Read Online My Week with Marilyn by Colin Clark - Free Book Online Page B

‘Don’t you take any notice of those old spoilsports. It’s a lovely summer day, and Roger and I decided to go out for an adventure, didn’t we, Roger?’
    â€˜Hmm,’ said Roger. He slowed the car to a halt, with two wheels on the grass verge. ‘Now, where are we going?’
    I swivelled round and stared into Marilyn’s very naughty eyes.
    â€˜Yes, but Milton said that if I ever spoke to you again he would have me sacked and banned from the studio.’
    Marilyn frowned. ‘I used to have another coach before Paula. You wouldn’t believe how often she was banned from the set. But she never went. No one can sack you, Colin – except me, of course.’ Another giggle. ‘You’re quite safe.’
    â€˜What the . . . ?’
    Unheard by us, Tony had come padding down the drive to investigate, and was now staring into the back seat, his face contorted with rage.

    Marilyn screamed and buried herself under the rug. Roger let out the clutch with a jolt, and the car flapped off again like an old black crow.
    â€˜Wait!’ shouted Tony. ‘Colin! I want a word with you!’ But this time Roger’s police training stood him in good stead. No one was going to kidnap Marilyn Monroe while he was at the wheel, not even Mr Bushell.
    â€˜Phew! That was a close one.’ Marilyn emerged from the rug looking even more dishevelled and cheeky than before. ‘Do you think he saw me?’
    â€˜I’m quite sure he did,’ I said. ‘He’ll be on the phone to Sir Laurence already.’
    â€˜Ooh. What do you think Sir Laurence will say?’
    â€˜He’ll think it over for a minute, and then he’ll laugh out loud and tell Tony not to tell anyone else, to keep it a secret.’
    â€˜You know Sir Laurence pretty well, don’t you, Colin?’
    â€˜Yes, I do, and he’s a great man. But I realise that he probably doesn’t look like one to you at the moment.’
    â€˜Oh, I don’t know about that. He’s just so terribly severe. He treats me like a schoolgirl, not an actress.’
    â€˜That’s just his manner. He can see you’re an actress every time he looks at the previous day’s film. We all can.’
    â€˜I hate to interrupt,’ said Roger, ‘but where are we going?’
    â€˜Anywhere,’ said Marilyn. ‘It’s Saturday, and I want to be free. How about that Windsor Park you mentioned to Mr Bushell? Do you think he’ll follow us and spy? Hey, it doesn’t matter. We’ve got Roger. We can go wherever we want.’
    â€˜Windsor Great Park it is, then,’ said Roger. A few minutes later he swung the car down a long avenue of trees. ‘It’s right here.’
    Soon we reached a pair of tall iron gates with a little gatehouse beside them. Roger stopped, got out and knocked. A man came to the door and Roger chatted to him for a few moments, then showed him what I presume was some sort of pass.
    â€˜I don’t like being on my own in the back,’ said Marilyn. ‘I feel
like the Queen. Come and join me.’ I squashed into the Wolsey’s less than commodious rear seat beside her. ‘That’s it. You said you weren’t scared of me. Snuggle up. This is fun.’
    Roger got back behind the wheel, and sighed at the now vacant front seat beside him as the man opened the gates.
    â€˜We’re off to see Her Majesty now,’ he said. ‘You two just behave yourselves in the back seat.’
    â€˜Ooh,’ said Marilyn, ‘Mr Bushell can’t follow us here.’ And she gave my arm a squeeze.
    This was all going much too fast for me. I felt as if I was the one who had been kidnapped. I mean, it was incredibly exhilarating to be in the back seat of a smelly black Wolsey with Marilyn Monroe, speeding through the back entrance to Windsor Castle – but what would happen next? I wasn’t even wearing a jacket. Where could we go?