Camellia (63 page)

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Authors: Lesley Pearse

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BOOK: Camellia
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'My fans are very precious to me,' she replied softly. 'There have been times in my life when without their affection and support I might have cracked up.'

'Ruth was one of your fans,' Magnus said, smiling at the memory. 'I think she saw
Soho
about four times. She recognised you from the night at the Savoy and she was thrilled you made it. Sometimes I wonder if it was your influence which started Nick on the idea of becoming an actor. He and Ruth used to cut out your pictures and stick them in a scrapbook. I always wished I could admit I'd once known you pretty well.'

'Did Ruth ever find out about Bonny?' Helena asked.

A cloud passed over Magnus's face. 'Not who she was, but she knew there was someone,' he said sadly. 'She didn't tell me right until the end. But that was the way Ruth was. Her family's happiness and mine were always more important to her than her own feelings. I miss her so much, Helena.'

Helena squeezed his hand in silent sympathy.

'Tell me about you,' Magnus said in a gruff voice. 'Why didn't you ever marry? Didn't a big enough love come along?'

'A huge one, over before I even met you,' she said glumly. 'The first, the greatest and the only real one. His name was Charley King, the fireman who dug my Aunt Marleen out of the bombed block of flats. I had lost my home, and Marleen was blinded and had her back broken. He took me home to his mother's house in King's Cross.'

'So what went wrong?'

She let out a big sigh. 'I wanted fame and fortune, he wanted marriage and children. Maybe I was too young, too selfish and headstrong, I don't know exactly now. But I do know that if I could start all over again, I'd marry him, have half a dozen kids and settle for sweet ordinariness.'

'What happened to him?'

'He went to Australia. I kept in touch with his mother for some time, but not after she joined him and his wife and family out there. I often wonder if he's seen my films, and whether he ever forgave me. I hope he's happy, he deserved to be.'

The way she said that took Magnus right back to 1947 when he so often took both Bonny and Helena out to supper after their show. In those days she was just Ellie, the quieter one of the double act. He had been impressed then by her compassionate nature, and it pleased him to think she hadn't lost that quality on the road to becoming famous. But she had been such a joyous young girl, full of fun and laughter. She so richly deserved her success, but it saddened him to see that she hadn't been happier.

'What went wrong in your life?' Magnus asked. 'Can't you tell an old friend about it?'

She hesitated for a moment and he half expected her to clam up as she had the previous night. 'I should never have allowed myself to be talked into going to Hollywood,' she blurted out. 'I should have stayed in England and made more films like
Soho.
But I let myself be manipulated because I'd lost sight of my real goals. By the time I woke up to what was happening, it was too late. I let them trap me into a contract I couldn't get out of and I made one after another of those banal musicals.' She paused and he saw her eyes were full of bitterness.

'Go on,' he prompted.

'The moguls over there don't care about talent or art,' she spat out. 'When they find a formula that brings in money, they squeeze it to the last drop. They wouldn't let me grow as an actress, they stunted me. When the last film was a flop they blamed me, not themselves, and I was forced into retirement because they said I was too temperamental.'

'When you've finished this film will you stay in England or go back?'

'I thought I had no choice in the matter until this morning,' she said thoughtfully, her smooth brow crinkled by a frown. 'I thought I was too deeply rooted in America to transplant myself back here.'

'But now?'

'What I thought were roots look more like mere possessions today,' she grimaced. 'And I have no real friends – only a psychiatrist who I have to pay to talk to.'

'You have a psychiatrist? What on earth for?'

She looked at Magnus, with a trace of suspicion.

'You're in England now,' he reminded her. "There's no journalist hiding behind the trees with microphones, and I don't pass on privileged information.'

'As the Yanks like to say, "I'm pretty screwed up", Magnus. I've been hiding behind costumes and pills for years. When you said I was an alcoholic you were wrong, drink hasn't been my problem. I was put off that by my Aunt Marleen. But I have suffered from chronic depression. When I was offered this part, I was feeling very low. I'd lost my confidence, even the sense of
who
I was. But I managed to recognise it as a possible life raft. When your letter came, that, my old friend, was like finding a dry blanket in the raft and a gallon of fresh water.'

'And I almost overturned the raft?'

She tucked her arm through his and smiled. 'My psychiatrist said I would be tested when I came back here. Maybe if you hadn't come in last night when you did, I might have slipped back. It's rather ironic isn't it? I've paid fortunes to doctors and shrinks over the years, dredged through old painful memories with strangers, all to no avail. But a few probing questions from an old pal, followed by a hug, achieved a great deal more than all that expensive therapy.'

'Are you serious that you have no one back in America?' It seemed incredible that a woman as lovely as Helena should be so alone. 'Not even a man friend.'

'Well, there's Edward,' she said. 'I don't know if you remember but he was a friend right back from

1945.'

Magnus nodded.

'He's coming over soon to join me.'

Magnus felt himself stiffen, to his surprise he realised he was a little jealous. 'He's in the film too?' he asked.

Perhaps Helena heard the starch in his voice. She smiled. 'No, he isn't, and we aren't lovers, Magnus.'

'It's none of my business if you are,' he retorted quickly. 'I just hope you'll have room for me as a friend too.'

Julie came back at that point loaded down with a large wicker basket and a folded picnic table and their conversation was halted temporarily.

'That, as Edward would say, was "topping",' Helena said half an hour later as she slumped back in the swing seat holding her stomach and grinning broadly. 'I've never had a picnic like that one before.'

To Magnus it was nothing outstanding. Just crusty bread, chicken, ham, cheeses and salad. 'You must have had better than that,' he said disbelievingly.

'Americans aren't picnic people,' she said. 'They go for lavish barbecues and stuff, but they somehow miss the point of picnics, which should be taking quite ordinary food somewhere extraordinary to eat it. My mother and I used to go to Victoria Park in Bethnal Green for picnics. We'd have bread and dripping in waxed paper, an apple each and a bottle of ginger beer, and that was a real feast.'

Magnus knew exactly what she meant. He could remember sharing equally basic food in the woods around Craigmore with some of the other children who lived on the family estate. The fancy picnics he remembered going on with his parents and their friends were never as much fun.

'So does Edward like bread and dripping picnics too?' he asked.

'Actually he doesn't,' she said. 'In fact he finds it very irritating that I have such love for "common" things, particularly British common things.'

'He sounds a bit of a snob.'

She sighed. 'Oh Magnus, he is. I love him like a brother, we've been through so much together, and I've got everything to thank him for, but there are times when I wish I could walk away from him for good.'

'Then why is he coming here to join you?'

'Because he controls me, Magnus,' she said in a small voice. 'I feel guilty about telling you this. It makes me sound so disloyal when I've already said what a good friend he is. But I'm afraid it's true, and I'm too spineless to put a stop to it.'

'You were never spineless,' Magnus said stoutly. 'From what Bonny had to say about this man, years ago, he wasn't great shakes as an actor and he was only a passable pianist. But then she was a bit jealous. So how come he got in a position to control you?'

'I met Edward even before I met Bonny,' she said. 'We were partnered together in a comic sketch for the revue at the Phoenix. Bonny was one of the Dingle Belles. He was a few years older than me, a very correct, starchy young man and as it turned out, a very lonely one too. My friendship with Bonny began on VE Day when we got into some mischief together with a couple of GIs, but Edward and I were already firm friends.' She paused for a moment as if thinking how to explain.

'Bonny and I were a case of opposites attracting, but Edward and I were more like twin souls in many ways. Like me he had no family, aside from a very old grandmother. We were both unsure of ourselves and we both loved the theatre passionately. Bonny provided all the excitement of a fun fair, Edward was the soothing voice of calm and reason. I loved them both.

'Over the years I spent performing with Bonny, my friendship with her tended to dominate, just because of the way she was, but Edward was always there. Even when he was miles away in another town, I still kept in touch. I knew Bonny inside out, but I knew Edward too, and often he was the one I ran to when Bonny let me down. After Bonny got married and I made
Soho,
Edward and I became even closer. When I finally found myself in Hollywood in 1951, everything was so alien. People fawned round me, I couldn't make out who were good people and who were just using me. I needed someone I could trust implicitly and so I asked Edward to join me there.'

Magnus nodded. He could quite understand the old Ellie giving an old friend a leg-up, but he still found it hard to imagine her being under anyone's control.

'Well, once Edward arrived, I felt so much better. He soon became the buffer between me, the studio and the press. He was so good at organisation, and he helped me get a house, staff who could be trusted and how to handle my money. I introduced him to everyone as my manager, because that's exactly what he did, he managed me.'

'Did you pay him?' Magnus asked.

She didn't speak for a moment, but tucked her hand into his arm companionably. 'Maybe that was the first mistake. I should've had it on a proper business footing right from the start and drawn up lines of conduct. But that's hard to do with a good friend, isn't it? Edward had a private income you see, from his grandmother, so he didn't actually need a job as such. Of course I reimbursed him for all expenses and he had his own apartment in my house. He also had small parts in films sometimes, usually when they wanted an archetype English gentleman. As I've said, he handled my money for me, he paid the bills and acted as secretary and everything else. If that included a car for him or a new suit, that was all part of my expenses.'

Magnus shook his head slowly. 'That sounds like a recipe for disaster.'

'Not in the way you mean,' she corrected him. 'Edward accounted for every penny, spent by him and by me. Without him looking after my money for me I would probably have spent everything as fast as I earned it. He invested it for me and very wisely too. But what I didn't see coming was the danger of allowing myself to become so dependent on him. You see I had no decisions to make. I got up in the morning and my clothes for the day were laid out by the maid, instructed by him. The car arrived to take me to the studio, at the end of the day's shooting it took me home. Edward would decide which engagement to accept for me that night, he'd even advise the maid again what I should wear. More often man not Edward escorted me to these parties or functions. Hairdressing, manicures, massages, Edward arranged all that. His taste was impeccable. Before long he even shopped for clothes with me, or for me.'

'That sounds monstrous,' Magnus exclaimed.

'It does telling you now, while I'm sitting here as free as a bird and looking back on it,' she said with a funny little smirk. 'But at the time I was very glad of it. Each day's shooting was exhausting, and I was frightened by all the high-powered people around me. Edward made it possible for me to give my best each day without any worries. I didn't know then what I should wear to these dinner and cocktail parties, I was just glad he did.'

'Didn't he have any lady friends?'

She didn't answer immediately and Magnus repeated the question, remembering that Bonny had always claimed he was homosexual.

'Yes, but never what you'd call romances,' she said warily. 'I mean he went out to meet women from time to time, but he never brought them home. He had always been a bit odd about women, Magnus. I think I'm the only one he ever really liked.'

Magnus nodded. It sounded to him as if Bonny had been right. He didn't like the sound of him one bit.

'So at what stage did you become depressed, and why?' Magnus thought it better to change the subject, even if it was still painful.

She looked thoughtful.

'I used to have panic attacks right back while I was making
Soho,'
she said. 'But I was on home ground then, surrounded by people who had my best interests at heart. But when I got to Hollywood they got far worse. I felt cut off, frightened; kind of intimidated by everything. I saw a doctor who gave me some tranquillisers, but though they helped me calm down, I sometimes felt I was losing touch with reality.'

Magnus was beginning to get the picture: a beautiful talented young woman thrown into an artificial world peopled by hyenas and sharks who preyed on her vulnerability. 'But if Edward cared about you, didn't he try to get you sorted out?'

She nodded. 'Oh yes, he tried. He took me to classes to learn relaxation exercises. He gradually weaned me off the pills and even encouraged me to have a drink rather than rely on tranquillisers. For a time I was much better, I was eating and sleeping well, but the downside was that I started to put on weight and the studio didn't like it. Finally, in 1961, I found a doctor to prescribe me some dieting pills and they worked. I drank only orange juice, I lost the weight, I felt on top of the world again for awhile, but they were addictive, Magnus. Soon one a day wasn't enough, it was three, four, six or even ten and I was so hyped up I couldn't sleep at night. Before long I was taking barbiturates to sleep, and something else to wake me up the next day. Edward would have stopped me had he realised what I was doing, but he didn't until it was too late.'

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