Page 39 of The Love Letter

‘Right.’ Joanna pressed the record button on the tape recorder once more. ‘In his will, did Sir James specifically ask you to run the memorial fund?’

‘It was left to the family – my father, my sister and myself – to organise the trust. As Sir James’s only grandson, I’m honoured to have been handed the job.’

‘And of course your sister Zoe is so busy with her acting career these days. I was reading the other day she’s playing Tess in a film remake. Are you and your sister close?’

‘Yes. Our childhood was – how can I put this? – varied, so we’ve always clung to each other for security and support.’

‘And you were obviously close to Sir James?’

‘Oh yes –’ Marcus nodded without guile – ‘very.’

‘Do you think being part of such an illustrious family has helped or hindered you? I mean, did it put you under pressure to achieve?’

He paused. ‘On or off the record?’

‘Off, if you’d prefer.’ Having drunk two glasses of wine, Joanna’s resolution to keep the interview professional had crumbled somewhat. She paused her voice recorder.

‘It’s been a bloody burden, to be honest. I know how others might look at me and think,What a lucky sod. But in reality, having famous relatives is difficult. Currently, it’s feeling pretty impossible to outstrip what my father does, let alone my grandfather.’

Joanna noticed Marcus looked suddenly vulnerable, unsure of himself. ‘I can imagine,’ she said softly.

‘Can you?’ He met her gaze. ‘Then you’ll be the first person to do so.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true, Marcus.’

‘As a matter of fact, it is. I mean, on paper, I’m quite a catch, aren’t I? Famous family, well connected, women presume I’m wealthy . . . It’s entirely possible that no woman has ever really liked me for myself,’ he added. ‘I’ve not exactly had the most high-flying career, you know.’

‘What kind of things have you done in the past?’

‘Well, production has always been my favourite aspect of the movie business – the behind-the-scenes machinations, working out how all the various parts fit together, that’s what I’m really into. It’s also something that no one in the family has touched before, a niche I can actually call my own . . . not that any of my films have done well.’ Marcus was surprised he was telling Joanna this, but her warmth elicited confessions.

‘Would I have seen one of them?’ she asked, intrigued.

‘Erm.’ He coloured slightly. ‘RememberNo Way Out? I don’t suppose you do, it went straight to VHS.’

‘Sorry, I haven’t heard of it. What’s it about?’

‘We went to Bolivia, into the Amazon rainforest, to shoot it – the scariest and most amazing time of my life, actually.’ He brightened as he talked, his hands gesturing as he warmed to his subject. ‘It’s a spectacular and untamed place. The film was about two non-indigenous guys from the US who get lost in the depths of the forest as they hunt for a suspected seam of gold. Nature slowly swallows them up as they try to find their way out and they both end up dead. Rather depressing, now that I think about it, but it had a strong moral message about Western greed.’

‘Right. So are you working on something now?’

‘Yes, my production company, Marc One Films, is just trying to gather the funds for a fantastic new script.’ He smiled and Joanna could feel the excitement emanating from him. ‘It’s the most incredible story. When I was travelling in the Amazon, I was lucky enough to meet some of the Yanomami – they’re a tribe that didn’t make contact with the Brazilian government until the forties. Can you imagine being cut off from modern civilisation, and the shock of finding your world is so much bigger than you thought it was?’

‘So a bit more extreme than coming to London from Yorkshire then?’ Joanna said. She felt stupidly gratified that he laughed at her weak joke, and she kicked herself for being so keen.

‘Rather more extreme, yes,’ he continued. ‘They were a very peaceful people – their culture was the ultimate democracy: they didn’t even have chieftains, they made all their decisions by consensus, with everyone getting their say. The plot is about when the Brazilian government – without warning – drove bulldozers through their village to construct a major road.’

‘That’s horrendous! Did they actually do it?’

‘Yes!’ Marcus threw his hands in the air. ‘It’s just disgusting. The film’s also about how, in the past few decades, a huge part of their population has been wiped out by diseases, and about the consequences of deforestation, murderous goldminers . . . It’s also got a beautiful love story, with a tragic but moving end, of course, and . . .’ He trailed off and looked at her sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I know I get really worked up. Zoe always gets bored when I talk to her about it.’

‘Not at all.’ Joanna had been so swept up listening to him that she had almost forgotten her brief. ‘It sounds like an amazing and worthwhile project. I really wish you luck with it. Now, I’d better get some statistics on the memorial fund, or my editor will have my head on a plate. Can you give me the date the applications have to be in by, the address to write to, and that sort of thing?’

Marcus talked for ten minutes, telling Joanna all she needed to know. She rather wished she could interview him about his film project instead, as the memorial material felt stale in comparison.

‘Right. Thanks, Marcus, that was great,’ she said, gathering her notes. ‘Great. Oh, one last thing: we will be needing a photograph of you and Zoe together.’

‘Zoe’s in Norfolk on location. She’s there for ages.’ Marcus’s eyes glinted. ‘I know I’m not as famous or pretty as my sister, but you’ll just have to make do with me.’