She was pleased to discover that Maurice was quick and intelligent with various interests that included archaeology. The previous year he had been to the tombs in Egypt with a small party from school, led by the headmaster, and on another occasion he had worked at a dig on the site of a Roman villa. Tennis was his sport and he hoped to go mountaineering during his next vacation.
‘I’m keen on photography as well,’ he said confidentially, ‘and my stepfather gave me a very good camera on my birthday last year, but motion pictures interest me most of all. We’re not supposed to go to movies during term time, but I have managed it sometimes.’ He grinned broadly. ‘I skipped lessons once to see you as Joan of Arc.’
‘Did you get into trouble over it?’
‘Yes, but it was worth it. You are a splendid actress.’
‘Thank you, but remember that I have an exceptional director in my husband, Daniel. It was also his idea to release “Jeanne d’Arc” with French subtitles for France.’
‘I should like to hear how he decides to direct various scenes. Where does he start?’
She answered his questions as fully as she could and there was always another query to follow about the movie world. So many of his facial expressions, his way of raising an eyebrow, reminded her so much of their father that she suddenly broke off what she was saying. ‘Oh, Maurice! You are so like our father!’
He looked surprised. ‘Am I? What sort of man was he? Mother has never talked to me about him. She just fusses over my stepfather and I have to call him Papa. But then she has never spoken about you either.’
It saddened Lisette that Maurice had grown up knowing almost nothing about the man who had been so proud of him. So she did all she could to fill in some of the very wide gaps, telling how their father had introduced her to Paris and all its arts and treasures out of his own enjoyment of everything beautiful and of historical interest.
‘He read a great deal, which is why there’s such a fine library at the château, some of the books he collected being very rare. I know from what my grandmother told me,’ she continued, ‘that he was also a keen sportsman in his youth, although by the time I went to live at the château he had put on weight and his favourite sport was betting on the races at Longchamps.’
‘I’ve never seen a photograph of him, although there is a painting of him when he was young that hangs in one of the corridors near the servants’ quarters. I don’t think my mother wants to remind my stepfather too often of her previous marriage. Unfortunately for her I’m sometimes around.’ He made a cheerful grimace and shrugged his shoulders, causing Lisette to guess that he had become used to it over the years.
‘I should like so much to keep in touch with you, Maurice,’ she said. ‘Do you think we could correspond with each other sometimes?’
‘Yes, I would like that, Lisette. Please let me know all that is new in the movie world and be sure to tell me when you are coming back to France again.’
‘I will do that,’ she promised.
The luncheon came to an end. When the two boys had been delivered back to school Lisette expressed her thanks to Philippe. ‘I appreciate so much what you did for me today,’ she said warmly.
‘Does this mean that all in the past is forgiven?’ he asked quietly.
‘That happened a long time ago,’ she answered.
‘I needed reassurance.’ He took up her hand and kissed it. ‘Let me take you to the opera this evening. I have two tickets for the best box in the house. It’s “The Marriage of Figaro”. Remember that we went to a performance together with friends when all was well between us? It could bridge those unfortunate times in between and banish them for ever.’ Before she could reply, he added. ‘Surely this is not too much to ask?’
She knew it to be emotional blackmail, but she was in a happy mood and the theme of the opera would match it very well. She agreed to go.
They sat in the best box and she enjoyed every moment of the performance. Afterwards they had supper together in the gilt and sparkle of Maxim’s. Back at her hotel he saw her to the door of her room as he had done the night before.
‘No, I can’t lunch with you tomorrow or see you at any other time,’ she said, refusing his invitation. ‘I have some motion picture business that will keep me busy all day.’
It did take the whole day, for she was taking note of an important historic location for Daniel’s film about Marie Antoinette. She started early in the morning by taking a cab out to Versailles. Only a very few of the palace’s great rooms were open to the public, for much of it was used as offices, but she was able to go into the Hall of Mirrors. Reflected by its many mirrors, she gazed up at the murals on the ceiling that had been darkened by time and neglect. This once magnificent hall, as with everywhere else on view, was devoid of its glorious chandeliers, its draperies and all the fine furniture that had once made the great palace the jewel of France. She hoped that one day her countrymen would be enlightened enough to restore it to its full beauty.
Afterwards she went down to the lake and into the park’s secluded glades where in the heyday of royalty before the Revolution open-air balls, banquets, masquerades and theatrical productions had been held. Coming upon Marie Antoinette’s charming little summerhouse she looked through its windows. She remembered her father bringing her here and then showing her the nearby leafy grove where the tragic Queen had been given the warning that the mob was marching on Versailles. How terrified the poor woman must have been as she fled back to the palace.
When Lisette arrived back at the hotel she was quite tired after a full day’s sightseeing at the palace and throughout its vast park, but as she kicked off her shoes and lay down on the suite’s chaise longue she was well satisfied with her day. She felt that having reabsorbed Marie Antoinette’s surroundings she would be able to play far better the role of the tragic Queen.
It was just as she was about to order a light supper to be brought to her suite that the telephone rang. It was Philippe issuing an invitation that took her by surprise.
‘A magic lantern show?’ she exclaimed with amusement. ‘I thought the movies had put an end to them long ago.’
‘This lanternist is said to be the best ever, which is why his shows can still attract audiences. Surely you’d like to see the performance and judge for yourself whether he comes up to the standard that you remember?’
She was tempted. It would be interesting to compare this lanternist’s technique with Daniel’s and see what new ideas were being presented. ‘I think I would,’ she replied.
The venue was a large private mansion with marble pillars, floors and statuary, A party of about a hundred well-dressed guests was in full swing with an orchestra playing for dancing. In a side room a long buffet table was heaped with various delicacies. The hostess, her face highly painted, her diamonds sparkling and her cleavage well revealed, welcomed Lisette as effusively as if they had known each other for years.
‘I expect she has seen you on the movie screen and thinks she knows you,’ Philippe said by way of explanation, taking a glass of champagne from the tray of a waiter and handing it to Lisette before taking one for himself. She thought he was probably right.
They went to join other guests helping themselves at the buffet, for Philippe was hungry and so was she, having had nothing since breakfast, except for an apple that she had taken with her to Versailles. Already she had felt some effect from the champagne, but not as much as Philippe, who had most certainly been drinking heavily in the hotel bar before meeting her after she had descended in the hotel lift. As they ate he also constantly emptied his glass for a refill and wanted hers topped up too. She thought he was feeling some regret that she would be leaving in the morning, for they had had a pleasant time together.
‘Let’s dance,’ he said, taking her hand as they left the buffet, and he twirled her on to the floor. They had always danced well together and even though he was quite drunk he did not miss a step.
‘What time is the magic lantern s
how?’ she asked, noticing that an ormolu clock showed it was almost midnight, She was regretting that she had come, for he was holding her far too tightly and watching her with drunken amorousness through his lashes.
‘It’s on now,’ he answered. ‘It’s a continuous performance.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she said in exasperation. ‘We’ll take a quick look and then go.’
‘What’s the rush?’
‘You seem to have forgotten I’m leaving for home early tomorrow morning. My train to Calais goes at nine o’clock.’
He put an arm about her waist. ‘We’ll fill up our glasses once more and then we’ll go and watch the pretty pictures.’
He did not see that she left her refilled glass on a side table as a door was opened for them into a darkened salon. Black velvet curtains were keeping out the light and these were parted for them to enter by a footman and then closed again. The air was heavy with the perfume of the women and the smoke of cigars as well as a certain exotic aroma from Egyptian cigarettes.
She did not glance at the screen until they were seated, but immediately she realized the type of show that it was. A young woman with large and very beautiful breasts was being undressed by her lover through a series of deftly changed colour slides. He was wearing a costume such as Romeo might have worn and was kissing every part of her that became blatantly exposed. This was being accompanied by the music of a violin being played somewhere behind the screen, although it could hardly be heard above the giggles, little shrieks and guffaws from the audience with the occasional burst of applause.
Lisette sighed in exasperation at her own foolishness in having been trapped into viewing this lascivious rubbish. She should have known that nothing as straightforward as an ordinary slide-show would interest Philippe who – judging by the salacious pleasure on his face in the light reflected from the screen – had clearly known what to expect from this performance. Romeo had now thrown off his clothes to reveal his own masculine magnificence and copulation began to take place in what was obviously going to be a variety of gymnastic and very exposed ways.
She had seen such slides before when Daniel had gone through other lanternists’ collections that he had bought at auction, for he hated to see antique slides broken up or thrown away and watched out for any coming on to the market. He saw them as the true forerunners of all animated pictures, and felt they should be preserved as part of motion picture history, whatever the content.
She had to admit to herself that this lanternist was skilled and she watched with professional interest for another five minutes before putting aside Philippe’s arm, which he had draped about her caressingly, his fingers stroking her. As she rose from her chair. the velvet curtains were again pulled aside for her while the footman’s gaze remained glued to the screen. She went swiftly out of the room.
Philippe came hurrying after her and caught her arm, swinging her round to face him. ‘I thought marriage would have driven prudishness from you!’ he exclaimed bitterly.
She gave him a tired look, not bothering to answer. ‘I’m going back to the hotel. There is no need for you to leave.’
‘I’m coming with you.’
They rode back in silence, but she sensed the rage building up in him. He had thought that with enough champagne she would soften towards him, perhaps even be stirred to amorousness by the slides as had been happening with some of the couples revealed by the glow from the screen.
They collected their keys at the reception desk and went up in the lift without speaking. Yet he saw her to her door as he had done previously and unlocked it for her.
‘Goodnight, Philippe,’ she said, drawing back over the threshold, disturbed by his mulish expression. ‘I shall not be seeing you in the morning, because I’ll be having an early breakfast in my suite. Thank you again for arranging the meeting with Maurice.’
He did not appear to have heard what she had said. ‘I loved you, Lisette!’ he burst out furiously. ‘You should never have run away from me all those years ago! And I’m damned if I’ll let you leave me now!’
He threw himself forward, bearing her with him, and slamming the door behind them. She cried out as she fought him, kicking and hitting out, but she was no match for his fired up strength. He was trying to get her through to the bedroom, determined to have her at last, but the chaise longue was nearest and he threw her down on it, crushing her with his weight. The struggle continued as he clawed at her skirts, but his hand fell away from her thigh in the sudden exploding brilliance of a photographer’s flash powder coming like a bolt of lightning from the re-opened door.
‘What the hell—?’ Philippe roared, falling back awkwardly, and she sat up, both of them staring in horror at the intruder, who stood poised to take a second photograph. With him was a little man whom Lisette recognized instantly. It was he who had stared so penetratingly at her from the station platform when she was leaving for Paris!
‘Get out!’ Philippe staggered forward, but threw his arm up across his face, momentarily half blinded by the second flash before he charged forward to throw both men back into the corridor. But the little man was quick moving and with a powerful thrust adroitly sent him staggering back while speaking politely in surprisingly cultured tones.
‘Pray forgive the intrusion, Monsieur Bonnard, and my apologies to you, Madame Shaw, but Madame Bonnard needed evidence for a divorce and now she will have it.’
Both men departed swiftly, closing the door after them. Philippe sank down on to a chair and dropped his head into his hands. ‘Oh, my God,’ he repeated over and over again.
Lisette, feeling as though all her strength had ebbed from her, managed to get up from the chaise lonque, aware of shaking uncontrollably from the shock of Philippe’s attempted rape and the aftermath.
‘Go now, Philippe,’ she said through clenched teeth, clutching the back of a chair for support.
He nodded in a drunken daze, but did not move. ‘I never thought she would set a private detective on me.’
‘On us,’ she corrected flatly. ‘That little man was in Monte Carlo and no doubt he has recorded all the other times we have met.’
Yet Philippe’s thoughts were only for himself and the bleak future ahead of him if the divorce went through. ‘Oh, my God,’ he began again. ‘She’s rich as Croesus. I can’t let her chuck me out!’
‘Then use your charm on her,’ Lisette said sharply, ice in her voice. ‘You have found it useful enough in the past. Go!’
He nodded. This time he rose to his feet and reeled towards the door. He left without a backward glance in her direction.
She rushed to close and lock the door after him before leaning back against it in overwhelming wave of despair. How would she explain everything to Daniel? She was terribly afraid that it would open a gulf between them.
Twenty-One
Lisette delayed her journey home by twenty-four hours in order to consult her lawyers. She guessed that Philippe had checked out of the hotel as she did not see him again.
When she arrived home she telephoned Daniel at the studios. He was glad to hear her voice, although he thought she sounded very tired, and he promised to get home as soon as it was possible to have an early dinner with her. Yet two hours went by and Maisie was keeping the food hot as she had so often before, wondering why she still believed that he would be on time Eventually he threw open the front door and called out happily, ‘I’m home, Lisette!’
It surprised him that she did not come to meet him after her lengthy absence. Daisy, taking his hat and coat, told him she was in the drawing room.
He found her standing by the fireplace and she turned to face him as he entered. His immediate thought was that she was not looking radiant as he had expected, but was pale and heavy eyed. Her smile trembled as did her clasped hands that she was holding in front of her at waist level.
‘My darling! What has happened to you?’ he asked in concern, coming across to take her in his arms and kiss her.
; ‘Something quite dreadful has taken place.’
His immediate thought was that some serious calamity must have overtaken her friend. ‘Is it Joanna?’ he asked with concern. ‘Has something happened to her or anybody else? An accident, perhaps?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing like that.’ She hesitated in her misery of what she had to tell him, not knowing how to start, although she had gone over it all so many times in her own mind. ‘It’s something entirely different.’
He was relieved. Since nothing fatal had occurred he took a guess at the cause of her distress. She had mentioned going to the Monte Carlo casino several times in her letters and he believed now that she had lost a great deal of money at the tables and was worried about how to tell him.
‘Come and sit down.’ Taking her by the shoulders, he guided her to a brocade-upholstered sofa in the bright flicker of flames in the fireplace. ‘I can see that you’re tired from the journey. Was it a rough crossing? I’ll get you a cognac.’
‘I’ve brought you a bottle from France.’ She indicated where it stood on a side table.
He was a cognac connoisseur and when he picked up the bottle he whistled appreciatively as he studied the label. ‘What a splendid gift! Thank you, darling!’
She watched him open a rosewood cupboard where he took out two tulip-shaped glasses. When he had poured the cognac he handed one glass to her and then sat down in the opposite chair, holding up his glass to examine the cognac’s superb colour. Then he inhaled its aroma, assessing its force and elegance. Yet all the time he was watching her out of the corner of his eye, able to see she was in a high state of tension, and he cupped his glass in his hand to warm it while giving the golden liquid a little swirl.
‘Take your time and do this nectar justice,’ he advised, wanting to calm her. ‘It will do you good. Shall I tell you what has been happening at the studios since my last letter?’
She nodded, thankful for a reprieve to gather her thoughts together. While she sipped the cognac he chatted, elaborating on what he had told her in his hastily scrawled letters. He was enthusiastic about his investment in a small London music hall, which had been closed for a number of years and was almost derelict, enabling him to purchase it at a bargain price.
Brilliance Page 28