The Rainbow Conspiracy

by Stuart Hopps

  ‘So, tell us Clive, what has that coffee shop to do with how you became a theatrical agent?’ Michael enquired.

  ‘A great deal, actually. The owner, Bobbie Kelly, became a good friend of mine. You see, from his café, he used to run a special catering service for theatres – not for the general public, you understand, but for the people working backstage. So every day he provided meals and sandwiches for people who worked behind the scenes: for stage management as well as the performers, and he did particularly good business on matinee days. As a matter of fact, as a student I went to work for him, and in between term times, I added to my pocket money by earning rather good tips from those delivery runs.’

  Michael claimed that he still couldn’t see how delivering sandwiches on a matinee day made his friend one of London’s leading agents.

  Shirley sprang to Clive’s defence and admitted that now she certainly did. ‘Just give him a chance and I think you’ll see the connection between Bobbie Kelly and Spoke Associates. Which for those of you who don’t already know, is the name of the theatrical agency Clive currently owns.’

  ‘Sorry, Clive. I suppose I’m so keen to know how it all happened, I’m being rather impatient,’ said Michael.

  ‘It’s one of Michael’s least attractive attributes, and only a mother can say so,’ said Gloria, not at all unkindly.

  Clive informed the gathering that eventually Bobbie got rid of his coffee shop, and set himself up in quite a different kind of business. He had made so many contacts in the theatre over the years and the Sunset Boulevard had attracted lots of people in ‘the show business’ as Clive liked to call his line of work. Many actors used to frequent the place during the daytime, as well as after the shows had come down at night. Clive explained that several years later, with the financial backing Bobbie gained from the sale of his catering business, coupled with his real grasp of the way that the entertainment industry worked, his friend formed his own theatrical agency. Because of his ability to spot talent he was able to persuade several actors to join him and he soon began to represent an impressive number. Within a year, the Bobbie Kelly Agency had managed to contract many promising newcomers and went from strength to strength and, with word of mouth spreading to his advantage, Bobbie’s books began to fill up and his agency soon became very successful.

  ‘And so this was the same Bobbie who had taken such a shine to you, the day you discovered that coffee shop.’

  ‘Yes, Michael. I was a cheeky SOB, and no sooner had I graduated than I asked him for a job in his agency. I told him I was prepared to be the tea boy and do almost anything if he’d take me on.’

  ‘Do almost anything?’ interjected Steve, to everyone’s amusement.

  ‘Well, if you’re suggesting that I may have been doing it with Bobbie, the truthful answer has to be in the affirmative. I mean to say, I wasn’t the only new boy on the block, benefiting from the interest Bobbie used to show in all of us.’

  ‘Clive, you really are a caution!’ screamed Shirley, which caused the entire room to burst into laughter.

  ‘And was that why he made you a partner in his firm?’ asked Steve, appreciating that his line of questioning was clearly helping the evening go with a swing.

  ‘Certainly not! Bobbie wasn’t just interested in my charms, you know. Oh no, Steve! He could see that I had a similar eye for spotting talent and perhaps saw in me a much younger version of himself.’

  ‘As your PA,’ interrupted Shirley, ‘I can certainly confirm that there’s no denying your capacity for spotting talent when you see it, nor your ability to judge character and see through people, and detect how dishonest folks can be. I can drink to that.’

  That last remark caught Allen unawares, and he almost choked on the glass of Burgundy he had just raised to his lips and he quickly covered up with: ‘Hear! Hear!’

  ‘So, yes,’ Clive continued, ‘and to cut a long story short, Bobbie eventually made me a partner in his firm and for a while everything went swimmingly. But I suppose I was just too ambitious, and being a good deal younger than my boss, I began to win the confidence of the less-experienced actors on his books, some of whom began to think Bobbie old-fashioned and came to me for guidance. I suppose the same thing may happen to me some day. Some of my clients might begin to think I’m old hat. What do you think, Shirley?’

  But before he gave her time to respond, he quickly added: ‘At any rate, things came to a head, and I decided to take the bull by the horns, leave Bobbie’s agency and go it alone.’

  ‘And truth to tell, he never looked back.’ And with a good deal of pride Shirley continued, ‘So Spoke Associates was born, and shortly afterwards I left Bobbie’s office to join Clive’s enterprise as a telephonist. I was ambitious too, you know. I didn’t want to remain a secretary all my life and I slowly worked my way up to becoming Mr Spoke’s PA, as I think you all know. He is much too self-deprecating to tell you about all the famous clients he has on his books to date, but I’m not.’

  ‘Now, Mummy dearest, I think we should leave my story there. I’m sure these good people have heard enough about me and Spoke Associates for one night, don’t you?’

  ‘Whatever you say. You’re the boss. And besides, I’m off to the kitchen to organise pudding.’

  ‘Oh! Don’t tell me we’re having plum pudding for dessert? How absolutely scrummy!’ exclaimed Steve.

  ‘No, sorry to disappoint’, replied Clive. ‘Once again I have to say that we may all speak English, but we don’t talk the same language. Pudding is just another word for dessert, and sometimes we call it “afters”.’

  ‘As I have learnt over the last week or so, our English cousins here just don’t speak American.’ And with that, Michael put smiles on everyone’s faces.

  The baked Alaska was a triumph and rounded off the meal nicely, and Clive proposed a toast to ‘absent friends’, which caused a slight cessation to the merriment. This prompted Michael, ever the perfect host, to bring brandy and liqueurs to the table, and he asked his dad to do the honours while, Clive suspected, he slipped away to the kitchen to dry his eyes. As Douglas poured Clive a Grand Marnier, he sidled up and gently asked him when he had first met Dennis. It was the moment Clive had been dreading all evening, but one he had naturally been prepared for. Shirley, ever attentive to her boss’s needs, and sensing the delicacy of the situation, suggested that she and Douglas change places, on the pretext of her being able to sit next to his wife so that she could get to know Gloria a little better.

  Clive explained that he had met Dennis in Provincetown in the late sixties and that they had remained in touch over the years, and added that Dennis wrote wonderful letters, which he had kept right up till the present day. Then he told Douglas that he’d first visited Columbus for the Bicentennial and that’s when Dennis had introduced him to Michael.

  ‘Dennis was like a son to us, you know. Gloria and I miss him terribly and we thought the world of him. AIDS is such a scary business and we feel so concerned for our Michael.’

  ‘You’re not alone there. But Michael tells me that you and Gloria have been so very supportive and I’m sure that to have such loving parents so close at hand must make a terrific difference, especially at a time like this.’

  ‘Well, Clive, we’re trying our very best to be there for him, and do as much as we can.’

  ‘I’m rather hoping I can get him to come to London for a couple of weeks. I think a change of scene will do him good, don’t you?’

  ‘Now that’s a great idea.’

  And feeling that he had Michael’s folks behind him, Clive decided to make his invitation more public by bringing the subject of travel into the conversation, and reminding Michael that he hoped he would come and visit London during the summer.

  ‘Can I come too?’ Steve was keen to ask.

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ said Clive. And besides, it will be good for Michael to have a travel companion with him. Shirley and I will be busy at work during the daytime, so he’ll definitely n
eed company. Would you like to join them too, Allen?’

  ‘I wish I could,’ Allen was quick to reply. ‘But we haven’t got our summer rota at the clinic formally announced yet.’

  ‘Well,’ interrupted Shirley, ‘Clive has instructed me to organise all your travel arrangements once you’ve sorted out your dates. All you have to do is just give me a call at Spoke Associates. Here’s our card.’

  ‘That’s most kind of you guys, but the clinic has to come first. Which reminds me, if I’m going to be on top form tomorrow morning for your check-up, Clive, I better be making tracks for home. I’m so sorry everyone, but I have to leave.’ Then, as he rose to his feet, he added: ‘But please don’t let me break up the party.’ ‘No, don’t you worry about that. Gloria and I want to find out more about all those movie stars Clive’s agency manages. Don’t we, Glor?’

  ‘Yes. I particularly want to know all about Anthony Pollard. Michael tells me he’s one of yours and I adored him in The Butler. What’s the dirt on him, I wonder?’

  ‘Shirley will fill you in on all the gossip on our Anthony,’ Clive called out as he left the table and accompanied Allen to the back door with Michael.

  Putting his jacket back on, Allen thanked Michael for including him and said what a great evening he had hosted.

  ‘And thank you Allen, for looking after Clive tomorrow morning.’

  ‘No problem. It’s what I’m here for.’ And with that he was gone.

  The dinner party had been a roaring success and Clive complimented himself on how pleasantly he’d managed to behave towards Allen, hoping against hope that he’d not betrayed the genuinely suspicious feelings he was harbouring, particularly now that he knew Allen had attended Arizona State University, of all places. Clive had adored meeting Michael’s charming parents and both parties made certain that addresses had been exchanged prior to bidding their fond farewells. Clive and Shirley hugged their host as they said their goodnights, and Michael confirmed that he would come to collect Clive at his hotel the following morning at nine o’clock. Steve, who was looking a lot better than when he had arrived, kindly offered to drive his new English buddies, as he called them, back to the Sheraton, for which they were most grateful. They waved goodbye to the Poledris, who joined Michael on the back porch as he wished his guests goodnight.

  Shirley sat up in front with Steve and they both chatted away as they drove back to the Sheraton. Clive, on the other hand, simply switched off and reflected on how touched he’d been by Douglas’s affection for Dennis. This took him back once more to his very first visit to Columbus and he once again was reminded of the deep love he had felt for his late friend and the many letters he’d received from Dennis.

  Surprises can be pleasant, but can be lonely. My thoughts have been in your favour as, evidently, you have favoured me with yours. I hope you are anticipating all the best here with me and, eventually, Michael, if you want? I believe I can speak for the two of us.

  Dennis wrote these carefully chosen words in a letter he posted to Clive just before their Columbus reunion in 1976. Judging from the tone of this one, and the many dozens he sent, it was not at all surprising that Clive found his penpal’s turn of phrase almost poetic and why, for a while, he felt so encouraged to maintain their transatlantic relationship with such a regular exchange of correspondence.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DENNIS FLASHBACK

  Once back at the Sheraton, Clive said goodnight to Shirley but was just too wide awake to go straight to bed. Try as he might, he just couldn’t forget the moving conversation he’d had with Michael’s father about Dennis and he found his mind racing back to that reunion with his Adonis when they had met up again in the Columbus airport arrivals hall in ‘76. He vividly remembered that his attraction for the now slightly balding 35-year-old man who stood before him was as strong as it had ever been.

  Dennis still displayed that marvellous physique, those piercing steel-blue eyes and exuded just as much sex appeal as he had when they’d first met. Clive was overjoyed to see his holiday romance once more, and was certainly impressed with the car that then transported him to where Dennis lived. As they turned onto the highway, they both noticed the flashes of lightning in the far distance and they could hear the rumble of thunder coming towards them.

  Finally Dennis proudly parked Benjy outside 257 Alexandria Colony Court South and asked Clive to help him put the hard top back onto the convertible, since he thought rain was imminent. Then Dennis presented his guest with his own set of keys, warmly escorted Clive up to his front door, invited him to open up the house and said he hoped he would make himself feel completely at home.

  Clive fully expected Michael to be standing on the doorstep but was told by Dennis that the pair of them had decided that it was too soon for them to move in together, and they both agreed to wait until their relationship had become more settled. Dennis explained that even though they had finally bonded, they’d decided to live in separate houses for practical reasons, which he would explain later on. Despite the fact that Clive had been unable to find a suitable partner for himself back in London, he tried not to be too jealous of Dennis’s good fortune in having discovered a soulmate in Michael. Consequently, he was determined to approve of the young man and accept him as a person in his own right and not just as Dennis’s new boyfriend. Clive truly hoped that, given time, he would make Michael a very close friend, which, as it transpired, was exactly what came to pass.

  Clive had been amused that Dennis immediately suggested his English pal take a shower while he attended to their evening meal. Like so many Americans, he was fanatical about cleanliness, which also reminded Clive of their very first meeting on Cape Cod when Dennis always seemed so keen on them both showering. However, this time, the Englishman had to admit to himself that he’d been on the road all day and definitely did need to bathe. Now, on his second visit, it still struck Clive that bathrooms and kitchens in the States were much better designed and equipped than they were back home and, then as before, he continued to consider the portable television set on Dennis’ washstand a bit over the top.

  Still unable to get to sleep at the Sheraton, he was reliving his first visit to Dennis’s home. Clive remembered that he had got undressed, jumped into the shower as instructed, and luxuriated for some time under the endless supply of hot running water. He always sang when he was happy, and that first night he had visited Columbus was one of the most joyous evenings he’d spent in a long time.

  Dennis, hearing his friend’s loud serenade coming from upstairs, suddenly appeared and startled the Englishman by poking his head through the shower curtain. Clive retaliated by splashing water over Dennis’s face in an attempt to get him to join him and he was utterly delighted when his lifeguard stripped off and climbed into the cubicle with him. As they started to soap each other down, Clive remembered paying particular attention to his shower buddy’s feet, since he knew how much Dennis liked to have his toes massaged. However, on that occasion, the ex-marine was not in the least bit appreciative and although Clive was obviously excited, his lifeguard remained totally unaroused. Refusing to admit defeat, Clive began to rub himself up against his pal’s soapy body in an attempt to turn Dennis on: but that approach also failed to produce the slightest response. Finally Clive took the hint, jumped out of the shower and left Dennis to complete his ablutions alone. Once towelled dry and robed, he shouted out over the loud sound of splashing water: ‘Well, if I can’t have you, I’ll have a cocktail instead. I’d love a Bronx!’ And he took himself off to the bedroom and got dressed.

  ‘Now that’s even a new one on me,’ Dennis shouted back. ‘What’s in it?’

  ‘Two parts gin, one part red and one part white vermouth, with a little added orange juice.’

  ‘Sounds great – I only hope I’ve got all the ingredients,’ Dennis replied as he got out of the shower.

  ‘Don’t worry … a Bloody Mary will suit me just fine.’

  He had such fond memories of his fir
st stay in Columbus and recalled that his friend had gone downstairs and organised the drinks: two Bloody Marys. Dennis had prepared their meal prior to driving out to the airport, and was in the middle of cooking it when Clive descended the open staircase. The dining table in the front room had been beautifully laid out with what looked like the best china, crystal and ironed napkins, and lots of candles had been lit

  ‘Dinner won’t be long,’ and Dennis handed Clive a cocktail. ‘Sorry, but I couldn’t fix a Bronx; I just didn’t have the white vermouth.’ Then he added: ‘To absent friends.’

  Clive thought that the toast referred to Michael, so they clinked glasses and each took a sip.

  Then Dennis added, ‘You know, I really miss my friend, Senator Jim. I don’t see so much of him any more.’

  That was the very first time Clive had actually ever heard Dennis mention the mysterious Senator Jim by name, and so he asked for more information about him.

  ‘Oh, he was one of my “regulars”. I really do miss that dude, but he’s now found someone closer to home … Actually, Clive, his life’s quite complicated. You see, he’s bi – he’s married and that – and although his family are back in Illinois, in his position as a senator, he can’t afford to be openly gay in Washington DC, so he leads a bit of a double life.’

  ‘I understand where you’re coming from.’ Clive replied. ‘I have a number of actors on my books who can’t own up to being gay because it could ruin their careers – some of them even get married. Let’s face it, the law in England only changed in ‘67 and that was barely a year before we first met; and remember how uptight I was then. But tell me more about your friend Jim … how did you two first meet?’

  Dennis made no response and walked away, so Clive followed him back into the kitchen and, spotting that the salad had been chopped and prepared, offered to make the dressing. Over dinner the ever-inquisitive Clive had many pressing questions to ask but let his curiosity about Jim drop for the time being. Little was he to realise what an important role Senator James Nelson would play in his late friend’s life, but Clive was to discover all about that some years later.