The Winter Secret

by Lulu Taylor

  Xenia was sorry that she would miss it. Mama had explained that she would not be in the big scene of the crash when it was filmed outdoors – a double would be in the car because they couldn’t risk her getting hurt. But in the studio, she would sit in the car with a film of the outside moving while the camera stared in at her, which sounded strange but would apparently look fine on screen, as if the car were travelling along a mountain road. Xenia couldn’t change her mind though. ‘I can’t, Mama. I don’t feel well.’

  ‘Don’t you, darling?’ Mama put a hand on Xenia’s forehead. ‘You don’t have a temperature. But if you feel sick—’

  ‘I do,’ Xenia said hastily.

  ‘Then you must stay in bed. I’ll see that the maid brings some iced water for you.’ Mama kissed her. ‘I hope you feel better soon. I don’t want you to miss the finale, we’re filming that tomorrow or the next day.’

  ‘I will.’

  Xenia watched her mother go, knowing she would feel perfectly all right because there was nothing wrong with her. Papa had told her this was the best thing to do to protect Mama and keep her happy, and so she was willing to sacrifice seeing the end of filming, to please him.

  Someone must have seen what that man did to her in the darkness, because Papa had come to see her that evening, when she’d been sitting reading in the school room to take her mind off it, his expression grim. ‘Xenia,’ he’d said, ‘did the man who plays Julius . . . did he try anything with you today, when you’d finished the scene?’

  Xenia blushed violently, and felt ashamed. She said in a small voice, ‘Yes, Papa. He kissed me. After I was in the coat-check scene.’

  Papa looked grimmer than ever. ‘On your mouth?’

  ‘Well, no, not on my mouth, it was more . . .’ Xenia crinkled up her nose as she remembered. ‘It was in my ear. And he put his hand on my . . . on me – here.’ She laid a palm lightly on the centre of her chest, too embarrassed to show where the man’s hand had actually landed and how much force he’d put into his caress.

  Papa began to pace the school room, his fists clenched. ‘I’d like to punch that cad,’ he said, his voice strange and tight as though he was talking through his gritted teeth. ‘He didn’t hurt you, did he?’

  ‘No.’ Xenia shook her head. It was true. It had been horrible but not painful.

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I pushed him, and I ran away,’ she said, hoping that had been the right thing.

  ‘Good. I’m sorry that horrible man touched you, my darling. He’s a beast.’

  ‘Should we tell Mama?’ ventured Xenia, feeling less ashamed now that Papa knew that she hadn’t wanted the man to kiss her.

  ‘No!’ Papa declared vehemently. ‘We mustn’t do that. She’d be devastated. She’d walk off the film, or she’d have him sacked, or she’d refuse to work with him. It would destroy everything.’ Papa came over and sat down on the desk where she was reading, looking at her intently while he reached for a cigarette from the silver box in his pocket. ‘She could easily cause a scandal, Xenia. News will leak – everyone loves a whisper of bad behaviour like this. Then it will blow up and the film will be lost in the storm of gossip. Do you understand? The film would be lost – all the hard work we’ve all put into it, all the anticipation for it, everything the studio has done to stoke expectations – it will all be wasted. Mama’s one chance would be gone.’

  ‘I don’t want that,’ Xenia whispered.

  ‘None of us do. That’s why we must hide the truth from her. So that we can protect her, and she can work. Will you do that, Xenia?’

  ‘Of course I will.’ She gazed back, hoping he understood that she would do anything to protect Mama.

  ‘Good. Then stay at home for now. I’ll talk to Archibald and explain, and he can get that bounder off the set as soon as possible. He’ll understand that Mama mustn’t know anything about it. He knows perfectly well what she’s like, that any suggestion that you’d been hurt would put her in a terrible state.’

  ‘Of course. Can I . . . can I go back to see the last scene? Mama promised I might?’

  Papa thought for a moment. ‘If that man is gone, then I don’t see why not.’ He smiled at her. ‘You’re being very brave. It’s the right thing for Mama, and we both want that, don’t we? We’re so close, the film is almost done. And then everything will be fine.’

  Papa must have spoken to Archibald Thomas and sorted everything out, because the actor who played Julius was gone when Xenia went back to the studio to watch the last scene being filmed before they moved to the outdoor locations. Xenia felt proud of herself for helping Papa to protect Mama from anything that might upset her. She realised now that everything rode on Mama being strong and happy, and they must all do whatever was necessary to help her. That was why, with shooting going on longer than expected, Xenia was sent home alone so that she could start the new school term, crossing the ocean on board the great liner with only Gunter for company. There were no glamorous dinners this time: they mostly ate in the cabin, early so that Xenia could get a good night’s sleep and Gunter could knit herself out of the fear that they would sink at any minute.

  When they were back at the London house, it felt as if they had never been away, and everything that had happened in California was just a strange dream. She could almost have believed that, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Papa and Mama were still there, so far away.

  Mama wrote to her often from the film set, filling pages of writing paper with her scrawling handwriting:

  Darling Xixi

  We are on location at the moment, it’s so disconcerting. I’m still in my trailer but instead of stepping out into that great big sound stage, I exit into the garden of a beautiful house, where we are filming some of the outdoor scenes. I’m sorry you were so upset on the last day at the studio. I didn’t actually get shot! I’m still here, I’m fine.

  Papa is so glad that we are almost finished filming. Then he will come home to you! I’m afraid I have to stay a little longer away from you, in case I’m needed for reshoots. And then we will have to do our publicity for the movie before it is released, but I hope I can come home before then and return when they need me. It might be months more before it is in the cinemas. But Papa always knows best.

  I’m sending you all my love, darling. Write and tell me how you are. I’ll write back to you soon too.

  Mama xxx

  The letters smelt of lily-of-the-valley and cigarette smoke. Xenia kept them under her pillow and read them at night when she couldn’t sleep.

  It was another month before Papa came home, and Mama was not with him.

  ‘She’s staying in California,’ Papa explained, home at last from his ocean voyage. ‘It’s important she’s there while the buzz builds for the picture – other directors will want to see her. And she must be seen at all the best parties and with the right people.’

  ‘Don’t you want to be there, Papa?’ Xenia asked, worried. She felt sure that Mama should not be alone.

  ‘She was becoming very anxious about you here by yourself. In the end, it was better to return. I’ve left her in the care of a very responsible lady who knows how to look after her. And there are things to be done here before she gets back.’ He smiled at Xenia. ‘Our lives are about to change, my dear. Just wait and see.’

  The motor car roared down the long road past Andover and out towards Salisbury, the engine grating with every gear change.

  ‘Are you excited, Xenia?’ Papa said, casting a glance at her, smiling broadly before turning back to the road. ‘Look, darling, that’s Stonehenge!’

  She turned to look across Papa at the circle of stones in a field at the side of the road. ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘I think you will love this house,’ he said confidently. ‘And Mama will love it too.’

  ‘But, Papa, do we need another house?’

  ‘Naturally. We have our London home, and we need our country place. That is just how it is for people like us. It’s how we live. It�
�s how a famous actress like Mama ought to live.’ The film had opened in America and broken box office records, and Papa couldn’t hide his excitement that everything had worked out as he’d hoped: Mama was a great star, there were more offers for films and it was certain that she would be nominated for acting awards after the rapturous critical reception of Delilah. ‘We’ll make a wonderful place for her, one she will love.’

  If it makes Mama happy, then it must be the right thing to do.

  An hour later, they drove into a small village, past the village green and a public house with a faded sign hanging outside that read ‘King’s Head Tavern and Hostelry’. Then down a lane, past a pair of twin stone houses, and they were outside a pair of large iron gates that stood open, framed by pillars with elegant stone greyhounds on top.

  ‘Here we are!’ Papa announced. ‘Charcombe Park. A grand country seat. Reduced for a quick sale.’

  The motor car roared up the drive, through velvety parkland. Deer grazing under oak trees looked up startled and bounded off as they passed. Then the house came into sight: a gracious manor in a classic shape in golden stone, with elaborate chimneys and mullioned windows. ‘It’s beautiful!’ she said, awed.

  ‘Yes. Exactly right,’ Papa said, beaming with satisfaction. ‘Ah – that must be the owner.’

  The current owner of the house, a thin, gaunt-faced man with a bald crown and a shabby tweed suit, came out to meet them. He wanted a quick sale, he said, because death duties were doubly onerous. His father and then his elder brother had died within a week, leaving twice the amount of duty to pay.

  ‘It’s insupportable,’ the man said as he showed them around, sadness etched into every part of his face. ‘I simply cannot bear it. The cost, I mean. We must sell.’

  He took them all over the house, and when they had finished their tour, Papa was more effervescent than ever.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ he said. ‘Quite beautiful.’

  ‘Yes.’ The owner sighed. ‘It is a great sorrow to me that we will lose this place. I hope you’ll look after it.’

  ‘Of course we will,’ Papa said firmly. ‘You don’t need to worry about that. The house will be in safe hands.’

  On the way home, Papa said, ‘What did you think? Isn’t it beautiful?’

  ‘It seemed very old, there were hardly any bathrooms,’ Xenia ventured. Perhaps the comfort of the house in Hollywood had spoiled her more than she’d thought.

  ‘There’s work to do, certainly. We’ll get on with it as soon as we can.’

  ‘Didn’t you think it was cold? All the rooms seemed chilly to me.’

  ‘We’ll put in new heating. Besides, old houses are always cold. We’ll warm it up all right!’ Papa slapped the steering wheel with excitement. ‘I heard that a well-known film director lives nearby. We’ll be at the heart of a whole new world. It’s perfect for us, Xenia. Perfect!’

  Xenia said nothing more. What did it matter if she hadn’t really liked the house, despite its beauty? She had felt oppressed inside it, and had been glad when they’d come out through the great front door to the open air. But Papa had set his heart on it, and he was always right.

  Mama came home just a few weeks later. They went to the airport to meet her from her flight, and the place was alive with anticipation. The film had opened all over the world to the same ecstatic reception, and it seemed that everyone had seen it. News reporters and cameramen jostled for the best position behind the barriers that held them back on the Tarmac outside, ready to record the return of Natalie Rowe after so many months away and such a glittering success. Crowds of well-wishers and fans pushed up against the temporary railings or stared down from the airport windows. Xenia and Papa stood in front of the barriers, windswept by the breeze from the runway, waiting for the plane to taxi to a halt, the steps to be pushed to the door and the little hatch in the side to open.

  As soon the door swung back, the cheers began, and suddenly Mama was there, standing at the top of the stairs, glamorous in her fur coat and dark glasses, her hair glossy, her red lips shining in a bright smile as she waved and acknowledged the welcome. She came down the steps from the aeroplane slowly and gracefully, every inch the star, to be met by an airport official and escorted across the concrete to Papa and Xenia. When she reached them, she fell into Papa’s arms and then took Xenia’s hand, kissed her and whispered, ‘I’m so happy to see you again, my sweet child. Let’s go home.’

  Inside the airport, more crowds of admirers and fans were held back behind barriers, screaming, jumping up and down and calling her name. Some held out books for her to sign and sighed with pleasure as she passed.

  ‘Oh, Natalie! Talk to us, Natalie! Please give me your autograph. Delilah! Please talk to me . . . We loved your film. We love you, Delilah!’

  Mama waved but did not stop. She held Xenia’s hand tightly and hurried on, her high heels clicking on the tiled floor as they went. She seemed tense.

  In the chauffeur-driven limousine, she was shaking. ‘It’s like this everywhere,’ she explained. ‘People – everywhere! They want to own me, possess me. Sometimes I think they want actual pieces of me, and they would be happiest if they could tear me into bits in a frenzy.’

  ‘But it’s wonderful, Natalie,’ Papa said serenely. ‘They love you. They want to see more of you. The most important thing we can do is decide which film you will do next.’

  ‘I’m tired, Paul. I need a rest,’ Mama said.

  ‘You’re absolutely right, darling. A rest is what you shall have. We have a special surprise for you.’ Papa’s gaze slid to Xenia and he winked. ‘Haven’t we, Xenia?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh?’ Mama looked at Papa, eyebrows raised, her expression slightly anxious.

  ‘Don’t worry. You’ll love it. But all in good time. We’re going home first, so you can have a good long sleep after your flight.’

  But at home, there were more reporters with cameras waiting outside, waiting for a glimpse of Natalie Rowe. As they got out of the car, flashbulbs exploded and the reporters shouted questions. Papa had put his arm around Mama and hustled her quickly inside, saying, ‘There’ll be an interview later, boys, but leave us alone for now, can’t you?’

  Xenia followed along behind, clutching Mama’s handbag to her chest and keeping her eyes half shut against the popping lights and all the chaos. She was relieved to be inside, away from all the noise and ruckus.

  Inside, with her coat off and shoes discarded, Mama went to the drawing room window, and then shrunk away. ‘They’re still outside! How awful.’

  Papa came in, lighting a cigarette. ‘You should be pleased, Natalie. This is an index of how popular you are, how much people want to see you. This will translate into work and money and success. We must desire this. Encourage it!’

  ‘But I don’t like it,’ Mama said in a thin, nervous voice.

  Papa went to her and embraced her. ‘You don’t need to worry. I’ll look after you, I promise. You’ll never be hurt. I’ll always be here to protect you.’

  Mama seemed to sink into his arms, her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed.

  ‘Now,’ said Papa in a jolly voice. ‘Tea!’

  That evening after dinner, Mama came up to Xenia’s bedroom and sat on the side of her bed, and they talked for a long time. Mama’s eyes filled with tears when she said that Xenia had become a young woman while she had been away. She told stories of what it had been like to make another film, which she’d done while they were editing Delilah – ‘Done and dusted in three weeks, can you imagine that? Sly Manikee is a different kind of director to Archie, that’s for sure!’ – and of the marvellous parties she had been to in Hollywood. ‘There was an actual elephant there, Xenia, can you believe that?’

  ‘Are you glad to be home?’ Xenia asked. It was wonderful to have Mama back; just looking at her made Xenia feel full to the brim with a kind of peaceful happiness, as though, after a long time of being askew, things were right again with the world.

 
; ‘I’m so happy to be with you.’ Mama hugged her tightly again. ‘But I know Papa has lots of plans for us. He wants us to have parties, meet everyone, show ourselves off. I’m so tired. I need to rest.’

  ‘Papa will understand. He’s just happy to have you back at home with us.’

  ‘I know, darling. I know.’ Mama sighed. ‘He wants what’s best for me. We must always do our best to please him, mustn’t we, little Xenia?’

  Papa threw his arms wide, gesturing expansively to the whole of the drawing room of Charcombe Park, furnished in exquisite silks and mahogany furniture.

  ‘Isn’t it wonderful, Natalie? Don’t you love it?’

  Mama stood there, looking bewildered, not quite able to take in what was happening. ‘This is our house?’ she said wonderingly.

  ‘Yes! And I thought that we could hang your portrait right there.’ He pointed to the wall above the fireplace, where there was a space exactly suited for a painting. Mama’s portrait, the one that had featured in the film, had arrived in a wooden case packed with straw and a note from Archibald Thomas, congratulating her on her nomination for the most famous movie acting award of all. Papa had kept the secret of the house for two months while the workmen finished, and he had told Xenia to keep it too. He’d taken her with him to antiques dealers and auction houses, to help him choose all the things they needed for a house like this: endless beds and chests of drawers and wardrobes; antique chairs, tables and sofas; paintings; fine china, silver and glass; champagne coolers and giant porcelain tureens.

  All so that he could unveil the house as a magnificent surprise for Mama, finished and complete. His excitement was infectious, but Xenia could tell that Mama was aghast at the size of the house.

  She went to the French windows and gazed at the view of the terrace, and the velvet smooth lawns and topiaried pyramid bushes. When she turned round, her eyes were anxious and she said seriously:

  ‘Paul, this is too much.’

  ‘It was reduced!’ Papa said, looking hurt at even this mild remark. ‘We can afford it in any case.’