Page 15 of The Lavender Bride
14
‘Ready?’ Rita asks as she turns from applying lipstick in the mirror. We’re in the ladies’ cloakroom at the Biltmore Hotel. The exhibition opening starts in ten minutes.
‘As I’ll ever be.’ I turn to Rita and she runs her eyes over me from head to toe.
‘Pretty as a picture,’ Rita says as she twitches the collar of my green circle dress into alignment. ‘You’ll do your beefcake proud.’
I’ve got butterflies doing cartwheels in my stomach but there’s also a thrill of pride. My work was good enough to be included amongst some of the best amateur photographers in Hollywood. For a girl from Sheffield who bought her first camera from the pawnbrokers, that’s almost as big an achievement as dating a movie star! Any other day, I’d think, If Father could see me now but I don’t want another poisonous missive through the post.
I’ve been churned up all day, finding it difficult to concentrate at work, feeling unusually snappy with Ginny. I wish I could talk to her about the letter from Father but with her perfect family, how can she possibly understand? When she asks why I seem a bit blue, I tell her I’m worried about my interview with the INS, which is true but not the whole truth.
If the INS send me home then Father will think I’ve done as he asked and that will be unbearable. Leaving Hollywood would end my relationship with Rex and again, Father would think he’d won. So much rests on convincing the INS to renew my visa. When Rex gets here this evening, I have to talk to him about the INS. This time, I’ll be honest about how worried I am.
Rita’s the only person I’ve told that Rex is coming. I didn’t want the others to think I was bragging by announcing he’d be one of the guests. Since I visited his house on Saturday, that armour of confidence has felt stronger. I’ve spent a lot of time daydreaming about what it would be like to live with Rex in his beautiful home: to eat dinner together on the terrace, to swim in the pool. My imagination fails to find any use for his crazy bar but I decide to gloss over that. Perhaps Rex needs that space as Father needed his study and it’s simply something I’ll accept.
Only sometimes, it’s not Rex’s face that I see beside me but Jack’s and that jolts me out of the fantasy and lands me back in reality with a bump. He’s got no right to turn up in my daydreams. Yes, he was easy to talk to and not bad looking but I’m never going to see him again so it doesn’t matter.
Rita and I leave the ladies’ bathroom and cross the wide corridor to the art salon. The hotel is almost overwhelmingly plush and opulent. The walls are wood panelled like a gentleman’s club, the ceiling is intricately carved and the carpet is so thick, my feet sink into it. I’ve never been anywhere so luxurious.
The rest of the camera club are standing in a nervous huddle by the drinks table. There’s a pall of cigarette smoke above them. The space is overheated and a couple of people are fanning themselves with the exhibition programme. Instead of joining them, I stroll around the space, taking a last look before the public arrives. All of the photographs are framed in plain, black frames to give a sense of unity to the exhibition. There’s a wide variety of subjects from snakes to skyscrapers and babies to buffalo. To me, Rita’s four stunning landscapes are the stars of the show, capturing the sparse beauty of California.
Mitch, the chair of the group, greets me as I return. He’s in his late forties with a thatch of grey hair and permanent smile lines on his face.
The clock on the wall ticks up to 7p.m. and Mitch opens the tall, black doors. There’s a small group of people waiting, including Ginny and Nate.
‘Golly, you didn’t tell me you were part of such a talented bunch,’ Ginny says as she looks around the room. ‘Show us which ones are yours.’
As I lead them to the two photographs of mine, the butterflies in my stomach get even more frisky. I care what they think. I know Ginny well enough to recognise if she’s simply being nice, but her face lights up when she sees the photo of the drum majorette at the Santa Claus Lane Parade. The girl looks to be about sixteen, wearing a short, sequined dress with a ruffled underskirt. Her baton is still a foot above her head, her hand outstretched waiting for it to fall. Her face full of zest and focus.
‘I was standing right beside you and I didn’t see this!’ Her eyes are wide as she spins to face me. She genuinely thinks it’s good and that releases some of the tension I’m holding.
‘Why are you typing letters for Dirk if you can take photos that are this good?’ Nate asks.
I laugh, pride warming my belly. ‘Because I don’t get it this right very often.’
I show them the one of the girl at Santa Monica pier, bask in their compliments for a moment and then leave them to enjoy the rest of the exhibition. I chat to Rita’s daughter who has come to support her but I can’t stop my eyes darting to the door.
When will Rex arrive? My hand closes over the pearl bracelet he gave me for my birthday. I’ve imagined it so many times over the past few days. Our eyes will meet no matter how crowded the room is. As the whispers of, ‘It’s Rex Trent’ spread and grow, he’ll come up to me and kiss my cheek and my heart will almost burst with pride because I’m the one he’s come to see.
The minutes tick by. Ginny and Nate are full of praise for the exhibition but then depart as they’re going to catch a movie. I keep smiling and chatting but my nerves are trampling on my enjoyment of the evening. My armour of confidence is cracking. My throat feels tight. I touch my bracelet again and again as if that can magically summon him.
What if he’s forgotten? He knows the exhibition is important to me. If he can’t make it then what does that say about how he feels about me?
The heat is making my dress stick to my back. I get myself a paper cup of punch. It’s overly sweet but it eases my throat a little. I glance over my shoulder at the door again. Still not here!
I’m sighing out a long breath when a voice says a little tentatively, ‘Audrey?’
It’s not the voice I’m hoping for but it’s one I know. I turn to see Jack smiling at me. He’s wearing a cream sweater over a pale-blue shirt which makes his eyes look bluer. Much bluer. Goodness knows why I’m noticing that.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask.
‘You seem to ask me that a lot!’ Jack grins. ‘I remembered what you said about your exhibition and thought I’d come down and have a look.’
‘That’s very nice of you.’ I take another sip of the punch while I work out what to say next. I’m pleased to see him but Rex is due any moment and as soon as he arrives, all of my attention will be on him. ‘I hope you won’t be disappointed.’
Behind his glasses, his eyes shine with warmth. ‘Oh, I don’t think I’ll be disappointed. I get to see you again, after all.’
I blink as the words sink in. So he does like me like that. For a long moment, I stare at him, trying to figure out what to say. He’s interesting and easy to talk to and I can’t deny the zip of attraction. But I’m with Rex. I wrap my fingers around my bracelet.
‘I’m seeing someone.’ I gesture awkwardly towards the door with my paper cup. ‘I’m expecting him any minute,’ I add because I desperately want that to be true. Yet even as I say the words, something shifts inside me. Rex hasn’t come and, because of that, a crack is appearing in my beautiful dreams.
Disappointment washes over Jack’s face. It’s as if a light goes out and he’s been cast into shadow. He looks down, staring at his shoes for a long moment. Then he glances at the door, which is still closed. ‘I have a talent for bad timing,’ he says. ‘He’s a lucky guy.’
Heat rushes my cheeks. Not just from the words but from the yearning in them. It stirs emotions I’ve buried deep. Ones I’ve not felt since Freddie broke my heart.
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,’ Jack adds. ‘I promise I won’t keep you when he arrives but I’d like to see your photographs.’
I glance again at the door even though other people’s reactions would have alerted me if Rex had arrived.
It feels as if my ribs are tightening, squeezing the breath out of my body. Rex is still not here. The opening finishes in fifteen minutes and even if he’s planning to arrive at the last minute and sweep me off for dinner, he’s leaving it a bit late. Am I’m about to be stood up by my movie-star boyfriend?
There’s heat behind my eyes which means tears are close. I bite down on my bottom lip. I have a strong urge to dash from the room and hide in the ladies’ until everyone, including Jack, who’s looking at me far too intently, has gone.
It’s that intent gaze that straightens my shoulders and brings my chin up. I do not want to cry in front of Jack. Not when I’ve just told him my boyfriend is due any minute. Tears now would make it entirely clear he’s let me down.
‘They’re over here.’ I gesture for Jack to follow me.
Rita raises an eyebrow as I pass and I shrug because what else can I do? Thank goodness I didn’t tell the rest of the group Rex was coming because then I’d be utterly mortified.
‘These two are mine,’ I say, stopping in front of the majorette. I look sideways at him. I care what he thinks. For reasons I don’t understand, I don’t want to let him down.
Jack tilts his head and stares at the photograph for a long moment. ‘You’ve got a good eye,’ he says. ‘What made you take this?’
I mirror his pose, looking at the photograph instead of at him. ‘She makes it look effortless and that takes real skill. I wanted to capture who she is behind the sparkle of her costume.’
‘You’ve done that.’ He gestures and we move in unison to the photograph of the girl on Santa Monica pier. Again, he tilts his head. I find myself holding my breath.
‘What was it you said about there being truth in the moments we believe ourselves to be unobserved?’ Jack nods at the photograph. ‘You’ve captured that here.’
I stare at him, my eyes widening. ‘You remembered!’
I can’t believe he recalls exactly what I said outside the Chinese Theatre. I don’t know what to do with that, because so few people have ever taken that kind of care with me. Even Rex or he’d be here now. I shove that thought away.
Jack must hear the surprise in my voice because he turns to me. ‘When a beautiful girl crashes into me, I tend to pay attention!’ His eyes crinkle. There’s a glimmer of amusement in them but as he holds my gaze, I know he’s not ribbing me; he thinks me beautiful.
Those eyes! Why do they pull me in? Why do I want to stare into them and not stop? Why do they make me feel a deep yearning? To be held, to be kissed, to be loved.
I tug at my collar. It really is ridiculously hot in here. My hands land on my hips as my chin comes up. ‘Why are you so nice to me?’
Jack looks stunned. ‘Because I like you. I like you a lot.’ He studies my face for an uncomfortably long moment. ‘Why is that hard to understand?’ He speaks softly as if I’m a wild animal that might startle at any moment.
I look away as heat builds again behind my eyes. I take a breath and it’s ragged and uneven. The barbs in Father’s letter dart into my mind. Weak. Easily swayed. Silly. That’s how my own father sees me.
I swallow hard, shoving the tears and the emotions away. I didn’t leave home, scrimp and save through the years in London and then sail away from everyone I know to find myself in tears in front of a man I barely know. I did it for the dream of a life in Hollywood. I did it to be with Rex. And I won’t allow Father or the INS or Jack to take it away from me.
Suddenly, all of the anxiety, confusion and hurt fuse into anger. ‘You have no right to ask me that.’ My hand folds over my pearl bracelet to give me strength. ‘You hardly know me.’
As I say the last words, my heart knows I lie and it hates me for it. Because I’m denying something essential and true. There’s a pulse between us. It’s in that jolt of attraction but also because he’s interesting and makes me laugh and has eyes that I could fall into. He recognises it too. I can see it in his steady gaze. It’s why he came this evening. But what he’s offering is impossible.
I may be a dreamer but this is a dream I don’t want. I can’t want. I’m with Rex. I’m wearing the beautiful bracelet he gave me. I can’t have moments of intense connection with someone else. That would make me a tart, just as Louella Parsons thinks I am. But I’m not that person. I do not betray people. Unlike Freddie, I am loyal.
Sadness, frustration and loss flicker across Jack’s face so quickly that if I blinked, I’d have missed them.
‘Okay, Audrey. You win.’ He bows his head and the resignation in the movement makes me want to cry.
Just as he’s about to turn away, Rita comes to join us. ‘Where’s Rex?’ she asks.
Her question forces me to face the truth. He’s stood me up. Disappointment kneads at my stomach. I tug again at the collar of my dress. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I expected better of him,’ Rita says, crossing her arms. ‘Even movie stars should be punctual.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jack’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘Rex is your boyfriend?’ he says, taking a step closer to me. ‘Rex who?’
I open my mouth but no words come out. I feel hot and nauseous and weighed down with disappointment.
‘Rex Trent,’ Rita answers for me. ‘He’s supposed to be taking her out to dinner after the opening.’
My gaze darts to Jack. He’s staring at me as if he’s never seen me before.
All of the colour drains from Jack’s face. ‘You can’t be!’ Shock thrums through his voice.
I tug again at my collar. The heat in this room is unbearable. I need to get out of here before I do something unforgiveable like passing out or throwing up on Rita’s patent pumps.
‘Excuse me,’ I say. ‘I need the bathroom.’
I’m at the door when Jack catches up with me. He holds it open for me and I barge through. It’s marginally cooler in the corridor.
‘Is it true, Audrey?’ he calls after me. ‘Are you really dating Rex Trent?’
I spin on my heels. Even though he’s not here, I’m going to stand up for him because it’s the right thing to do. ‘Why is it so hard to believe?’ I fling the words at him. ‘Am I not good enough for Rex?’
Jack shakes his head, looking pained. ‘Not at all. You’re far too good for him. I can’t believe?—’
‘He promised he’d come.’ The fact Jack clearly thinks badly of Rex forces me to defend him. ‘He’s not usually late.’
Jack raises a single eyebrow. ‘Oh, Audrey!’ There’s enormous sadness in his words and there’s a subtext as well. I go cold all over as the doubts I’ve stowed carefully away suddenly become impossible to ignore. Freddie said exactly those words. But I cannot think of Freddie now.
‘Why—’ I grab my dress and tug it away from the burning skin of my chest. ‘Why do you say that?’
He takes a long breath as if debating what to say next. Then the door flies open and Rita rushes towards me. ‘Audrey, are you okay? I was coming after you but Mitch stopped me.’
I grab onto her as the most solid thing in my life. Rita will push all of the doubts away.
‘I felt faint. It was too hot in there.’
Rita’s arm comes round me, guiding me away from Jack and towards the door to the ladies’. I sink into the comfort of her no-nonsense fussing. I splash cold water on my face, drink the glass of water she fetches me and try very hard not to think.
* * *
Eventually, I go home because there’s nowhere else to go. The silence of my flat unnerves me. I put the radio on. It’s playing ‘Beautiful Brown Eyes’ by Rosemary Clooney which, of course, makes me think of Rex.
There are a dozen conflicting thoughts swirling through my brain. At the top of the maelstrom is the question I’ve pushed away for weeks and that Jack’s words have made it impossible to ignore. Why was Jack shocked that I’m dating Rex? What made him say ‘Oh, Audrey!’ with such inexpressible sadness?
I clutch my bracelet as if that can bring my belief back. But the magic has gone. If I’m being na?ve again, I have to face it. I will not be ambushed again.
A shudder shakes my entire body. I can’t hold back the memory. As the smell of sour milk fills my nostrils, I’m falling back through time to that house in Camden with the Soviet Union flag on the wall.