Greb3021
Synopsis
An actress who came to fame during the heyday of the Hollywood studio system looks back on her life after the filming of her final film has ended.
Excerpt
One spring day whilst exploring Los Angeles, she stepped into a smoky diner and, after ordering, sat down at a table covered in a red and white checkered cloth. She ran a quick eye around her surroundings and smiled politely at the man sitting at a table opposite her. He was reading a newspaper but kept glancing up at Eve as she drank her tea, something that both amused and annoyed her. He was a handsome and well dressed of about 35 who would have seemed almost dignified had it not been for the mop of unruly dark hair which kept falling over his eyes as he read. Although she would have been more than happy to have someone to talk to, he made no effort to engage Eve in conversation and so, with her usual self-confidence, she decided to take the initiative. After all, she thought, he’s rather attractive. Flipping open her cigarette case, she took out a cigarette and leaned over the table in the man’s direction.
“Excuse me,” she said in her clipped accent, “but I seem to have misplaced my lighter. You wouldn’t be able to help out a lady in distress, would you?”
The man looked up at her, amused. He fumbled in his pocket and produced a packet of matches which he stood up and passed to her.
Eve flashed him a charming smile. “Thank you very much."
He nodded before returning to his paper but Eve wasn’t about to stop there. She sidled across to his table, pulled out a chair and lit her cigarette.
“You don’t mind, do you? You know you might talk to me instead of glancing at me over the top of your paper. I don’t bite; I hope I don’t look like I do!”
The man set his newspaper down, looked Eve squarely in the face and said in a rich, deep voice with a decidedly English accent,
“You know, when I lived in England the women were decidedly less outspoken.” A mischievous smile played across his face as he saw Eve's surprise.
“Well I never! An American diner is the last place in the world one expects to meet a fellow Englishman! I’d never have guessed you came from home in a million years.”
“I suppose I do blend in rather well. I've been out here for eleven years; England must have changed a great deal since then. When I left the country was still in a mess after the War. But from what I've heard, a lot has changed since then..”
“Oh it has! And definitely for the better, at least that's what I think; the older generation aren't too sure. Even though it's been so long since the War, I think they're all secretly hoping that one day life will return back to how it was before but it never will.”
"No, I suppose not." The man mused thoughtfully.
A moment of silence reigned as the two of them dwelled on memories of their past, memories of England.
Wistfully, Eve pulled on her cigarette. “Do you miss it?”
“Miss what?”
“England.”
“Oh. Well, yes I suppose I do. Sometimes. I don’t really have too much time to think about it.”
“I do. I’ve only been over here for 9 months but I miss it really terribly sometimes. I love the freedom of American society but now and then I find myself longing for the rigidity of England’s. I can't think why because I absolutely abhorred it when I was there. Silly, isn’t it?”
Another moment of silence. Eva stubbed out her cigarette in the ash tray and stared disinterestedly out of the grubby window. A feeling of gloom had settled over her and the excitement that had been flowing through her veins only a few minutes previously was all but gone. She sighed.
“I’d best be on my way. It’s been very pleasant talking to you.” She added as an afterthought.
“The pleasure's all mine. I'm glad to have met you."
As Eve stood up, she held out her hand to the man. “In case you’re ever in need of a Englander, you can find me at Chapel House Apartments. Just ask for Marie Evelyn Mortimer.”
With a final glance at the slightly taken aback Englishman, Eve walked out of the diner. Indeed, she was rather taken aback herself at her forwardness. As she sat in the cab on the way back to her apartment, she reflected on her behaviour. It was as though her sudden longing for the familiar soil of her home country had taken away all her propriety. Her love of freedom and independence shrank at the idea of returning to the stuffiness of the circle her family moved in, but all the same, it was altogether very agreeable to talk to someone who understood one’s country and customs. It made her feel less alone, although she was loathe to admit even to herself that she felt even the slightest pang of homesickness in this huge, bustling country. Her sense of humour had not deserted her, however, and she chuckled to think of her sister’s face if she had seen how she’d acted just now. She certainly wasn’t the demure English rose that her family had hoped she would grow up to be and it was doubtful if she had ever been.
