Dark Angel [antikvár]

January 2004 London It had taken courage for Tom Sedley to come up to London. Seeing his mother on the screen always stirred bad memories. But there she was now, the monochrome face smiling down at him in the cinema by the Thames, and it was all right. And yet, seeing those hauntingly alluring eyes which his dead sister Sara had inherited, being here in the city where it had all happened, he couldn't help feeling uneasy. And guilty that so much remained unresolved after so many years. It wasn't Maureen Stuart herself who was being celebrated in this retrospective at the National Film Theatre, but the whole genre of Second World War films produced in Britain in the 1940s and '50s. She'd starred in several of them. Somehow the NFT researchers had tracked Tom down and invited him to a viewing as bait for the média. He'd thought long and hard before accepting. London with its bittér associations was a place that he tried to avoid. But eventually he'd decided to attend. The showing had been preceded by a buliét lunch, where he'd been interviewed about his mother by a couple of young journalists whose reading