Page 121 of The Extraordinary Florence Stoker

‘I did,’ I said impatiently. ‘But he doesn’t appear to be taking the matter seriously. You do understand there’s a legal injunction telling the producers to destroy the film? Clearly, they’ve ignored the court’s order and what Mr Montagu intends to screen is an illicit copy. If he goes ahead and shows Murnau’s film, it will be in breach of copyright. I’ll be left with no choice but to seek legal recourse against you all.’

‘It’s a private screening, Lemon.’

I brushed aside her words. ‘Mr Montagu said that. Many times, to me, Mr Thring, and my agent, Mr Bang. But I’m afraid that doesn’t change the law, nor the fact that the only reason the film is in your possession is because some importer in Chancery Lane, who had the gall to bring it in illegally from Germany, couldn’t persuade any of the theatres in the city to show it and so gave it to your Society.’

‘It was an incredibly generous thing to do.’

‘Generous?’ I laughed dubiously. ‘He knew all along he was breaking the law. He gave it to your Society to avoid a fine and make the problem yours. You know he’s disappeared?’

‘Has he?’ Ellen gave an exaggerated shudder. ‘How delicious. The plot thickens.’ She gave a wry smile and dabbed her mouth with a serviette. ‘Lemon, seriously.’ She twisted on the settee to face me. Her eyes were unchanged. All sparkly and kind. ‘It wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t make it one.’

I sighed. Was Ellen being deliberately obtuse? ‘Don’t you see how wrong this is? I thought you, my oldest friend, would understand, might act on my behalf. You cannot seriously consider presiding over this … this travesty. Once again, Dracula has risen. He’s managed to escape the confines of a bankrupt studio, the continent and, like the plague itself, spread to Britain, using you, of all people, to facilitate his entry. It’s like the plot of a penny dreadful.’

Ellen gave her throaty laugh. ‘You’ve such a flair for the dramatic when you choose. Look,’ she said, reaching for my hands. I reluctantly let her take them. ‘Stop worrying. Give our little showing your blessing, please, darling. You do know that George Shaw, Herbert Wells and Aldous Huxley are sponsors? Surely you don’t want to disappoint them?’

‘I don’t want to disappoint anyone, Ellen, least of all you. But if I allow this screening to go ahead, if word gets out that Nosferatu is being shown in London, not only does it make a mockery of the law, of copyright itself, but what chance have I of securing a film deal anywhere? I’ve already lost any prospect of being paid for the rights by these people, be damned if I’ll let them take anything else from me.’

‘Darling.’ Her hands were warm, almost clammy. ‘It’s not like a Lyceum opening night where half the city’s present. It’s for a few people keen to support and preserve cinema.’

I extracted my hands and slid away. ‘But I don’t want Nosferatu preserved, Ellen. I want it destroyed.’ I hesitated. ‘Frankly, the risks to my future, to other writers as well, are too great. I can’t afford to let it be shown.’

Ellen was about to help herself to another of the delicate cakes when she paused. ‘Surely, the stage version of Mr Deane’s compensates you nicely. I hear it’s very successful.’

‘It is. Only —’ How did I admit that while it helped, I only received a small percentage, and Mr Bang took a generous cut of that? ‘It will never compensate the way a Hollywood film would. What they’d pay, the reach it would have. Imagine, Dracula in cinemas there, shown around the world … Bram’s name in lights. His creation conquering countries.’

Ellen lifted another small sponge cake from the plate and took a bite, a dollop of cream dotting the end of her nose. She chewed thoughtfully. ‘I think it would be no less than Ma deserves. But —’ She held up a finger to stop me interrupting. I’d been trying to alert her to the cream on her face. ‘Have you considered that maybe you’re too late? That Nosferatu has already escaped your attempts to contain it?’ Her eyes gleamed.

‘I have. It has.’ I released a long, weary sigh. ‘It’s exhausting. It doesn’t matter what injunctions are made, what the court order or the lawyers do, I can’t stop it. They cannot. Who are these people so keen to see me denied? They remind me of Renfield, doing the bidding of a master whose nefarious purpose they don’t understand.’ I threw up my hands. ‘Why should they? I don’t. Just as I don’t understand the power of this film, how it can defy the law. How it can even suborn my friends to act on its behalf and literally at my expense.’ I wagged an admonishing finger at Ellen.

‘Oh, Lemon,’ she said, clasping my finger. ‘If I believed for a moment our little screening was genuinely going to hurt you, of course I’d ensure it was cancelled.’

‘You would?’

‘Of course. Mr Montagu agrees. But —’

Of course there was a but.

‘Before you act rashly, have you thought about seeing Nosferatu for yourself?’

I stared at her in disbelief, then gave a bitter laugh. ‘I can’t be seen to endorse the film in any way, Ellen. Seeing it would be the worst thing I could do.’

Aware something was on the tip of her nose, she swiped the cream away, sucking her finger. ‘You know what I think, Lemon?’

I waited.

‘I think you’re afraid you might like it.’

‘Well,’ I said, reaching for the teapot and refilling our cups. ‘It’s a moot point, isn’t it? As we speak, Mr Thring, Mr Bang and their men are scouring London warehouses looking for the film. If it’s there, they’ll find it.’

They were like my own version of the Crew of Light, seeking out the hiding place of the celluloid vampire to end his attempt to conquer once and for all.

Ellen took the cup I offered, shaking her head in disappointment. ‘I hope you don’t live to regret this, Lemon.’

‘Regret it? Why would I?’

‘Because instead of being known as a champion fighting for her rights, for those of all authors, you could well be remembered as the awful woman who destroyed a cinematic masterpiece and denied it to the world.’

At least, I thought, I’d be remembered for something.