Page 7 of The Gathering Storm

‘It’s a shit show, is what it is,’ said Estelle, ‘and nobody’s going to come out smelling like roses. But we’ll fix it between us. Now get out of here and let me get on with my job. I got a thousand favours to call in.’

Beanie had been a mine of information. Rose’s companions in the Parrot had been Don Acres, Kent Millburn, Tab Minkle, Mimi Cates and Jeannie Hooper – members of a large circle of young film actors, including Dean Cornwell, who in various combinations had been getting a reputation – at least on the drivers’ circuit – for wild behaviour. Tab Minkle, brooding star of Race to the Devil, he of dark forelock, curling upper lip, and smouldering eyes, was the principal hell-raiser. With a reluctance to meet Lennie’s eyes in the mirror, Beanie mentioned that Tab Minkle’s driver had told him the two of them were ‘having a walk-out’ – his euphemism for an affair. Six weeks before, she’d been seeing Kent Millburn.

‘It don’t mean nothing,’ he went on. ‘She don’t care a rap about either of ’em. I reckon she’s just sore about Mist’ Howard.’

‘Who’s Mr Howard?’

Beanie’s eyes opened wide. ‘Why, Mr Leslie Howard, sir, who else?’ he said deliberately. ‘Played Sir Percy Blakeney in The Scarlet Pimple-nell?’

‘I’ve seen the movie.’

‘Starring opp’site Miss Merle Oberon? She’s English too, like Mist’ Howard. After that Pimple movie MGM signed her up, and now she—’

‘What has Leslie Howard to do with Rose?’ Lennie interrupted him before he got too far down the rapids.

‘Well, sir, I’m gettin’ to it. Last year they was having a walk-out. That was after he stopped seein’ Miss Oberon – you know how she played Anne Boleyn in The Private Life of Henry VIII? And our Miss Rose, she was Anne Boleyn in The Falcon and the Rose? So Mist’ Howard’s driver, he reckoned Mist’ Howard kinda stuck on the character.’ He chuckled. ‘Ain’t that a kick? He’s a very romantic gentleman, Mist’ Howard – and a real ladies’ man. I reckon it’s that accent they fall for. Makes everything you say sound classy.’

‘But he must be twenty years older than Rose.’

‘Yessir, but Miss Oberon only twenty-five. It don’t matter in Hollywood.’

‘You say it’s all over between them now?’

‘Well, sir, Miss Rose was partying too hard and I reckon Mist’ Howard scared there gonna be scandal, so he skedaddled. But he’s over to New York right now, predoocin’ a play on Broadway, so it’d be over anyhow. But Miss Rose, I reckon she was fonder of him than he was of her. Maybe that’s why she been cuttin’ rigs jus’ lately. To show like she ain’t heartbroke.’

Lennie shook his head, aghast at how much he had missed. ‘So tell me,’ he said at last, ‘what’s wrong with Miss Rose’s marriage? Why is she having affairs when she’s not been married a year?’

‘I don’t like to say,’ Beanie murmured, ‘but Mist’ Cornwell, he ain’t no ladies’ man, no, sir, not at all.’

‘Mr Rosecrantz said Mr Cornwell’s a troubled soul.’

‘Dat one way of puttin’ it.’ He hesitated a moment. ‘Word is, he pitches for the B team, if you get my drift.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Beanie gained confidence now. ‘And he likes low comp’ny. Mr Cornwell’s driver, he takes him to all kind o’ dives. Pool halls. Bars down at the docks.’

‘And Rose knows about it?’

‘That’s why she gone a bit crazy, that and Mist’ Howard.’ He looked anxious. ‘She gonna be okay, though?’

‘No thanks to you,’ Lennie said roughly. But he didn’t blame Beanie. He blamed himself.

Rose looked tiny and fragile in the high hospital bed. She raised exhausted, blue-smudged eyes to Lennie, and slow tears leaked out. ‘I thought he loved me. He said he loved me.’ Lennie took hold of her small, damp hand. ‘But it was all just publicity. He only married me for publicity.’

He realised then that it was Dean she was crying for, not Leslie Howard – which was a relief of sorts. ‘I expect he did love you, honey. After all, he could have married anyone, but he chose you.’

‘Because we’d worked together on Falcon.’ She accepted his handkerchief and blew her nose. ‘I guess when you act being in love day after day, you can start thinking you really are.’

‘If you’ve learned that, you’ve learned something important,’ Lennie said.

‘But we really liked each other,’ she mourned. ‘I just didn’t know about – you know what. I’d never even heard about that sort of thing. How does it work, anyway? I don’t understand.’

‘You don’t need to know. What we have to do now is sort out the mess.’

‘I suppose Dean and I will have to split up,’ she said, in a small voice.

‘Don’t you want to? Are you still in love with him?’