Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool Read Online Free Page B

drizzly and everything looked grey. Now, the sky was a diamond; the buildings and the roads, the cars and the
people all glistened. Palm trees, plants and flowers, the colours of which I’d only seen in a paintbox, were new to me. The names of the roads excited me: Sunset Boulevard, La Cienega, La
Brea and Vine. Everything was enchanting, even the people. They all looked beautiful, healthy and clean, dry-cleaned and rich, very rich. Especially in Bel Air, where every other house looked like
a
Beverly Hillbillies
mansion.
    We were driving through Brentwood when Gloria spotted the house. It was an impressive-looking building, owned by the writer and producer Cy Howard, Gloria’s third husband and father of her
daughter Paulette. The marriage ended in divorce. Their union lasted for a number of years between Gloria’s second marriage – to Nicholas Ray, the brilliant and innovative film director
by whom Gloria had a son called Tim – and her fourth marriage to her former stepson, Nicholas Ray’s son Tony Ray, by whom Gloria had two more children. It was a family of complicated
relationships.
    ‘What do you think of the house, Peter? Do you like it?’ Gloria whispered quickly.
    We had to peer through the protective screen of tall trees so that I could get a proper look, Gloria didn’t want to be ‘seen’ unannounced. I almost felt that at any moment we
would be set upon by a pack of hounds and taken before the master on suspicion of being vagabonds and thieves. I was reminded of a time in my childhood in Liverpool when my brothers, John and
Frank, took me on one of their escapades to steal apples from the gardens of the houses where the rich people lived. Once we were discovered, and because I was the youngest and couldn’t run
as fast as they, I was left hanging on a wall and was the one that got caught.
    ‘Yes. I do like it,’ I whispered back. ‘It’s nice. Did you like living there?’
    ‘Yeah, it was fun.’ Gloria took my arm and we stood away from the trees. ‘Betty and Bogey lived right over there,’ she added, pointing to the mansion next door.
    ‘That must have been incredible,’ I said. ‘Did you see a lot of them?’
    ‘Oh no, not really, Peter. Not when I was married to Cy. How often do you run across the neighbours? But we used to spend a lot of time together when I was married to Nick. He and Bogey
started up a film company. And I worked alongside him in
In a Lonely Place.
He taught me little tricks; “Just keep it in the shadows, Gloria,” he used to say. “Let the
camera come to you.” I liked him. A few times he called me up.’ She folded her arms and thought for a while. ‘We used to go out on the boat, stuff like that. It was nice. Bogey
just loved that boat.’ Gloria clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. ‘Hmm,’ she winced. ‘That Betty. She always looked so good.’
    We sat back in the car and Gloria put her head out of the window to have a last look.
    ‘Cy Howard just loved this place. He’s so proud of it. He adored it.’
    ‘Why did you leave?’ I asked.
    She thought for a while and then miraculously negotiated a three point turn.
    ‘I guess Cy and I just wanted different things from life. Who knows?’ She bumped the car back out of the difficult entrance to the driveway. ‘But I’m sure glad that I got
that divorce, Peter. I might have had an accident just driving home!’
    The car squealed and tilted to one side as she turned the bend and careered on down the winding roads that led to the coast.
    Gloria lived in a caravan. She called it a trailer. Positioned along the Pacific Coast Highway not far from Pacific Palisades, between Santa Monica and Malibu, it had a stunning view of the
ocean. After living in luxury houses in exclusive parts of Beverly Hills, now Gloria much preferred the trailer. She enjoyed it as a retreat on her visits from London and New York.
    ‘There’s no way that I’ll have a heart attack trying to keep up the