“Take care of yourself, Mel,” he said in a husky voice. “Let me know if I can do anything to help. I’ll keep an eye on the house,” and then he whispered in her ear, “I love you.”
“Me too,” she whispered back, got on the golf cart next to Michaela, put an arm around her, and they took off with a wave at Norm, who stood waving at them, and then went back to the garage to get his car and drive into the city for the night. He was going to call a friend to have dinner with him.
“Thank you for coming to meet me,” Michaela said as they went outside in the cart and crossed the airport. With the VIP service with the golf cart that David had arranged, they were able to check in for the British Air flight on time. They were escorted to a first-class lounge and given a private room out of sight, and then escorted onto the plane an hour later when it was ready to board. The airline personnel addressed Michaela with seriousness, knowing why she was going to Edinburgh. Marla was all over the news by then and had been all day.
There were four first-class seats on the flight, and they had two of them. The service was excellent, and the food was good, but Michaela hardly touched it, and Melissa wasn’t hungry either. She covered her daughter with a blanket as soon as they boarded, and held her hand. When Michaela took her sunglasses off, Melissa could see that her eyes were red and swollen. She’d been crying since she heard the news about her mother.
“She wasn’t like other mothers, but she was terrific and I loved her,” Michaela said softly, and Melissa nodded and tried to get her to close her eyes and get some sleep. Michaela was exhausted, and shortly after they took off, she was sound asleep with her head on Melissa’s shoulder, still holding her hand.
Melissa stayed awake for most of the flight, to keep an eye on her, and dozed intermittently. It was a seven-and-a-half-hour flight, and they landed in Edinburgh right on time. There were two airline executives, a ground agent, most of the production crew, and an airport policeman to meet them, and a representative from the U.S. embassy in Edinburgh to assist them too. They were shepherded quickly out of the airport into a waiting van, to make the two-hour trip to the town where they’d been shooting. It was a small village, and looked surprisingly primitive and antiquated, which was why they had used it. They drove past the site of the crash, with a burned crater in the ground. Michaela gasped and burst into tears again. They were taken to the nearest hospital, where the police had brought Marla’s remains to the morgue after the crash. The other victims of the crash were there too. Their relatives were due to arrive later that day. Michaela and Melissa had been the first to arrive.
Melissa had texted Norm as soon as they landed, that they were there safely. It was just after midnight in New York, and he was still out to dinner with his friend, but relieved to hear from her. He was worried about her. Identifying Marla’s body after the crash would be a terrible experience, and she wanted to spare Michaela from having to do it.
The producer of the movie was very kind, and the head of the hospital had volunteered his office so they could have some privacy.
Melissa left Michaela there, with her permission, and went with the producer to identify the charred remains. It was more of a formality, since they had gotten dental charts emailed by her dentist, and there was no question that she’d been on the helicopter and there were no survivors. Melissa felt deeply shaken by the experience, and they went back to Michaela quickly in the private office where she was waiting and talking to David on her phone.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Melissa with a grateful look.
The producer explained to Melissa then that they were waiting for local authorities to sign the necessary papers to release the body, so they could fly her home. They hoped to have them by that night. The pilot’s widow was just entering the hospital when they left. They were driven back to Edinburgh then, where the producer had booked a suite in the best hotel. Photographers took their pictures as they entered, and they were quickly taken to the suite. Michaela was looking dazed, and Melissa was feeling sick from what she’d seen at the hospital. Someone poured her a cup of tea and handed it to her in the suite, which had two bedrooms and a living room.
She put Michaela to bed, and pulled down the shades, and she just lay there, staring at the ceiling, and Melissa went back to the living room of the suite to talk to the producer. He looked as devastated as she felt. He knew Marla well.
“I can’t believe this happened,” he said to Melissa.
“None of us can.”
“I’ve known her for thirty years. I worked on my first movie with her. We’re chartering a plane to take her home.” The production company was sparing no expense for the most famous actress in America. It was going to be a lot easier than taking two flights to get the casket to L.A. Marla’s trusted assistants were already working on the funeral arrangements. She was going to be buried privately with her late husband. And there was going to be a private funeral service, by invitation only, with heavy security, and no press allowed at the Church of the Good Shepherd. The rest hadn’t been decided yet, except that Michaela had told David that she wanted lily of the valley and white orchids, which were Marla’s favorite flowers, and her assistants were ordering them. They were doing everything possible to keep it from being a circus, which was no easy feat with the press hounding them. LAPD had put police barriers around Marla’s home, and they were keeping fans and gawkers at bay. People had been standing in her street crying since that morning, as soon as the story of her death had hit the news.
* * *
—
Michaela slept for a few hours and then wandered around the suite like a ghost, but she didn’t want to leave the hotel. Fans were already gathering outside. Someone had leaked to the press that Marla’s daughter was there.
The Scottish authorities signed the death certificate by six o’clock that night, and the paperwork to allow them to remove the body and leave the country with it. There had been no foul play, so they released it. And at nine o’clock, a chartered Boeing 737 was waiting at the Edinburgh Airport, ready to take her home. Michaela left the hotel by a back door with Melissa. The producer was staying in Edinburgh to deal with the families of the two male stars. They were sending their bodies home on commercial flights, which was more complicated. They had bent all the rules and cut through all the red tape to release Marla’s remains as fast as possible, but they weren’t able to do it for all three.
The plane took off at ten o’clock as soon as their flight plan was approved. It was going to be a twelve-hour flight, due to land at LAX at two a.m. local time. A police escort was waiting to accompany Marla’s body in the casket to the funeral home, where she was to be cremated. A separate motorcade was waiting to take Michaela to her home with Melissa. Crowds were already gathering in the street and at the airport, to get a glimpse of Michaela, or the casket. The street where Marla lived had been closed since that morning, with thousands of people laying flowers in the street outside her home, and just standing there crying. There was a candlelight vigil that night, which the police made no attempt to stop, although it tied up the whole neighborhood for blocks, and residents who drove in had to leave their cars blocks from their homes. In her death she was being treated like royalty, and Melissa wondered what Marla would have thought of it, since she seemed like a sensible person. But she was a Hollywood legend, the last of the great, glamorous stars. Other movie stars had been interviewed all day, paying tribute to her, which they did lavishly.