Dreaming Out Loud (23 page)

‘Surely not. She would love being in Hollywood, and just think of the life I could give her.’

‘I am thinking. And I’ve read the stories in the movie magazines about children of the stars and the trouble they get up to because their parents think that all they need to do is spoil them with more money than is good for them, when what they want – what they need – is more time with their parents.’

‘But Kay would have Jack. He would make sure she wasn’t spoiled. He would look after her.’

‘And look after you, too, I suppose? What would that do to his pride?’

‘Oh, but he might find work there. Even become a movie star himself. He’s handsome, he can act. He can sing and dance. I’m sure he’d be perfect in musical films.’

‘And then who would look after Kay?’ Moira sipped her tea and looked up to find Lana staring at her balefully.

‘Sometimes I hate you,’ she said.

Moira smiled wryly. ‘Why? Because I tell you things you’re intelligent enough to work out for yoursel
f
?’

Lana stared at her for a moment and then took a deep breath, leaned back in her chair and breathed out slowly.

‘Watch out!’ Moira said. ‘You’re going to spill what’s left of your tea.’

Lana opened her eyes and shook her head. ‘No, I’m not, and you’re going to pour me another cup and then tell me why you think Jack is selfish, too.’

Moira filled Lana’s cup, gave it to her, then pulled her chair over to the other side of the hearth. She knelt down, took a shovelful of coal from the scuttle and built up the fire. When she was settled she said, ‘Jack is being selfish because I think he was trying to make you feel guilty about going to Hollywood.’

‘How so? He said I deserved the success. He congratulated me.’

‘Then he put the phone down and wouldn’t answer when you called back.’

‘Yes, you’re right. The beast!’

‘Also, when you started your affair, you knew very well that Jack was a married man. And married men don’t always keep their promises.’

Lana groaned.

‘He must have known of your ambitions and yet he made you pregnant.’

Lana’s laugh was bitter. ‘Well, that was my fault, too. And he offered to look after us, you know. Me and the child.’

‘How? Was he going to hide you away in some little backstreet house and come and visit you only when he could get away from his real family?’

‘Don’t say that!’

‘Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?’

‘Right again!’ Lana stared into the fire moodily. ‘But there’s something you should know.’

‘What is it?’

‘Never once did Jack mention abortion. And if he had I wouldn’t have considered it.’

Moira looked at her and smiled gently. ‘Yes, I believe you. And if you hadn’t had Kay, the two of you might have parted as soon as you got the offer from Monty. You might have been sad for a while – and so might he – but you went ahead and had the baby; the baby you both love. I know you love her, even though you were willing to give her to Jack’s wife to bring up.’

Lana looked defensive. ‘I did that because in the circumstances I was convinced that my daughter would have a better life. A proper home with a good woman and her own father instead of being hidden away in some little backstreet, as you put it.’

‘That sounds very noble, Lana, but it also meant that you could carry on with your life in show business, didn’t it?’

Lana stared at Moira unbelievingly. ‘You really have got it in for me tonight, haven’t you?’

‘I’m sorry if I sound cruel. You’re talented and spirited and generous and kind, and I consider myself the luckiest woman in the world to have you as my friend. And it’s because we’re friends that I want to tell you something that you may not have considered.’

‘What’s that?’

‘First of all, I’d be inhuman if I didn’t feel sorry for you – and Jack – because I don’t believe you had a shady little affair.’

‘Thanks!’

‘I believe you truly loved each other.’

‘And still do,’ Lana said vehemently.

‘But have you ever considered that you weren’t free to do so?’

‘Of course I have! Is that what you wanted to tell me?’

‘No, I wanted to point out that both you and Jack must never forget that the most important person in this sad little tale is Kay.’

Lana stared at her friend despondently. ‘I know that,’ she said.

‘Leave her, Lana, leave her in peace.’

‘Is it so wrong that I want to see her?’

‘No, but you must consider what’s best for her. She has her father, she has Thelma, who must be a good woman to have agreed to take your daughter, and she has a happy home.’

‘So the deceit must go on?’

‘I believe it must.’

Lana stood up abruptly. ‘It’s late. I’m sorry I’ve kept you. You should get back to your flat.’

Moira took this curt dismissal well and Lana went to bed.
One day
, she thought,
one day I want Kay to know the truth. Somehow I shall bring her to me.

Chapter Twenty-One

1 October 1950

Dear Miss Bennet,

Every time I put the phone down after one of our chats I have felt guilty that I haven’t told you what has been happening. But to tell the truth, I thought I would wake up one morning and find it has all been a dream. Now that I’m certain it isn’t, I can tell you. I’d better explain.

Recently I was given some advice by Julian Fry. I think I told you, Julian is the producer of
Mulberry Court
. As the show only goes out once a week, I have been able to take on other engagements, and often Julian has found these for me. Do you remember the piece I did for
Woman’s Hour,
when I and another actress pretended to be housewives advising each other how to plan the weekly shopping and how to make best use of your ration book? Well, having worked in a grocery shop for years, I was able to make a few suggestions – much to the scriptwriter’s annoyance! However, the producer was pleased, and that led to my doing a recipe spot now and then. Me, giving cooking advice? Hilarious! But the producer said I sounded like an experienced housewife. How could she know it was all an act?

By now Julian said I ought to have an agent, who would not only find work but would also negotiate my fees. Julian suggested I approach Hilton Gray, a well-known agent who has a good reputation. He said I would have to have an audition, and he helped me get some pieces prepared. I won’t bore you with the details. I’ll only tell you that I now have an agent to represent me. As far as the audition was concerned, Mr Gray told me to forget it. He’d heard me in
Mulberry Court
and he said if I hadn’t come to him he would have asked Julian to introduce us.

All this is exciting enough, but it’s not the reason I’m writing to you. Mr Gray is quite old but he is very energetic. Like Julian, he dresses in a rather flamboyant way and he has an encyclopaedic knowledge of show business. He does very well for his clients. Not very long after he had taken me on, he called me to his office and said he had the perfect part for me, but he wouldn’t say any more over the phone.

I had no idea why he was being so secretive. As I set out for his office in Oxford Street, I felt I was a character in a spy story. When, eventually, I was sitting facing him across his impressive antique desk, he looked so solemn that I thought I must have misheard him on the phone, and that he was going to tell me that he didn’t want to represent me after all.

‘I’ve got a great part for you,’ he said at last. ‘In a film.’

The world stood still, as they say.

‘It’s the second lead,’ he continued. ‘And it’s perfect for you.’ He paused and, looking a little vexed, he said, ‘Why aren’t you thrilled? Most young actresses would be.’

‘Haven’t you noticed that I limp quite badly?’ I asked him.

‘Of course I have,’ he said, ‘but in this case it doesn’t matter.’

I stared at him for a moment, and then I’m afraid I said, ‘Oh, I see, I’m to play the part of a cripple!’

‘Yes, you are,’ he said, quite brutally. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

‘Are you ashamed of having a limp?’ he asked.

‘Of course not!’ I replied.

‘So?’

‘So what?’ I knew I was being rude and I honestly didn’t know why I was so upset. But Mr Gray did.

‘You’ve had much success on the radio,’ he said. ‘But despite your talent, nobody from the theatrical world has approached you.’

‘I didn’t expect them to,’ I said. ‘After all, no one would accept a heroine who limps across the stage.’

‘You’re right,’ Mr Gray said, ‘but that would depend on the character, wouldn’t it?’

He sounded so matter-of-fact that I began to calm down. I actually managed to smile when I said, ‘I don’t think there are many parts written for leading ladies who limp.’

‘There aren’t, although there may be some for minor characters.’

I stared at him.

‘Go on, say it,’ he said. ‘There’s no harm in valuing yourself.’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

‘You’re much too talented to play a minor character, unless it was a cameo appearance, of course.’

‘I’m hardly well known enough yet to play a cameo role,’ I said.

Mr Gray smiled. ‘I notice you used the word
yet
.’

I was embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry. Did I sound conceited?’

His smile broadened, ‘It’s not a crime to be confident of your talent, Kay. And I suspect that underneath that cool, rather reserved exterior you are as ambitious as your godmother was.’

‘If you mean Lana Fontaine, how did you know she was my godmother?’

‘Julian told me,’ Mr Gray said. ‘But we should get back to work. In the part I have secured for you the character is in a wheelchair. That’s why they had to have someone with a good voice.’

‘No!’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Why not? Are you too proud to play the part of a young woman who cannot walk?’

His words shocked me. ‘Of course not. It’s just that I shouldn’t like to be typecast. I shouldn’t like people to think that I only got the part because I have a limp.’

‘But that wouldn’t be true. You’re perfect for the part because the character is young and determined and beautiful. And if this goes well you will be offered more parts. The cinema is different from the stage, in that the script can cut out walking shots, and I’m sure the director will be only too pleased to have close-ups of your expressive face.’

Do you know, Miss Bennet, I had never considered that I might have an expressive face. Until that moment I had believed that my future was in radio, where it doesn’t matter what you look like and the voice is all important.

So you’ve probably guessed by now that I agreed to take the part. It was hard work fitting in the filming with my radio work, because I don’t want to leave
Mulberry Court.
Shirley said that they could always find another actress to take over the part – every now and then they have to do that in radio serials. Well, all I can say that I’ll have to wait and see. At this stage there are no more film parts lined up. Mr Gray says he’s sure there will be.

What you might not have guessed is that the film is ‘in the can’, as they say. The director’s final ‘cut and print’ echoed round the studio two weeks ago, and
A Dream Of Love
is ready to be shown in cinemas throughout the country.

Shirley and Jane know about this, and so does my friend Tom. And I have written to Julie. But I haven’t told my mother because she doesn’t seem to be interested in anything I do. Whether or not Julie will tell her is up to her.

I hope you will go and see the film, because I’ve saved the best part until last. Guess who is playing a cameo role? Valentine Dyall! I am as much a fan as you are, and I asked him for two autographed photographs. He very kindly obliged. One photograph is for me, of course, and the other is already in the post for you.

I hope you are well.

Yours sincerely,

Kay

That evening, when she guessed Kay would be home from work, Miss Bennet dialled a long-distance number. The phone was answered immediately.

‘Julian, is that you?’

The young woman with the forthright manner was not Kay. Miss Bennet guessed who she was speaking to.

‘Shirley? This is Miss Bennet.’

‘Kay’s friend? I’ll get her for you.’

The young woman, although perfectly courteous, had sounded disappointed, and Miss Bennet wondered whether Julian Fry was more to Shirley than just her boss. She thought she might ask Kay about this, at the risk of being thought a nosy old woman. But not tonight.

‘Miss Bennet? Did you get my letter?’

‘Yes, dear, that’s why I’m calling. I’m glad you wrote and told me all your news, but by the time I got your letter I already knew that you were in a film.’

There was a small silence before Kay replied. ‘How did you know? No, I’ve guessed. It’s in the local paper. It comes out today!’

‘It’s on the entertainments page, just above next week’s listings. There’s a big headline saying, “Kay Lockwood Takes To The Silver Screen”. I reached for my magnifying glass immediately! The headline was followed by a description of the film, ending: “
A Dream Of Love
is starting at the Coliseum next Monday”.’

‘I should have written to tell you sooner.’

‘You should also have written to your mother and not allowed her to find out by reading the local paper, or indeed seeing the poster on the billboards. Forgive me for saying so, dear, but I think what you have done is spiteful, and whatever the situation is between you and your mother, this will only have made things worse.’

‘My mother has behaved quite hurtfully, you know.’

‘Maybe so, but couldn’t you be grown-up enough to try and make things better between you?’

‘Oh dear, are you cross with me?’

‘Not cross, Kay, but a little disappointed. What were you thinking o
f
? You must have known that she would find out sooner or later.’

‘What can I do?’

‘I suggest that you phone your mother and apologise for not letting her know.’

‘What shall I say?’

‘No excuses. Tell her the truth. And may I suggest that you telephone her immediately?’

‘I feel as though I’m back at school.’

‘Oh dear. Do I sound like an old schoolmarm?’

‘No. You sound like an old friend.’

‘Thank goodness for that. I want you to know, Kay, that I think of you as much more than a former pupil. In fact I couldn’t be more fond of you.’

Kay had tears in her eyes as they said goodbye.

Miss Bennet had made her feel ashamed, but at the same time Kay couldn’t help thinking that it was her mother’s attitude that was the problem. Nevertheless, she settled herself more comfortably on the chair next to the telephone table and was just about to dial her mother’s number when the phone rang. Thinking it would probably be for Shirley, who seemed to be expecting a call, she picked up the receiver, prepared to go and get her friend. But the person at the other end was Julie.

‘I’ve been trying to get through for ages,’ her sister said.

Kay smiled. ‘You’re exaggerating. I wasn’t on the phone for very long.’

Julie’s tone lightened. ‘Oh, I know, but it’s very frustrating when you phone someone and the number is engaged. Especially when you have so much to say.’

‘Well, you’re through now, so say whatever you want to say.’

‘I think you might have written to me sooner. We found out that you’d made a film from the local paper before the post was delivered.’

‘We?’

‘Tony always reads the papers over breakfast. He prefers to do that rather than speak to me. He reads the local rag first, in case there’s any news in it that would affect the wretched business. Anyway, there’s a piece on the entertainments page, just above the cinema listings, all about you being in a film. Local girl makes good kind of thing.’

Julie sounded petulant and Kay knew she would have to tread carefully. ‘What did Tony say?’

‘Not very much, actually. He frowned and handed the paper over to me and said, “Did you know about this?”

‘I glanced at the paper and shook my head, and he gave a sort of shrug and buried himself in
The
Times.
Before I could get on with my poached eggs, the phone rang. It was Tony’s mother. She’d read the paper and she was so excited. She wants to get up a group to go to the cinema on Monday, then go back to her house afterwards and have a party.’

‘But that’s good of her, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, it’s any excuse for a chance to have a drink or two.’

‘Julie, that’s unkind.’

Julie sounded defensive. ‘Yes, I know, but she’s turning into a dipso and it’s all because she’s so lonely. Tony’s father is either at work or his wretched club, and she’s left to entertain herself with the contents of the cocktail cabinet. Her friends all dropped off long ago.’ Julie sighed. ‘Apart from Mum. The poor love still thinks it’s an honour to be invited there. Thank goodness she doesn’t like alcohol, or there’d be two lonely old dipsos.’

Kay was shocked. ‘You mustn’t speak about our mother like that. Nor Mrs Chalmers. I know you’re pregnant, but couldn’t you go along and keep your mother-in-law company now and then?’

‘When Mr Chalmers and Tony are working late or at their club, do you mean? Then there’d be two of us!’

Kay felt desperately sorry for her younger sister, but she didn’t see what she could do. ‘Do you go to visit Mum when Tony’s out? Now that you’ve left home she must be lonely too, you know.’

‘What? And let her know what a sad state my marriage is in?’

‘I don’t know what to say. Whenever you’ve phoned me lately you’ve never sounded as miserable as this.’

Kay heard Julie draw in her breath and then she said, ‘Oh, Kay, I’m so sorry!’

‘You’re sorry? Why?’

‘For moaning on like this when I should be congratulating you. But I must say, I still think you ought to have let me know that you’ve become a film star.’

Kay laughed. ‘Yes, I ought to have told you what was happening, but I was afraid the whole thing would be a flop. And as for being a film star, I’ve only taken a supporting part in one film and I don’t even know if I’ll be offered a part in any others. My agent will do his best for me, but he says I’m so individualistic that I mustn’t expect instant success in movies. The right roles will only come along now and then.’

‘I’m sorry to hear it.’

‘No, Julie, you needn’t be. I love doing radio work and I’d be happy to do that forever.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do.’

‘So why didn’t you tell Mum about this?’

Kay was shocked at how swiftly Julie had changed the subject. ‘Would Mum have been interested?’ she asked.

‘I honestly don’t know, but it was spiteful of you to let her find out in her beloved
Seaside Chronicle
.’

This was the second time within the hour that Kay had been accused of acting spitefully. She had to accept that it might be true.

‘I’ll phone her now.’

‘That’s good. And Kay, don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right when the baby comes. Mum is looking forward to being a grandmother, and so, God help us, is Mrs Chalmers. I won’t be lonely then, and as for Tony, I have the feeling that he’ll be a marvellous father – just wait and see.’