In Cinderella's Shadow
According to a popular saying, you can choose your friends but not your family. While this may be true, despite occasional squabbles and rivalries, most people cherish their parents, siblings, children and extended family members such as aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. To many of us, our relatives are often a lodestar of inspiration, a source of comfort and a wellspring of support.
As a young child, Patrice St. Clair, the daughter of iconic Hollywood star Diana St. Clair, if given a choice, would have her mother above all others. Divorced from the child's father since before the little girl learned to walk, Diana was all the family Patrice knew or needed. Unlike many actresses who kept a running tally of husbands and lovers, Diana remained single, content to be a doting parent, whose daughter was the center of her universe.
Before she reached the age of five and began attending kindergarten, the little girl was enthralled by her mother. Stunningly attractive, the petite, blond-haired and blue-eyed Diana resembled a magical princess come to life from the pages of one of her daughter's fairy tale books. To her child, Diana became a life-size, living, breathing Cinderella, who through the magic of Hollywood rather than a fairy godmother, was routinely transformed from a mere parent into a vision of beauty and grace. Depending on her role, Diana St. Clair—dubbed by film critics as the queen of the costume epics—became Marie Antoinette, Mary Queen of Scots, Cleopatra, Juliet or Helen of Troy.
Then came the age of six, and Patrice moved from a private kindergarten to the first grade of a public school. After having led a sheltered life, the little girl soon learned what it really meant to be the child of a celebrity. Many of her classmates had parents who made their living in the motion picture industry, but few as leading men or ladies. They were the children of cameramen, screenwriters, lighting technicians, secretaries, security guards and such. Their mothers' faces were not routinely seen on television, the big screen or covers of magazines.
Initially, the little girl enjoyed her status as the offspring of a film star and the fulsome deference it brought from fellow students and teachers alike. She was always the first child chosen by classmates to be on a sports team, and she received invitations to all the birthday, Halloween and Christmas parties. More importantly, teachers tended to look the other way when she misbehaved in class, gave her the benefit of the doubt when grading her tests and homework and often added extra points on oral and written reports. During the early grades of school, at least, she was a star by association.
Eventually the luster faded, however. It began in the sixth grade when the son of Quentin Adderly, a British pop star who wanted to try his hand at acting, began attending the same school as Patrice. To the youngsters and even to a majority of the teachers, a rock 'n' roll singer trumped an actress who was already past the peak of her career. Almost immediately, the unctuous flatterers and hangers-on deserted their former idol and switched their allegiance to Christopher Adderly. When the number of party invitations she received drastically diminished, her grades dipped, as well.
Surprisingly, it was Christopher himself who helped her recover from the sudden loss of popularity. Apparently, the youngster had inherited more than his father's famous name and dashing good looks. He also shared Quentin's devil-may-care attitude.
"Don't let that bloody bunch of wankers get you down, luv," he said, borrowing one of his father's oft-used expressions.
"They used to be my good friends," Patrice complained, trying to hold back her tears. "Now they don't even say hello to me in the halls."
"They were never your mates, same as they're not really my mates now. It's our parents, your mum and my dad, that attract them. They're famous, which to them makes us famous. I don't know why, but some people who aren't celebrities or related to celebrities themselves get some kind of thrill rubbing elbows with those who are. It was the same way in my old school in London. If you ask me, the whole world's a great big cockup!"
From that day on, Patrice St. Clair and Christopher Adderly became best friends and confidants. They shared both the joys and heartaches of adolescence and puberty. Together, they broke through the bulwark of their parents' fame and fortune and left behind their cosseted childhoods as they neared the exciting, albeit sometimes dangerous and frightening, threshold of adulthood. Unlike Diana, Christopher was an integral part of Patrice's life by choice rather than by accident of birth.
* * *
The last year of high school proved to be a bittersweet time for Patrice. On one hand, her long-awaited freedom was in sight. On the other, Quentin Adderly decided to devote more time to his music and forego his mediocre acting career. Unfortunately, the decision necessitated moving his family back home to England. Having lost her best friend, Patrice could no longer avoid the pitfalls faced by other celebrities' children. Her life became one of alcohol, drugs, wild parties and indiscriminate sex. Diana, always the devoted parent, tried to help her daughter, but the more she reached out to the wayward teenager, the more the girl pushed her away.
"To think I was once actually glad to be her daughter!" Patrice cried resentfully on a long-distance call to Christopher in London. "Now I wish I'd never heard of her."
The well-grounded young man, who admired his friend's mother, came to the actress' defense.
"Your mum's not that bad," he declared. "She'd do anything for you. It's not her fault the world is full of fools."
"I thought you, of all people, understood how I felt. I have no identity of my own. To everyone except you, all I am is Diana St. Clair's daughter. I might as well be called Diana, Jr. instead of Patrice!"
"Look at the bright side. You said you hoped to be an actress yourself someday. Think of how many doors her name will open for you."
"When that time comes, you don't think I'll continue to use my mother's name, do you?"
"Whose name will you go by then, your father's?"
"Hell, no! Talk about deadbeat dads! I haven't seen or heard from him since I was three. No, I'll make one up."
Just days after her high school graduation, longing for independence, Patrice moved into her own apartment—the rent ironically paid by the same mother from under whose shadow she hoped to escape. With the new surname of Henry (Christopher's middle name), she began taking acting lessons and devoting the remainder of her time to answering casting calls and preparing for auditions. She soon got an agent who only agreed to represent her because she was Diana St. Clair's daughter, although he tactfully never mentioned this reason to his client, preferring to regard her parentage as a taboo subject.
Over the next several years—during which time her mother still contributed substantially to her financial support—Patrice Henry was able to build a resume with a number of minor guest-starring roles on popular televisions shows such as All in the Family, Charlie's Angels, The Love Boat, Columbo and Bewitched.
The young actress' big break came three months after her twenty-fourth birthday when she was cast in the role of sorceress Morgan le Fay in a quirky, low-budget retelling of the legend of King Arthur. The fantasy movie, with incredible visual effects reminiscent of Ray Harryhausen's work in Jason and the Argonauts, centered on the battle between Merlin and Morgan le Fay rather than on the chivalrous deeds of Arthur and his knights or the Arthur-Guinevere-Lancelot love triangle. The optimistic outcome of the age-old battle of good versus evil, in the form of Merlin's white magic and Morgan le Fay's black magic, appealed to a generation that had only recently recovered from the turmoil surrounding the Vietnam War, the Watergate scandal and the often violent Civil Rights movement.
The unexpected and overwhelming success of the movie not only made Patrice Henry a star, but it also gave her the financial autonomy she had long craved. Although the entire world was well aware that she was Diana St. Clair's daughter, she finally had an identity of her own. With her mother still living in Hollywood, she moved to New York where she was frequently seen at Studio 54, partying with the likes of Mick and Bianca Jagger, Andy Warhol, Elton John, Halston and Keith Richards.
Unlike Patrice's sycophantic classmates in early grammar school, her new friends did not view her parent as a member of Hollywood royalty. Diana belonged to an older generation. She had been first a child star and then a teenage ingénue in the Forties and became a sexy, glamorous leading lady in the Fifties, but by the Sixties she was playing comic roles, usually supporting younger actresses. By the time the Seventies came to an end, she had stopped making movies altogether. Her only appearances before the cameras were guest spots on television talk shows or occasionally as a celebrity contestant on a game show.
Despite having emerged from beneath her mother's shadow, Patrice still continued on her path of self-destruction, one paved with alcohol, cocaine and a succession of failed love affairs. It was while she was on the West Coast filming the third installment of what was popularly referred to as the King Arthur Chronicles that the proverbial rug was pulled out from under her feet.
Christopher Adderly, who had stepped out from under his father's shadow to successfully front his own rock band, had died in a car crash in Tours, France on his way to Bordeaux after performing at a sold-out concert in Paris. The news of his tragic death devastated his former classmate. Although they had not seen each other in more than three years, they remained close friends, speaking on the telephone at least once a month.
In her profound grief, the young actress did not seek consolation from her clique of internationally famous, party-going friends. They were, after all, a hedonistic group who routinely lost members at a young age, mostly to drug overdoses and drug-related accidents. Not one of them could possibly understand the depth of her sorrow. Oddly enough, it was her mother she went to for comfort. Diana, who had always had a soft spot for the rock star's son, unselfishly provided her daughter with a much-needed sympathetic shoulder to cry on. She even accompanied her to England to attend Christopher's funeral.
Paradoxically, Patrice Henry's life changed for the better in the wake of her friend's untimely death. With newly acquired aplomb, she put her careless, partying days behind her and concentrated on her work, taking on more challenging roles than that of the Arthurian sorceress. She even tried her hand at Shakespeare, playing the scheming Margaret of Anjou in Henry VI. Also, for the first time since sixth grade, she enjoyed a close bond with her mother. It was foolish to continue to resent her parent, she reasoned, especially since their roles were now reversed. The daughter had become the Hollywood star, and Diana St. Clair was often referred to as "Patrice Henry's mother."
* * *
Not only did Patrice's career flourish in the Eighties, but new life was breathed into her mother's, too. With the growing popularity of cable TV stations such as American Movie Classics and Turner Classic Movies, films from the Thirties, Forties and Fifties were re-emerging from the studio vaults. Many were being released on videocassettes for people to rent or own. Stars such as Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney, Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy were introduced to a new, younger generation of movie fans. Older stars, who had been forced into retirement by the youth-obsessed culture of the Sixties and Seventies, experienced resurgence in their careers.
Diana St. Clair's new-found fame brought her a number of lucrative offers from—of all unlikely places—Disney, Nickelodeon and PBS.
"One big advantage of being a more mature thespian," the elderly actress laughed when she spoke to her daughter about her renascent career, "you don't have to be constantly dieting. Far from demanding a svelte sex symbol, Disney sees me as the plump grandmotherly type."
That's life for you! Patrice thought, with a bittersweet smile. I once thought of my mother as Cinderella. Now she's more likely to be cast as the Fairy Godmother.
For more than twenty-five years, although they still found the time to stay in touch, mother and daughter were both kept busy with their own thriving careers. Although in her early eighties, Diana St. Clair still continued to work, with no sign of retirement in sight. In the spring of 2017, she flew to Edinburgh, Scotland to star in a miniseries about the last days of Queen Victoria. Meanwhile, Patrice Henry was off to Salisbury, England where she would reprise her role as Morgan le Fay, the sixth time she was to portray the sorceress.
On one of her rare days off from filming, she and Drake Hardyston, the handsome, twenty-two-year-old British actor who played Mordred, rented a car and drove to Glastonbury. A native of the Somerset area, Drake was playing tour guide for his famous costar. As the two walked through the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey—a victim of Henry VIII's Dissolution of the Monasteries—Patrice saw what appeared to be a tall structure on top of a hill.
"What's that building up there?" she asked.
Drake, who reminded her of Christopher Adderly, replied, "That's St. Michael's Tower. It's all that's left of a fourteenth century church that once stood atop Glastonbury Tor, whose history goes back to pre-Celtic times. Oddly enough, people often associate the Tor with King Arthur."
"Really. How?"
"Some claim the Holy Grail is buried there, and others say the Tor is actually the Isle of Avalon where Arthur died."
Drake then showed her to a wooden sign on the grounds of the Abbey, claiming the land was the site of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere's tomb.
"Do you think they were really buried here?" she asked.
"Since there's no proof Arthur even existed, I'd say the whole story was concocted by a bunch of imaginative monks."
As they two actors were exiting the Abbey gift shop, Patrice turned to Drake and asked, "Is there any way we can go up to the top of the Tor and see the tower?"
"It's a steep hill, but as I can recall, there's a paved path and some stairs we can use."
Standing at the bottom of the hill, looking up at the tower, Patrice realized the climb might be more difficult than it had appeared from the grounds of Glastonbury Abbey.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" her costar asked.
"Absolutely! Don't worry about me. I work out at the gym three times a week to stay in shape, so I don't imagine I'll have any trouble. Besides, it's a beautiful day for a walk."
Halfway to the top, the middle-aged actress began to experience shortness of breath.
This is definitely harder than using a StairMaster, she thought, slowing her pace.
By the time she and Drake reached the summit of the Tor, Patrice's breathing was labored, and perspiration beaded on her forehead.
"That was a hike!" she exclaimed.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath."
As Drake photographed the panoramic view of the surrounding countryside with his iPhone, Patrice leaned backward and looked up at St. Michael's Tower. Her eyes were slowly making their way to the top of the fourteenth-century, stone church tower, when a wave of dizziness engulfed her.
Suddenly, the sky darkened as though night had fallen. She turned in panic to find Drake Hardyston, but he and the dozens of tourists who had previously been on the Tor were gone, leaving her alone in the moonlight.
What's going on? Where is everybody?
"They're right where they were, on Glastonbury Tor. It's you who are no longer here."
The voice was a much loved and familiar one that she had not heard for many years and believed was forever lost to her.
"Christopher? Is that you? Where are you?"
A figure, glowing with an eerie luminescence, stepped out from beneath the tower's arch-shaped entranceway. More than three decades had passed since the two school friends last met. Patrice was a woman in her fifties, who relied on plastic surgery and a skillful application of makeup—not to mention special camera filters and lighting techniques—to continue playing the role of Morgan le Fay, yet Christopher Adderly had not aged a day since the final time she saw him.
"I'm right here," he replied, sounding as young as he looked.
"You're dead. I attended your funeral," she said, in a flat, unemotional voice. "And since I'm here talking to you, I assume I'm dead as well."
Christopher nodded his head.
"A heart attack. I'm afraid, gym or no gym, you weren't in as good a shape as you thought."
"The picture? We were almost done filming. What will become of it now?"
"After a new ending is filmed, it will be released. Merlin will win his longstanding battle against you—by default. However, it will be the last movie in the franchise, and it will be dedicated to your memory."
"I suppose I ought to be honored, but right now I'm just trying to come to terms with being dead."
"You're not the only one. The world is just learning of your sudden passing. People around the globe are in shock. Your death will be the lead story on every news broadcast."
"Yes," Patrice said, in a moment of self-pity, "my death will make news, but do you think anyone really cares whether I'm alive or dead?"
"Someone did," Christopher replied with an enigmatic smile.
He turned his head back toward the arched entrance of St. Michael's Tower where another figure suddenly emerged.
"Oh, Patrice! My dearest girl!"
Unable to bear the death of her beloved daughter, Diana St. Clair suffered an acute myocardial infarction—many say brought on by a broken heart. She died moments after hearing the news, dropping to the ground in a Victorian mourning gown designed by last year's Oscar-winner for best costumes.
"Mom!"
"I'm so sorry," Diana apologized.
"Whatever for?"
"They're making quite a fuss over your mother's death," Christopher explained. "More than over yours, in fact."
"I'm afraid that I've unintentionally stolen the spotlight from you again."
"That's okay, Mom," Patrice said, feeling nothing but love for her parent. "I've long gotten used to living in your shadow. After all, who can outshine Cinderella?"
What seemed like only moments later, the sun came up over Glastonbury Tor, and St. Michael's Tower stood tall and imposing in its early morning rays. At that early hour of the day, there were no tourists, only three spirits who had reunited before going on to their eternal rest.
Salem once portrayed King Arthur in an all-cat performance of Camelot. He was replaced when he covered the round table with cans of Friskies cat food.
