Chapter 54
Lewis and Andrea: Q is for Questions
Lewis: So, perhaps we could start with some basics. Why is François Martin not listed on the girls’ birth certificates?
Andrea: Goodness, Lewis! You are going full-on Jeremy Paxman, aren’t you? Been watching a little too muchNewsnightwith your cocoa, have we? But … fair enough. It’s the obvious point for a solicitor to start with, I suppose. The first time – with Rose – it was mainly out of anger. On my part.
Franky was out at a casting – something to do with one of those cop shows at the time; it might have beenThe Sweeney, I can’t quite recall – and I’d arranged to meet him at the registry office. We’d both been up all night – me with the baby, and him with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.
I got there in time for our appointment, and he just didn’t show up. I was stuck there in the waiting room, trying to deal with a two-week-old baby on my own, and it was all so humiliating.
I later found out it was because he didn’t get the part, and went straight to Soho to meet his alleged friends. Forgot all about us. That wasn’t unusual, especially as time went on, but just then it stung. Badly.
I was so in love with my darling little girl, you see, and it hurt that he couldn’t be bothered to even officially claim her. So I left him out, in a fit of pique. With Poppy … well, by that time, things had become unbearable, to be honest. His life was one long, morbid party – the drugs had completely taken hold of him, and I was starting to realise that everything was going dreadfully wrong. So that time, it was deliberate.
I had no idea if he’d even be alive by the time she grew up, never mind still in our lives. I felt like … like it was going to be down to me to raise these girls, and he didn’t even deserve a mention. Gosh. That makes me sound like the bitter one, doesn’t it?
Lewis: Not at all. It makes you sound human. Now, moving on, tell us a little about how you met – and what his good qualities were.
Andrea: Excellent question, Lewis! Because I don’t want you girls to think that he was an unremitting loss – of course he wasn’t! He was partly responsible for creating you two!
Well, obviously he was handsome. Quite irresistible, with his big brown eyes and moody French cheekbones and hair that was fashionably long. A little like a young Alain Delon, which he played on. But he was such fun as well, he really was – full of charm and humour. He was one of those men who made you feel so special, like you were the only woman in his world.
He was frightfully clever, and a wonderful actor. We met when he was playing Mercutio, and I was Juliet. The chap playing Romeo was most definitely not interested in girls, I have to say – you’d have loved him, Lewis! Anyway, we were doing a regional tour, with a week in Paris, and by the end of the run, we were a couple. It was marvellous to start with, no matter what happened later. It really was. No man has ever taken my breath away in quite the same fashion.
I still remember, so clearly, him showing me around Paris, so handsome and strong … holding hands under the Eiffel Tower, drinking coffee by Notre-Dame … it was like something from a film, to be honest. Perhaps that’s why it didn’t last, I don’t know … but I loved him, so much. And I have to believe that he loved me – and no matter what eventually became of us, that love was such a precious thing. I might not want my girls to have the same unhappy ending, but the love? That, I very much want for them – both of them.
Lewis: Of course you do. Now, fill us in on where you lived, and how your life together looked.
Andrea: We had a little love nest in Notting Hill. It wasn’t quite as fashionable then, but it was all we could afford. To begin with it was all very boho – we hung out with an arty crowd, and there were lots of lovely soirees and nights out. It was very sociable, very lively. The Seventies were like that. I can leave the address as well, Lewis – pass it on to the girls, will you? Then if they want to, they can go and visit. Anyway, things were already changing by the time Rose was born – I don’t want you to think you caused any of it, girls. The rot had well and truly already set in.
He was out later and later, often not coming back for days on end, and when he did turn up, I was never sure which Franky I’d be getting. Sometimes, he was wonderful – he genuinely adored you girls, when he was on form, he was such a doting dad! He’d come back into our lives like a whirlwind of energy, and for days at a time, we’d have trips to the park, and breakfast in bed – all of us – and lovely walks, and it would be so nice.
The problem was that he wasn’t on form for that much of the time … he was hanging round with a wild crowd, and the drugs were considered normal. Of course they might have been for somebody else – but his personality, that moodiness I used to find so dazzling, meant that for him it was a disaster. For all of us. I tried to help him, but I couldn’t. I think even if he’d won every role he went for, won Oscars and BAFTAs, he would still have been a little bit … broken. I don’t know why. Perhaps a more mature woman could have figured him out, but I was far from mature. I still don’t think I am.
Lewis: You are perfectly mature, my darling, but only when you want to be! See, a case in point – your mother is sticking her tongue out at me, girls! Anyway. Moving on. Why did you finally decide to end things?
Andrea: Oh … oh my. This is harder than I thought it would be, you know. I’m feeling a bit tearful. This all feels like ancient history, but at the same time it’s still so vivid, it’s like it happened yesterday …
Lewis: Do you want to stop? Take a little break? You’re due some more painkillers any time now …
Andrea: No! Let’s rip the plaster off, shall we? Well, it was after my mother died. Her illness was long and drawn out and deeply unpleasant. I was an only child, so all of the pressure fell on me, and I’m afraid I felt rather sorry for myself. It’s one of the reasons, as I’ve mentioned, that I’ve chosen not to tell you about my current predicament. I have Lewis, bless him, and there’s simply nothing to be gained by dragging you into it as well.
But anyway … that’s neither here nor there. I always tried to take you both with me when I could, to sit with her and visit her, but it was very difficult at the end. A deathbed is no place for babies. So, on the day she finally passed away, I’d left you at home with your father. He’d been on his best behaviour for a while, trying to be a good soldier while I was going through my ordeal. That’s the thing about Franky – he was never a bad person, girls. Never malicious or cruel – the only person he didn’t like was himself; he didn’t really have a mean bone in his body. He was just weak. So weak that he couldn’t last that long without a little chemical assistance.
I came home, that day, utterly drained – you can imagine how I felt, I am sure, my darlings, as you’re going through something similar yourselves. Grief can be so bloody exhausting.
When I finally made it back, desperate to see you, and Franky, I found the two of you basically looking after yourselves, while he was sprawled on the couch. Rose, you were only two, but you’d tried to feed Poppy by pouring milk into her mouth! You were both covered in it, and soaking wet because no nappies had been changed all day, and screaming the place down. He was just lying there, listening to Led Zeppelin full blast, to drown it all out.
That, I’m afraid, was the last straw. I suppose I was grieving, and traumatised by Mum’s death and all the run-up to it, and I just couldn’t cope with anything more. I knew, right then, that this man was never going to change – or at least not change enough for it to be safe for us to be around him. And a few weeks later, we were gone. I can’t say that it was easy on my own, and part of me really did miss him, but … well, it had to be done.
Lewis: Were you ever in touch again, after that?
Andrea: Well, I’d hear about him, on the grapevine, you know? Mutual friends, our old set. I’d see him pop up on the telly every now and then. I used to wonder if I’d ever bump into him on the occasions I was down in London working, you two in tow – but I didn’t. From what I heard, things got a lot worse before they got better, and he ended up doing a teensy, tiny amount of jail time. Then, round about 1982, 1983, something like that, he did get in touch – passed a letter on via my agent. He said he’d moved to Paris, cleaned up his act, was doing some French theatre and rebuilding his life. That he was sorry for everything, and that he’d love to know how his girls were getting on.
Lewis: And … what did you say to that?
Andrea: Eventually, I wrote back. It took me a couple of weeks to make my mind up, but life’s too short, isn’t it, to hold grudges? It’s not like I was inviting him to move in, or sending the girls there to tour the Louvre with him – so I replied, letting him know how wonderful they were, and sent him an up-to-date photo. But … well, I never heard back. I don’t suppose he was quite as clean as he said, or maybe he never got the letter. I don’t really know. That was the last I ever heard from him.
