Читать книгу The Ruby Redfort Collection: 4-6: Feed the Fear; Pick Your Poison; Blink and You Die - Lauren Child - Страница 50

SHE PICKED UP THE PHONE AND DIALLED RED’S NUMBER. She got lucky – Mrs Monroe answered. ‘Sadie, it’s Ruby, I wondered if you could help me out.’

‘Sure, I’ll try,’ replied Sadie. ‘What is it you need?’

‘It’s a kinda weird request but I was wondering if there was any way your friend Frederick Lutz could do me a favour. It’s just when I met him at the Scarlet Pagoda costume benefit he said if I ever wanted to get my make-up done for a special occasion then he would do it.’

‘If Frederick said that then it’s a done deal,’ said Sadie. ‘He never backs out of a promise.’

‘The thing is,’ said Ruby, ‘it’s kinda time-sensitive.’

‘How time-sensitive?’ asked Sadie.

‘Like now,’ said Ruby.

‘Ah,’ said Sadie, ‘no wriggle room?’

‘None,’ said Ruby, ‘I’m kinda desperate.’

‘That bad, huh? Hang in there Ruby, and I’ll get right back to you.’

Ruby didn’t have to wait long, Sadie called barely seven minutes later.

‘Frederick would be delighted to see you, get over there as quick as you can.’ She gave Ruby the address and wished her luck with whatever the emergency was. This was one of the things Ruby liked about Sadie, she didn’t ask too many questions. When Ruby reached the payphone on the corner of Cedarwood, she called Ada Borland’s studio and left another message from her “mother”.

‘Hi, this is Sabina Redfort again. Sorry for the confusion but it turns out I was over-dramatising. . . as usual. . .. I know. I’m a total worry worm –’ pause for laughter – ‘really, it’s wart? Well there you go, I’m a worry wart. Anyway, my daughter will be with you after all, boy that kid is a real trooper, an inspiration to us all.’

Ruby arrived at 119 Derilla Drive to find Frederick Lutz sitting on a lawn chair in his driveway. On his lap was a dachshund. He raised a hand in greeting and slowly heaved himself up from his chair. ‘Come on in,’ he said. ‘This is Paullie,’ he added, indicating the dachshund.

The dachschund raised its head and regarded Ruby sleepily.

‘Hey Paullie,’ said Ruby.

Lutz stood, lifting Paullie carefully. He set the dog down on the grass, and Paullie stood on his tiny legs waiting.

‘Come,’ said Lutz.

He led Ruby into his workshop, a spare room that he had converted into a kind of salon, every surface covered with movie memorabilia. He sat her down in a swivel chair in front of a brightly lit mirror, and took in the horror show that was her face.

‘So I see we are starting with Halloween and heading backwards. Kind of unusual for me; I usually start off with pretty and head on in the other direction.’

‘Yeah, I know, it’s bad huh – is there anything you can do with it?’

‘Can I do anything? Can I do anything? Kid, you’re talking to Frederick Lutz here, course I can do anything! Never fear, I’ll have you looking like Shirley Temple in the blink of an eye – that’s the look we’re going for right?’ he winked.

Ruby smiled. ‘Well, something along those lines.’

The Hollywood make-up genius worked on Ruby for a good couple of hours and while he worked he talked. Mainly he talked about the old days when the industry was dominated by sirens of the silver screen – Erica Grey, Bette Davis, Lauren Bacall.

‘They were some women, I can tell you,’ said Frederick, ‘they don’t make ’em like that any more.’

The make-up artist’s walls were crammed with framed photographs and posters of the actors he had worked with and the movies he had worked on and stuff he had collected over the years. There were no end of big names. One poster that caught her eye was the one for The Cat that Got the Canary. The image was of the Little Yellow Shoes, and Margo’s lower legs were all that could be seen of the actress. A black cat walked off to the right of the picture, a yellow feather in its mouth. It was a striking image. The poster was signed by the actress herself.

‘So did you meet her?’ asked Ruby, pointing to the poster.

‘Oh, many times,’ said Frederick. ‘One fabulous lady, too bad she married that George Katsel.’

‘Not nice?’ asked Ruby.

Frederick scrunched his face into a sour expression. ‘Not nice at all, only interested in himself. It was all about him and what he wanted; never did a thing for anyone else.’

Ruby winced – the words so closely echoed her mother’s.

‘He had magnetic appeal though, it was hard for anyone to resist him when he set his baby blues on something.’

‘Old George sounds like quite the egomaniac,’ said Ruby.

‘You better believe it,’ said Frederick, shaking his head. ‘They called him the Cat, because he was so darned lucky. Katsel always got what he wanted, always the Cat that got the cream.’ Frederick paused, to make a careful adjustment to Ruby’s foundation. ‘I met Margo after that time, long after she broke it off with George and much later on in her career when she was already quite famous and I can’t think of a bad word to say about her, except I wish she hadn’t been so darned tall.’

‘Funny. . .’ considered Ruby. ‘I always thought she would be kinda small, more like my height, well taller than me but, you know.’

‘Are you kidding?’ said Frederick.

‘She looks little in The Cat that Got the Canary,’ said Ruby.

‘Smoke and mirrors,’ said Frederick, pausing for a minute, to review his latest creation. ‘If I needed to touch up her make-up on set, I had to stand on a crate. I know I’m not the tallest guy in town but Margo, she must have been 5' 10", 5' 11". Making Margo look small was the magic of the movies!’ Frederick Lutz chuckled and dusted Ruby’s face with some bronzer. ‘Meanwhile, making your face look like it never came into contact with a sidewalk is the magic of make-up!’

And when Ruby turned to view her face in the mirror, she saw that he wasn’t lying. . . she looked just like she usually looked, her face restored, not a visible scratch on it.