Page 93 of The Gathering Storm (Morland Dynasty #36)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The snow was down in New York, giving it a magical look.

Everything seemed cleaner sketched in black, white and grey.

Central Park was like an illustration from a Hans Andersen story: any horse-drawn carriage might prove to be the Snow Queen’s sleigh.

In the streets, steam rose from gratings like a giant’s tea-time, and hot-chestnut vendors in bright-coloured stocking hats hopped from foot to foot and blew on their fingers.

The shops along Fifth Avenue were lit up with Christmas displays, and in front of Saint Pat’s a choir collecting for charity sang carols.

Lennie had done a great deal of business, but had also been saying goodbye, not knowing when he would see it again.

He visited some old haunts, ate in favourite restaurants, saw a few Broadway plays – Androcles and the Lion , I Married an Angel , and Danton’s Death – and went to a number of parties and dinners.

He was still a popular guest, and could have gone to two or three every night if he’d wanted to.

He didn’t tell anyone it was a farewell: he didn’t want any fuss.

Then he took the train back to California, where there was no snow and very little mention of Christmas. Wilma was glad to see him back. ‘People been asking ’bout you, when you’re coming home,’ she said.

‘What people?’

‘Folks in general.’ She rolled her eyes.

‘And females in particular, ’quiring ’bout the big party, and who you’re taking with you.

I’m just about sick o’ saying I don’t know.

Miss Adeline Colby, she brung me a basket o’ fruit,’ her voice rose in indignation, ’spectin’ me to put in a good word for her. ’

‘Is that what she said?’ Lennie asked, amused.

‘She never said it, but I know that’s what she want. Bribin’ me! And what would I want with a basket o’ fruit? If I want a peach, I’ll go out and buy maself one. It was mos’ly jus’ one big pineapple, anyways, makin’ it look bigger,’ she sniffed.

‘How’s Rose?’

‘I couldn’t say. She ain’t hardly been at home, goin’ out gallivantin’ every evening.’

Lennie was alarmed. ‘She’s not getting into trouble, is she?’

‘I don’t think so, Mr Lennie. Mr Van, he’s been squirin’ her around. He’ll take good care of her.’

‘It wasn’t Van every time, though, was it?’

‘Pretty much,’ Wilma said, which meant yes.

Rose returned late that evening, and came rushing straight in to see Lennie and flinging her arms round him in a bear hug. ‘You’re back! I’m so glad to see you!’

‘How come? What have you been up to?’ he said suspiciously.

‘Working hard,’ she said. ‘You’ll see. All the photography’s done on Robin Hood , and they’re editing now. And there’s a lot of press interest. I guess Mr Feinstein was right about going to England to shoot – I get asked about that all the time. It was good publicity.’

‘And what’s the big news?’ Lennie asked. ‘What’s everyone talking about?’

‘Well, Mr Selznick has been seen out to dinner with Alexander Korda, and they say they were discussing some English actress he’s got under contract – Mr Korda has – that Mr Selznick wants to screen test for Scarlett O’Hara.

But Woody says Robin Hood will easily do better than Gone With the Wind , and in any case I don’t care about it, because Mr Feinstein’s got a new script for me.

It’s called Anastasia , and it’s about the last Tsar of Russia’s daughter who doesn’t get killed with the rest of them but secretly escapes, but the Reds find out and chase her all over Europe, and this gorgeous White Russian prince has to save her, and they fall in love and – well, you’ll see!

Woody says it’s a really good part for me.

He says Scarlett O’Hara is two-dimensional. ’

‘He’s probably right. What else?’

‘Oh – Anthea Taylor is getting married. It’s a big sensation because she’s marrying Romano Ortez, and he’s only twenty-five, and they’ve only known each other a few months. They met on the set of The Lion of Burgos . He was El Cid and she was Chimena.’ She looked at him anxiously. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘Why should I mind? I escorted Anthea a few times, that’s all. We parted ways on good terms.’

‘Oh, good, because they’re bound to be at the ABO party – she’s sure to want to show him off. You are going, aren’t you?’

‘Of course. How could I miss it?’ The ABO Christmas party, held at Al Feinstein’s vast pale pink mansion – which was loosely modelled on a French chateau and filled with reproduction Louis XV furniture and chandeliers the size of cartwheels – was one of the highlights of the Hollywood year.

Everybody who was anybody would be there, while anybody who had ambitions to become anybody would get up to any trick they could think of to secure an invitation.

‘And who will you be taking?’ Rose asked.

‘Nobody that I know of.’

‘Uncle Lennie! You can’t not take someone – what a waste! There are thousands of actresses out there who would give their hair to go. You have to take someone .’

‘I’ll take you, if you like.’

‘But I’ve got an invitation on my own account. I’ll ask Woody to choose someone for you.’

She seemed bent on it, so he let her, and Van Kerk came up with Leona Gaye, a young actress who had just had her first movie speaking part in The Unvarnished Truth . She was not only pretty but good company, and would be grateful for the opportunity.

The party was as such parties are – glittering, loud, lavish, full of people more interested in being seen enjoying themselves than actually enjoying themselves.

The press lined the red carpet on both sides of the entrance, and beyond them crowds of movie fans gathered to see the cars arrive and decant the stars who made their lives more interesting.

Lennie did his bit for Leona Gaye by walking slowly and making sure he did not mask her from the photographers.

They had just reached the doorway when he glanced back and saw that the next car had disgorged Anthea Taylor and her new husband, who was willowy, tanned, and had black curly hair, lustrous black eyes and a superfluity of very white teeth.

Anthea was looking radiant, smiling and waving as though all her dreams had come true.

As perhaps they had, Lennie thought, and turned his attention to his date.

She was very sweet and, as Van had said she would be, very grateful.

He walked about with her, introduced her to as many people as he could, and when he had presented her to William Wyler of Universal, Hollywood’s youngest director, and had seen that he was quite taken with her, he felt able to leave her there and slip away to be on his own.

All around him were the biggest names in California, and not only movie people: there were politicians and businessmen, artists and composers, authors, millionaires and moguls, socialites of all sorts.

All around him were bare shoulders and bare backs, glossy hair and sparkling teeth, silk and satin and sequins, jewels both real and paste, laughter both real and forced, heaving bosoms and meaningful smiles, opportunities sought and chances offered.

There were friends of his here, too, old acquaintances and business partners.

But he would leave them all without pain.

This had been his world for many years, but just now none of it seemed real.

In his mind a cooler, greener place called to him, and a woman without artifice whose least smile, unenhanced by orthodontic procedures, shook him to the bones.

Now coming to find him was Rose, elegant in backless black tulle weighted with bugle beads, her hand through Van Kerk’s arm, the smile of a transcendent angel lifting her beauty above the worldly.

‘Uncle Lennie,’ she said, a little breathlessly, ‘I’ve got something to tell you.

Or ask you.’ She glanced at Van and laughed.

‘I don’t know which! I’ve been making up my mind to ask you – tell you – but I didn’t know how.

And just this minute I saw you looking all pensive and a little bit sad, and I thought, This is Uncle Lennie. What am I scared of?’

‘That’s what I said to you,’ said Van Kerk.

‘I know, and you were right. Uncle Lennie, I want to get married. I’m going to get married. I know I don’t need your permission, but I’d really like your blessing.’

Lennie’s heart sank a little. Now what had she got up to?

Had she got herself mixed up with some preening male actor again?

Another disastrous marriage could prove fatal to her career.

Who was it? Not someone from Robin Hood , or he’d have heard.

And if Wilma didn’t know, she must have been keeping it very quiet indeed – which suggested it was someone she knew he wouldn’t approve of.

But opposition would only harden her resolve, so he refrained from barking, and said mildly, ‘This is very sudden.’

‘Um, not really. It’s been building up for a long time.

I just hadn’t realised, which was crazy of me, because I can see now there isn’t anyone else in the world I could love the way I love him.

Only you, but that’s different, you’re my darling Uncle Lennie, and he’s— Oh dear, I seem to be making a mess of this.

’ She laughed, and looked up at Van Kerk again.

Lennie looked at him sternly. ‘Did you know about this? You’ve been encouraging her?’

Van smiled indulgently. ‘Not at first,’ he said, ‘but once I saw there was no changing her mind … and I have to say that when I really thought about it, the idea absolutely enchanted me.’

‘You said you were appalled,’ Rose objected. ‘You said it was out of the question.’

‘It grew on me,’ Van said.

Lennie looked from one to the other. ‘What is going on?’

‘Haven’t you guessed? Oh dear, you’re very slow,’ Rose said. ‘I want to marry Woody, of course.’

Lennie stared. ‘Is this true?’ he asked Van Kerk.