Camellia

by Lesley Pearse

  'There's you, which is equally lovely,' he said gallantly. 'But creeping up on an old man and making him jump could prove fatal.'

  Her laugh was as attractive as her face, low and musical. 'Old age hasn't diluted your charm,' she said, and she put one hand under his elbow to help him up to his feet.

  'Did you sleep well?' Magnus asked.

  'You know I did,' she reproved him with a soft little laugh. 'I just hope discretion was the reason for leaving rather than shock at seeing me minus the war paint?'

  Magnus felt soothed by her openness. 'Definitely discretion. I'm just sorry that your first night in my home was so upsetting. I handled things very badly.'

  Last night he'd wondered if her eyelashes were false, but she wore only the minimum of make-up now and they were certainly real.

  'Old friends can be that penetrating and be forgiven.' She bent over to smell a rose and sighed deeply with pleasure.

  'Are you all dressed up like that to leave?' he asked hesitantly. 'Can't I persuade you to change your mind?'

  'There's no persuasion needed,' she smiled. 'I'd like to stay – well for another night or two maybe. If I looked dressed up, it's just because I've got to go and see a cottage later. But I hoped you might come with me.'

  'I'd like that,' Magnus smiled with relief that she bore no hard feelings. It looked like being a good day after all. 'Where is it?'

  'In a village called Kelston,' she said. 'Someone from the film company called just now about it. Do you know it?'

  'Yes, it's not far away and very pretty,' Magnus said. 'In fact Nick and I often go to the Crown there, for a bit of olde England. But aside from the pub, it's a bit isolated. Wouldn't you be better off in Bath?'

  Helena looked at him, her eyes twinkling. 'Magnus,' she said. 'You've just said my favourite word – not pub but isolation. It sounds just perfect. The owners are going abroad and though they only want to let it for now, they may want to sell it later. Have you got time to sit down and have a chat, or have I got to get down on my knees and join you at the weeding?'

  Magnus had moved the swinging garden settee down by the rockery just a couple of days earlier because it was the most secluded part of the garden and an ideal place to sit in peace, well away from any noise from the terrace bar or the swimming pool. He led Helena over there, then rinsed his dirty hands under the waterfall.

  Her reaction to the swinging seat pleased him. She gave a squeal of pleasure, rushing to it like a child and sitting down, swung it hard with her feet.

  1 just love any kind of swing,' she said gleefully. 'I've always wanted an ordinary rope and plank one, hung under a tree, but if you had one in Hollywood, without a child in the house they'd think you'd lost your marbles.'

  'Am I clean enough to sit beside you now?' he asked, standing in front of her and showing her his clean hands like a Boy Scout at inspection.

  'Of course you are.' She reached out, took his hands in both of hers and drew him down beside her. 'Your hands say a deal about you,' she said thoughtfully, running one perfectly manicured fingertip round the end of his short square nails. 'Strong, capable, but adventurous too.' She turned his palm up and looked at it. 'A long life-line. One big romance and two smaller ones.' She pinched his fleshy mound of Venus. 'That's a good healthy sign. Lots of passion and warmth. Ruth was a lucky lady.'

  'She deserved a great deal better than me,' Magnus sighed. 'Why did I get involved with Bonny? Can you see that in my palm too?'

  'Perhaps we ought to look and see if we have an identical line,' she smiled wryly, her lower lip curling. 'Because I've asked myself that question hundreds of times. She gave me more headaches than anyone I've ever met. Yet, I loved her and so did you. If she'd been born a few centuries earlier she would have been the King's mistress at least. But let's not talk about her just yet. I want to hear more about Camellia.'

  It felt good to sit back on the soft cushions and talk about Mel. The waterfall in the rockery gurgled and splashed, and they didn't even hear the club members beginning to arrive for lunch. Because Helena understood how he had once felt about Bonny Magnus could speak openly. With Nick he had felt obliged to tone down both his memories and feelings.

  'I didn't realise just how much Mel meant to me until I was ill with pneumonia,' he explained. 'I was aware I was very fond of her, and that I'd never felt that way about any other member of my staff. I depended on her too and felt we were close friends, but then you don't analyse your feelings about people do you? At least not until something makes you realise they might just walk out of your life.'

  'You never connected her with Bonny then?' Helena asked. 'Not even a suspicion?'

  Magnus sighed deeply. 'It was always in my mind that one day a girl might turn up and announce herself as Camellia Norton. With someone as devious and unpredictable as Bonny there was a strong chance she would renege on the promises she'd made years before. On the night Mel arrived here, sick and wet through, I did get a sharp jolt. Not only was the name Amelia similar to Camellia, but she was the right age. I said some pretty tough things to her that night. Looking back I suppose I felt threatened.'

  'Did you question her about her background?' Helena asked. 'I mean when she was better and before you offered her a job?'

  'A little, but my housekeeper did most of the digging while Mel was still ill. She said she'd been brought up in London, that both her parents were dead and she'd been travelling and working around the continent. There wasn't anything to be suspicious about – so many young people at that time just bummed around as she had. But you've got to bear in mind that I'd always had a picture of a girl who looked like Bonny in my mind. I expected her daughter to have inherited her character too.'

  Helena smirked knowingly. 'You expected a Marilyn Monroe look-alike to come wiggling in singing "My Heart Belongs to Daddy"?'

  Magnus chuckled. 'I suppose so. The only photograph I ever saw of Camellia was shown to me by John, just a couple of hours before Bonny claimed she was my child. Now had I been shown it afterwards, I would have studied it. But we all know how precious little notice we take of other people's snapshots.'

  'Magnus, I really can't believe you would just accept what Bonny told you on trust,' she said, shaking her head in disbelief. 'You knew what a storyteller she was. If I'd been in your shoes I would have insisted on documentary evidence.'

  'Even if you were afraid that by doing so your wife might find out about it?' Magnus raised one eyebrow questioningly. 'Besides Bonny didn't ever ask for money, she just wanted me to share her guilt. The money side came much later after John died, and I offered it. Perhaps part of me wanted to believe Camellia was my child. Bonny had engraved a place for herself in my heart remember – those feelings don't ever quite leave one. You know what they say: "There's no fool like an old one"?'

  Helena fell silent for a moment or two, mulling everything over in her mind. 'But Camellia was here for two years, Magnus, surely during that time some odd things about her must have come to light. Childhood memories, places, things like that. I avoid telling anyone about my early days, but every now and then I slip up and something comes out.'

  'All she revealed was her character – honest, brave, kind-hearted and extremely hard-working,' Magnus replied. 'She told me just before her first Christmas here that her mother had committed suicide, and she also told me she'd been very fat as a teenager. Now both of those rang true, but neither of them were pointers to Bonny. Any initial suspicion I'd had about her just wafted away. When Nick fell for her I became puzzled again. They were so right for each other.'

  'Tell me about Nick?' she asked. 'You said he was an actor. Is he like you?'

  'He's turned out to be a fine young man,' Magnus said with some pride. 'Better looking than I was at his age. He's got none of my practical nature or his mother's patience, but in the last year or so he's matured considerably. He works hard, takes his acting very seriously and he's fun to have around. He's looking forward to meeting you – he's been a life-long fan of yours
.'

  Helena blushed prettily. 'What did you suppose was Mel's reason for holding him at arm's length?' she asked, swinging the seat gently.

  Magnus shrugged. 'At first that she was playing hard to get or that she was afraid of getting involved with the boss's son. Mel wasn't one for talking about herself and I didn't think it was my place to question her about Nick. Besides he wasn't actually living here. It was only when I got pneumonia that I began to think more deeply about what the real impediment between them could be. I came up with two possibilities: that she had a child somewhere or that she'd run from a violent husband. But you know how it turned out, I told you all that last night.'

  Magnus looked round to see that Helena was mopping at her eyes.

  'For a girl who was tough enough to get to Hollywood,' he said with a grin, 'you are very sentimental.'

  'I just feel so bad about all this,' she sniffed. 'If only I'd known John died, I'd have come back to see Bonny, even at the risk of her turning on me again and sending me away with a flea in my ear. I wonder now if she tried to contact me then, and the letters just never reached me.'

  Magnus's speckled eyes wrinkled up with amusement. 'Helena, you know as well as I do that if Bonny had wanted to contact you, she'd have found a way.'

  He expected her to laugh, but instead Helena began to cry harder. 'Do you have a picture of Camellia?' she sobbed.

  'Only if you stop crying,' he said. 'If anyone walks past they'll think we're having a lovers' tiff or something.'

  She smiled wanly and wiped her eyes. 'I'm sorry, Magnus, whatever must you think of me.'

  'I think you are a softie,' he said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a picture. 'I've got lots of others in my office,' he smiled as he handed it over. 'But this one's my favourite and for some perverse reason I've taken to carrying it around with me.'

  It was the one he'd taken as she was dressing the tree that first Christmas. This one was the first of the series, before she toppled from the stepladder and landed on her back on the floor. She was leaning forward to place the fairy at the top of the tree, her tongue peeping out from her lips, an intent expression on her face. She was wearing jeans and a red sweater, her hair caught up in two bunches.

  Helena stared at it for a moment. 'She's not at all what I expected!' she said eventually.

  'Nothing like her mother!' Magnus agreed. 'But she's lovely, isn't she? A bit taller than Bonny, about five foot seven or eight I'd say, a womanly shape with proper hips even though she's slim. Mind you after I knew who she was I found similarities to my daughter, Sophie.'

  They were interrupted by Julie coming to ask if they wanted some lunch. Magnus hastily put the picture back in his wallet.

  'What would you like to do?' He turned to Helena. 'Go inside or have something out here?'

  'Let's stay here,' she said and smiled at the small blonde waitress. 'It's Julie, isn't it?' she asked.

  Julie blushed nervously.

  'Yes, Miss Forester,' she squeaked.

  'Mrs Downes told me it was you who pressed some of my clothes for me while I was having dinner last night?' she said. 'Thank you so much, it was very thoughtful of you.'

  'I liked doing it, Miss Forester,' Julie said, twitching with excitement. 'My mother used to take me to see your films. I just loved them. I hope you have a lovely stay in England. We can't wait to see your new film.'

  'It will be awhile yet,' Helena said. 'But you and your mother must come to the film set one day and see it being made. I'll arrange it all with Mr Osbourne and have a car sent for you.'

  Magnus thought Julie might very well curtsey before long. She was the colour of a beetroot now, her eyes like saucers.

  'Thank you so much,' Julie squeaked again. 'What shall I bring you for lunch then, Mr Osbourne?'

  'A surprise picnic,' Magnus said, wondering if little Julie would be able to work for the rest of the lunch-hour now. 'Just ask Antoine to put something in a basket.'

  Once Julie had scuttled off, he turned back to Helena.

  'That was nice of you,' he said.

  'My fans are very precious to me,' she replied softly. 'There have been times in my life when without their affection and support I might have cracked up.'

  'Ruth was one of your fans,' Magnus said, smiling at the memory. 'I think she saw Soho about four times. She recognised you from the night at the Savoy and she was thrilled you made it. Sometimes I wonder if it was your influence which started Nick on the idea of becoming an actor. He and Ruth used to cut out your pictures and stick them in a scrapbook. I always wished I could admit I'd once known you pretty well.'

  'Did Ruth ever find out about Bonny?' Helena asked.

  A cloud passed over Magnus's face. 'Not who she was, but she knew there was someone,' he said sadly. 'She didn't tell me right until the end. But that was the way Ruth was. Her family's happiness and mine were always more important to her than her own feelings. I miss her so much, Helena.'

  Helena squeezed his hand in silent sympathy.

  'Tell me about you,' Magnus said in a gruff voice. 'Why didn't you ever marry? Didn't a big enough love come along?'

  'A huge one, over before I even met you,' she said glumly. 'The first, the greatest and the only real one. His name was Charley King, the fireman who dug my Aunt Marleen out of the bombed block of flats. I had lost my home, and Marleen was blinded and had her back broken. He took me home to his mother's house in King's Cross.'

  'So what went wrong?'

  She let out a big sigh. 'I wanted fame and fortune, he wanted marriage and children. Maybe I was too young, too selfish and headstrong, I don't know exactly now. But I do know that if I could start all over again, I'd marry him, have half a dozen kids and settle for sweet ordinariness.'

  'What happened to him?'

  'He went to Australia. I kept in touch with his mother for some time, but not after she joined him and his wife and family out there. I often wonder if he's seen my films, and whether he ever forgave me. I hope he's happy, he deserved to be.'

  The way she said that took Magnus right back to 1947 when he so often took both Bonny and Helena out to supper after their show. In those days she was just Ellie, the quieter one of the double act. He had been impressed then by her compassionate nature, and it pleased him to think she hadn't lost that quality on the road to becoming famous. But she had been such a joyous young girl, full of fun and laughter. She so richly deserved her success, but it saddened him to see that she hadn't been happier.

  'What went wrong in your life?' Magnus asked. 'Can't you tell an old friend about it?'

  She hesitated for a moment and he half expected her to clam up as she had the previous night. 'I should never have allowed myself to be talked into going to Hollywood,' she blurted out. 'I should have stayed in England and made more films like Soho. But I let myself be manipulated because I'd lost sight of my real goals. By the time I woke up to what was happening, it was too late. I let them trap me into a contract I couldn't get out of and I made one after another of those banal musicals.' She paused and he saw her eyes were full of bitterness.

  'Go on,' he prompted.

  'The moguls over there don't care about talent or art,' she spat out. 'When they find a formula that brings in money, they squeeze it to the last drop. They wouldn't let me grow as an actress, they stunted me. When the last film was a flop they blamed me, not themselves, and I was forced into retirement because they said I was too temperamental.'

  'When you've finished this film will you stay in England or go back?'

  'I thought I had no choice in the matter until this morning,' she said thoughtfully, her smooth brow crinkled by a frown. 'I thought I was too deeply rooted in America to transplant myself back here.'

  'But now?'

  'What I thought were roots look more like mere possessions today,' she grimaced. 'And I have no real friends – only a psychiatrist who I have to pay to talk to.'

  'You have a psychiatrist? What on earth for?'

  She looke
d at Magnus, with a trace of suspicion.

  'You're in England now,' he reminded her. "There's no journalist hiding behind the trees with microphones, and I don't pass on privileged information.'

  'As the Yanks like to say, "I'm pretty screwed up", Magnus. I've been hiding behind costumes and pills for years. When you said I was an alcoholic you were wrong, drink hasn't been my problem. I was put off that by my Aunt Marleen. But I have suffered from chronic depression. When I was offered this part, I was feeling very low. I'd lost my confidence, even the sense of who I was. But I managed to recognise it as a possible life raft. When your letter came, that, my old friend, was like finding a dry blanket in the raft and a gallon of fresh water.'

  'And I almost overturned the raft?'

  She tucked her arm through his and smiled. 'My psychiatrist said I would be tested when I came back here. Maybe if you hadn't come in last night when you did, I might have slipped back. It's rather ironic isn't it? I've paid fortunes to doctors and shrinks over the years, dredged through old painful memories with strangers, all to no avail. But a few probing questions from an old pal, followed by a hug, achieved a great deal more than all that expensive therapy.'

  'Are you serious that you have no one back in America?' It seemed incredible that a woman as lovely as Helena should be so alone. 'Not even a man friend.'

  'Well, there's Edward,' she said. 'I don't know if you remember but he was a friend right back from

  1945.'

  Magnus nodded.

  'He's coming over soon to join me.'

  Magnus felt himself stiffen, to his surprise he realised he was a little jealous. 'He's in the film too?' he asked.

  Perhaps Helena heard the starch in his voice. She smiled. 'No, he isn't, and we aren't lovers, Magnus.'

  'It's none of my business if you are,' he retorted quickly. 'I just hope you'll have room for me as a friend too.'

  Julie came back at that point loaded down with a large wicker basket and a folded picnic table and their conversation was halted temporarily.

  'That, as Edward would say, was "topping",' Helena said half an hour later as she slumped back in the swing seat holding her stomach and grinning broadly. 'I've never had a picnic like that one before.'