Page 17 of The Lavender Bride

16

HOLLYWOOD, FEbrUARY 1952

Once I take the blinkers off, it’s obvious. Rex has never kissed me because Rex doesn’t like me that way. Like Freddie, he’s let me believe there’s something between us. And like with Freddie, I’ve blown that up into imagining a beautiful, perfect life that’s never going to happen.

In truth, I’ve been silly and easily swayed, just as Father said. I hate that he’s right. That even across the Atlantic Ocean, he sees my faults before I do.

I drop my head into my hands and then curl up on the sofa, hugging my legs into my chest. I’m suddenly cold. I tug the blanket that covers the sofa until it’s loose and then wrap it around me. I need its comfort, its warmth.

Rex will never love me. I’ve been waiting for something to happen that never will. I’ve created all of these wonderful dreams of the life we’ll live together and they’re gone now. Broken and shattered. He won’t ask me to marry him. Because he’s not the marrying kind.

I’d planned it all. I’d seen the dress I’d wear at our wedding, the meals I’d cook when he came home from the studio, the friends we’d invite round for brunch. Those dreams were as real to me as the time Rex and I spent together. I’d lived through every minute of our dates in my head many times before Rex picked me up. How we’d talk endlessly and effortlessly. How the time would fly by. How I’d feel safe and loved in his presence.

How am I going to tell people that we’re not seeing each other any more? For the first time in my entire life, I’m the girl everyone envies. To give that up will hurt. Especially as I can’t tell anyone the truth and because of that, they’ll believe Rex got fed up with me. I’ll become just another girl in the string he’s dated. I can imagine Louella sharpening her pencil, ready for some spiky comment about how the English secretary was never going to hold Rex’s attention for long. I’ll be yesterday’s news.

And Father will believe I gave Rex up because he told me to. I drop my head in my hands. I can’t bear him thinking he still has sway over my life and my decisions even though I’m 5,000 miles away. Well, I’m not leaving Hollywood. Not unless the INS forces me to go.

I unclip my pearl bracelet and lay it on the arm of the sofa. It’s part of the lie too.

If only Rex had told me the truth. I know it’s an absolutely enormous secret that could destroy his career. But he should have trusted me. I’ve been lied to again and I hate it!

Why did Rex imagine I’d judge him if I knew the truth? I wasn’t as understanding with Freddie as I should have been but I wouldn’t have made the same mistake twice. Rex has heard me ranting about McCarthy and his bigotry. Wasn’t that enough of a clue that I’d have understood if he’d told me the truth? He didn’t have to keep pretending. If he needed a girl on his arm, I’d have happily gone on dates with him and posed for photographs to keep the studio and the newspapers happy. It would have been fun to know we were pulling the wool over the eyes of Louella and her ilk.

Didn’t Rex give any thought to how I’d feel when he asked me out? Obviously, the answer to that is no. I’ve been useful to him, just as I was useful to Freddie back in Sheffield. My hands spike in frustration. When is a man going to like me for who I am? Is it too much to hope that I can be loved as Audrey?

I cross to the kitchenette, pull out the bottle of gin Ginny gave me as a flat-warming present. I don’t normally drink on my own. ‘The road to ruin’, Father would call it. I pour a slug into a glass and add a dash of lime cordial and a spoonful of sugar to make a gimlet. I give it a quick stir and then take a great gulp.

The tartness of the lime hits the back of my throat. I want it to erase the last few hours. To take me back to the anticipation before the exhibition opening when my dreams were still keeping me aloft. Before everything crashed and my beautiful fancies were smashed into the dust.

I sit down heavily on the sofa again. My drink splatters onto my skirt. Oh, for heaven’s sake! But it’s too much effort to get up and clean it off. I flop against the back rest and stare up at the ceiling.

How could I be such a fool? I must have the worst instincts of anyone in the entire world.

How did I miss the signs? Not just the fact he’s never kissed me. From the beginning, he was only going through the motions. And I didn’t see it because I was so caught up in the fantasy I’d created of dating a movie star. I was in love with the idea of being with him and completely failed to see that the reality didn’t match.

What is wrong with me? I’m not a child any more. I know men like men. And of course Rex can’t be honest about that. It’s ridiculous to expect it. Not when Senator McCarthy is telling everyone the worst thing you can be is a Communist or a homosexual. My fists tighten at the thought of McCarthy. He is bringing out the absolute worst in people, making them as intolerant as Father.

I blow out a long breath. It’s not Rex’s fault. He’s forced to hide if he wants to keep his career. In the movies, he plays tough guys who love hard and that’s what people want to believe he’s like in real life. I wanted to believe that was the truth. I couldn’t tell the difference between the man on the screen and the man in real life. And I treated my beloved film magazines as gospel when the articles about him dating various starlets were actually camouflage.

Oh, my goodness! All of the breath goes out of me in a whoosh. It was right in front of me. I saw it when Rex was with Tony Young. That ease they had together. I was jealous of it. Exactly as I was jealous of Freddie and Michael and yet again, I failed to put two and two together to make four.

I should have realised when I saw the photographs in Eyewitness . But I was so busy admiring Rex in his swimming trunks that I didn’t see the hints and innuendos in the article. Are Rex and Tony together? Is he the one he really loves?

I squeeze my eyes tight shut. Does everyone else know? Jack does. What about the rest at Crown? Were they all laughing at the na?ve little idiot that Rex was dating? And Dirk? He knows everything about Rex. Is this why he’s been so interested in our dates?

Suddenly, the pieces slide into place. Dirk set the whole thing up. I think back to that first drink in the Cock’n Bull. It wasn’t coincidence that Rex was there; Dirk arranged it. I remember the sense I had at the time that there was some subtext between them. It’s obvious what that was now. Dirk was lining clueless Audrey up to be Rex’s latest date.

Why me? Had they run out of starlets? Had the word got round at the studios that Rex wasn’t interested in girls so it was a waste of time? I recall Dirk prompting me to talk about myself, telling Rex that I taught Sunday School.

I tilt my head back and stare up at the ceiling. They needed someone clean cut. Who better than the daughter of a Methodist minister? It was all to create a picture of me as pure as the driven snow.

The betrayal chokes me. I trusted Dirk. How could he use me like that?

I rest my head back against the sofa cushions and stare up at the ceiling. It’s time to be honest with myself. I wanted the relationship with Rex to work so badly, I’ve not asked myself how I feel. When you strip away the thrill of dating a movie star, going to glitzy restaurants and having my photograph in the paper, what’s left?

Am I heartbroken that this relationship will never go anywhere? Or am I actually a little bit relieved to know it’s not me that’s wrong? I’ve not failed. The passion isn’t there. It could never be there between Rex and me. He doesn’t like me in that way and never will. It’s not that I’ve failed to entice him, that I’ve not pretty enough to make him fall at my feet.

Somewhere inside, I’ve known we weren’t working. That’s why I was so confused over the holidays, why I asked myself why there wasn’t any fire between us. I enjoy spending time with Rex. He can be entertaining and funny but he doesn’t make my heart beat faster.

Unlike Jack. Which is mortifying because he knew. I never want to hear him say, ‘Oh, Audrey’ like that again. Damn him with his grey eyes that see too much. I don’t want to be seen. I want to hide away from everyone and everything because clearly I am too much of a dreamer to be safe out in the world on my own. Father was right. And Freddie. Because I have been na?ve. Painfully, idiotically na?ve.

I will never trust anyone ever again. Not Rex, not any man. And most definitely not Jack.

I hear Jack say, ‘Why is that so difficult to understand?’ and it breaks my heart because I can never tell him. Never, ever, ever. He cannot know that my parents threw me out and I ran away to London after a man who cared nothing for me. He cannot know about the terrors of my childhood and the fear of Father’s rages. No one in Hollywood knows about that. No one ever will.

I can’t see Rex again. I can tell people I ended it because he didn’t show up for the exhibition. Only Jack, with his sad, grey eyes, will know the truth. But I never have to see Jack again. I can hide the enormity of my mistake from everyone but him.

And then there’s Dirk. I am going to give him a piece of my mind on Monday morning! I’m half tempted to walk out and then he can…

Except I can’t. Blast! I’ve got my interview with the INS coming up. I have to have a job. If I’m not working, I’m not meeting the terms of my visa and they can send me home. However much I want to throw in the towel with Dirk, I can’t. Not yet.

It’s a terrible, unholy mess and it’s almost entirely of my making. If I hadn’t been such a dreamer. If I’d listened to my instincts instead of ignoring them then I wouldn’t have needed Jack to tell me.

My head sinks into my hands. Why did he have to be caught up with all of this?

I like Jack. But I can never see him again. I couldn’t bear the pity in his eyes.

* * *

I get up late, feeling dazed and lightheaded. The sheer weight of everything that hit me yesterday sits like a rock on my chest. I can’t face anyone today. I need to be on my own until I’ve figured out what I’m going to do.

I open the curtains to find it’s raining. Puddles dot the pavement. The leaves of the tea tree are tossed by the wind and the sky is murky grey.

Because in the overcast light of morning, doing nothing doesn’t seem like an unreasonable plan. No one needs to know I’ve worked out Rex’s secret. I could let things continue as they are for now. Obviously, Rex will grow tired of me in the end… Perhaps he already has and that’s why he didn’t come last night? If that’s the case, then all I have to do is look heartbroken, which won’t be difficult, and wait until I’ve seen the INS and got my visa renewed before telling Dirk I don’t appreciate him keeping secrets from me and he can find another secretary to make his blasted coffee.

If the INS do renew it. I still live in fear that they’ll know about Freddie and I’ll be kicked out as a Communist sympathiser.

Only a few short days ago, I thought life was on the up and up. How did it all go wrong so fast?

There’s only one place to go when I feel this bad. The Four Star Movie Theatre on Wilshire Boulevard is my nearest cinema. The late-morning showing is Broadway Nights , one of the Dinah Doyle and Aidan Neil musicals. I settle into the seat, breathe deeply of the scent of popcorn and block out the swarm of bobbysoxers chattering in the seats behind me. When the house lights go down, the darkness is like a gentle hug.

The film is a delightful concoction. Dinah Doyle tap dances so fast, you wonder why her feet aren’t on fire. Aidan Neil sings with his wonderful baritone voice and together, they’re a joy. Two people having the best time up on the screen for us all to enjoy.

It’s exactly what I need. My troubles haven’t tap danced out of the door but my head feels clearer as I step out into the grey and rainy afternoon. My stomach rumbles. I’ve not eaten since yesterday lunchtime and maybe food will make the world feel like a better place.

There’s a diner further down the block. As I step through the door, the place smells of frying onions and vinegar. The jukebox is playing ‘Come On-a My House’ by Rosemary Clooney which is far too perky for my state of mind.

I take a seat in a red leather booth and order a strawberry milkshake and club sandwich. Out of my handbag, I pull this month’s Screenland . As I wait for my order, I flip through it listlessly, wondering which stories, if any, are true.

* * *

When I get back to my flat, there’s a note pinned to the door in Dirk’s handwriting. It reads:

Audrey,

Ring me when you get this. It’s urgent.

Dirk.

I stare at it for a long moment after I’ve unpinned it. What on earth could be so bad Dirk drove across town to leave me a note? I do not need this today. Not when I’m furious with him for lying to me.

But is it about Rex? Has something happened to him? My breath hitches as ghastly pictures form in my head. Did he have an accident yesterday as he drove across town to the Biltmore? Is he now in hospital? My mind supplies a picture of Rex in bandages with a broken leg in plaster.

Heart pounding, I dash downstairs to the telephone in the entrance hall. I dial Dirk’s home number and get Lillian. ‘He said you might call,’ she tells me. ‘He’s at Rex’s. Ring him there.’

‘Is Rex all right?’ I ask, my voice high-pitched with anxiety.

‘Far as I know. Sorry, Audrey. Dirk didn’t tell me anything else.’

The image of Rex in a hospital bed evaporates but panic is still like rocket fuel in my veins. I blow out a long breath. I’m not ready to speak to Rex. Yet I have to find out what’s going on.

A female voice answers. Trudie, his maid. ‘May I speak to Mr Stone?’ I ask.

‘Of course, ma’am.’ As I hear her footsteps walk away, I picture her in the enormous hall of Rex’s house. Seconds later, rapid footsteps approach.

‘Audrey?’ Dirk says. ‘About time. We need you here.’

‘What? Why?’ My voice rises as dread floods through me. ‘Is Rex all right?’

‘Something’s happened.’ Dirk lowers his voice. ‘Rex is fine. But I need you to get over here,’ Dirk adds, his tone insistent. ‘I can’t talk about it on the horn.’

My hand tightens on the receiver. What on earth has happened? Is he worried the Feds are tapping Rex’s line? Is that what’s got him in a lather? Or has someone found out Rex’s secret and that’s what he can’t discuss on the telephone?

Then another thought hits me and my head drops. Is it Dirk who wants me there as his secretary or has Rex requested that I come? Before I drive across town, I need to know.

‘Has Rex asked for me?’ If the answer to that is yes then maybe I mean something to him, even if it’s only friendship.

‘Yes, he needs you.’ Dirk blows out a long breath. ‘Look, kid, he’s distraught. I’ll explain it all when you get here.’

My spine straightens as Dirk says, ‘needs you’. Whatever the unruly confusion of my emotions, I won’t let Rex down. I’ve carried the regret of failing Freddie. I won’t make the same mistake with Rex.

‘All right,’ I say. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’