Authors: Rosalind Laker
He did not see that she left her refilled glass on a side table as a door was opened for them into a darkened salon. Black velvet curtains were keeping out the light and these were parted for them to enter by a footman and then closed again. The air was heavy with the perfume of the women and the smoke of cigars as well as a certain exotic aroma from Egyptian cigarettes.
She did not glance at the screen until they were seated, but immediately she realized the type of show that it was. A young woman with large and very beautiful breasts was being undressed by her lover through a series of deftly changed colour slides. He was wearing a costume such as Romeo might have worn and was kissing every part of her that became blatantly exposed. This was being accompanied by the music of a violin being played somewhere behind the screen, although it could hardly be heard above the giggles, little shrieks and guffaws from the audience with the occasional burst of applause.
Lisette sighed in exasperation at her own foolishness in having been trapped into viewing this lascivious rubbish. She should have known that nothing as straightforward as an ordinary slide-show would interest Philippe who – judging by the salacious pleasure on his face in the light reflected from the screen – had clearly known what to expect from this performance. Romeo had now thrown off his clothes to reveal his own masculine magnificence and copulation began to take place in what was obviously going to be a variety of gymnastic and very exposed ways.
She had seen such slides before when Daniel had gone through other lanternists’ collections that he had bought at auction, for he hated to see antique slides broken up or thrown away and watched out for any coming on to the market. He saw them as the true forerunners of all animated pictures, and felt they should be preserved as part of motion picture history, whatever the content.
She had to admit to herself that this lanternist was skilled and she watched with professional interest for another five minutes before putting aside Philippe’s arm, which he had draped about her caressingly, his fingers stroking her. As she rose from her chair. the velvet curtains were again pulled aside for her while the footman’s gaze remained glued to the screen. She went swiftly out of the room.
Philippe came hurrying after her and caught her arm, swinging her round to face him. ‘I thought marriage would have driven prudishness from you!’ he exclaimed bitterly.
She gave him a tired look, not bothering to answer. ‘I’m going back to the hotel. There is no need for you to leave.’
‘I’m coming with you.’
They rode back in silence, but she sensed the rage building up in him. He had thought that with enough champagne she would soften towards him, perhaps even be stirred to amorousness by the slides as had been happening with some of the couples revealed by the glow from the screen.
They collected their keys at the reception desk and went up in the lift without speaking. Yet he saw her to her door as he had done previously and unlocked it for her.
‘Goodnight, Philippe,’ she said, drawing back over the threshold, disturbed by his mulish expression. ‘I shall not be seeing you in the morning, because I’ll be having an early breakfast in my suite. Thank you again for arranging the meeting with Maurice.’
He did not appear to have heard what she had said. ‘I loved you, Lisette!’ he burst out furiously. ‘You should never have run away from me all those years ago! And I’m damned if I’ll let you leave me now!’
He threw himself forward, bearing her with him, and slamming the door behind them. She cried out as she fought him, kicking and hitting out, but she was no match for his fired up strength. He was trying to get her through to the bedroom, determined to have her at last, but the chaise longue was nearest and he threw her down on it, crushing her with his weight. The struggle continued as he clawed at her skirts, but his hand fell away from her thigh in the sudden exploding brilliance of a photographer’s flash powder coming like a bolt of lightning from the re-opened door.
‘What the hell—?’ Philippe roared, falling back awkwardly, and she sat up, both of them staring in horror at the intruder, who stood poised to take a second photograph. With him was a little man whom Lisette recognized instantly. It was he who had stared so penetratingly at her from the station platform when she was leaving for Paris!
‘Get out!’ Philippe staggered forward, but threw his arm up across his face, momentarily half blinded by the second flash before he charged forward to throw both men back into the corridor. But the little man was quick moving and with a powerful thrust adroitly sent him staggering back while speaking politely in surprisingly cultured tones.
‘Pray forgive the intrusion, Monsieur Bonnard, and my apologies to you, Madame Shaw, but Madame Bonnard needed evidence for a divorce and now she will have it.’
Both men departed swiftly, closing the door after them. Philippe sank down on to a chair and dropped his head into his hands. ‘Oh, my God,’ he repeated over and over again.
Lisette, feeling as though all her strength had ebbed from her, managed to get up from the chaise lonque, aware of shaking uncontrollably from the shock of Philippe’s attempted rape and the aftermath.
‘Go now, Philippe,’ she said through clenched teeth, clutching the back of a chair for support.
He nodded in a drunken daze, but did not move. ‘I never thought she would set a private detective on me.’
‘On us,’ she corrected flatly. ‘That little man was in Monte Carlo and no doubt he has recorded all the other times we have met.’
Yet Philippe’s thoughts were only for himself and the bleak future ahead of him if the divorce went through. ‘Oh, my God,’ he began again. ‘She’s rich as Croesus. I can’t let her chuck me out!’
‘Then use your charm on her,’ Lisette said sharply, ice in her voice. ‘You have found it useful enough in the past. Go!’
He nodded. This time he rose to his feet and reeled towards the door. He left without a backward glance in her direction.
She rushed to close and lock the door after him before leaning back against it in overwhelming wave of despair. How would she explain everything to Daniel? She was terribly afraid that it would open a gulf between them.
L
isette delayed her journey home by twenty-four hours in order to consult her lawyers. She guessed that Philippe had checked out of the hotel as she did not see him again.
When she arrived home she telephoned Daniel at the studios. He was glad to hear her voice, although he thought she sounded very tired, and he promised to get home as soon as it was possible to have an early dinner with her. Yet two hours went by and Maisie was keeping the food hot as she had so often before, wondering why she still believed that he would be on time Eventually he threw open the front door and called out happily, ‘I’m home, Lisette!’
It surprised him that she did not come to meet him after her lengthy absence. Daisy, taking his hat and coat, told him she was in the drawing room.
He found her standing by the fireplace and she turned to face him as he entered. His immediate thought was that she was not looking radiant as he had expected, but was pale and heavy eyed. Her smile trembled as did her clasped hands that she was holding in front of her at waist level.
‘My darling! What has happened to you?’ he asked in concern, coming across to take her in his arms and kiss her.
‘Something quite dreadful has taken place.’
His immediate thought was that some serious calamity must have overtaken her friend. ‘Is it Joanna?’ he asked with concern. ‘Has something happened to her or anybody else? An accident, perhaps?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing like that.’ She hesitated in her misery of what she had to tell him, not knowing how to start, although she had gone over it all so many times in her own mind. ‘It’s something entirely different.’
He was relieved. Since nothing fatal had occurred he took a guess at the cause of her distress. She had mentioned going to the Monte Carlo casino several times in her letters and he believed now that she had lost a great deal of money at the tables and was worried about how to tell him.
‘Come and sit down.’ Taking her by the shoulders, he guided her to a brocade-upholstered sofa in the bright flicker of flames in the fireplace. ‘I can see that you’re tired from the journey. Was it a rough crossing? I’ll get you a cognac.’
‘I’ve brought you a bottle from France.’ She indicated where it stood on a side table.
He was a cognac connoisseur and when he picked up the bottle he whistled appreciatively as he studied the label. ‘What a splendid gift! Thank you, darling!’
She watched him open a rosewood cupboard where he took out two tulip-shaped glasses. When he had poured the cognac he handed one glass to her and then sat down in the opposite chair, holding up his glass to examine the cognac’s superb colour. Then he inhaled its aroma, assessing its force and elegance. Yet all the time he was watching her out of the corner of his eye, able to see she was in a high state of tension, and he cupped his glass in his hand to warm it while giving the golden liquid a little swirl.
‘Take your time and do this nectar justice,’ he advised, wanting to calm her. ‘It will do you good. Shall I tell you what has been happening at the studios since my last letter?’
She nodded, thankful for a reprieve to gather her thoughts together. While she sipped the cognac he chatted, elaborating on what he had told her in his hastily scrawled letters. He was enthusiastic about his investment in a small London music hall, which had been closed for a number of years and was almost derelict, enabling him to purchase it at a bargain price.
‘I’m going to call it the Royal Picturedrome. It will be adapted for showing motion pictures with music hall turns performed on stage in between the movies instead of the other way round. It’s high time that motion pictures took first place.’ He leaned forward in his enthusiasm. ‘The theatre is being renovated throughout and I intend to have a grand opening.’ He grinned. ‘I hope you chose something splendid in Paris to wear for the occasion.’
‘Yes, I did,’ she answered tonelessly.
‘Now,’ he said encouragingly, ‘what is it you want to tell me?’
She was not to know how much her first words were to chill him through. ‘By sheer chance and after all these years I met Philippe Bonnard again at the casino in Monte Carlo.’ She paused, gathering the courage to carry on. ‘I think that for both of us it was as if momentarily the clock had turned back to the happier times he and I had known before the night of your magic lantern show. The great difference was not that we were older, but that this time I was not wearing rose-coloured spectacles. Yet when he invited me to luncheon the next day I accepted. It was in the hope that he would be able to give me news of Maurice, my half-brother.’
He listened frozen faced and without interruption as she gave him a full account of all that had happened.
‘The divorce will create a dreadful scandal,’ she concluded wearily, ‘as divorces always do, especially since so many people will know my name. The case will come to court in Paris.’
She kept her eyes lowered, not knowing whether he was showing anger at her stupidity in letting herself become involved again with Philippe or jealous suspicion that she had softened towards the man she had once loved after the lapse of years. Then, although Daniel spoke very calmly, there was a sharp edge to his voice.
‘Let’s go over what happened once more.’ He put aside his glass and began to tick each meeting off on his fingers. ‘After meeting Philippe at the casino you lunched with him. Then he travelled with you to Paris where you booked into the hotel where he was staying and later you dined together that evening. The next day you both lunched with the two schoolboys and in the evening you and he had supper at Maxim’s after going to the opera. Last night you went with him to a lewd slide show and afterwards in your suite the two of you were photographed in each other’s arms.’ He paused deliberately, his throat tight with angry jealousy. ‘I don’t think Madame Bonnard will have the least difficulty in getting her divorce.’
A terrible silence fell between them before she spoke, her voice almost inaudible. ‘It all happened because I was just so grateful to Philippe for arranging the meeting with Maurice.’
‘But,’ he answered fiercely, ‘this was the man you once said you never wished to see again for as long as you lived.’
His harsh tone seemed to cut through her, but she jerked her head up on an unexpected rush of anger to meet his rage with her own. ‘He did not become my lover!’
Springing to his feet, he began pacing up and down. ‘I don’t doubt your word! It’s just that I wish I could get my hands around his scrawny neck!’
She felt an hysterical urge to laugh. ‘It’s not in the least scrawny. If it had been I might have managed to strangle him myself!’
He stopped his pacing and their eyes met and held. She saw his fury ease at her absurd declaration and he came forward to snatch her up into his arms. ‘I never want to lose you,’ he exclaimed in torment.
She took his face between her hands. ‘You never will!’ she promised fervently.
They drew apart as Daisy came to say that dinner was served. When she left them to eat on their own Lisette told Daniel about her visit to her lawyers. She felt calmer now that she had told him everything else.
‘The last of those who served my father have all retired, but the grandson of one of them, Monsieur Monier, will handle everything for me.’
‘Does that mean you will not have to make an appearance?’
‘He is hoping that I can be spared that, but if Madame Bonnard is vindictive my presence will be demanded.’
‘Do you know anything about her?’
‘Only that she is beautiful, very rich, and clearly was very generous to Philippe. He was in total panic when divorce was mentioned by the private detective. So I suppose she paid off all his gambling debts as well as everything else.’
‘Have you any idea when the case will come to court?’
‘Monsieur Monier thought it would be in about three months. Fortunately my countrymen are far more tolerant and far less hypocritical about amorous matters than people here in England and the divorce will cause me less harm there. But if an account reaches English newspapers, my name, known to so many people now through our movies, will become a target for scandal. It could change the attitude of audiences towards me. Some would boycott any movie I appeared in.’