The Twilight Hour Read Online Free PDF

back on that.
    Hugh with his effete Noel Coward manner had changed in the opposite direction, Alan said, more of a gadfly, skating along on the surface of life. He said he was still a socialist, but he hadn’t a good word for the government. He just seemed utterly disillusioned and did nothing but sneer and make cynical little jokes.
    â€˜You’re incurably frivolous,’ Colin glowered.
    â€˜You’ve no sense of fun, old dear.’
    â€˜Life isn’t much fun.’
    I wondered if Colin was hopelessly in love with some girl. That might explain a lot. I went out of my way to be nice to him, and he took more notice of me than Hugh ever did – or for that matter Alan at times.
    Since the film company had folded they’d been plotting how to start another one, or at least get money for the film they were desperate to make. ‘We need Enescu.’ Hugh’s hair flopped forward. ‘His film has done so well – investors will be falling over themselves. That friend of theirs, Stanley Colman, for example.’
    â€˜But Enescu would be the director,’ protested Colin. ‘He’d be in charge.’
    â€˜Not if we played our cards right.’
    â€˜But what have we got to offer?’ insisted Colin.
    Alan and Hugh did have something to offer, because Home Front , their wartime documentary, had been a critical success, especially for Alan as the main scriptwriter. I hadn’t seen it and didn’t remember it at any cinema, but that’s what they said, anyway; all the right people had taken notice. The little documentary they’d made about post-war reconstruction had got less attention, but they weren’t letting that discourage them. It was Colin who’d been out of the picture. Colin needed them more than they needed him.
    â€˜We have to make important films, films that tell the world what is really happening. Enescu won’t want that. He won’t want anything with a message.’ Colin stared at his friends defiantly.
    Hugh attempted his most winning smile. ‘We can work round this,’ he murmured. He flicked ash delicately off the end of his cigarette. ‘You’re the brains, you can get the message into the story – and we’re right behind you. An audience likes a story. They want to identify with the characters. They have enough austerity in their daily lives.’
    â€˜You mean the masses are stupid. They just want escapism.’
    â€˜That’s not what I mean, not at all. Surely art has to inspire, to energise, to arouse our sympathies …’
    â€˜To entertain . That great American word.’
    â€˜Hang on – I didn’t say that. But people are tired. There’s not a lot of sympathy around. We have to create it, we have to show what it’s like in Europe today. There’s a Little England mentality in this country at the moment. It’s not anyone’s fault, and it’s not surprising people are fed up. We won the war, didn’t we, but what have we got to show for it? That’s what people are thinking. You can’t blame them. They’re not interested in how much worse things are in Poland or Germany – least of all Germany. But a story – a romance, I’m not afraid of that word – a love story will get them to feel , it’ll arouse their pity, they’ll stop thinking about the rations and the fuel shortage, and start to think how lucky we are by comparison and how we can help .’
    â€˜That isn’t Enescu’s agenda. He’s just a little fascist toerag. His film’s hit a reactionary chord and–’
    â€˜Don’t be so bigoted,’ interrupted Alan. It was the match to light the tinder, and with one impatient remark he’d ruined all Hugh’s attempts at diplomacy.
    â€˜Bigoted! Me!’ Colin leaned forward, menacing. And now the real problem began to emerge: the Party. ‘I can’t go along with capitalist