Heart Throb
My hero...
I once had a date – two in fact – with Cary Grant. It was 1971, I hadn’t yet moved permanently to L.A. and I was fixed up by a friend of his, a journalist I knew in London. I called him up and the butler put him on. “Hell-o Fe-o-na,” he said, in that oh so familiar voice. He invited me for a drink. So I drove over to his place, a rather modest latticed-windowed house in Beverly Hills, where we sat outside for cocktails.
Silver haired, evenly tanned, still handsome in his tailored grey slacks and sports shirt, he immediately berated me – gently at first, and with considerable charm – for being an actress. Or wanting to become a successful actress. ( I’d done a couple of movies in England by then.)
With Katherine Hepburn in "Bringing Up Baby"
For our second date,he flew me to Catalina Island with his then very young daughter Jennifer, by his ex-wife Dyan Cannon, and the nanny.
The views were magnificent, the Pacific dazzling, but we spent the whole day arguing...and not so gently this time. I tried to defend my profession, but he was adamant. Everything about the movie business was an atrocious waste of time. A big sham. “My career, would have been better spent raising children,” he said. “And yours would be too!” Why couldn’t I see this, stubborn young girl that I was.
Catalina Island
With Katherine Hepburn in "Philadelphia Story"
Well, I said, my English manners still intact, perhaps so, but hadn’t he given millions of fans so much pleasure with his films? Me included. He didn’t care. Movies left him cold.
"Bringing up Baby"
Two days later, he called me up to ask if I wanted to go bowling–– again with his daughter. Bowling? I had to admit I was unfamiliar with the sport. A lengthy silence. I realized then it wasn’t necessarily he but Jennifer who needed a date. Or perhaps a new mother. I gracefully declined. As a determined actress, one who definitely did not bowl, the relationship was a non-starter.
Grant in the 70's
