The Magus, A Revised Version (56 page)

‘
What was it called?
’

‘
Polymus Films.
’
She spelt it.
‘
It
’
s in whatever they list film companies in. The trade directory. Perfectly respectable and rather successful, so far as our agent could tell. Like the contract, when we got to that
–
also absolutely normal.
’

‘
Could he have fixed the agent?
’

She let out a breath.
‘
We
’
ve wondered. But I don
’
t think he had to. I suppose it was the money. There it was, in the bank. Money must be true. I mean, we realized it was a kind of risk. Perhaps if it had just been the one of us. But being two.
’
She gave me a wry little interrogative glance under her eyebrows.
‘
Are you believing any of this?
’

‘
Shouldn
’
t I be?
’

‘
I feel I
’
m not explaining it very well.
’

‘
You
’
re doing fine.
’

But she gave me another look, still doubtful about how I was reacting to such apparent gullibility; then lowered her eyes.

‘
There
’
s something else. Greece. Having done classics. I
’
ve always had this longing to come here. That was part of the inducement. Maurice kept promising we
’
d have time to see everything. Which he hasn
’
t welshed on. I mean there
’
s this, but the rest of it has been like one long holiday.
’
Again she seemed almost embarrassed at the knowledge that their rewards had been much greater than mine.
‘
He
’
s got a fabulous yacht. We live like princesses on it.
’

‘
Your mother?
’

‘
Oh Maurice saw to that. He insisted on meeting her one day when she
’
d come up to see us in London. Bowled her over with his gentle-manliness.
’
She grinned ruefully.
‘
And his money.
’

‘
She knows what
’
s happened?
’

‘
We
’
ve told her we
’
re still rehearsing. We don
’
t want to worry her.
’
She pulled a face.
‘
She
’
s an expert at the useless tizzy.
’

‘
This film?
’

‘
It was taken from a demotic Gree
k story by a writer called Theo
doritis
–
have you ever heard of him?
Three Hearts?
’
I shook my head.
‘
Apparently it
’
s never been translated. It was written in the early
‘
twenties. It
’
s about two English girls, they
’
re supposed to be the British ambassador at Athens
’
s daughters, though not twins in the original, who go for a holiday on a Greek island during the First World War and
–’

‘
One doesn
’
t happen to be called Lily Montgomery, by any chance?
’

‘
No, but wait. This island. They meet a Greek writer there
–
a poet, he
’
s got tuberculosis, dying …
and he falls in love with each
sister in turn, and they fall in love with him and everyone
’
s terribly miserable and it all ends
–
you can guess. Actually it
’
s not quite as silly as that. It does have a certain period charm.
’

‘
You
’
ve read it?
’

‘
What I can. It
’
s quite short.
’

I spoke in Greek.
‘
Xerete kala ta ma ellenika?

She answered, in a much more fluent and better accented demotic than my own, that she was learning some modern Greek, though knowing the ancient language was less help than people imagined; and gave me a steady look. I touched my forehead in obeisance.

‘
He also showed us a script in London.
’

‘
In English?
’

‘
He said he was hoping to distribute two versions. Greek and English. Dubbing voices both ways.
’
She gave a little shrug.
‘
It seemed playable. Though it was really just a cunning rehearsal.
’

‘
But how
–’

‘
Wait a minute. More evidence.
’

She delved in the bag, then swivelled round so that we were sitting facing in opposite directions. She came out with a wallet; produced two cuttings from it. One showed the two sisters standing in a London street, in overcoats and woollen hats, laughing. I knew the paper by the print but it was in any case gummed on to a grey cut
tings-agency tag:
Evening Standard, January 8th, 1953.
The paragraph
underneath ran:

AND BRAINS AS WELL!

Two lucky twins, June and Julie (on right) Holmes, who will star in a film this summer to be shot in Greece. The twins both have Cambridge degrees, acted a lot at varsity, speak eight languages between them. Unfair note for bachelors: neither wants to marry yet.

‘
We didn
’
t write the caption.
’

‘
So I deduced.
’

The other cutting was from the
Cinema Trade News.
It repeated, in Americanese, what she had just told me.

‘
Oh and while I
’
m at it. My mother.
’
She showed me a snapshot from the wallet; a woman with fluffy hair in a deckchair in a garden, a clumber spaniel beside her. I co
uld see another photograph, and
made her show me that as well: a man in a sports shirt, a nervous and intelligent face. He seemed in his early thirties.

‘
This is … ?
’

‘
Yes.
’
She added,
‘
Was.
’

She took the photo back. There was something closed in her face, and I did not press. She went quickly on.

‘
Of course we realize now it was a perfect cover for Maurice. If we were to play well-brought-up young ambassador
’
s daughters in 1914 … we innocently trotted
off
for lessons in deportment. Had clothes fittings. All the Lily costumes were made in London. Then in May we came out. He met us in Athens and said the rest of the company wouldn
’
t assemble for a fortnight. He had warned us, so we weren
’
t surprised. He took us on a cruise with him. To Rhodes and Crete. On the
Arethusa.
His yacht.
’

‘
Which he never brings here?
’

‘
It
’
s usually at Nauplia.
’

‘
In Athens
–
you stayed in his house?
’

‘
I don
’
t think he
’
s got one there. He says he hasn
’
t. We stayed at the Grande Bretagne.
’

‘
No
off
ice?
’

‘
I know.
’
She contracted her mouth self-accusingly.
‘
But we
’
d been told only the location shooting would take place here. And the interiors in Beirut. He showed us set designs.
’
She hesitated.
‘
It was a new world for us, Nicholas. If we hadn
’
t been so green. And so excited. And he did introduce us to two people. The Greek actor he said was going to play the poet. And the director. Another Greek. We all had dinner … actually we rather liked them both. There was lots of talk about the film.
’

‘
You didn
’
t check on them?
’

‘
We were only there a couple of nights
–
then
off
in the yacht with Maurice. They were to come straight here.
’

‘
But never did?
’

‘
We
’
ve never seen them again.
’
She picked a loose thread from the hem of her skirt.
‘
As a matter of fact we did think it was odd there was no publicity, but they even had a reason for that. Apparently here if you say you
’
re going to make a film you get hundreds of extras turning up in hope of a job.
’

By chance I knew that was true. Some three
months before a
Greek film unit had been working on Hydra. Two of the school waiters had run away in the hope of being hired by them. It had been a minor scandal for a couple of days. I didn
’
t tell Julie, but smiled with the secret knowledge.

‘
You came here.
’

‘
After a lovely cruise. But that
’
s when the madness began. Hardly forty-eight hours. Already we
’
d both realized there was something
subtly different about Maurice. Because of the cruise, in so many ways
we felt closer to him … I suppose we
’
ve both missed not having a father since 1943. He couldn
’
t be that, but it was a little like finding a kind of fairy uncle. Being alone with him so much, knowing we could trust him. And we had fascinating evenings. Enormous arguments. About life, love, literature, the theatre … everything. Except when we tried to discover his past, then a sort of curtain came down. You know how it is. Things you really only see in retrospect. How shall I put it
–
it was all so civilized on the boat. Then suddenly here it was as if he owned us. We somehow weren
’
t his guests any more.
’

Again she sought my eyes, as if I must be blaming her for liking anything about the old man. She had lain back on an elbow, and her voice had dropped. Now and then she would touch her hair back from where the breeze carried it across her cheek.

‘
I know the feeling.
’

‘
The first thing was… we wanted to go and see the village. But he said no, he wanted to make the film as quietly as possible. But it was too quiet. No one else here, no sign of generators, lights, kliegs, all the things they
’
d need. No production unit. And this feeling that Maurice was watching us. There was something in the way he began to smile. As if he knew something we didn
’
t. And didn
’
t have to hide it any more.
’

‘
I know that exactly.
’

‘
It was our second afternoon here. June
– I
was sleeping-tried to go for a walk. She got to the gate and suddenly this silent Negro -we
’
d never seen him before
–
stepped out in the path and stopped her. He wouldn
’
t let her pass, wouldn
’
t answer her. Of course she was petrified. She came back at once and we marched
off
to Maurice.
’
Her eyes lingered a dry moment on mine.
‘
Then he told us.
’
She looked down at the rug.
‘
Not quite straight out. He could see we were … obviously. He put us through a sort
of catechism. Had he
ever behaved improperly, had he not honoured all that the contracts stipulated in financial terms, didn
’
t the relationship we
’
d established on the cruise … you know. Then he did come out with it. Yes, he had misled us about the film, but not totally. He did need the services of two accomplished and highly intelligent
–
his adjectives
–
young actresses. We must please listen. He swore blind that if, having listened, we were unconvinced, then