Page 10 of The Lavender Bride

9

A NEW ROMANCE? Rex Trent’s latest date is former Sunday School teacher, Audrey Wade. Audrey’s his agent’s secretary. Did their eyes meet over her typewriter?

PHOTOPLAY , JANUARY 1952

The days between Christmas and New Year drag painfully. I feel more homesick than I’ve done since I arrived in America. I also miss Rex and the anticipation of our dates. I keep busy by learning to use my new camera and going to the cinema to see the new Ida Young movie, Snowtime , which is an MGM musical spectacular. Ida shines as the aspiring actress hungry for her big break. Not for the first time, I wonder what happened between her and Dirk and why the agency no longer represents her.

Too much time alone allows the old demons to haunt me. I worry Rex will meet someone prettier and more interesting while he’s in Illinois or simply realise he can do better than me. He’s a movie star with untold wealth. I’m just the girl from Sheffield who types Dirk’s letters.

It’s a relief when the festivities are over and I’ve got work to focus on again. Dirk takes Lillian to Palm Springs for the first week of January, leaving me with a long list of things to do in his absence, one of which is taking Sally Berry, one of the agency’s newest signings, to Crown Pictures for a screen test.

Determined to look as professional as possible, I wear my navy dress with a matching jacket that nips in at my waist. A red shell cap, belt and gloves makes it a little less severe. Even though I’ve not heard from Rex yet, I know he’s on set on the Ransome lot so there’s no hope of bumping into him while I’m at Crown. There’s still a huge thrill when I drive beneath the huge, golden crown that decorates the white, arched gateway. If Freddie and Father could see me now!

We’re directed to one of the large buildings decorated in the art deco style. A receptionist shows us into a waiting area. Sally’s breathing is a little ragged; her foot taps incessantly. Hoping to quell the nerves or at least distract her, I ask her about her family and hometown in Kentucky. By the time the talent scout calls her in, she’s calmer and smiles gratefully at me.

Seeing me sitting alone, the receptionist says, ‘She’ll be at least half an hour. Why don’t you go to the commissary and get yourself a cup of coffee?’

I follow the directions she’s given me, trying not to look wide-eyed and starstruck as I pass the sound stages. Sadly, all of the doors are closed but I hear jazz emanating from one of them and long to know what’s being filmed inside. A woman wheels a rack of dresses past me, their crinoline petticoats fluttering in the breeze. A movie camera is wheeled past on a complicated-looking trolley. I’m almost too distracted to spot the single-storey building that’s the commissary. It’s only when I register the smell of frying bacon I realise I’m right next to it.

It’s mid-morning and the place is pretty empty. The walls are white painted with beautifully lit photographs of the studio’s stars on the walls. A woman dressed as if she’s just got off a wagon train across the Prairies reads a script at one of the wooden tables, two men in paint-splattered white overalls chat to the middle-aged blonde behind the counter. I wonder who else has eaten in this place. No doubt Rex knows it well but there’ll be other big names who dined here like Dinah Doyle, Aidan Neil and dancing sensation Ann Roberts, who’s one of Dirk’s most successful clients.

I order a coffee and, as I’m paying, I feel a prickling on the back of my neck. Instinctively, I turn my head to see the man I met at the Chinese Theatre. He’s standing by the door and looks about as stunned as I feel. He’s wearing a pale-blue shirt with a periwinkle tie and a grey flannel waistcoat with matching trousers and carrying a buff-coloured folder. What on earth is he doing here?

I automatically take my change and by the time I’ve put it in my purse, he’s joined me at the counter. ‘Well, this is an unexpected surprise,’ he says. He smiles at me and my heart does a strange little flip.

‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, feeling slightly flustered by my reaction.

He grins, his eyes lighting up behind his glasses. ‘I work here.’

I blink at him in surprise. He works at the same studio as Rex? Of all the strange coincidences! Does he know I’m going out with Rex? Our picture’s only been in the paper once. If he doesn’t read Louella Parsons’s column, he’ll likely not have a clue who I am or who I’m (supposedly) dating. He certainly doesn’t look as if he’s anything but pleased to see me.

He raises a hand to the blonde behind the counter. ‘Usual, please, Thelma.’

‘Right you are, Jack.’ She gives him an indulgent smile as she pours coffee and slides a tube of M it’s always a risk with the flash. But I got a couple during the parade that I’m happy with. The final decision on what goes in the exhibition happens this weekend so I’m keeping everything crossed.’

‘When is it?’

‘The opening’s on 1 February at the Biltmore Art Salon.’

‘The Biltmore?’ Jack’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘How did you get in there?’

The Biltmore Hotel is a Hollywood institution. It hosted the Oscars ceremony many times before the war and pretty much every Hollywood luminary has stepped between the ornate pillars that guard its front door.

Heat creeps up my cheeks. I hope he didn’t think I’m bragging. ‘Mitch, who leads the camera club, knows the manager. They had a gap in their programme and they let us take it.’

‘Well, I hope it goes well. I might—’ Jack glances at his watch and instantly, his face changes. ‘Darn it, I’ve got to run. I have to get these drawings to my boss. He’s got a meeting with the producer at eleven.’ He pushes his chair back and stands. ‘Good to see you again, Audrey.’ He offers me his hand. Again, I feel that jolt of electricity as we touch.

‘And you, Jack.’ I like saying his name.

He smiles and then he’s out of the door. I watch him walk away. He’s not tall and powerful like Rex but there’s a compact energy about him which is very appealing. He turns and glances over his shoulder as he reaches the path and I blush at having been caught staring. I give him an awkward little wave. He raises the buff-coloured folder in acknowledgement.

I hastily drain my coffee cup and check my watch. It’s time I returned to collect Sally. I feel bad for not giving her a thought. I should have been hoping and wishing the screen test goes well but she went entirely out of my head when I saw Jack.

Fancy him working at Crown! It’s one of those strange coincidences I’d have thought impossible until I started working for Dirk and realised that Hollywood is actually a pretty small town.

As I walk back, I button my jacket. At least I’m looking good today. Not that it should matter. I’m with Rex, after all. I really should have said but the trouble with dating a movie star is that it sounds like bragging. Also Jack’s not given any hint he’s interested in me. Admittedly, he looked pretty pleased to see me but he might have a girlfriend or even a wife for all I know.

I cross my arms. If I see him again, I’ll mention Rex. Then I blow out a long breath. If he ever blinking well calls, that is!

* * *

Back at the office, eating my lunch at my desk, I open Photoplay and start reading. In Cal York’s Hollywood gossip column is the photograph of Rex and me taken outside Villa Nova. Although I look sophisticated in Ginny’s dress, the caption refers to me as former Sunday School teacher.

I can’t decide if I’m delighted or peeved. I’ve read Photoplay and fan magazines like it for years. Now I’m actually within its covers but they’ve made me sound as dull as ditchwater.

Ginny comes over and takes the magazine from me. ‘Nice to see my dress in Photoplay . It’ll be making all my other clothes jealous because it’s famous.’

I roll my eyes at her. ‘They’ve made me sound like my maiden aunt. Who told them I taught Sunday School?’

Ginny nods at Dirk’s office door. Even though my boss is in Palm Springs, I can feel his hand in this. I wish he’d asked me before he told Photoplay about my past. I’ve come all the way to Hollywood and now everyone knows me as the former Sunday School teacher.

‘Why would he want everyone to know that?’ I demand.

She shrugs. ‘You know Dirk. He’ll have his reasons.’

That doesn’t reassure me. I feel unsettled for the rest of the day. It feels wrong that Rex’s and my relationship is being proclaimed to the world when I’m feeling so uncertain about it. If he’d only called when he got back to LA then it’d be all right. It’s his silence that’s causing all of these doubts. Of course he’s busy with the new film but doesn’t he have five minutes to pick up the telephone? Not for the first time since I started seeing Rex, I wish I had a telephone at home. But that’s far beyond the likes of me. I have to save my dimes to use the public telephone in the entrance hall to the block of flats.

When I get home, I stare at the photograph, trying to remember the way I felt on that night out at Villa Nova. I was excited, thrilled to be asked out again. We had a lovely evening until the man asked for the autograph.

Then my thoughts slide to Jack. I see him grin at me, remember the way he made me laugh, feel again that rush of sensation as we touched. I like him. He’s interesting and interested in me which is pretty rare in the men I’ve dated. I wonder what he was going to say before he realised the time. Could it have been I might come along ?

I shake my head. Of course not. Why would he be interested in an exhibition of amateur photographers even if we are holding it at the Biltmore? He was just being polite. That’s all. I’ll probably never see him again.

After I’ve eaten, I write to Esther, telling her about Rex. I clip the photograph from Photoplay and include it with my letter. Putting the words on the paper steadies me. Rex will call soon and we’ll go out dancing again.

Yet the daydreams are harder to summon when I go to bed. There’s something itching at me that’s getting in the way of my fantasies. I wrap my arms across my chest and tell myself it’s an itch I don’t want to scratch. I want Rex. Everything will be fine when he calls.

Telling yourself everything will be fine is easy. If you repeat it enough times, it starts to feel true.

Until, of course, it isn’t.