Stratford Jewel Read online

  ***

  Chapter 16

  'Rosa, you can't leave me just when we've found one another, had such a wonderful few weeks together.'

  Rosa continued folding up her clothes and placing them in her case. 'I can't stay, Adam. I must have been crazy, but I was so grateful to you for just being there, that first night. I didn't think of Agnes, how she would feel.' How I felt, she added to herself, when she discovered that Max had been with Gloria.

  'Agnes tricked me into marriage,' Adam protested. 'I'm convinced of that now. So why should I feel I have to be loyal to her?'

  'You could have been the father of her baby. That's when you should have thought about loyalty. You married her, made promises, as I did.'

  'On a false assumption.'

  'They were made. I'm not blaming you, Adam, for what's happened. It was my fault, I wanted you, I asked you. My promises were broken too. It was wrong. We've no right to disregard those promises now. We're both still married, however much we may regret it.'

  'You're going with the company?' He turned away and looked out of the window. 'Rosa, does your acting mean more to me than I do?'

  Rosa sighed. Adam had been so good to her, she hated hurting him, but she had to tell him the truth. Some of it, she amended silently. 'When I was given this part, you knew I'd be touring. It was what I wanted, why I came home. I didn't mean to come to you.'

  'I was just there, was I?'

  Rosa bowed her head. 'I was pleased you were there, but it was wrong. I'm leaving Birmingham anyway, but I must leave you now. I'll go to an hotel. Thank you for giving me somewhere to stay, I'm grateful – '

  'For God's sake, Rosa! Don't I mean anything at all to you?'

  'It's not the point.'

  'It's very much the point. I've always loved you, wanted to marry you, and finally we were together. It's been marvellous, incredible, to kiss you, hold you, love you. Has it meant so little to you that you can just walk away without any regrets?'

  'My regrets are for starting it.'

  Rosa went to the wardrobe to fetch more clothes, and for a moment rested her hot forehead against the mirror in the door. She wondered whether she was being hypocritical, making the fact that they were both married her excuse for leaving. She did feel guilty, and the memory of Agnes's expression when she'd seen them together would haunt her for a long time, but was that her real reason? She would not tell Adam the whole truth, she would spare him that, but she had felt nothing in his arms. The warmth, the security of his body next to hers had been enough at first. It had been no more than human comfort. There had never been the faintest echo of the tempestuous, raging desire she had felt with Max, or the delight experienced satisfying that desire. She had blamed herself, her guilt, her tiredness, even at times silently criticised Adam for being too eager, too hasty in his need to possess her. For the past few weeks she had simply endured his lovemaking, feeling guilty if she denied him. The double, contradictory guilt was suffocating her and she had been thankful she would soon leave Birmingham on tour. She'd known it would not end there, though, and Adam would have come to her whenever he could get away. Now she could make a clean break and she was suffering from a third sense of guilt, deceiving Adam about her real feelings.

  'Rosa, you said Max could divorce you. It's very easy in America, in some states. If I talk to Agnes, persuade her to agree to a divorce – '

  'There wouldn't be any grounds for one except your adultery,' Rosa interrupted harshly. 'Would Agnes agree to start proceedings? I doubt it. And it wouldn't be fair to her. And even if you did I wouldn't marry you. Ever.'

  Adam was white with shock. 'Rosa? You can't mean it.'

  'I do. I've made a total mess of one marriage, I won't even contemplate another.'

  'But I love you.'

  'Adam, I'm sorry, but I couldn't. I don't love you enough, you see, to give up my acting.'

  'That damned theatre.'

  'It was something I always wanted, which I had to abandon when Father died and Jack started behaving so strangely.'

  'You were willing to give it up for good when you married Max.'

  'I was thinking more about Jack, trying to save him from prison,' Rosa snapped.

  'And you blame me for that too.'

  Rosa took a deep, steadying breath, 'No, I don't. Adam, please try to understand. Suddenly the chance has come back. It was fate that the company lost one of the young actresses when she broke her contract and ran off with that rich old man. I was there, they liked me, I was offered the part. I couldn't have expected such a good part so soon if they hadn't been desperate, but I've done well, had good reviews. I'm established. It's a chance I can't miss.'

  'And I can't persuade you? You don't love me enough?'

  'I'm sorry. It's something I have to do.'

  *

  'I have a husband, back in England,' Celia said bitterly.

  Hank laughed. 'So what? Look, pet, you've been driving me wild the past month and I can't stand it any longer. If you insist on marriage, then fine, we'll both get unhitched and make us legal.'

  'I want good parts,' Celia insisted. 'I don't see why I have to get married to you.'

  'You won't get good parts unless you marry me or quit stalling and get into my bed,' he said bluntly. 'For the Lord's sake, how many women do you think I'd beg to marry me? I don't even have to make promises of small film parts to get most women. I still don't know why I bother with you.'

  'Because I won't fall into bed?' Celia asked, smiling at him. 'That makes me different?'

  'Because you're beautiful. If I directed you in my films, you'd be better than Janet Gaynor with her new-fangled Academy award, believe me.'

  'You don't say I can act,' Celia said, annoyed.

  'I don't care a damn whether you can act or not. You can look, the tests showed that, and that's all I need to make you a star.'

  'Surely I have to be able to act,' Celia demanded, intrigued.

  'Not like Sarah Bernhart. Sure, you have to be able to do better than a block of marble, but it's the director's job, and the cameraman's, to show the acting.'

  'What part?' Celia demanded.

  'How do you mean?'

  'I want a contract for a specific part, a good one I approve of.'

  'One of your English women? I've always fancied doing one of those old Shakespeare plays. Juliet, perhaps? I have a good Romeo in mind.'

  Celia's eyes gleamed. 'I've always wanted to play Juliet. Hank, would you really make that as a film for me?'

  'Sure, if that's what it takes. But a couple of minor parts first to get you established. Wait until the sound is better, to take advantage of your voice.'

  'OK,' Celia said at last. 'Two, only two, smaller parts, then Juliet. And three more films after that, good leading parts. When you've signed me up for those, I'll come with you to Reno or wherever.'

  Hank chuckled and pulled her close. 'There's my girl. Don't give anything away, always see you get payment first.'

  'Will Gilbert have to be there?'

  'Gilbert?'

  'My husband. I don't know where he is.'

  'Leave that to the lawyers. That's why we pay them. Now, to seal our contracts, let's go to bed.'

  Celia grinned and shook her head. 'Contracts first, Reno second, and when I have your ring on my finger, bed.'

  *

  Agnes was bored. Once more Adam had been away, this time for more than a week, and as usual she had no idea when he'd return. Her parents had gone to Stafford for a few days to visit her aunt. Few of her friends cared to travel so far out of Stratford to visit her at Thornley Grange, and Adam had refused to buy her a little car. She had to travel on the omnibus or train to visit them. He told her to drive the trap, but she was nervous when the horse shied at the increasing number of motor cars and vans using the roads. She didn't care to ride her horse, since then she wasn't able to show off her new gowns. She sighed. She'd answer a few letters. She got out her beautiful tooled leather writing case, one of her wedding pr
esents, and sorted through the letters awaiting replies. She'd write first to Celia. That always made her feel better, somehow. She unscrewed the cap of her new fountain pen, and started.

  'Dear Celia,.

  'I'm sorry it's been so long since I wrote to you. I was so excited to hear your news, and hope you and Hank will be very happy. Was it fun being married in Reno? I didn't know it was so easy to get divorced and married in America. And you say Gilbert didn't even know. That will be a surprise for him when the lawyers find him and tell him he's no longer your husband.

  'I sometimes wonder if it might be better if Adam and I could get divorced. Things are not much better than when I last wrote. He sold the house in Birmingham, and spends more time at home, but I think he hates me. He doesn't ever say he loves me, not even when he – you know. He told me he wanted an heir, but I'm sure he just wants to make me pregnant for some peculiar sort of satisfaction of his own. He still doesn't believe I was having his child when he married me. I sometimes wonder if he even believes it could have been someone else who made me pregnant then. As if I would have let them. It was only Adam I ever loved, but he won't believe me. I wish you were here and we could have those long chats like we used to. It isn't the same in letters which other people might read. Not that Adam reads mine, I don't mean that. I don't think he cares enough to want to know anything about me. He isn't very kind, and he doesn't make any secret of his collection of photographs and newspaper cuttings.

  'I haven't told you about them, have I? I couldn't have, I don't think it had started when I last wrote. He gets all the newspapers which report the plays your sister is in. I won't mention her name, I blame her for everything! He must pay someone to send them to him, from every town where her company goes. I don't know how he finds out where they are, but he gets programmes and publicity photographs too. He pastes them all into a huge scrapbook, and sometimes he spends the whole evening just looking at them. It's usually those evenings he wants to – well, sleep in my room. I think he goes to see her too, but as he never tells me where he's going I can't be certain. I used to wonder if they were still – but I don't think so, because when he's been away he's always in a much worse temper than usual, and then he's a little bit rough with me.

  'What I really dread is the next Shakespeare Festival here in Stratford. By the way, did you hear that Archibald Flower was knighted in January? I sneak a look at the cuttings sometimes, just so that I know where she is, and she's been in a big play in London, the leading part, and I dread it if she's here for this year's Festival. The local papers are full of it too, so I can't get away from her! They're making a dreadful fuss about local girl who ought to come back in a leading role.

  'I bought a new outfit last week. It's very smart, a deep olive green costume with a belt and a straight skirt. I'm thinking of having my hair cut short and permanently waved, but in the last photograph of your sister she'd done her hair that way, and I can't bear Adam to even suspect I'm trying to copy her. I'm not, it's just fashionable, but he'd never believe me.

  'I'm looking forward to seeing you in your films. Do write and tell me all about making them. And about Hank. You didn't say much about him, but it's very exciting to have my best friend married to a big film director, and about to become a famous star. I shall boast dreadfully. I must finish now, I have hundreds of letters to answer, but I haven't felt like it for weeks, I've been too miserable.

  'Love from your devoted friend,.

  'Agnes Thorn.'

  *

  Rosa threw down the script. She couldn't concentrate. She'd been playing the part of Juliana for weeks now, and the critics had raved about her, predicting a glittering future for this new, beautiful young actress. But she was bored doing the same part six nights a week. She seemed to have lost the ability to learn new parts, trapped for so long in one, however successful it was. Instead of the words of this new play she was starring in next month, she kept seeing Max's face on the page.

  She could forget him, some of the time, when she was exceptionally busy. At night, though, when she was in bed, she couldn't stop thinking about him, longing to be in his arms again. She never thought about Adam except with guilt and remorse. Or anger. He would not leave her alone, and she'd seen him at the theatre last night. She knew he'd try to contact her, as he did every few weeks, and plead for forgiveness for whatever he'd done to offend her. He simply would not accept that their brief affair was over. Max was different. She hadn't heard a word from him. She knew from Celia that he was in Hollywood, and so was Gloria de Vries. No doubt they were still enjoying one another's bodies.

  Angrily Rosa picked up the script again. She didn't want to think about Max, especially not when that meant thinking of him with Gloria. She forced herself to concentrate. She had just managed to learn one speech when the doorbell rang.

  She opened the door and found Gilbert Meadows outside.

  'Gilbert? Come in. How did you find me? It's been such a long time. How are you?'

  He looked, she thought with concern, terrible. He had always been a dapper man, particular about his clothes and his personal grooming, but now he looked as though he had slept in his clothes, and though his moustache had gone, to suit prevailing fashion, he hadn't shaved for several days.

  'I still have a few friends in the theatre,' he said with a wry grin. 'I've been watching your success for more than a year, and I got your address from someone in the cast with you. You aren't annoyed?'

  'Of course not. Would you like some tea?'

  'Thanks, I don't seem to have eaten yet today.'

  'I'll make some toast, I didn't have lunch either.'

  Gilbert leant against the kitchen door as Rosa filled the kettle and lit the gas. Then she sliced some bread and handed him the plates and a long toasting fork. 'I can smell it already.'

  'It's only a gas fire, I'm afraid. None of that lovely smoky flavour you get with bread toasted by a wood fire. Go and start. I'll bring the butter and we'll picnic on the hearthrug. I've often wondered how you were, what you were doing,' she said as she brought the teapot and cups on a tray and sat down beside him on a small pouffe.

  'Since Celia left me?' he asked. 'You know she's divorced me now?'

  'Yes. We still write. I'm sorry.'

  He shrugged. 'It was wonderful before we married, then it all began to go wrong. I could never have kept her, I know that. I believe she only came with me because I could help her get a start on the professional stage.'

  'I'm sure she loved you, in her own way,' Rosa said, distressed for his obvious pain.

  He turned the slice of bread and held it to the fire again. 'Maybe. But she was ambitious, and that fat slob Willy helped her up another step. Now it's this film director. I wonder how long he'll last?'

  'I understand he's been married twice before already,' Rosa said. 'It may be he who gets tired first this time.'

  'Well, she won't come back to me, and I've accepted it. I've been a fool, let myself go, been unreliable. That's lost me parts I would have got in the past, and now I have to start from the bottom again. I know this is a cheek, but I came to ask if my famous sister-in-law would help me.'

  'Give me that slice, or it'll be burnt.' Rosa began to spread butter on the toast. 'I'm going into a new play soon. All the parts are cast, but there might be an understudy part which would suit you. Here, you have this slice.'

  'Thanks.' He began to eat ravenously and Rosa gently took the toasting fork from him. 'I'd take anything,' he mumbled, and wiped the butter from his chin. 'That was good. I used to love hot buttered toast in front of the nursery fire when I was a child.'

  'There's a read-through tomorrow morning, come with me then. I'll speak to the director. I'm also doing one part in the next Stratford Festival. I'm sure Mr Bridges-Adams would like to have you in his company, if he knew you were available.'

  'Rosa, you're a brick.'

  'What have you been doing?' Rosa asked, and they chatted while they finished the toast.

  Gilbert stood
up to leave. 'I'd better let you finish learning your lines.'

  'Where are you staying?' Rosa asked, suddenly suspicious.

  He grinned at her. 'I haven't sunk to station waiting rooms yet. I'm still just about respectable enough to be allowed into good hotels, where they have secluded corners and deep armchairs. They can be quite comfortable when there's nothing else.'

  'Don't you have any money?'

  'I spent my last quid on the fare to London. One way. But I am not scoundrel enough to sponge off you, Rosa, I didn't come to borrow money.'

  'The sofa's more comfortable than an armchair,' she said slowly. 'Please stay. If you like you can earn your keep by helping me learn my lines. Somehow I can't do it alone.'

  'Won't you feel compromised? You have to think of your reputation.'

  'What reputation? Actresses don't expect to have that luxury. Anyway, you're my brother-in-law.'

  'Ex. If you mean it, I'd be grateful. I was beginning to worry about my bristles. Thanks, Rosa. Why couldn't Celia have been a ministering angel too? I'll cook for you if you don't want to eat out. I'm a dab hand at toast, and I can boil an egg too. God, I knew acting was a precarious life, but I never expected to have to accept favours from a girl.'

  *

  'You're no fun these days,' Gloria complained petulantly. She took off her swimming hat and sat on a chair beside the pool. Max moved his drawing pad out of the way of the water she was scattering about her. 'What is it with you? Peter's on a trip to New York, and you won't even escort me to a party.'

  Max sighed. 'I thought you understood, Gloria, that's all over now. It was over long before we came out here.'

  'When your precious wife decided she'd had everything out of you she wanted, and took herself back to England.'

  'In any case, I'm too busy for partying.'

  'You say. Won't you accept all she wanted was some miracle cure for her crazy brother? When it didn't work she couldn't face life with you.'