Читать книгу Goddess of Love Incarnate - Leslie Zemeckis - Страница 17

CHAPTER SEVEN

By 1935 Cordy was racing up and down the coast of California. He was so popular that he was asked to endorse many products.

Cordy spent a season in Camden in New South Wales, Australia, winning and making large sums of money.

A British racing scout recruited Cordy and his team to join the English motorcycle circuit, promising him an increase in prize money. Cordy was excited and assumed Lili would be too.

She wasn’t. She was tired of being left behind. She busied herself at the restaurant and went on a few dates, spent hours at the movies and in the library reading Screenplay.

She missed Cordy and the excitement. She longed to escape the dusty roads and wide boulevards of her sleepy town. Then Cordy called from England.

He asked her to marry him.

She didn’t need to think twice. She was going to marry a semifamous—at least locally—man who would show her the glamorous life. She would escape Pasadena and the restaurant and Alice’s worry and Idella’s criticism, who had taken to declaring that Lili was a bad influence on her sisters. Lili’s head filled with thoughts of transforming herself into Mrs. Cordy Milne.

Surprisingly the entire family was thrilled for Lili.

Cordy wired money for a first-class ticket on the luxury liner the SS Manhattan.

Alice organized Idella and the girls to get together in the evenings and sew beautiful gowns for Lili’s trousseau. Alice paid for the material and they made chic suits, dresses, and ball gowns. They sat on the porch evenings and weekends and laughed while Ben slept in the bedroom. Even Idella lightened up. She complimented all her girls on their excellent sewing skills. Lili had bought yards of tulle. She was making a Venus de Milo–type dress. Also a white jersey dress to get married in. There would be hats, gloves, matching shoes, shorts, and sweaters. She needed so many things.

Lili was ecstatic. At eighteen she felt as if she was embarking on a life-changing adventure. Finally.

Lili packed a trunk in a whirlwind of nerves and terror. She wouldn’t know anyone on the voyage. A mixed blessing. She could be someone other than Marie Van Schaack. Soon she would be Marie Milne (though she supposedly also used Willis) She was about to set her slim foot into a new life and she couldn’t wait to see where it would lead her.

Would they continue to live in England? Would Cordy expect her to work? To follow him from meet to meet? There were a million questions she should have been asking, but didn’t. Nothing was going to hold her back from living the life she had dreamed of.

LILI FLEW TO NEW YORK—HER FIRST FLIGHT—ARRIVING TIRED AND hot, not to mention wiped out after the utter terror of flying. She would never like flying, preferring trains, but because her new passport arrived late she had no choice.

Cordy had reserved Lili a room at the San Moritz Hotel. Not yet six years old, the luxurious hotel sat directly across from Central Park at 50 Central Park South. Taxis and cars bustled by. The noise and the lights of the city lit up her mood.

Beautifully dressed men and women walked arm in arm, some swinging packages from Bergdorf’s department store. Others were walking silly little dogs on dainty chains. She had to feel all the country bumpkin. She had bleached her hair to its brightest incarnation to date, which drew attention from men in the streets.

The spacious lobby of the San Moritz was sumptuously furnished. On one wall hung a large painting of the resort town in the Swiss Alps, for which the very metropolitan hotel was named. The various guest rooms, suites, and especially the penthouse rooms had open windows where cooling breezes blew in from the park. The décor was opulent and designed to impress. And Lili was impressed.

On the thirty-first floor was a salon for dancing and dinner. Lili peeked her head in, admiring more oversized murals on the walls.

If she ran a bath in her room’s tub, it would be the biggest bath she had ever sunk into. She had never experienced such a luxury before. She was overwhelmed with feelings of—love? appreciation?—for Cordy. It was because of him that she was here. She opened her window and listened to the sounds below. Horses and carriages clomped by. Shouts and laughter floated up. The city was alive. She was headed toward something.

The next morning was a crisp, cool May day. She slept in—she would never be an early riser—ate, and walked in Central Park. In the afternoon, with trunks in tow, she hailed a cab for the port where she would board the SS Manhattan along with throngs of “rich people” anticipating the voyage on one of the most magnificent ships sailing the Atlantic.⁷²

In 1936 the SS Manhattan was one of the country’s most luxurious ocean liners. Passenger No. 568 was left speechless at the grandeur. The liner had the capacity to hold twelve hundred. There was a full orchestra playing somewhere. Lili would explore the many decks where couples, exquisitely dressed, strolled. Cabin waiters in white blazers rushed to and fro. Someone offered her a glass of champagne.

A siren blew, signaling it was time for visitors to come off before the ship sailed. Ribbons of multicolored confetti shot out over Lili and her glass of champagne as the great ship slowly pulled out of New York’s harbor. Dusk was falling as lights of the city begin to turn on. It was magical, like standing on a many-layered wedding cake. With the cool breeze lifting her hair and the tang of salt water in her nose she felt a sudden passion for life, joy overtaking her. She silently vowed she was going to live among luxury like this. This was the world she wanted. Always.

Up on the first-class desk she watched New York shrink as she said good-bye to everything; Pasadena, Jimmy, Third Street, it was all behind her. In the bar she ordered a very dry gin martini. A young woman on the brink of all life had to offer. “A passion for the joy of life overtook” her.⁷³

Because of a mix-up involving a senator that needed her cabin, Lili was forced to share a cabin with a woman “surly” and “green” who didn’t take to the ocean as well as Lili.⁷⁴

Lili was determined to stand out and it didn’t take long for the crew and guests to notice the lone gorgeous blonde who always had a ready smile to share. She was taller than most, prettier than most. Everyone was friendly, asking her if there was anything they could do for her. The first night she was given a message that the captain wanted her to dine at his table the following night. She had no idea this was a privilege not accorded to everyone. She casually accepted.

Lili couldn’t reach for a cigarette without someone appearing at her elbow to light it. She collected photographs of herself; seated at a bar, on the deck; laughing and drinking champagne. It was everything she had seen in the movies—and more.

FOR A GIRL UNTRAVELED YET RIPE FOR MAGIC, LILI REVELED IN HER newfound freedom. There was the sheer joy of not having to report to anyone. Alice had been a vigilant caregiver, walking her everywhere or having her sit with her at work. Lili hadn’t realized how much anger she had built up; she adored Alice, though she resented being suppressed.

Lili rose when she wanted. She didn’t have to tell anyone where she was going or what she was doing. If she wanted to smoke instead of eat, that was fine. If she wanted a dry gin martini, she ordered it.

Lili looking very Jean Harlow on board her first luxury liner

She took long walks on all eight passenger decks, past the swimming pool, around the full-sized tennis court, pausing in front of the kennels for the dogs on the sundeck. Two large smoke stacks painted blue and white with red stripes jutted up into the clear blue sky. All around midnight-blue waters surrounded like a skirt of velvet. Lili turned her face toward the sun.

The SS Manhattan was known to be so luxurious that competing liners renamed their first-class cabins “cabin class.” Lili was awed by the riches surrounding her. There was a smoking lounge with a fireplace. There was a library where she curled up with beautiful leather-bound books.

She was ensconced in a Louis XVI decorated cabin—with her roommate. The wood was polished hardwood paneling, a tiny but beautiful room with a window.

In the afternoon one could pop into the beauty parlor for a shampoo and set, or a manicure if a beautician was free.

She ate in the main dining room also decorated in the Louis XVI style with large murals. She wafted into the room beautifully made up in one of her homemade gowns. Perhaps she had to battle her innate shyness, or maybe she was feeling bold, already pretending to be someone else. Did she imagine herself as Garbo playing Queen Christina and this was her yacht? She would continually measure her actions against Garbo’s, wondering what Garbo would think, what Garbo would do in the same circumstances.

Lili sat at a table with an older couple. A steward poured her a glass of wine. Within minutes another steward brought over a cold bottle of Mumm champagne and a note. “With compliments, an admirer.”

“Give my thanks to the gentleman.”⁷⁵ (She noted Garbo would be proud of how calm she was.)

Five minutes later a tall man with slicked-back hair sauntered over and introduced himself.

In his fancy British accent he introduced himself as Maxwell Croft. The striking dark-haired and dark-eyed Croft made sure she knew he was a furrier, having a shop on London’s Bond Street.⁷⁶ Lili had no idea of the exclusivity of the street until later. Bond Street in central London was loaded with art dealers, antique shops, and expensive boutiques. Croft was twenty-two, London born, and came from a Jewish family. At six two, he towered over the image of her fiancé Cordy. She was enchanted.⁷⁷

Lili and her dinner companions dined on chicken gumbo, filet of sole, corned brisket of beef, and steamed savoy cabbage, food Lili most likely never had tasted before.

After dinner Maxwell took her arm and the couple strolled the deck. The air smelled sharp and tangy mixed with the musk of his cologne. At one of the bars they slipped in for coffee. They moved around the grand salon two-decks high. An orchestra was set up at one end of the cavernous room. There was “Sing, Sing, Sing,” Louis Prima’s new song, and “Ridin’ High” by Cole Porter.

Couples swirled arm and arm under a shallow dome in the center of the room. Ladies dressed in pretty pastel colors moved around them. But no two cut as dashing a pair as the tall blonde and her even taller escort. They proceeded to dance until the orchestra stopped, then another walk to her cabin, “star gazing.”⁷⁸

They parted late in the night. By the time Maxwell walked her to the door of her cabin, as he bent to kiss her, she knew she was in love.

They were inseparable after that. They drank coffees in the Veranda café decorated like Venice. It was a large room with more polished wood; waiters carried silver trays past windows clad in iron grill and painted columns. The café opened onto a game deck where passengers played shuffleboard.

For the first time she was reaping the benefits of her extraordinary beauty. She turned heads. It was the first time she would feel the full force of what good looks—what her kind of attractiveness, regal, reserved, tall, and sunny—could do. Lies came “easily” to Lili, though she thought of herself as an “inventor.”⁷⁹ She deliberately did not tell Maxwell she was engaged.

Celebration on the SS Manhattan

Afternoons she would lay in a skirt pulled above her knees, a short-sleeved sweater and round sunglasses on a chaise flirting with men until Maxwell showed up. She sat in a white bathing suit by the pool and accepted attention from the lifeguards. There was no shortage of someones wanting to buy her a drink or a coffee.

Lili and Maxwell stayed up late into the night with a young crowd sipping drinks and laughing. They would meet for cocktails at the bar, walk the decks smoking, and then dance the remainder of the night away. There was a nightcap as the sun rose out of the flat horizon. The group rarely slept.

Lili’s heart and head was filled with “romance, like from a novel or movie.”⁸⁰ The talk on everyone’s lips—as it was on two continents—was whether King Edward would marry that dreadful Wallis Simpson. To many, the American Wallis Simpson was a dreadful gold digger, to others; admirably stylish. One can assume Lili was on the side of style.

Maxwell invited Lili back to his cabin where they made love. Afterward they both saw blood staining the sheets. Possibly she’d just gotten her period, but Maxwell assumed he had just deflowered a virgin and immediately proposed.

She was thunderstruck by his honor. She realized she couldn’t live with Cordy after sleeping with Maxwell, who was a “man” and not a boy. She had fallen in love with the dashing and handsome Englishman—whom, like the advertisements for his shop, was good at “making women feel good—and looking good.” He was attentive and elegant, everything Cordy was not.

Lili took Maxwell’s hand and told him “Tomorrow’s my birthday.” Which it certainly was not, though it was only two weeks away. The next night was the “Captain’s gala” but it was Lili who would be celebrated.⁸¹

As Lili entered the dining room on Sunday, May 24, the band struck up “Happy Birthday.” She was wearing a dress she had made. The bust was tight and the skirt full, barely brushing the floor in layers of sky blue, purple, deep maroon, and shell pink tulle. She smiled, delighted to have stolen the captain’s party.

EVERYONE RAISED THEIR GLASSES OF CHAMPAGNE TO TOAST HER NINETEENTH birthday. Guests wore party hats, Lili a pillbox. The menu read, “Special Dinner Given to Miss Marie Van Schaack on the occasion of her Birthday.” Her guests at her table were Mrs. Walter M. Holdstein, Miss Bettie Maranteete, Mr. Erwin Schaefer, Mr. M. Luizzi, Mr. J. L. Lindner. There was no mention of Maxwell, no doubt assigned to a different table.⁸²

The meal began with beluga malossol caviar, followed by consommé, frog legs, duck with an apple and raisin dressing accompanied by green peas and potatoes, followed by an avocado pear salad, and finally a chocolate soufflé birthday cake. Lili would keep the menu carefully pressed into her scrapbook for years until finally ripping the page out and sending it to a fan.

When the cake was wheeled out, another rousing “Happy Birthday” rose from the room.

“Beautiful Cheri.” Maxwell handed her a beautifully wrapped gift. The card read, “In memory of the pleasant and amusing evenings with infinite love to continue.” It was a delicate gold bracelet, presumably her first piece of jewelry from an admirer.

She ached to continue to live in this “grand setting.”⁸³

But reality was fast encroaching. As tug boats slowly pulled the boat toward the English coast and a waiting fiancé, twinges of “old loyalty” pinched at Lili.⁸⁴ She didn’t want to hurt Cordy, but she wanted Maxwell. Lili gathered her things, wrapped her coat around her shoulders, and hopped on the transporter boat that would take her to her unsuspecting fiancé, unsure if she would ever see Maxwell again.