The Cinema at Starlight Creek

by Alli Sinclair

  ‘This is your third movie with Henry, is that right?’ asked social pages writer Gertrude Ackerman.

  ‘Yes. We have two more planned over the next year,’ said Lena, her eyes searching the room. For whom, she had no idea. Dotty would be caught in the throng outside. Hopefully she’d give up and go home, but Lena suspected that may not be the case.

  ‘I absolutely loved you in These City Walls,’ continued Gertrude, who grasped Lena’s arm. ‘Oh! You are even more beautiful in person! And you’re just as sweet as the roles you play.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Lena said, wondering when the bell would ring to signal the movie was about to start. The opportunity to enjoy this evening had evaporated the moment she saw Dotty.

  ‘Well, well, the star of the evening.’ Lawrence Doherty strode up and took her hand in his. ‘Look at you.’

  ‘And look at you,’ Lena said. ‘You scrub up all right.’

  ‘We both do.’ Lawrence laughed.

  Ever since Lawrence had delivered the news of her role being cut which led to Lena getting snapped up by Henry Newman, the balance between Lawrence and Lena had changed dramatically. She was no longer at his mercy, having to take any role flung at her, since Henry had made it abundantly clear—and legal on her contract—that Lena would act solely for him. And she didn’t mind at all.

  ‘When’s your contract up?’ asked Lawrence, a sly smile gracing his moustached lips.

  ‘Henry will punch you in the nose if he hears you.’

  ‘I’m serious, though, if you ever want to do a movie with me …’ His awkward smile reminded her of a nervous schoolboy.

  ‘Thank you, Lawrence, but I think you have your hands busy with Jeanne and Reeves. They seem to be the magic pair for you these days.’

  Lawrence averted his gaze and took a long swig of whiskey.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

  Lawrence finished his drink, put the glass on the tray of the waiter passing by, and grabbed another. He sculled that in seconds.

  ‘Lawrence?’

  ‘You haven’t heard, have you?’

  ‘Haven’t heard what?’

  The laugh that fell from Lawrence’s lips sounded hollow. ‘Jeanne tore up the set this morning.’

  ‘What?’ Lena had hoped things had calmed down as she hadn’t heard much about Jeanne’s behaviour lately.

  ‘She’s out of control.’

  ‘I thought she’d been seeing someone to help with her little … problem.’

  ‘She was, then she thought she was above seeing a doctor.’ Lawrence’s sigh sounded despondent. ‘I just don’t know what to do. We’re already behind on production.’

  ‘Oh, Lawrence, I’m so sorry.’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s not your fault.’

  ‘But Jeanne and I were friends once. Maybe if I talked to her …’

  ‘Good luck with that. Reeves has tried his darndest but to no avail. It’s a sad state of affairs, Lena. The movie’s in jeopardy at best, and at worst, our careers are on a knife edge—mine, Jeanne’s, and Reeves’s.’

  ‘But her behaviour isn’t yours or Reeves’s fault.’ Reeves. Wow. It had been such a long time since they’d seen each other. Even though they worked for the same studio, they rarely crossed paths. It would be so nice to see him again.

  ‘Look,’ continued Lawrence, ‘I was an idiot for not seeing who you were. Who you could become. I know what happened was at the hands of the Hays Code but I should have fought harder.’

  ‘It wouldn’t have made a difference. They are a force to be reckoned with. I don’t know how many times Henry has gone into bat about a trivial matter Breen and his men have taken offence to. Oh, look,’ she said, ‘here comes Henry. Well hello!’

  Henry couldn’t get across the room fast enough and Lawrence gave her a grateful smile for the warning. Although she had left Lawrence’s movie under less-than-favourable circumstances, it had opened up an opportunity she wouldn’t have had otherwise. No way could she ever harbour bitter feelings towards the man who had inadvertently opened a door for her.

  ‘Lovely to see you, Lena.’ Henry kissed her on the cheek then turned his attention to Lawrence. ‘How are you, old man?’

  ‘I’m good, good.’ Lawrence scanned the room. ‘Please excuse me, I’ve just seen someone I need to catch up with.’

  Henry’s gaze didn’t leave Lawrence as he disappeared into the crowd. Henry turned his attention to Lena.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘You know the deal.’

  ‘Of course I do, Henry. And you should know me well enough to realise that my word is my word.’

  ‘And we have a contract.’ He laughed then studied the drink in his hand. ‘I’m aware I get possessive and it’s not right—you are a person, not a commodity.’ He looked up and grinned. ‘Ready for the great unveiling? It’s our best work to date.’

  Lena spotted the film critic Frederick Schulz on the opposite side of the room talking to colleagues.

  Henry squeezed her shoulder. ‘Don’t be nervous. They’ll love you.’

  The bell chimed steadily and the lights dimmed, just like in the theatres of live performances—one of Stuart Cooper’s touches. Pierre arrived by her side, offered his arm, and they walked up to the front of the movie theatre. Stuart Cooper stood on the stage, watching everyone filter in and take their seats on the plumcoloured velvet. Henry climbed the stage too, and Lena and Pierre took their place in the front row.

  For the next ten minutes Stuart and Henry spoke about the movie, Hidden Motives, Pierre and Lena and the supporting cast. The audience grew restless, and what was once a silent room, bar the talking of Stuart and Henry, had now become filled with coughs and quiet murmuring.

  ‘Come on! Show us the movie!’ a voice yelled from the back row and everyone laughed, including Stuart.

  ‘I’m glad to see we have some eager beavers. So, without further ado …’ He saluted the projectionist hidden in the box at the back of the theatre. The movie sputtered into action and Lena squeezed her eyes shut.

  ‘It will be over soon,’ whispered Pierre. She appreciated his understanding, though it was only a short matter of time before he said something to offend or annoy her again. What a shame she wasn’t paired up with Reeves Garrity but Jeanne had hand-picked him from the start. Although if the rumours were true …

  Lena concentrated on the movie, cringing every time she saw her face on the screen. Although she was more than happy to act in front of the camera and have her photo taken for magazines, Lena didn’t enjoy hearing her voice or seeing her face on a sixty-foot screen. It was all so … strange.

  When World War II had broken out, all she’d ever heard were stories of men dying, women and children being bombed, countries torn apart. She’d watched families in her hometown lose their sons, and women had undertaken non-traditional jobs to help the war effort while they balanced being mother and wife to an absent husband. War had clawed its way into everyone’s lives—no one was safe from its clutches. The only escape, for a few precious hours a week, was the movie theatre. There, Lena would lose herself in another world, imagining what it would be like to be held in Cary Grant’s arms, to dance with Fred Astaire, to sing with Gene Kelly … Never in a million years could she have imagined that she would one day be staring at her face on a silver screen.

  The audience around her laughed when they should have, sighed and cried at the right moments, and seemed entranced by the romantic scenes, which strictly adhered to the rules Breen and his men monitored. Romantic movies always ran the risk of breaking the Hays Code, which slithered its tentacles into every movie produced in the USA, but Harry had found a way to tell the stories and take scenes right to the edge before the censorship board wielded its shiny scissors. Sometimes Henry pushed too far, and entire scenes were cut, but most of the time he managed to keep enough so the movie wouldn’t be banned.

  On screen, Lena and Pierre were in each other’s arms, cheek to cheek. When they kissed, it was brief, ri
ght on the maximum time of three seconds allowed by the Hays Code. Henry, being Henry, dangled his toes over the line by having Lena and Pierre kiss for two and a half seconds, briefly talk, then kiss for two more. The result was sexual tension the audience lapped up. Although the scene looked romantic, Lena’s neck had developed a crick that had plagued her for days afterwards. Still, the final shot was perfection and she admired Henry’s vision. As the image faded, the room filled with applause and a few whistles.

  Stuart walked onto the stage and motioned for the audience to quiet. ‘I am sure you will agree with me that this film is magnificent. Now, it’s up to you to spread the word so I can afford to go to the Bahamas for my vacation this year.’

  Everyone laughed, and Lena shook her head.

  ‘Come on, time to schmooze again.’ Pierre offered his hand and she stood, smiling her thanks.

  ‘Remind me why we do this?’ she asked.

  ‘Because if you failed at this gig, what would you be doing?’

  Dotty Peters’s face flashed before her and a hollowness grew in Lena’s chest. No way could Lena return to that old life of working in a bar between modelling and acting jobs. She plastered on her best smile and looked around the room. ‘Let’s do it.’

  CHAPTER 16

  1952 – Hollywood

  The flashing lights, sparkling diamonds and silk dresses of the night before had faded into a distant dream. Lena sat in the make-up chair in her dressing room, waiting for Vanessa and Yvonne to arrive and work their magic, just like they’d done every day since she’d first set foot in Fortitude Studios three years ago.

  Lena let out a sigh.

  ‘What’s that about?’ asked Yvonne as she flounced through the dressing room door as fresh as a cool sea breeze. Vanessa followed behind.

  ‘See these?’ Lena pointed to the bags under her eyes. ‘They will be your greatest challenge yet.’

  ‘Ha!’ Vanessa unpacked her box of tricks on the table. ‘You know me, I always rise to a challenge.’

  ‘You seriously have your work cut out for you.’ Lena stifled a yawn.

  ‘Did you get any sleep last night? Or did you party until the wee hours?’

  ‘I got home from schmoozing at three o’clock.’

  ‘They really do work you like a Trojan. No resting on the laurels of your last film, huh?’

  ‘Nope,’ said Lena.

  Yvonne sorted through the clothes rack nearby while Vanessa scooped out some goop and started applying it to Lena’s face. Lena’s skin instantly felt like it was suffocating, but in the mirror she could already see the red blotches disappearing.

  ‘You looked amazing last night,’ said Yvonne.

  ‘With a lot of thanks to you and Vanessa.’ Lena reached for Yvonne’s hand then Vanessa’s. ‘I really mean it. Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’ asked Yvonne.

  ‘For everything,’ Lena said. ‘You two are my dearest friends and you’ve always been there for me.’

  Vanessa gave an uneasy laugh. ‘What’s got into you?’

  Lena’s eyes stung with hot tears. ‘Lack of sleep, I guess.’

  Vanessa waved her hand, the signal for Lena to close her eyes while eyeshadow, mascara and eyeliner were applied. When Vanessa was done, Lena opened her eyes.

  Vanessa concentrated on choosing the right colour lipstick while Yvonne took out the turquoise dress with tiny yellow and white flowers. She hung it on the hook next to the dressing table and rested her gaze on Lena. ‘What’s with that look?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Lena wished she could hide her true feelings better.

  ‘You said nothing too quick.’ Yvonne pulled out a pair of yellow heels.

  Lena coughed. ‘We don’t have much time before I’m due on set.’

  ‘That’s an excuse.’ Vanessa dusted Lena’s face with powder. ‘Close your eyes again and we’ll do your fakeys.’ Vanessa picked up eyelashes and started applying the glue.

  ‘Come on, Lena, what’s going on?’ asked Yvonne.

  ‘Noth—’

  ‘Lena.’ Vanessa’s deep tone told Lena she wasn’t getting out of it this easy.

  ‘I don’t know, I’ve just … I don’t know how to explain.’

  ‘Well, you have at least fifteen minutes before we’re done here so get that brain working with your mouth. But not when I’m doing your lips, okay?’

  Lena laughed despite feeling so maudlin. Up until now she’d been trying to ignore the unease, but it had been tugging at her skirt like a persistent three-year-old. She had to give her friends something. ‘I think it’s because so much has happened in a short time. I signed on as a chorus and bit-part girl with huge dreams of becoming a starlet, though in the back of my mind I always told myself the chances of hitting the big time were extremely remote. Especially as I started in this game much later than others.’

  ‘Yet here you are,’ said Vanessa.

  ‘Yet here I am. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do and I’m so very grateful but there’s something missing. Something feels off.’

  ‘A decent man?’ asked Yvonne, who motioned for her to get off the chair now Vanessa had finished. She placed a scarf over Lena’s head and slid the dress on, then took off the scarf and adjusted the costume, pulling it here, tugging it there then cinching it all up with the zip and buttons at the back.

  ‘Pierre Montreaux is a very decent man, thank you very much,’ said Lena.

  Vanessa and Yvonne exchanged a look.

  ‘What?’ Lena threw her arms wide.

  ‘You can say what you like, but we don’t think so,’ Vanessa said.

  ‘Pierre is a very fine man.’ Lena let indignation ride on her words.

  ‘You protest too much,’ said Yvonne. ‘Besides, I’ve never heard you say you’re in love with him.’

  ‘Why would I? That’s my business.’

  ‘Your business became everyone’s business the day you signed on.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So?’ asked Yvonne.

  ‘So, what?’

  ‘So, tell us you love Pierre. That he’s the man you’ve dreamed about your entire life. That you don’t mind that his ego is bigger than the state of Texas and that you don’t have a problem with the way he flirts with every single female on the planet.’ Yvonne put her hands on her hips. ‘Tell us we’re wrong.’

  Lena pursed her lips. ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘I don’t see what’s so complicated about it. You either love him or you don’t.’

  ‘Yvonne …’

  ‘Look, I may seem harsh to you, but I don’t like standing by and watching one of my dearest friends get sucked further into this crazy ruse. I’ve seen it before. You can’t tell me that Stuart Cooper hasn’t coerced you and Pierre into being the perfect couple on- and off-screen. The general public may buy it, but I don’t.’

  ‘I’m sorry you feel that way,’ said Lena. ‘Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall managed an on- and off-screen love affair. And what about Laurence Olivier and Vivien Leigh?’

  ‘Olivier and Leigh were married to other people when they fell for each other,’ Yvonne said.

  She did have a point, unfortunately. Lena straightened her spine. ‘They fell in love on-screen and that flowed into real life. They were a powerful couple on film and off. Audiences loved that. True love is true love.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Vanessa got out the comb and tucked a few stray hairs into Lena’s up-do. As each minute ticked by, Lena’s mood dove further. It was hard enough being expected to look glamorous and act and sing her best on three hours’ sleep, so a lecture from two friends she valued made everything feel worse. She despised keeping the truth from them but Stuart had put it in her contract that she could not breathe a word.

  ‘There,’ said Vanessa. ‘More beautiful than Betty Grable.’

  ‘What about Jeanne Harris?’ Lena let out a laugh, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

  ‘Goes without saying. Come on.’ Yvonne straightened the seams on Lena’s stockings. ‘W
e may have dropped the topic—for now—but we’re not letting you off the hook and we will get to the bottom of it.’

  ‘There’s nothing to get to the bottom of.’

  Yvonne walked her towards the door. ‘We’ll see.’

  * * *

  After warming up her vocal chords in the privacy of her dressing room, Lena walked onto the set to a round of applause. She stood under the gigantic maple in the hanging garden and smiled awkwardly as actors and crew surrounded and congratulated her.

  ‘Look at this!’ Anna May Clifford, one of the chorus girls, shoved a newspaper in front of Lena’s face. ‘They loved your new movie! Here,’ her finger ran across the print, ‘it says “Once again Pierre Montreaux and Lena Lee have delivered Oscar-worthy performances that will entrance and delight audiences across America. Mr Montreaux’s near-perfect performance will have female movie-goers’ hearts all a-flutter, while Miss Lee’s magnificent depiction of a woman who finally gets her man is enchanting and heartwarming. Her angelic voice soothes the ears and her beauty is a delight for the eyes.” Isn’t that wonderful?’

  ‘Yes.’ Lena forced a smile. Every movie was the same—Pierre the cad and Lena falling for him to make her life ‘complete’. No one would listen to her pleas to tackle something with more substance. She said to Anna May, ‘Thank you for sharing the article with me.’

  ‘Enough chatting. Time for work! Places!’ yelled Henry. He walked towards Lena and winked. ‘Not a bad review to start the day.’

  ‘Not bad at all,’ she said, a lump in her throat. Shouldn’t she be ecstatic?

  ‘Where did you go last night?’ Pierre’s breath on the back of her neck made her shudder. She spun around to find him towering over her, his eyes steely.

  ‘Where do you think?’ She really should keep the sarcasm at bay.

  ‘You left without saying goodbye. How did you get home?’

  ‘If you’re asking why I didn’t leave in the limousine with you, it’s because I was tired of seeing you openly make eyes at Sally Enfield. Really, Pierre, you need to watch yourself.’

  ‘Jealous, are we?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she spat out. ‘I’m just saying that you need to watch what you do in public. It hurts us.’