By Myself and Then Some (25 page)

One night he called from his house to hear my voice (he said), he’d been drinking heavily. He really was in rotten shape. Depressed, upset, worried. One of the worries that plagued him was the difference in our ages. He could be my father, I’d never stay with him, it couldn’t last.

Peter Lorre, who had been on the set during
To Have and Have Not
, was a very close friend of Bogie’s. His wife-to-be was a beautiful German actress named Kaaren Verne. They were good to be with and cared what happened to Bogie. Peter was totally unlike his movie self. Very, very intelligent, knew a great deal about medicine, a first-rate horseman, drank a good deal but it never got out of hand. His ranch was one of our havens. Burl Ives was a close friend of Peter’s, and on more than one occasion when Bogie and I were there Burl was too. Playing his guitar, singing, and drinking. I had never been around drinkers before. I had never learned to drink myself. I wondered if I ever would. To be thrust into that atmosphere when you are twenty is really traumatic. I didn’t have a clue about how to handle it, so I just went along and watched – I’d learn the hard way. I’d always talk to them as if they were sober, which resulted in no communication.

All these friends and acquaintances of Bogie’s were his contemporaries. I was like a sponge. As I was able to take direction and absorb and learn quickly, so I was able to on a social level as well. This was lucky because there would have been no way for me to have a life with Bogie without adapting to his friends and his way of life, so
different from mine. It’s one thing to love a man and do all the things he does with him, it’s quite another to function in the same way with strangers. I accepted it all as it came and didn’t really question it. First things first, the rest would take care of itself.

About three weeks into the picture Bogie left home and checked into the Beverly Hills Hotel. The press moved in, he made a formal statement: trial separation – no, it had nothing to do with me or anyone else. Mayo said she loved Bogie and would try to get him back. I said not a word, but I was so happy. He’d left, he’d finally left! My mother was not so pleased – be careful, remember he was still a married man. Bogie and I made arrangements to meet in his hotel room. I’d have to arrive late and go in the back way, trying not to be seen. It was decided that Carolyn, whom he’d never met even when she’d driven me down to Balboa, would come with me, so it would look less obvious. Illicit love can be fun – especially at twenty. I parked my car away from the hotel. Carolyn parked hers. We sneaked through side doors, down a corridor, laughing all the way, knocked on the appointed door, and were let in by a slightly disheveled but anxious Bogie. He was suspicious of my girlfriend. She was intimidated by him. They were both on the defensive. I wanted them to love each other – they did, but not that first time. She had to call Buddy, who was in New York. She asked to use the phone and insisted on paying for the call. Bogie refused to accept. A battle of words ensued. Carolyn was adamant, gave him a five-dollar bill, which he proceeded to set fire to. Charming. I had no toothpaste. Carolyn went out to get me some. Hard to believe that I was actually thinking about toothpaste at a time like that. The hotel adventure was fun, but trying not to be seen was not. Every time someone knocked on the door – room service or the maid – I hid in the closet.

It was not the best of times. Howard didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he knew he didn’t like it. He had Slim call me one day to tell me that Howard didn’t know she was calling, but that I really should straighten myself out – he was really sore at me and I was a fool to antagonize him – I should tell Bogie that this whole thing might finish my career, and certainly would as far as Howard was concerned. Slim said she was sure I could figure out a way to handle it without turning my life upside down. I knew Howard was standing right there as she spoke. But how in hell
can
you handle love without turning your life upside down? That’s what love does, it changes everything. My life
would never be the same again. I didn’t want it the same. But I was always torn. On the one hand, my career, my future, my life’s dream and wish. On the other hand, Bogie, my love, first and total, also my possible future, now just at its beginning, going great some of the time. I didn’t want to anger Howard, I was terrified he’d do something awful, like sending me to Monogram. Yet I had to see Bogie, I had to be with him. I was consumed by that feeling. And I couldn’t cope with either one of those monumental happenings, much less both.

About a week after Bogie had moved to the hotel, he came into my make-up room when I was getting ready to go to the set. The makeup department knew what was going on and everyone discreetly left the room when one of us walked in on the other. I was due on the set in about fifteen minutes. Bogie looked at me and said, ‘I’ve gone back.’ The tears didn’t wait an instant: ‘But why?’ ‘I had to, the doctor said Mayo was sick, an alcoholic and in very bad physical shape, she had to go into a hospital. You wouldn’t even throw a dog out,’ he said. The tears kept coming, the eyes got redder, the makeup was being ruined, eyes puffy. I had to work. How could I be photographed? I couldn’t go on the set like this. He’d have to stay with her until she was well. I went to the john, had a good cry, got some ice and pressed it to my eyes. I couldn’t even cry without everything going to pieces. I was a mess. I got to the set, the make-up man and the hairdresser said nothing, just kept the ice coming, wrapped in towels. I got into my costume, stalling as long as possible so I wouldn’t look as if my life had just crashed.

Somehow I got through that day. Howard said nothing. The press were barred from the stage, but he knew Bogie had gone back home. He’d be glad when this picture was over. Thank God I didn’t work every day.

The local newspapers were full of Bogie’s reconciliation, which made me want to die. My poor mother didn’t know what to do. Obviously Bogie was a son of a bitch, she hated to see me so miserable.

In spite of my personal anguish, the movie was great fun. A marvelous cast, and we all liked one another. One day Bogie came on the set and said to Howard, ‘Who pushed Taylor off the pier?’ Everything stopped. Howard, no one, had the answer. Taylor was the mystery chauffeur in the film. His disappearance was what brought Marlowe (Bogie) on the case originally. Howard sent a cable to
Raymond Chandler asking him.
He
didn’t know.
The Big Sleep
was a whodunit’s whodunit. Intricate, intriguing, mysterious, filled with colorful characters, many of whom made one-scene appearances. Everything added to the aura of the film. And no one ever bothered to figure it out. It was a great detective movie and great fun to watch. Still is.

Howard was peculiar – and very self-assured. If ever Jack Warner or Harry Warner or any other executive came on the set to see how the work was coming, Howard would stop shooting. He’d never make a fuss, never say a word. He knew he was being checked and he wouldn’t have that, so he just stopped. They finally caught on to the fact that they were holding up production. When they left, he started again. Howard told me that whenever a producer walked on a Jack Ford set, Ford would go to his dressing room until they’d gone. One day a memorandum came from Jack Warner: ‘Word has reached me that you are having fun on the set. This must stop.’ Howard told Bogie and me that Warner was an incredible monster to deal with. It would take experience for me to ever try, I’d never understand a man like that. Bogie had been suspended from Warners many times for refusing to act in bad films. Jack didn’t seem to care about quality, or protecting his talent. All he knew was that he was paying his actors and they had to work – he didn’t care if a film was good or bad for them, there would always be someone else when a career went down the drain. When we were filming
To Have and Have Not
, Bogie introduced me to Jimmy Cagney. Cagney said to me, ‘If you can survive even seven years at Warners, then you can conquer the world.’ It took a while, but not too long, before I knew what he meant. But at this point I still trusted Jack Warner; it didn’t make sense to me that he would want to put me into anything but the best. And, in any case, I had Howard to protect me.

Mayo came out of the hospital after a week. She knew the marriage was on its way out. She was desperately trying to hold on, and Bogie was helping her. It was sad and it was hopeless. I understand it all much better now than I did then. Just as I thought I was able to cope with the situation, something else would happen to throw me off balance.

Bogie could not bear his life with her. She hadn’t been home three days before the drinking began. It was all right for the first day and then all hell broke loose.

About three o’clock one morning my phone rang. I was dead asleep – so was Mother – I had to work in the morning. Bogie was at home and very drunk. ‘Hello, Baby.’ ‘Where are you – where are you calling from?’ ‘I’m at home – I miss you, Baby.’ The next voice I heard said, ‘Listen, you Jewish bitch – who’s going to wash his socks? Are
you?
Are
you
going to take care of him?’ I was numb – I stood there, scared to death and horrified, with my mouth open – holding the phone away from my ear, afraid to say anything. My mother said, ‘Who is that? Hang up the phone.’ After more vilification and Bogie shouting, ‘Hang up the phone, God damn it!’ to her – I hung up. Unnerved, to say the least. So she knew about me – all our care to avoid this, all for naught. What would happen tomorrow?

Mother was livid. ‘How could he subject you to that?’ ‘Mother, he was drinking – he’s miserable.’ She was in a fury – there was no excuse, absolutely none, nothing would ever come of this but trouble. ‘Why should you start your life like this? If he were decent and really cared about you, he would never allow you to be in this position.’ There was no rationale. I could never persuade her, and I couldn’t defend him with total conviction this time. Mother and I fought many times through this period. I, being stubborn, refusing to admit to being even slightly wrong, would storm out of my house. Sometimes in the middle of the night I’d get into my car and just drive, to get away.

When I got on the set next morning there was no Bogie. I decided to change before asking questions. Finally at around 9:30 I walked over to Howard. ‘Hello, darling,’ he said. When I moved toward him, he was always receptive and affectionate in his way. He said, ‘Bogie called – he’s going to be late.’ Okay. To fill up the time, Howard dreamed up shots that Bogie wasn’t in. Being on time was compulsive with Bogie – part of being a professional, having respect for your craft. But he missed that day. Purely and simply drunk. A friend called Howard later and said Bogie’d been up all night and felt and looked lousy – he really was not mentally or physically able. ‘Okay,’ said Howard, ‘forget it – we’ll shoot around him.’ We did what we could, but it wasn’t enough for a full day’s work. I was a mass of confused emotions. If Bogie’d been drinking, he’d have to rest at home for a while. What kind of a life did he lead? I could not envision living with anyone like that – it was so far from
my
relationship with him, which, with all its problems and
rough times, was based on hope. Starry-eyed, but hope nonetheless. His life with Mayo seemed to be one hangover after another – only destruction and ugliness.

H
oward summoned me to his
house again. Mother drove out with me and waited in the car. I was being called on the carpet, Howard fighting for his Svengali role. ‘Look, I’m not going to go on with this. I can’t have anyone under contract who won’t listen to me. Bogart likes his life – he likes the drinking and he likes his wife – you’re throwing away a whole career because of something that’s just not going to happen. You’re a damn fool – I’ll just sell your contract – I can’t be bothered anymore. If I’d known anything like this could happen, I’d never have signed you. So you’d better make up your mind – this is your last chance.’ More tears. Reason told me I must stay with Howard – but reason had nothing to do with any of it. I was emotionally gone. I needed Bogie – I felt I had to be with him – I couldn’t help it, there was no alternative. I was being pulled in all directions. When I was with Bogie, it all became clear – he was so wise, he was so sure of how life should be lived – he made it seem simple to understand, and he was on my side. I trusted him totally – he could convince me of anything.

Howard and Slim did everything to distract me. Slim called to invite me to dinner one night. ‘I’ve got the most dazzling man you’ll ever meet in your life for a fourth – once you meet him, you’ll forget all about Bogart.’ The man was Clark Gable, in uniform. Imagine meeting Clark Gable – one of these larger-than-life people that you pay your carefully saved money to see. He
was
dazzling to look at, but he stirred me not a bit. I tried to flirt a little, tried to be attracted to him – but it didn’t work. He was just a pleasant terrific-looking man without an overabundance of humor who had incredible dimples and was named Clark Gable. There were no sparks flying that night. He even took me home – Clark Gable in uniform standing at the foot of the stairs to my apartment on Reeves Drive – in the moonlight. He kissed me good night, smiled, and walked away. Nothing, but nothing.

Bogie came back to work and told me of his adventure. He’d been out all night drinking. At 7:00 a.m., unshaven, he was walking past houses on some street, looked through a window, and saw a woman
preparing breakfast for her family. Imagine seeing a Bogart face staring through your window at that hour of the morning. The husband went to the door, asked him if he’d like to come in for a cup of coffee. So he sat with the children having breakfast – they adored it. Nice people – and they never saw him again.

He also told me he’d had a talk with Mayo. He wanted out definitely this time, it would never work, but he’d really have to be careful – her doctor said that not only was she an alcoholic but also somewhat of a paranoiac. One more complication. He would speak with his manager, Morgan Maree, about the financial settlement. Before that he’d have to get things straight with her – get her to agree to go to Reno. Then we could think about our life.