The Cinema at Starlight Creek

by Alli Sinclair

  ‘She’s beautiful.’ Claire stopped and stared at the photo.

  ‘Yes, she is,’ Hattie said.

  There was something quite mesmerising about this woman and Claire wanted to know more. But Hattie’s wistful tone and the way she gently urged Claire forward told her asking questions would be a mistake.

  They reached the kitchen where Don was already at the table, newspaper on his lap.

  ‘Mmm, it smells amazing,’ said Claire. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘No, no, it’s all under control. Besides, I already have a helper.’ She nodded towards Luke who was setting an extra place at the table.

  ‘I really hope I’m not imposing.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Hattie, motioning for Claire to sit.

  On a large serving plate, Hattie piled peas, carrots, roast potatoes, pumpkin and a delicious-looking chicken. She poured gravy into a delicate bone china boat and Luke carried the plate over to the table then sat opposite Claire. She averted her eyes, her heart still pounding from their near-kiss earlier.

  ‘Please, help yourself,’ said Hattie.

  Claire dished small servings of everything on her plate and Luke, Hattie and Don went with generous sizes. She liked that the atmosphere wasn’t formal but she couldn’t quite relax. It had been so long since she’d sat down for a family dinner. With her brothers working long hours and her semi-retired parents travelling so often they were barely in the country, months would go by before any of them would get together for a family meal. Now, sitting with Luke and his dad and great-aunt, Claire realised how much she missed gatherings like this.

  ‘Wine?’ Don opened a bottle and filled Claire’s glass.

  She took a sip, enjoying the crispy and fruity flavours. ‘This is lovely.’

  ‘Great year,’ said Don, tucking into his meal. ‘Thanks for the dinner, Aunt Hattie.’

  ‘It’s the least I can do for having me here. Now, Claire dear, how is it all going?’

  ‘It’s going wonderfully.’ She wasn’t sure if Hattie meant the movie or whether her cinema was being looked after. ‘You should come down and have a look sometime. I’m sure they’d love to meet you and I can show you what it’s like on set.’

  ‘Thank you, but I don’t want to get in the way. It’s better they get everything filmed then I can move back. I do miss the place.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ said Claire. ‘Although it’s rather gorgeous here. How long have you lived on the farm, Don?’

  ‘This farm’s been in the family for four generations, five once Luke takes over.’

  She didn’t dare look at Luke.

  Don continued. ‘Farming is in the Jackson blood. It’s not easy, but it’s what us Jackson men do. We’ve weathered some tough times but that’s the way it is.’ He slapped Luke on the back. ‘And with my offsider here, we can get through anything.’

  Luke’s smile was almost a grimace. Don seemed oblivious.

  ‘So, Claire,’ Don cut a roast potato, ‘how long are you in town for?’

  ‘Until the end of filming, which is fairly soon.’

  ‘What next?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m not entirely sure but something will pop up.’

  ‘This isn’t a permanent job?’ asked Don.

  ‘Dad, she doesn’t need to be interrogated,’ said Luke.

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘It’s permanent in that I usually have back-to-back work. Each project is different and I get used to moving around to where the jobs are.’

  ‘You don’t have a home?’

  ‘I do, in Melbourne, but I’m rarely there. My friend rents from me and when I’m in town I sleep in the spare bedroom.’ Luke was right, it did feel a little like an interrogation. Then again, she liked that Don was interested enough to ask questions.

  ‘I couldn’t imagine a transient life like that,’ said Don. ‘How do you expect to hold down a relationship? Have a family?’

  ‘Donald!’ said Hattie. ‘Leave the poor girl alone.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Don hung his head like he was in the principal’s office. ‘I’m a bit of a traditionalist.’

  ‘A bit?’ laughed Luke. ‘You would have been at home in the fifties with women tied to the kitchen sink.’

  ‘Now that’s enough!’ Hattie angled a finger at both men. ‘Claire did not come here to listen to you two carry on. Let’s just finish dinner in peace and if you boys behave there might be dessert.’ She winked at Claire. ‘I may not have been a mother but I know how to keep these two ratbags in line.’

  ‘It’s a next-to-impossible task, I’m figuring,’ said Claire.

  Luke and Don sniggered like naughty schoolboys and Hattie gave a dramatic sigh.

  The rest of the meal was uneventful and when everyone was done Claire offered to clear the plates.

  ‘No, no,’ said Hattie. ‘The boys can do it. You and I can go outside and enjoy the fresh air.’

  Claire followed Hattie onto the verandah and sat next to her on the swing seat. The moon was high in the inky sky and the frogs sounded like they were right under the verandah.

  ‘I’m so glad you came by,’ said Hattie.

  ‘So am I.’

  ‘That woman in the photo back there,’ Hattie cocked her head in the direction of the hallway, ‘that was Luke’s mother.’

  ‘What happened …’ Claire stopped. ‘Sorry, it’s none of my business.’

  ‘It’s all right, really.’ Hattie patted Claire’s hand. ‘You’d think after eighteen years it would get easier.’

  ‘Eighteen years?’

  ‘Luke was only twelve when he lost her, the poor love. Most of the family had moved away from Starlight Creek by then and it was only me and Don left to raise him.’

  ‘That’s why you two are so close.’

  Hattie nodded. ‘I never thought I’d be a mother but losing Stephanie allowed me that chance.’ She straightened her back. ‘I would have given all that up to have Stephanie with us, of course.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Claire. ‘Is Luke an only child?’

  ‘No. Yes. Oh dear, it’s so complicated.’

  ‘It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘No, no, it’s good to let this air. Grief can’t hold our hearts prisoner forever. It doesn’t do anyone any good. Believe me, you don’t get to this age and not experience the pain of losing someone you love.’ Hattie stared into the distance. ‘We have two choices—let the heartbreak suck us under the dark waves and drown us; or find a way to ride those waves and keep our head above water, face to the sun, our hearts remembering but not weighing us down.’

  ‘I can’t even imagine how difficult it would have been for all of you,’ Claire said.

  ‘You’ve never lost anyone?’

  ‘No,’ said Claire. ‘I’ve been blessed.’

  ‘You have indeed, my lass. I hope you don’t have to go through something so tragic for a long time to come.’ Hattie clasped her hands on her lap.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking,’ Claire was tentative, ‘but what did you mean by it’s complicated about Luke having a sibling?’

  Hattie turned her head towards the screen door. The sound of dishes being washed and placed on the bench echoed down the hall, mixed with chatter from Luke and his dad.

  Hattie whispered, ‘Stephanie had complications during childbirth. Luke’s little brother was born and he was very sick. We lost Stephanie, then a few days later we lost Scott.’

  Hot tears welled in Claire’s eyes and she tried to swallow but a huge lump had formed in her throat.

  ‘It was a terrible, terrible time. After Luke was born, Don and Stephanie had trouble conceiving. In fact, they’d given up hope. Then out of the blue, almost eleven years later, Stephanie fell pregnant. You can imagine the joy everyone felt.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Images of Claire’s best friend Penelope and her baby flashed before her. She adored being an honorary aunt and felt extremely close to little Matthew. It was easy to see how Hattie had stepped up to the pla
te when she was needed most.

  ‘The pregnancy had gone perfectly, the baby seemed to be thriving in the womb but, as we now know, nature isn’t always predictable. So when she went into labour early we were all surprised and totally unprepared.’

  ‘Oh no.’

  ‘Emergency medical treatment in Starlight Creek was a bit more rustic in the seventies and the doctor did what he could but …’

  ‘I am so sorry,’ said Claire. ‘Though saying that just feels so inadequate.’

  ‘It’s very hard telling an excited twelve-year-old that he’s not only lost his little brother but his mother as well.’

  Claire gulped back a sob. ‘I just don’t know what to say.’

  ‘No one does, not even now. And it breaks my heart to see Luke and his father at loggerheads.’

  ‘They fight a lot? It looks like they get on reasonably well.’

  ‘Yes and no.’ Hattie looked around, like someone was hiding in the bushes. ‘Maybe I’m speaking out of turn, but I can see you and Luke have a thing for each other.’

  ‘We haven’t known each other for long and—’

  ‘Time has nothing to do with how we feel about someone. Sometimes you can meet a person and just know. You’re a good influence on him. He’s been a lot happier since you’ve been around.’

  ‘He practically yelled at me when we first met.’

  ‘He was just being protective of his old aunt.’

  The more she spoke to Hattie, the more the pieces of Luke’s puzzle fit together—not that she’d realised it was so complicated.

  ‘The thing is,’ Hattie smoothed down her skirt, ‘Luke inherited his mother’s artistic talents and his heart isn’t in farming.’

  ‘Ah, so because Luke is the only child, Don wants … needs … his son to follow in his footsteps because otherwise the sugarcane farm that’s been in the family for generations will be no more,’ said Claire.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘That’s a tough place to be in.’

  ‘For Luke, yes, but his father can’t see the pressure he’s putting on his son. Luke loves his father and wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.’

  ‘So he works on the farm and does his art on the side instead of pursuing it full time.’

  ‘The art is what drives a wedge between them. His mother was a clay sculptor,’ Hattie whispered. ‘Seeing Luke’s artistic talents reminds Don of Stephanie. He’s never gotten over losing her.’

  Claire studied the mountains in the distance. No wonder Luke had been so adamant about it being impractical and self-indulgent to pursue one’s dreams.

  The door creaked open and Luke appeared with two mugs of tea. ‘A late evening refreshment for the ladies.’

  He passed Hattie a mug then one to Claire.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, heartbroken with the knowledge of what Luke and his family had been through. How could she look at him now without her emotions showing? And now Claire had to process it all while Luke innocently leaned against the railing of the verandah.

  All she wanted was to hold Luke in her arms.

  CHAPTER 19

  1952 – Hollywood

  On the empty sound stage, Lena collapsed on the fold-up chair in a dark corner. Now that everyone had left, the time to reflect gave her a sense of closure for the day and helped her prepare for the next one. Today’s shooting had finally come together. Lena hadn’t messed up her lines or tripped over air while dancing, and she’d managed not to break into a sweat whenever Pierre touched her while they acted. Anna May and all of the chorus girls had done beautiful work and it was a joy to hear the voices come together and accompany Lena and Pierre on their duet.

  She kicked off the yellow heels and wished someone would come to her rescue and carry her back to the dressing room.

  Lena slapped her forehead. She was becoming just like the helpless heroines she depicted on-screen.

  ‘Do you always smack yourself in the face?’ Pierre sat on the chair next to her.

  ‘Do you always sit down uninvited?’

  ‘Touché.’ He put his hands behind his head. ‘Looks like we’re getting closer to being Hollywood’s hottest couple.’

  Lena looked away. She needed some quiet time but apparently Pierre had other ideas.

  ‘Jeanne Harris and Reeves Garrity are the hottest couple,’ said Lena. ‘Anyway, it’s not a competition.’

  ‘It is, according to the magazines and movie-goers. Why do you think Stuart Cooper keeps pushing our couple status?’

  ‘I wish he wouldn’t.’ Lena slid her feet back into the shoes. ‘It’s all stupid.’

  ‘What?’ Pierre looked incredulous.

  ‘I seriously don’t think us being a “couple” off-screen gets more people interested in us or our movies.’

  ‘My fans would say otherwise.’

  ‘How can all this be healthy, though? Men—and women—can be very successful without being tied to someone else.’

  Pierre let out a loud laugh and doubled over, clutching his side. ‘Oh, Lena. You do amuse me.’

  Tension gripped her shoulders and raced up her neck. ‘I am not here to amuse. I am voicing my concern that a woman is not considered successful in this industry unless she is attached to a man off-screen. Why are women seen as a threat just because they don’t have a husband? Or, worse, people think there’s something wrong with them, so no one will marry them?’

  Pierre snort-laughed then stopped. ‘You’re serious? Happy married couples on-screen, happy married couples off-screen, this is how they want it. Good little Americans living the dream. You don’t want to be responsible for tearing the very fabric of our society, do you?’

  Lena didn’t answer.

  ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I don’t see what you’re complaining about, you get paid plenty.’

  ‘Nowhere near as much as you,’ she grumbled.

  Pierre shrugged and her annoyance grew. Turning to face him, she said, ‘I’d like to see how you’d feel if the shoe was on the other foot.’

  ‘Men will always earn more and women will always be the sexy attraction.’

  ‘That’s the point, isn’t it? Why do things have to be a certain way? Change can be good, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ Pierre casually folded his hands behind his neck and crossed one leg over the other. ‘Well, changes are afoot.’

  ‘For women?’

  ‘Ha! No.’ He lowered his voice, his eyes not leaving hers. ‘Just wait and see.’

  ‘What the hell does that mean?’

  Pierre tut-tutted. ‘Such terrible language coming from those luscious lips.’

  Lena’s tolerance level for Pierre plummeted dramatically. ‘Why do I have to wait and see?’

  ‘It means what it means. No one is ever secure. Remember that.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘What are you angling at?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Pierre twirled the hat in his hand. ‘You really should get off your high horse about women being paid equal to men. It’s never going to happen.’

  Lena stood, hands by her side, fists clenching so hard she could feel her nails digging into her palms. She stormed towards the stage door then turned and glared at Pierre. ‘There is so much wrong with this industry and it all begins with people like you.’

  * * *

  After her argument with Pierre, Lena had gone home and straight to bed. Her entire body ached from the long day and her problems felt like they were weighing her down. The only way to fix this drained feeling was to sleep but that had been as distant as the moon. She’d tossed. She’d turned. She’d cursed Pierre. Cursed the Hays Code, Hollywood, society … the list grew as the hours dragged on.

  Hoping to get her mind off things, she dragged herself out of bed. Rubbing her eyes, Lena went to the bathroom, happy to finally have her first full-day break in months—no filming and no interviews had been scheduled. It was nice to step away from the journalists, who were never pleased about the studio’s publicist giving strict instructions as to wha
t they could ask. Her publicist supplied interviewers with a list of questions from which they could choose. No deviation allowed. Some tried, of course, but Lena intended on her private life remaining just that—private. Well, apart from her entanglement with Pierre. She had to give them something and in the grand scheme of things, a romance with Pierre was the perfect trade-off. By focussing on her current love life, it left little room for her past to surface.

  Dotty’s and Charlie’s faces flashed before her. Memories of shared happiness and the anticipation of unknown adventures twisted into fear and apprehension. Everything had changed so quickly. Lena clutched her stomach.

  Refusing to let mistakes of the past dictate the present, Lena dressed in a casual light grey pantsuit and dark green wedge heels. A few minutes later she was in the car, travelling east towards Roy’s Diner. If she didn’t get a wriggle on, she’d find a disgruntled George who had no tolerance for tardiness—something she wished she could change but her life these days was filled to the brim, even on her days off there was always someone wanting something. At least with George all he wanted was company and she was more than happy to oblige.

  Lena parked down a side street and walked into the diner. The tinkle of the bell above the door reminded her of when she’d first entered this place three years ago, alone and destitute. Amazing how things had changed in what seemed a heartbeat.

  ‘Well, well, well! What a sight for sore eyes!’ Meryl bustled over and Lena relaxed into her arms, realising how much she missed this embrace. Meryl pulled back and lightly pinched Lena’s cheeks. ‘My goodness, there is nothing of you! Come on,’ she led Lena to her once-regular booth, ‘I’ll make your favourite.’

  ‘Thanks, Meryl.’ Lena shuffled to the far side of the booth, happy to be back in the only place she ever felt at home. ‘It’s been too long.’

  ‘That it has. And I wanted to thank you for the tickets to your premiere. Roy and I had a wonderful time. I felt like the queen!’ Meryl fanned herself like a royal. ‘I tried to say hello but you were surrounded.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that. Premieres are crazy. Actually, the next few weeks are. Today is my only day off and I had to negotiate really hard for it.’