Camellia (59 page)

Nick had trawled through theatre archives until he managed to find some old faded photographs and programmes of the revue at the Phoenix theatre in which she had appeared as the war ended. He found one picture of a very young Helena dressed in a maid's costume, doing a comic sketch with her friend Edward Manning. There was also an article and photograph of Ambrose Dingle, the producer who had almost ruined Magnus's night at the Savoy, along with a picture of 'The Dingle Belles' his dancing troupe. One of these leggy showgirls was Bonny.

Helena's career seemed to have taken a step backwards after this point. He wondered why Helena, Edward and Bonny had left the West End stage together to tour provincial towns. Magnus remembered Bonny claiming that Ambrose Dingle had sacked her when she got food poisoning and that the other two had walked out in sympathy. Yet Nick felt there must have been more to it than that.

The stage version of
Oklahoma
which Helena joined in 1949 was well documented. The critics proclaimed her performance as 'Brilliant, feisty, and unforgettable' – yet she only stayed in it for a few months, leaving in October of 1949. The filming began for
Soho
in February 1950. It was interesting to discover that Sir Miles Hamilton's company had been involved in the backing of both productions.

A lucky find of old Hollywood magazines from the fifties in Portobello Road market, turned up a reference to Helena as aloof, mysterious and shy – in direct contrast to what Magnus had said about her. Much of the gossip about her in these magazines revolved around Edward Manning, who had joined her in Hollywood. Both Edward and Helena strenuously denied being lovers.

There were a great many articles and photographs devoted to Edward, far more than to Helena. He was startlingly handsome, with the kind of blond, bronzed and blue-eyed charm which ought to have made him a matinee idol overnight. But as far as Nick could ascertain the man never got more than the odd walk-on role in a couple of obscure films. He was photographed posing on a diving board in skimpy swimming trunks, in dark glasses and open-necked shirt behind the wheel of his Cadillac, and resplendent in a white tuxedo with a glass of champagne in his hands.

It struck Nick as odd that Helena never once referred to Bonny when she described the early years back in England. Surely even when they'd fallen out there would have been times when it was natural to mention an old dancing partner, even if only in vague terms.

But the strangest thing of all about Helena, was her apparent reluctance to behave like a star. From that first film
Soho,
through all the Hollywood musicals, there were countless studio pictures taken in costume on the set, and many of her caught unawares by press photographers, but there were none of her at glittering parties, premieres or holidaying in exotic places.

As Nick studied the old photographs, he was staggered by her beauty: those huge dark eyes full of fire and passion, that sensual wide mouth and delicate bone structure. Her nose and chin were small but well-defined, as though created to draw attention back to her glorious eyes. With each passing year she appeared to gain rather than lose beauty. Even in the latest one he'd managed to find, in which she'd passed forty, Helena was perfection.

It was frustrating to know she held the key to all those secrets, and yet be unable to reach her. Even if he was to go out to Hollywood, it was extremely unlikely that she'd agree to talk to him. Letters to a studio would end up in sacks of fan mail, his phone calls would be ignored. And if Bonny had hurt her too, it was unlikely that she would want to hear anything about Mel.

*

'Look, son,' Magnus laid one big hand on Nick's bare leg. 'I'm not suggesting we forget Mel, but I am going to insist you pull yourself together. You are an actor, or so you've been telling me for years. Put all your energy into this new role.'

Nick knew this was an order. When his father insisted on something, he felt he had to obey him. But there was also a sense of relief in being taken in hand. He knew he couldn't go on dwelling on this mystery for ever.

He had left the Bromley repertory company two weeks ago and was waiting to start filming
Delinquents
in the Lake District in a few days' time. He had high hopes for this screenplay: it was the kind of role he'd dreamed of for years. He was to play the part of an Outward Bound instructor, teaching young offenders. Daniel McKinley, a much talked about young actor, was cast in the lead role of the brutish tearaway in his charge, and doubtless he would get all the acclaim. But Nick was impressed by the script. It had a fast-moving plot and realistic hard-hitting dialogue, funny, yet inspiring. He felt this might well be a breakthrough in his career.

Looking at his father, Nick felt a surge of love for this man who had stood by him through thick and thin.

'Could you try and contact Helena?' he pleaded.

Magnus gave a wry grin. 'Okay, I'll try. But don't start building up your hopes Nick, she must get a ton of fan mail every day and she might not appreciate hearing from me anyway. Now let's get back to work. I want the rocks in place before the day's out.'

A month later Nick was standing on the shore of Lake Windermere, watching the film crew stow their equipment into a launch. The sky was a menacing black, and a brisk wind was making the lake choppy. In a few moments he would have to dispense with his warm sweater and dive from a rowing boat into the icy water to rescue Dan. Behind him the rest of the cast clustered around the warmth of the mobile canteen, drinking coffee and smoking. He could hear their laughter and guessed the jokes today were based on bets as to how many takes would be necessary for this particular scene. He fervently hoped he could do it right first time: it was too cold to face plunging in more than once today. Yet despite his nervousness, he was happy. His role in
Delinquents
was the most satisfying part he'd ever played.

Dan, who played Gary, the seventeen-year-old Glaswegian lout he was to rescue, reminded Nick of himself a few years earlier – an arrogant kid, who when he wasn't bragging about his acting talent, was either rolling up a joint or chatting up some young girl who was watching the action. Yet perhaps because of Nick's understanding of Dan's character, a bond had already formed between the pair of them.

In the script Gary has only one ambition in life: to be a bigger, tougher villain than any he'd encountered in several years of approved schools. Nick, as Alan, the committed sportsman-cum-social worker, puts Gary and a group of other equally troubled teenagers, all serving Borstal sentences, through a series of exhausting activities, with the intention of showing them how to use their toughness and courage to a more useful end.

'Ready?' Tim Hargreaves, the director, asked in a gruff voice, touching Nick's elbow. Normally he expected the cast to be ready the moment he bellowed at them, but there was a hint of concern on his big face today.

'As ready as I'll ever be,' Nick grinned. 'I hope Dan's a better swimmer than I am a life-saver!'

'Just make it look good.' Tim pulled up the hood of his anorak and adjusted the life jacket round his wide girth more securely, then stepped into the motorboat with the camera men. 'Rather you than me!'

Dan was already sitting in his rowing boat, wearing only shorts and a sleeveless singlet, bare arms rippling with muscle, the only person in the company not shivering. 'Do I really have to look such a prat?' he said sourly to Nick as he gingerly climbed into another small boat alongside him. 'I bloody well rowed for my school.'

'It's harder to look a prat than to do it properly,' Nick smiled as he picked up his oars. Dan couldn't be described as handsome – his features were too rough hewn – but it was a face full of character. 'Just watch me, I'm an expert on looking a prat!'

For all his arrogance Dan was a fine young actor. The moment he'd got his boat in the right position for the take some thirty yards from the shore, he began to flay his oars around in just the way a novice would.

Nick had the reverse problem: he had to look as if he'd been born in a boat, skimming across the lake effortlessly while shouting instructions to Dan.

Dan stood up in the bows, waving his arms in feigned anger, right on cue. As the boat rocked, he staggered and fell into the water backwards.

Dan's portrayal of a non-swimmer was so realistic even Nick thought for a moment he was in difficulty. Anxiety made him row harder, and he forgot about the biting wind. When Dan sank beneath the water, Nick was up in his boat, diving in without a moment's hesitation.

He had underestimated the weight of his track-suit and plimsolls as he reached out for Dan and pulled him to the surface. The water was so cold he felt paralysed, but still he had to gasp out his lines while hauling a twelve-stone lad pretending to be semiconscious back to the boat and heave him into it, unaided.

'Cut!' Nick heard the magic command from the motorboat and sank down into the bottom of the boat beside Dan.

'Bloody hell, Nick,' Dan burst out as he lay panting like a netted fish. 'I didn't think you had it in you.'

Nick had known the part of outdoor pursuits instructor was perfect for him when he read the script, but he hadn't anticipated that his feelings for young Dan would echo the storyline or that Dan in turn would come to admire him. Nick's first reaction to the lad had been horror: he strutted around the set like a rooster, boasted about himself, put others down, and generally behaved like the spoiled pampered brat he was. But as filming started, so did a kind of chemistry between them, which, as the days passed, grew stronger. Nick had some real experience with rock climbing and he shared it with Dan. In return the lad helped him out in other directions. One evening about ten days into filming, instead of rushing off into Windermere to get drunk and pick up a girl Dan hung around waiting for Nick. He claimed to want to discuss the next day's shooting, but in fact he was curious about Nick. To Nick's surprise Dan had seen all six episodes of
Hunnicroft Estate
and couldn't understand why Nick wasn't famous.

'Because I was a conceited prat,' Nick said lightly. He went on to chart his rapid decline from star to nobody. 'Watch out you don't fall into the same trap,' he said finally as Dan sat hanging on his every word. 'You're a bumptious young bugger just like I was and you need friends in this business. If you do make the big-time from this one small film, don't think it's down to your talent. It's just luck.'

After that evening Dan sought Nick out every time they had a break in between scenes. He stopped boasting and name dropping and from behind the brash bold exterior stepped a child, desperate for some affection and attention.

The story built to a dramatic climax when Alan, instructing the boys in rock climbing, falls into a crevice because his line hadn't been properly secured. All the boys see this as an opportunity to escape from the gruelling course and make a break back to Glasgow.

They flee, but by the time they have reached the road at the bottom of the mountain, Gary finds he has a conscience after all. Dan played the scene superbly, torn between freedom and his fear for the safety of the man he has come to admire.

The other boys take his change of heart as betrayal, but Gary eventually sways them, revealing the qualities of leadership and reason Alan had brought out in him during the course.

Sending some of the boys for help, Gary climbs back up to Alan. The final scene, as he inches his way towards the injured instructor, is achingly emotional as Alan realises that the lad really does have all the finer qualities he'd hoped for.

'Perfect,' Tim called out jubilantly at the final take. 'If that doesn't win a few awards then I'll retire.'

Nick felt strange as he drove back to London. He felt he ought to be excited – everyone was predicting both he and Dan would soon be inundated with film offers – or at least a little sad at saying goodbye to all the new friends he'd made. But he felt nothing. It was almost as if his emotions had shut down.

When he got to his small flat in Hither Green that afternoon and saw the mess he'd left behind him a month ago, his numbness left him. The bed was unmade, thick gritty dust on every surface. The kitchen was even worse, the sink full of unwashed dishes, a couple of rotting black bananas surrounded by flies, and ants marching in a thick orderly line up the wall and into the cupboard. Suddenly he switched back to reality.

'Yuk!' he exclaimed, opening a window to let out the hot, smell-laden air. His flat overlooked the railway lines by Hither Green station and the noise from the trains usually made him keep it closed, but noise was preferable to a stink. 'So this is how the star really lives! Don't even think of going out tonight. This has to be tackled.'

He was halfway through washing the kitchen floor when the phone rang.

'Thank goodness you're back,' his father's deep voice rang out.

'I got home a couple of hours ago,' Nick said. 'Why? Is there something wrong?'

'Something right at last,' Magnus chuckled. 'Guess who's coming to Oaklands?'

'Mel?' Her name just popped out.

'No, son.' Magnus's voice dropped a little. 'But we're halfway there. It's Helena. She's coming here in two weeks' time.'

'What? You're having me on!'

'Of course I'm not,' Magnus said.

'But how? Why?' Nick had to sit down.

'I'd better come clean,' Magnus explained. 'You see some time ago I read a tiny article in the local newspaper about a film company looking for locations in the West Country. Amongst other things they were looking for a suitable country house. I thought it might give Oaklands a bit of a boost, so I sent off some photographs. Anyway, I had a letter back thanking me for my interest but saying Oaklands wasn't suitable, they were looking for something more sinister. They enclosed the bit of blurb about the film
Broken Bridges
they were intending to make, presumably just as a public relations gesture, and low and behold, I saw Helena Forester was to be the star.'

'And you didn't tell me?' Nick felt a flush of anger.