Lauren Bacall - By Myself and Then Some

Later that day when it would be least obtrusive I went into Bogie’s dressing room and told him what Howard had said to me. He stroked my hair and my face and said, ‘No, Baby, he won’t send you to Monogram – don’t you worry, you’re too valuable to him. He just can’t stand to see your attention diverted from him, that’s all – he’s jealous. And I do mean what I say to you. We just must be very careful – I don’t want you to be hurt. And if Madam [his name for Mayo] finds out, you could be hurt, and I couldn’t stand that. But don’t worry about Howard – his nose is out of joint, that’s all.’ And of course he was right – Howard was losing control and he didn’t like that. And I owed him a great deal – he’d done everything for me, and though I was afraid of him, I did like him and respect him. But I’d have to be more careful of my demeanor.

A few days after that we were to shoot me singing ‘How Little We Know.’ That was to be a full day of me, Hoagy, a lot of extras, and no Bogie. I had prerecorded the song and was to sing the playback, which is not easy, particularly for a novice. Howard was satisfied with the recording, though he thought one or two notes might have to be dubbed later on. Bogie and I planned to have dinner together that night, with me cooking. The menu would be hamburgers, baked potato, and a salad. A cook I wasn’t. He called me on the set in the afternoon – he’d call me at home later to make sure I’d returned.

At the end of that long day, Howard put his arm around me and said, ‘You did a really good day’s work, Betty, I’m proud of you.’ That’s the only true compliment he ever paid me. It was hard for him. I was pleased that he was satisfied – I thanked him – but he didn’t know who I was on my way to as I left the studio.

H ow do you know when you’re in love? I had no basis for comparison. Every emotional involvement I’d had before – like Kirk – I’d thought was love, but it wasn’t. I was almost sure I loved Bogie – and more than that, that he was in love with me. We shared so much – understood so much about each other.

We started to drive home together, leaving the studio with Bogie in the lead in his car, me following in mine. We drove over Highland Avenue, turned right on Hollywood Boulevard to Franklin, then another right onto Selma Avenue, a small street that was curved and very residential – almost no traffic would pass through.

We’d pull over to the side and he’d come over to my car. There we would sit, holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes, saying all the things we couldn’t say at the studio. We’d sit on our street for fifteen or twenty minutes, dreading the moment of parting, then he’d get into his car and off we’d go, making the turn at Laurel Canyon Boulevard to Sunset Boulevard, continuing on until we reached Horn Avenue, where Bogie lived. As he made the turn, he’d wave his hand out the window – I’d do the same and go on to Beverly Hills. It was romantic – it was fun – it was exciting – it was all-encompassing.

I’d never known anyone remotely like Bogie. As he revealed more of his life to me, I realized that it had been complicated and rough. Though he’d never had children, he’d always had responsibilities. His father had died in his arms and left him ten thousand dollars of debt and a ring – gold with two rubies and a diamond – which Bogie always wore. His mother had been an artist – Maud Humphrey – and had drawn Bogie a great deal for children’s food ads and books. Bogie had been known as the ‘Maud Humphrey Baby.’ She evidently was strong – a suffragette. He admired her, but she was not warm or affectionate. She died of cancer when she was seventy. And he had two sisters – Kay and Pat. Kay had been a gay girl during speakeasy days – laughing, drinking, burning herself out so that she died in her thirties. Pat had been the quiet one – madly in love with her husband and he with her – mother of a lovely daughter. Tragically struck down when a young woman by an illness that would plague her all her life – divorced and left with only Bogie to take care of her, emotionally and financially. Bogie looked after his sister always – loved her and was constantly saddened by the rotten hand she had been dealt. She was goodness incarnate. So, not including his three failed marriages, he had had burdens to bear.

He was a gentle man – diametrically opposed to most of the parts he played. He detested deceit of any kind. He had never had a secret relationship such as we were having. Our drives home, foolish jokes, kidding on the set, all the behavior of kids in love – he’d never known. Nor had I. I had so many new feelings all at once. I was in awe of him and his position of ‘movie star.’ I was aware of being nineteen and he forty-four, but when we were together that didn’t seem to matter. I was older than nineteen in many ways and he had such energy and vitality he seemed to be no particular age. I was an innocent sexually – Bogie began awakening feelings that were new to me. Just his looking at me could make me tremble. When he took my hand in his, the feeling caught me in the pit of my stomach – his hand was warm, protecting, and full of love. When he saw me at the beginning of the day and when he called me on the telephone, his first words were always ‘Hello, Baby.’ My heart would literally pound. I knew that physical changes were happening within me – the simplest word, look, or move would bring a gut reaction. It was all so romantic – I would not have believed Bogie was so sentimental, so loving. I couldn’t think of anything else – when I wasn’t with him I was thinking of him, or talking about him. One-track-minding with a vengeance. My friend from Johnny 2 × 4, Carolyn Cromwell, came to stay with me for about ten days. She was madly in love with a music publisher named Buddy Morris, who was married with three children. So she’d tell me everything about Buddy and I’d tell her everything about Bogie. Talking our loves out loud made them seem more possible.

And I wanted to give Bogie so much that he hadn’t had. All the love that had been stored inside of me all my life for an invisible father, for a man. I could finally think of allowing it to pour over this man and fill his life with laughter, warmth, joy – things he hadn’t had for such a long time, if ever. My imagination was working overtime.

What would my mother think of all this? She knew nothing about me and Bogie. I hadn’t even given her a slight indication – no doubt for fear she’d rush back to California too quickly. Without her I was free to think only of him, this man who made every day brighter because he was in it. Oh God, what would I do when I couldn’t see him every day – when the picture was over? How could I live? But I would see him somehow. He wanted it as much as I did, I was sure he did. There was always a tiny element of doubt in mind about my luck. Early training. He had to love me – he had to!

So the days passed, and the weeks, and the movie would end soon. Mother came back from New York. I was happy to see her, but I knew that trouble would start when she found out about Bogie. I said nothing – just told her about the movie, how it was going, about all the interviews I’d been giving, about Howard bringing Paul Lukas on the set one day to surprise me. One night when we were asleep the phone rang – Bogie, of course. He’d gotten out of the house after a big drunken fight with Mayo – would I meet him around the corner? I never hesitated for a second – whenever he called, I was there. I jumped into slacks and sweater. Mother stuck her head up: ‘What’s going on? Where are you going?’ Me: ‘I’m going to meet Bogie. I have to. I’ll explain it all to you later.’ She: ‘Are you crazy? Get right back into bed!’ When my mind was made up, my mind was made up. ‘I will not get back into bed. Please , Mother, don’t worry.’ And out the door. Into my car and around the corner to Rodeo Drive and Wilshire Boulevard. There was Bogie with Jimmy Gleason, whom he’d met at some bar. I ran up the street – arms open wide, hair flying – to Bogie’s smiling face and safe embrace. We sat in the car for a while – Gleason didn’t know or care what was going on – it was just that Bogie had to see his Baby. What it felt like to be so wanted, so adored! No one had ever felt like that about me. It was all so dramatic, too. Always in the wee small hours when it seemed to Bogie and me that the world was ours – that we were the world. At those times we were.