I had a letter from Mother last week, wishing me luck with the film. They seem to be in good shape at the moment.”

  “I was speaking to Dad the other day and he more or less indicated they would be staying in Zurich until the spring.”

  “I think Cecily might be upset if they don’t go to Cavendon for Christmas. But what can you do?” She shrugged, glanced at her watch. “Can we go upstairs for dinner, please, Charlie? I don’t want to make it a late night.”

  “Absolutely.” He swallowed the last of his champagne and together they left the bar and went upstairs to the dining room. Within minutes they had been seated and were looking at their menus.

  After a moment, Alicia stared at Charlie over the top of her menu and said, “I bet we’re going to eat the same thing.”

  He grinned. “We usually do, don’t we?”

  “I’m having oysters, and then steak Diane.”

  “Ditto, darling.”

  Charlie ordered their food and another glass of champagne, but Alicia settled for water. Wanting to get off the subject of Adam, she asked Charlie what his plans were for Christmas.

  “Talking about our parents a moment ago has left thoughts of Christmas lingering in my mind,” Alicia began. “From what you told me they are staying in Zurich. Dulcie and James are in Los Angles. However, they might make it back if James finishes his current film.”

  “I’ll tell you honestly, Alicia, I don’t want to go to Zurich,” Charlie confided. “You know how much I love our traditional Christmas at Cavendon. I’m a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, I suppose, and I’ll be at home in Yorkshire. What about you?”

  “Adam said something to me about going to Beverly Hills, and that really is a problem for me, for the same reason as you. I prefer to be at Cavendon. Also, I don’t want Aunt Cecily and Uncle Miles to feel deserted by all of us,” Alicia said.

  “I agree. Aunt Diedre, Robin, and Uncle Will will be there, and so will Aunt Charlotte, of course.”

  “And what about our siblings? Any ideas about them?” Alicia asked.

  “Thomas and Andrew will definitely go to Zurich. After all, they work in Dad’s company, run it for him now. But Annabel will be at Cavendon, I’m sure,” Charlie said.

  “I feel badly I haven’t seen her lately. Have you?” Alicia said, thinking of their youngest sibling.

  “I went to the art gallery the other day and took her out for a quick lunch,” Charlie replied. “She’s the most self-contained and independent person I know. She’s determined to do her own thing. She still loves playing the piano, I know that, but after Alex Dubé died so did her ambition to be a concert pianist.”

  “Sad, that. She is wonderfully talented, and I�
��ve always thought of Annabel as a musical prodigy. Do you think our mother put her off? Persuaded her not to try for the concert stage?”

  Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know, but I don’t think so. Annabel’s a pragmatist, and by the way, she’s looking marvelous. She told me a long time ago that she wanted to earn her own living. Her other passion has always been art; you know that she loves being Dulcie’s partner, running the gallery in Conduit Street.” Charlie grinned and added, “And like you, she spoke about Christmas when we had lunch. I suppose it’s on all of our minds.”

  “Well, let’s face it, it’s not that far away,” Alicia murmured, wondering if Adam would create problems if she didn’t go to Los Angeles. She pushed that thought to one side. I’ll deal with that another day, she decided.

  Charlie saw the waiter headed their way. He said, “Here come our oysters. Alicia, why are you looking so puzzled? Or is it troubled?”

  “Ah nothing, forget it … I was just wondering if Adam might be difficult about Christmas.”

  “Invite him to Cavendon. He wouldn’t want to turn that down. Nobody would.”

  * * *

  The following morning Alicia was picked up early by the studio car and was on her way to Shepperton by six o’clock. It was Thursday, and the big shoot of the week. Not in length of time, but of importance in the story line. As often happens, the scene was being shot out of context. When the film was edited, it would be at the end.

  Alicia thought of that as she settled back in the car, and silently thanked God for their continuity girls, who kept a check on everything.

  Very purposely, she had put Adam out of her mind. Instead she was concentrating on Victoria and wondering what would happen this coming weekend down in Kent.

  The two of them had enjoyed driving back to London together, and Victoria had told her about the club and the work Christopher wanted to do with veterans.

  What was so marvelous was that the charity would benefit soldiers and sailors as well as airmen.

  A good man, Alicia thought, and she found herself relaxing, understanding, all of a sudden, that the famous war hero could be trusted to do the right thing. He was a man of honor and integrity.

  She had told Victoria that she was in charge, but now Alicia changed her mind. It was Christopher who would be calling the shots. He knew all the ramifications, realized what he was capable of, and what being with a woman would entail. Just as he was aware that any woman who took him on would be faced with enormous responsibilities. He would make the right decision for them both. Instinctively, she knew that no matter what, Victoria was safe with him.

  * * *

  Once she was in her dressing room at the studio, Alicia took off her coat and headscarf and went straight to Makeup, where Anna Lancing was waiting for her.

  They had worked together for a long time, and after their usual jocular greetings, Alicia sat down in the chair and allowed Anna to go to work on her face. They never spoke when Anna was applying cosmetics. She needed a face that was immobile.

  Alicia let her thoughts drift, moving from Victoria going to Romney Marsh to her mother in Zurich, to Cecily battling it out, in one way or another, at Cavendon. She would be there for the weekend, fully intending to clean out her closets, as she had promised her aunt she would.

  Cecily kept a hamper at one end of the staff dining room next to the kitchen. It was there for the family to leave clothes they no longer wanted. The discarded items were eventually sent to the Salvation Army in Harrogate, who gave them to needy families. It was a tradition that had been started years ago, and Cecily insisted on maintaining it.

  Thinking of clothing had Alicia zeroing in on the Royal Command Film Performance, which was not too far off now. She mentally went through her own jewelry, wondering what to wear with the blue tulle ball gown, and then remembered she had a lot to choose from. Cecily kept a chest full of jewelry at Cavendon. It was imitation, of course, items from her Cavendon Collection, which she sold in her shop in the Burlington Arcade.

  When her makeup was finished, Alicia went next door to Hair, and then back to her dressing room. Marriette Tufton, her longtime dresser, was waiting for her, and within minutes she was in her costume and fully ready to go out to the soundstage.

  Once she arrived, she was greeted by the technicians as she carefully stepped over wires and avoided equipment, making for the set where she would do her scene.

  The director, Paul Dowling, came to welcome her, as did her leading man, Andrew Vance. The three of them stood talking for a few moments, and then Andrew led her over to the set.

  Alicia had a special talent that, in a way, gave her an advantage over other actors. She had an extraordinary memory, a photographic memory, in fact. She knew her words by heart very quickly. They were so solidly embedded in her memory bank, she was totally free to concentrate on her acting. The words just automatically flowed out of her naturally.

  A technician shouted: “Camera. Lights!” And then Dowling called out: “Action!”

  The set was decorated as a country kitchen. Alicia and Andrew were standing in the middle of it. She began to speak first, softly, her manner gentle, full of kindness, as she told Andrew, her lover in the film, that she was going back to her husband and family. That they must now separate. She was leaving him.

  Andrew, a very good actor himself, reacted instantly. He appeared stunned, then tearful, became angry, went back to being tearful.

  Suddenly the shouting started. The anger erupted once more. The words became harder, nastier, harsher, and louder. There were tears. She screamed when he grabbed hold of her roughly. She struggled, freed herself.

  And then, finally, there was the anger-filled exit as Andrew stalked out of the kitchen in a fury. Alicia was left alone in the kitchen, tears rolling down her face.

  Alicia was certain the director had got it in one take. To her surprise, Paul put them through their paces again, then a third time, and a fourth, before he was totally satisfied.

  Finally the director called, “Cut. And print.”

  Before Paul could say words of praise to his two actors, some of the crew began to clap, and then, from a distance a voice cried, “Bravo! Bravo!”

  Everyone glanced around, mystified.

  It was Alicia who saw him first. There he was, Adam Fennell, walking out of the shadows from the back of the soundstage, coming onto the set, as resplendent as usual. Crisp white shirt. Perfectly tailored dark blue suit. Ironed from head to toe, she thought.

  He had a smile as big as a week on his face as he walked directly to her, put his arms around her, and kissed her on the mouth.

  She found herself succumbing to him. She kissed him back and passionately so.

  Around them the crew went wild. Whistling, cheering, clapping. For a moment she thought they would never stop. It was their genuine excitement, seeing the magic and the make-believe of film spilling over into real life. That was what they did, didn’t they? Create make-believe and magic. Unexpectedly it had become reality.

  When he finally let go of her, Adam took her face in his hands and stared deeply into her eyes. He said, in a low, contrite voice, “I’m sorry, so very sorry. I got caught up in business, distracted by it. But I did do it, Alicia. I’ve secured the money for your next film, my darling.”

  He smiled at her, touched her cheek, and walked away, heading for the director.

  Startled by his words, Alicia kept her eyes on him as he spoke to Paul. He had been raising the money for Dangerous. She felt a little thrill of joy. She continued to watch him as he then went over to Andrew, obviously congratulating her leading man. And then he talked to the cameraman and the entire crew actually, laughing, showing them he was a grateful producer. She looked around, suddenly wondering where Mario was, but she couldn’t see him anywhere.

  It works, she thought, Adam’s combination works, and he knows it will. It’s the charm, that hail-fellow-well-met attitude. He might be their boss but he’s also their pal. A good mate who sho
ws his gratitude.

  And she loved Adam for making them feel good. And the anger slipped away and the hurt healed and she was full of admiration for him.

  Thirty-one

  Adam Fennell, quick-witted and calculating, knew that the scene he had created on the soundstage had brought Alicia back to him. Their long passionate kiss in front of the crew had proved that. But now he had to clinch the deal with her. There was no time to waste.

  As soon as she emerged from her dressing room, he whisked her out to his car, and on the way back to London, he told her he was taking her to supper to celebrate. And then he piled praise on her, congratulated her, told her she could win an Academy Award for her performance in this film.

  He promised he would make her a big star no matter what. He also told her several times how much he loved her and in a way he had never loved any other woman before in his entire life.

  He was well known around town, and Adam was greeted with great cordiality by the maître d’ at the Grill Room of the Dorchester Hotel.

  They were seated at one of the best tables, in a quiet corner, and he ordered a bottle of Dom Pérignon at once. He then sat back in his chair, beaming at her.

  She smiled back, reached out and took his hand, which was resting on the table. “Thank you for putting together the deal for Dangerous, Adam. I do appreciate it, truly. And I’m very excited.”

  “You’re going to be even more excited when I tell you that I have bought another script for you. It’s called Revenge, and in many ways, I think it’s the better script of the two. It reminds me of Notorious. Did you see that film?”

  “I did. It came out a couple of years ago, and starred Ingrid Bergman, Cary Grant, and Claude Rains.”

  “And it is probably the best film Hitchcock has made, so far in his career. He directed and produced it in 1945 and early 1946, and it was released in the summer of 1946. I’ve seen it a dozen times. I think of it as a spy film noir. Revenge is not the same story, obviously, but it could be a film noir … and put us both really on the map.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t be so modest. You are on the map.”

 

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