how was Alice supposed to ‘make the most of’ the house if Lili was no longer in it? Now it was just a collection of empty rooms, each one haunted by memories.
‘You’re really going to miss her, aren’t you?’
Alice scrubbed away a tear as Jake appeared behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. All day they’d been in close contact, stumbling over each other and getting in each other’s way as they cleared the house – Alice’s house, she reminded herself – of the things Lili had left to others. It wasn’t much, but it had still been hard work. Jake’s presence had been a welcome distraction, though, and Alice had found herself inexplicably drawn to him. Of course it could simply be that he was exactly her type – lean and toned, dark and broodingly handsome, with vintage good looks. She could almost imagine Lili had hand-picked him for just that reason.
‘Lili was my best friend,’ Alice told him. ‘She was my hero.’
Jake gazed at the photos on the wall, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. ‘You look like her, you know.’
‘I wish!’
‘I’m serious.’ He took one down – a classic 20s glamour shot – and held it up to Alice’s face to compare the two. ‘See? I was right. Change the hair and make-up and you could be her.’
Alice snatched the photo away and looked into the eyes of a Lili her own age. Jake was right. The resemblance was striking. How had she never noticed it before? She felt intensely flattered.
‘So she was an actress?’
‘Yeah. A proper Old Hollywood star. Mostly silent films, but a few talkies later on in the 30s and 40s.’
‘Lili Wessex. Hmm. How come I’ve never heard of her?’
‘She never really got the break she deserved. She always claimed it’s because she wasn’t much of an actress, but I’ve seen loads of her films and she’s fantastic. Every bit as good as Louise Brooks or Greta Garbo or any of the big stars of the time.’
They were both silent for a while as they admired the photos. Alice stole a look at Jake when he didn’t know he was being watched. He really was attractive. She hadn’t had a boyfriend in two years and she supposed it was loneliness that made her venture a suggestion. ‘Would you like to watch one of her films? With me?’
Jake smiled as though he’d been wishing, but not daring to hope, that Alice would ask. ‘I’d love that,’ he said.
‘She left me the house, and that includes my favourite room.’
Jake looked intrigued and Alice was happy to be able to play the cryptic one for a change. She took him by the hand and led him to a door at the end of the corridor. His face was a picture as she unlocked and opened it to show him a tiny private cinema, complete with antique projector. A shelf of film canisters lined the back wall.
‘This is amazing,’ Jake said, looking genuinely excited. ‘Do you know, I’ve only ever seen one silent movie in my life.’
‘Which one?’
‘Phantom of the Opera, with Lon Chaney.’
‘Oh, Lili loved him! She got to work with him once. She said he was a real gentleman. But he never went out. Apparently he hated the whole Hollywood lifestyle and … what’s that?’
Jake turned to see what she was looking at and shrugged. ‘I have no idea. I’ve never been in here, remember?’
Sitting in front of the curtained screen was a large cardboard box. There was no writing on the outside, but an envelope was taped to the top. Alice’s name was written there, in Lili’s hand.
‘That’s funny,’ Alice said. She removed the envelope and fingered the flowery lettering.
Jake smiled. ‘Well, aren’t you going to open it?’
She tore the envelope open and withdrew a sheet of paper.
‘Dearest Alice,’ she read aloud, ‘this is the Real Me. This is my true legacy. Remember your promise.’
She raised her eyes from the note to stare at Jake in bewilderment. But only for a moment. Then she was tearing open the box.
‘What the hell …?’
It was filled with film cans.
‘“My true legacy”,’ Jake echoed. ‘Are they lost films?’
‘They must be. She made me promise to … we made a sort of pact and … I just can’t believe this.’
Alice picked up one of the canisters and read the faded label, scrawled in old-fashioned handwriting. ‘Good-Time Girl. I’ve never heard of it, but then I’m no expert on silent films.’
She put it aside and took out another. Then another. The canisters were smaller than the ones on the back wall. ‘Deleted scenes?’ she wondered aloud. ‘Or maybe they’re just shorts.’
Jake read out the titles. ‘A Choice Bit of Calico. Bootleg Betty. What the Chambermaid Saw.’
Alice shook her head in disbelief. ‘Why didn’t she ever show me these? She must have known I’d want to see them.’
‘Well, she obviously wants you to see them now. Let’s put one on.’
Alice picked up the topmost can and carefully removed the film reel. She threaded it through the projector and turned it on.
She and Jake made themselves comfortable in the plush cinema chairs as the grainy film stuttered into life on the screen. After some spots and pops and scratches, a jittery title card came up: ‘WHAT THE CHAMBERMAID SAW’.
An elegant couple strolled along a street with vintage cars moving silently in the background. An intertitle introduced them as Mr and Mrs Pinkering. Their movements seemed comically speeded up and Alice giggled in anticipation of some Chaplinesque pratfall. But a clumsy splice made the film jump directly to the pair’s bedroom, where they began to undress.
It looked like the work of an amateur, but the director clearly had artistic aspirations, as the camera panned back and through a dark tunnel that revealed itself to be a keyhole. The classic voyeur’s point of view. The couple were now in their underclothes and Alice was surprised at just how much of Mrs Pinkering was on display. Her nipples were clearly visible beneath her thin shift.
Then the shot cut to the spying chambermaid and Alice gasped in delight at the familiar face. ‘It’s Lili!’
Then she gasped again as she realised what the chambermaid was doing. One hand had vanished beneath her short, frilly skirt and the camera zoomed in to show it moving deep inside her vintage bloomers. Alice blushed to the roots of her hair as the realisation of Lili’s secret hit her like a bomb.
‘Oh, my God,’ she whispered.
Jake looked just as shocked. He had slid down in his seat and was doing his best to stifle a grin. When Alice met his eyes, they both burst into helpless laughter.
‘I guess that would explain why she wasn’t welcome in mainstream Hollywood,’ Jake said.
Alice nodded. She was shocked, certainly, but not offended. That her great-grandmother had been a vintage porn star was perfectly in keeping with the woman’s feisty personality.
The film was really getting interesting now. Mrs Pinkering was pointing at the camera, at the keyhole, and there was a campy reaction shot of the naughty chambermaid as the door was flung open by Mr Pinkering. In case his outrage was in question, a helpful intertitle appeared: ‘BAD GIRL!’
The man dragged the protesting maid inside and it was obvious what was about to happen. Alice squirmed in her seat. Part of her desperately wanted to shut off the film and finish watching it – and all the others – later, by herself. But she glanced sidelong at her companion, who looked every bit as aroused as he was fascinated, and decided it would be more fun to watch