Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool (8 page)

More important to her than being feted by the glitterati and press, she was immediately asked to appear in
A Tribute to Lili Lamont
at the New End Theatre in London, and was offered a
part in a television play with Jim Dale and another with Joseph Cotton. The attention she was getting in England obviously reverberated across the Atlantic: she was approached about appearing in a
well-known soap opera and was offered an exciting cameo role in a film called
Head Over Heels
.

Gloria was amused by the roles being offered to her, which ranged from glamorous mistresses to fairy-tale wicked witches and quirky, sexy mothers-in-law.

Gloria and I had now known each other for about three months. We started spending more and more time together, either having meals in her rooms or taking late night walks through London. Mostly
we’d end up by the Thames and would walk along the Embankment. She loved to hear me talk about Liverpool. She was fascinated by the place and determined to visit it as soon as she could.
Liverpool, to Gloria, held the same fascination as Hollywood did for me. While I’d be wanting her to tell me stories about the movies, she’d be wanting me to tell her stories about my
family;

‘When did your sister Bella marry Jimmy?’

‘Bella married Arthur. It was Mary who married Jimmy.’

‘I thought Maisie got him.’

‘She did, but that was a different Jimmy.’

‘Tell me again how John met Rose?’

‘He was staying the weekend with Joe and Jessie and she was the girl next door.’

‘. . . and they’ve been married ever since?’

‘Yes, they’ve got six kids.’

‘They must all be so in love. Liverpool sounds heaven.’

When I told her that my sister Eileen was married to an Arab and now lived in Baghdad, she nearly fainted on the spot.

‘Oh, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.’

I wasn’t sure if Eileen would quite agree.

‘. . . and tell me more about
you.
I wanna hear all about Betty.’

‘I was only five or six,’ I pleaded. ‘Betty was just a kid from across the street.’

‘Well why did you call her Boo Boo?’

The questions went on and on. Gloria was obsessed. She loved me to tell her stories; about my mother in the war, about my father making toys out of old bits of wood to give to us all at
Christmas. She could make me recount to her adventures of childhood summer holidays spent on the beach at New Brighton, of the fun whole families had following Bessie Braddock around the streets of
Toxteth in the late fifties, carrying ‘Vote Labour’ placards. Gloria loathed right wing politics and politicians.

‘I can’t stand the sight of Ronnie Reagan,’ she said. ‘I’d like to stick my Oscar up his arse!’

One day she received an invitation to visit a London film school to sit through a screening of one of her films.

‘Why don’t you come with me, Peter?’ she asked. ‘It’s
Human Desire
.’

‘I’d love to,’ I said. ‘I haven’t seen it before.’

At the end of the screening she was asked to answer questions for the students. I could see that she was uneasy. An eager-looking student stood up to pose his question. As an actress who had
worked with directors like Fritz Lang, Dmytryk, Minnelli And De Mille, he asked, in her considered opinion, what was the difference between a good director and a bad director? Gloria’s face
turned white.

‘Well,’ she said after a long silence and a lot of dubious looks. ‘I guess a good director’s a good director and a bad director’s a bad one.’

She laughed along with everyone else, and the rest of the session was a success.

Walking home later that afternoon, Gloria became unusually quiet.

‘Hey, Peter. Can I ask you something?’ she said, as we were halfway along Prince Albert Road. ‘How do I join the Royal Shakespeare Company? I wanna play Juliet.’

‘Don’t be soft,’ I said. ‘You’d be better off playing the nurse.’

I thought I knew her well enough to make a silly joke, but it backfired. Gloria was furious.

‘Dammit!’ she shouted. ‘How do I join the Royal Shakespeare Company? I wanna see if they think I can play those parts.’

‘Well maybe you could join the RSC,’ I said, trying to placate her. ‘It’s a good idea, but I don’t think that you’d be quite right to play Juliet.
That’s all I mean.’

We’d just reached the entrance to the zoo when she turned on me.

‘That’s what it is, isn’t it, Peter? Now I know why you don’t like me. You just think that I’m too old. That’s why you don’t want to get real close. You
think that I’m just an old lady. Well you’re wrong. I’m gonna go to that theatre right now and I’m gonna see one of their shows. I have to take a look at the
competition!’

Gloria stormed off and hailed a taxi.

Suddenly it dawned upon me why she was so mad. Gloria didn’t really think that she could actually play Juliet. It was just her crazy way of trying to find out if I was sexually attracted
to her.

Of course I was. The attraction was undeniable. Since the day she’d borrowed my shirt there had been many occasions when our friendship could have become closer, but I was wary of becoming
involved. Gloria was a Hollywood star, she’d been married four times, and she was more than twenty years older than me. I went back home to think.

It was late. I was sitting reading when I heard footsteps running up to my room.

‘Guess where I’ve been, Peter?’ Gloria burst through the door with a triumphant look all over her face.

‘The Royal Shakespeare Company,’ I confidently replied.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘I sat next to some dame in the theatre who told me that she’d played Juliet at the Royal Shakespeare Company. She’d played lots of parts there.
What’s more, she’s a hell of a lot older than me.’

‘Who was that?’ I asked.

‘Peggy Ashcroft,’ she announced.

We collapsed in a heap of laughter on my bed.

She spent the night in my room. From then on we were inseparable.

‘You’re wanted on the phone! It’s your cousin. It’s Eileen Connolly.’

I woke up instantly. One eye opened but the other was stuck.

Eileen had a peculiar knack of ‘being there’ at very crucial times. It was she who, when I was thirteen years old, taught me how to smoke. Then six months later she told me about
sex. She’d been my bringer of knowledge, my confidante and confessor. Her sudden appearances usually heralded a major change in my life.

‘Where is she?’

‘She’s on the phone,’ Jessie replied.

‘No.
Where
is she? Tell her I’ll call her back.’

‘You can’t. She says she wants you
now
.’

I pulled on a pair of jeans, then stumbled along the landing. As I looked down the staircase to Gloria’s room I could see that the door was firmly shut, so I went into the sitting room and
picked up the receiver.

‘What are you doing in bed at this hour? It’s nearly twelve o’clock.’

‘I didn’t realize. How are you?’

‘Great. But listen, how are you? Jessie’s just told me Gloria isn’t well and that she’s there with you in the house. Is that right?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘You know, it’s really strange, Pete, but I’ve been thinking about her all week. Honest. I have. Now isn’t that weird?’

‘Yes, that’s strange.’

‘I’ve even had those photographs developed. Do you remember? The ones we took in New York. Oh, there’s a lovely one of you and Gloria standing by the window in her flat, and
there’s a smashing one of me holding her Oscar. Everyone says I look like Jane Fonda, but me mother thinks I look more like Henry. All the girls at work want to have it blown up to stick
behind the bar. Only for a laugh. Don’t you think that’s funny?’

‘Eileen, I’m not properly awake. Can I call you back? I haven’t yet been in to see Gloria.’

‘Hang on a minute, Pete. You can’t go in to see Gloria because the doctor’s there with her. He’s giving her an examination. Him and your mother are attending to her right
now. Well, that’s what Jessie just told me. What’s the matter with her? Is it something serious?’

‘I’ll have to phone you back. I’ll have to see what’s happening.’

‘You’ll have to calm down. What you need is a break. You need to get out of that house for a while. Listen, I’m working tonight at the Belgrave Club. Why don’t you get
yourself down there after your play and we’ll be able to have a drink and a talk? That’s what you need.’

‘Okay, I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Peter,’ Jessie whispered from the bottom of the stairs as I was about to go into the middle room. ‘Don’t go in there. Not just yet. The doctor
doesn’t want to be disturbed. Come down. I’ve made a pot of tea.’

Reluctantly I followed Jessie to the kitchen.

‘What’s going on? What’s happened to Gloria? Why didn’t you wake me up?’

‘Nothing’s happened. Everything’s still the same.’ Jessie pulled up the flaps of a carton of milk, only from the wrong end. ‘Oh look what I’ve gone and
done,’ she said and wiped away the splash. ‘It’s just that the doctor came round again to visit Gloria and we didn’t think to wake you. Anyway, we thought you needed the
sleep.’

‘How long has he been here?’ I asked.

‘Oh, not long. It can’t be more than half an hour. Don’t be so agitated. Sit down and have a drink of tea.’

I sat on the edge of a chair and leant my elbows on the table.

‘Oh, I forgot,’ Jessie said. ‘You like a mug, don’t you? I’ve gone and poured a cup.’

‘That doesn’t matter, I don’t care what I have.’

The electric bulb, hanging from the ceiling in a plastic shade, threw out a dull white light. Carrier bags stuffed with sheets and towels, and a bundle of clothes on the floor in the corner,
were waiting to go to the launderette. The sink was piled with dishes, mostly cups and saucers, needing to be washed. The room looked miserable, I thought.

‘Everything’s a bit of a mess,’ I said.

‘Now, eh.’ Jessie pointed at me with a spoon. ‘I’ve been awake all night and your mother’s been up since five. Joe hasn’t slept much either but he’s had
to go and see how things are at work. We’re all a bit tired to say the least. Anyway, you look a bit of a mess yourself. If I was you I’d have a bath.’

‘You’re right. I think that’s what I’ll do.’

Jessie was standing with her coat on when I returned from taking my bath. My mother was sitting with her head down, one hand holding her forehead, the other clutching an
airmail letter. Their conversation faded as I entered the room.

‘It’ll be all right.’ I heard Jessie murmur. Then she turned to me and said, ‘Your mother’s got word from Billy in Australia. It’s about the final
arrangements.’

‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ I smiled across at my mother. ‘At last you’re definitely going.’

‘I’m saying nothing,’ my mother announced and put the letter behind the clock. ‘Not until everything’s been sorted out in this house. I’ve waited sixteen
years to go on this holiday! I’ve waited sixteen years to see my son! All this has put the mockers on the lot. Now I won’t be going anywhere.’

‘Of course you will. Gloria’s sister will be getting here soon. She’ll help to work things out.’

‘Let’s see her get here first. If it was my sister I would have been here from the start.’

She started sorting through the bundle of clothes on the floor, separating the coloureds into a black plastic bag.

‘The doctor’s just gone. We couldn’t call you because you were in the bath.’ Jessie attempted to change the subject. ‘But he’s coming back later
today.’

‘What did he have to say?’ I asked.

‘I’ll tell you what he had to say.’ My mother stood up and dropped the black plastic bag to the floor. Surrounded by dirty clothes, she stood indomitable in the centre of the
room. ‘He’s never known anything like it in his life! Hollywood’s got nothing on this,’ she cried and threw her hands in the air. ‘I feel as though I’m living in
a picture – and I’ve got the lousy part.’ She hauled up the black plastic bag with one arm and started up the steps to the hall. ‘I’m going round to the washhouse.
I’ve had enough of this place for today.’

‘I’ll follow you on,’ Jessie said. ‘I’ll bring the other bags.’

‘Will you do something for me, Son?’ My mother paused at the top of the steps and looked me clear in the eye. ‘I want you to phone Billy and tell him I won’t be
coming.’

‘I think that you were right, Peter,’ Jessie said as my mother left the house. ‘This is a terrible mess. You’d better phone Gloria’s sister in
California to find out when she’ll arrive.’

‘It’s early morning there. Anyway, she’s promised to call me back.’

‘What’s wrong with you? Worrying about waking people up, while we’re all going demented.’ She picked up the rest of the washing. ‘And I don’t think you should
go up to Gloria because she needs to be left alone. The doctor says she needs to be kept quiet and not get too excited. She’s losing all her body fluids. There’s nothing you can
do.’

Jessie followed after my mother, leaving me alone.

The most practical thing I could do for the moment, I thought, was to wash the dirty dishes. So I started with the cups. While my hands were immersed in hot water and my head was bent over the
sink, I sensed that someone was looking at me. I peered out of the window across towards the tree and saw my father in the garden, halfway along the cement path he’d laid, and with one arm
holding on to the washing line which my mother had strung above it. He stood there motionless, staring, watching me watching him.

‘What are you doing out there?’ I asked as I opened the back door. ‘It’s cold. Why don’t you come inside?’

‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ he replied. ‘I’m just passing away the time.’

Pre-occupied, he didn’t look at me while we spoke. His eyes still focused on the kitchen window.

‘What are you looking at?’

‘Your ma,’ he said. ‘I’m trying to see your ma.’

‘She’s not in here. She’s just gone around to the launderette.’

‘You don’t say.’ He slowly rubbed his hands together as if making a major decision. ‘ ’E’ y’are,’ he said. ‘Come and give me a hand with
this.’

A smile spread across his face and, showing no sign of his seventy-four years, he darted along the path and disappeared around the side of the house.