Will it be a movie - or a mini-series? Time will tell, but we are telling all. PsychoBusters, The Movie
The Melinda and Wendy
The black Bentley Limo rolled up to the
curb at St. James Episcopal Church after circling the block. Inside,
the jump seat emptied as Lady Wendy, Viscountess Mandeville, stepped
out of the car wearing a deep blue dress, banded in narrow white
accents at the neckline and sleeves.
People were quietly filing into the
church. Lady Wendy paused, taking in the sense of mourning.
Next out of the Bentley was her
husband, Lord Alexander, Viscount Mandeville, followed by Michael
Jackson.
Lady Wendy later had a hard time
remembering who else she saw. From the time she had heard Princess
Diana had died of her injuries she had been caught up in shock. The
things which stayed with her were the vivid moments which resonated
with her own sense of loss and shock.
On the way home from a friends she had
seen automobiles stopped at the side of the road. One driver's head
was down on her steering wheel, crying. Walking into her home, next
to the 405 Freeway in Costa Mesa, a 900 square foot, two bedroom
condo, with one tiny bath, she felt numb. She had never met Diana,
never imagined she would – but knowing she was in the world had
become a bright place on her horizon.
As the week unfolded Wendy followed
every piece of news.
When Diana had married in 1981 it had
seemed like a fairy tale, a girl finding true love, something Wendy
had also, like so many girls, begun to dream of. As her own life had
moved forward Wendy had also understood the shocks Diana had endured
as her marriage unraveled into something very different.
Staying up through the night of the
funeral service, tears streaming down her face, Wendy had grieved
with most of the world for the People's Princess, as her husband,
Lord Alex snored beside her, just as he had when she woke him to tell
him Diana had died of her injuries on August 31st.
When Alex called Wendy at work with the
news there would be a memorial service in Los Angeles, several days
later, had seemed like a chance for closure, to say goodby. Calling
her at work was something Alex did not seem to be able to help doing.
Not working himself, he was a stay-at-home mom to their son, Alex,
Jr.
Wendy's job as a receptionist at a
prestigious law firm provided a sanctuary from a marriage which had
rapidly devolved into a nightmare. The job also keep the rent paid,
when Alex actually decided to write a check. Wendy enjoyed her time
at the office, where life was more normal, she had been there since
she was 20 years old.
As Alex told her about the service
Wendy felt slightly giddy. Marriage to an English peer had been
starkly without any of the accoutrements of glamor or privilege
before. They could barely afford their small condo and the bills were
never really entirely paid.
To somehow be closer to the woman who
had inspired her, and so many people around the world, this would be
worth remembering.
Alex had called to tell her, as he
often did, he was going to see a 'business associate,' who did
detailing on high end cars near Beverly Hills. Wendy no longer wanted
to know what kind of 'business' Alex was into anymore. Too much water
under that bridge. Just a few weeks before Alex, Jr. was born in 1993
Alex had called to tell her he was, 'alright.' and the accident was
not his fault. As it turned out, it was his fault. He had totaled her
last car, a modest but sturdy Nissan, which she had proudly bought
new. Alex used her insurance money to put a down payment on the
Jaguar he wanted. She had to dig into her 401K to prevent it from
being repossessed, soon after the baby was born.
But when the phone rang a couple of
hours later in her word day his voice was filled with real
excitement.
“Wendy! You are not going to
believe this. My friend Mark at the detailing shop, has talked to
Michael Jackson and he wants to come with us to the Memorial Service,
and bring Elizabeth Taylor.”
The next days were
chaos. Liz had not been able to make it, but Michael had met them at
the detailing shop so they could drive, together, to St. John's for
the service. Later, a letter of apology, and flowers arrived from Ms.
Burton. Wendy, as was their practice, wrote the thank you note for
Alex to send.
It was as if she
had entered another world. Listening to the service, Michael Jackson
sitting beside her, seemed unreal at first. Then, the words of the
hymn brought back the enormity of Diana's death and the reality of
her own very different life. She tried to stop the tears but they
began to well up in her eyes. She felt as a shock of understanding
and comfort, Michael's touch as, sensing her pain, he put his arm
around her back and gave her a warm and gentle hug.
After the memorial
ended, the minister leaned in, speaking briefly to Michael. They were
to leave out of the rear of the church. The media had been notified
of his presence.
Walking out into a
blaze of cameras Wendy felt like the proverbial deer in the
headlights.
Then, they were
walking into the suite at the Hyatt Alex had managed to get by
telling the management, yet again, he was the Ambassador for the
Royal Family. Briefly, Wendy cringed. She knew well he had never met
any one of them.
The next two hours
were magic, as Michael played hide and seek with Little Alex as his
father filmed and made comments.
From some deep
place within her Wendy knew why it was important to Michael to be at
the service, as it was for her. Diana represented a way out of the
quagmire which was life for so many, no matter how poor, or how
privileged.
This is a story which will take you through the full spectrum of emotions.
No comments:
Post a Comment