Audrey Hepburn: An Intimate Portrait (49 page)

She
flew to New York and Los Angeles to honor Fred Astaire and Hubert de Givenchy,
reacquainting herself with old friends in both places and introducing them all
to Wolders. “I was beyond middle age,” she recalled, “and it
felt like I was going to my own coming-out parties.”

Back
in Switzerland, the Baroness became progressively more feeble. Audrey and
Wolders took turns feeding her and keeping a bedside vigil. “I was
extremely attached to my mother,” Audrey said. “She was my lifeline.
Her intelligence and bravery kept me alive during the war. I idolized her. She
was not the most emotionally showy person—in fact, there were times I thought
she was cold—but she loved me in her heart, and I knew that all along. She had
been devastated by my father’s abandonment, too, probably more than me, but she
kept it to herself as best she could, to give me an example of strength.

“When
she died at Tolochenaz in 1984, she had been living there full-time for at
least a decade. I was lost without her. She was my sounding board, my
conscience. Without Robbie, I’m not sure I could have survived her death. But
he was there, too, and he had memories of her as well, so together, we talk
about her a lot and it helps keep her presence alive.”

But
the next few years turned out to be difficult ones for Audrey. She had devoted
so much time and attention to her mother that her days seemed empty once she
didn’t have her to nurse. She halfheartedly agreed to do a television movie
with Robert Wagner, but
Love Among
Thieves,
which aired on ABC in 1987, was poorly received. “Audrey
Hepburn is done wrong again,” wrote John Leonard in
New York
magazine.

For
about three hours a day, she used her garden as therapy. She turned the soil
and fertilized, weeded her beloved lilies of the valley, pruned her white
roses. In an old pair of jeans and a big straw hat, she made sure her tomato
plants had enough sun and water. But she was biding her time, trying to fill it
with busywork to avoid feeling the pain of loss.

“I
could have let it be known I wanted to return to films, and I would have been
very busy. But the truth is, I didn’t want to go back. I had no desire to
return to that kind of work. I wanted to do something worthwhile. I feel funny
even now phrasing it that way: ‘worthwhile.’ But I wanted to give back a little
of my good fortune—share the wealth, so to speak.

“There
were many charities that had asked for my help over the years. I discussed all
of them with Robbie. He and I thrived on each other’s company. I didn’t want to
take on more than I could handle, than our relationship could sustain. But he,
too, felt it was time to start giving back. It’s an urge that’s selfish more
than altruistic—you know you’re going to feel better by helping others. It’s a
wonderful realization, and it hit both of us square between the eyes at about
the same time.”

Chapter 26

The
woman who couldn’t physically bear any more children decided to bear the burden
of children around the world in 1988.

Audrey
had always felt a profound connection to children, as if she were more on their
wavelength than on adults‘. She had this uncanny knack for making a face or a
sound that would totally captivate the imagination of a child. The fact is, she
could communicate without words.

Shirley
MacLaine remembers that while making
The
Children’s Hour
with Audrey in 1962, Sean Ferrer was totally enthralled by
his mother. “I just about stood on my head for that boy, and he only had
eyes for his mummy. I usually can charm the pants off babies, but I met my
match in Audrey. And she didn’t even try! It just came naturally.

“She
was a healer, too. If she saw someone suffering, she tried to take on their
pain. She knew how to love. That’s why her work with UNICEF was the perfect
marriage. She couldn’t stand the idea of children having pain.”

Her
involvement with the United Nations Children’s Fund was a gradual development.
Over the years, she had been asked to support various UN causes with her
presence, and she had gladly given of her time. But Audrey wanted a more
concrete involvement. She wanted to make a real connection with the children,
instead of passively using her celebrity status to raise money and awareness.

“It
all goes back to the war. We had really been starving. That hurts, you
know—physically. It causes enormous pain, because it’s a gigantic strain on
the organs to operate without fuel.

“Of
course, there’s the emotional pain, too. I’m sure we all know about that, but
somehow we ignore it as not quite real. Yet I’d like people to know about the
physical pain. For a while we had nothing but tulip bulbs. Of course, they can
be pulverized into a fine flour and you can make a tasty cake from
it—provided, of course, you have the milk and eggs to go with it! If not, it’s
just a hopeful thought. Well, during the war that’s what I had most of—a lot
of hopeful thoughts—but not much real food.