“I do not want in any way to discourage any of our students. In fact, here you will find us being more supportive and encouraging of even our most struggling or…shall I say, lesser talented students?”
She gave them a knowing look and smile, and they all chuckled.
“However, Amy is what I would say an exceptional candidate, so this is just between the three of us and not to leave this room, so as to not get trapped into her young subconscious. OK?”
Both Frank and Theresa Roberts nodded and looked eagerly at her.
“I will not know until we get to know Amy better here, but I have found over the years that the extraordinarily gifted students here often have the most sensitive natures and need to be handled more gently as such. Amy may fall into this category or maybe not, but I always try and err on the side of caution just in case. Anyway, as we enroll a wide range of children with varying degrees of talent and skills, we like to offer a very rigid and demanding scholastic program as well. Not all our graduates will go on to the professional stage, and for those that may not we would hate to have them go out into the world, pursuing whatever it might be that they eventually work at, if it is not the performing arts, with no real education at all other than our instruction in the field. Make sense?”
Again the Roberts both nodded and smiled appreciating Paulette’s great concern for all her students at the school, even those that might not be cut out for the professional theatre.
“I do not think we will see that issue with Amy, but we have also found that having a good academic education can often be of great assistance with our graduates that go on to be professional actors, singers, whatever.”
With that, Frank and Theresa Roberts left the school thoroughly satisfied that Amy was in good hands. And so she was. As Paulette Kingman had imagined, Amy thrived at the Sylvia Young School and after just a few years had blossomed into an amazing talent, the likes of which had rarely been seen in the school’s history. Through some contacts she had nurtured over the years, Paulette pulled some strings at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts (LAMDA) and was able to secure a slot for Amy. LAMDA is a quite selective and prestigious organization, and Amy was stunned when Paulette came to her one day to give her the good news. She went off to LAMDA walking on clouds and threw herself into the program there completely. The pace and curriculum there was brutal, like nothing Amy had ever been exposed to before, but she adapted and was soon one of the school’s brightest rising stars.
Amy left LAMDA when she was just turning eighteen, as all her advisors and instructors felt they had nothing more to offer her in her professional development. They gave her a rough set of guidelines to follow, and she was off to the wilds of London to make a name for herself. The size and other challenges of such a large city were nearly overwhelming to Amy, but she kept her focus and plowed ahead as she began the arduous ordeal of auditions and interviews for roles. She soon realized that the competition in the real world far surpassed anything she had ever been exposed to at either Sylvia Young or LAMDA. However, she refused to be beaten down and tried her best not to let the rejections and refusals that were coming at her in a blitz with each new audition deter her from her dreams.
Over time, Amy was able to attain a few roles in some of the lesser-known theatres of London, but even there the parts were minor characters and before she realized it, nearly ten years had gone by, and she had yet to land any roles that she was so sure she would have had no trouble being cast in. In her heart, she knew she had the talent for them, and as she watched the final productions, saw other performers that she quite frankly knew she was better than. However, what she felt and what she imagined in her heart were of little comfort and consequence when she was relegated to a background role, or even worse just another member of the audience. One morning, when the weather outside the flat Amy was sharing with about three or four other aspiring actresses was as bleak and gloomy as her mood, she decided that she just could not go on like this anymore.
If you were supposing as you read along that Amy went wildly melodramatic and considered just cashing it all in with a possible suicide attempt, you would be sadly mistaken. Not that she had not had those thoughts in some of her darker moments. But no…as her funds were running thin, and her prospects for getting into a show in a significant role of any kind seemed as slim as her bank account, Amy decided to just pack it in and head back to Swinson. It was killing her to have to retreat to the safety and protection of her parents’ home, but she just needed a break, she supposed. Being low on money was a big part of her decision, but the overall driving force sending her home, with her pride and self-worth badly bruised and beaten down, was just not being able to deal with the seemingly unending series of rejections any longer.
Frank and Theresa welcomed her home with open arms and only discussed her time away at school and in London trying to get into the business if Amy brought up the subject. They could see the disappointment and depression in her eyes and did not want to add to her problems. For a few days, Amy just stayed close to home, but soon she saw that this routine was not helping. Initially, it had been nice as she adjusted to the shock—not just to her but to all those in Swinson who knew of her talents as well—of not having made it big in London. Amy did not, deep down, doubt herself, but at the same time, the emotional beating she had taken there had scarred her inside.
When Amy finally emerged from her self-imposed retreat at her folks’ home, she knew she had to get some work in town, and soon, if she was to make another run at what she knew was her life’s true calling. On a stroll around Swinson, Amy became aware of the revitalization effort of Lynch and his backers as they looked to set The Swinson Review up as a viable performing arts house. After dialing up Lynch to inquire about possible work there, Amy signed up with all he was willing to offer her: an usher. It was hard to swallow, but Amy finally accepted his meager offer hoping just being in the atmosphere of even a fledgling theatre—even here in isolated Swinson—would keep her inspired and motivated. And who knows, Amy said to herself as she hung up with Lynch after taking the job, maybe I can wheedle my way into one of the productions and keep myself sharp.
Once the theatre was refurbished and open for business, Amy put on her bravest face and did everything that Lynch asked of her as various dramatic productions were tried out in the new venue. However, despite her best efforts, Amy was getting anything but inspired and motivated while working as an usher. The productions being put on were simply boring at best and dreadful at worst relative to what she had done in her training as well as what she had seen in London, even the works she had landed minor crowd scene roles in. Being in a vicarious role at The Review was just not sitting well with Amy and rather than firing her up for a return to London to try again, it was making her even more depressed about her station than when she had first come home.
Soon her gloom and despair led to letting her not really perform the job she had been hired to do as well as she knew she should, and soon that led to bitterness and anger. As Amy watched the half-baked efforts at drama and music at The Review, she felt herself consumed with jealousy and envy. How, Amy said to herself over and over again as each night’s show went on, can these hacks be up on that stage, while I am stuck down here showing people to their seats? Not that the theatre was even half-full on most nights, but all the same it was galling to Amy who knew she could way outperform what she was watching. She had tried to get on Lynch’s good side in the hopes of getting a chance to show her chops, but all that had gotten her was a major eye roll from the manager.
She had heard the stories about Lynch and why he had been relegated to Swinson and even considered, in a few of her more desperate moments, of an assignation with him to get onstage. But also, as she had heard, his drinking had grown more of a problem these days, and even though she was just in her late twenties, it seemed Lynch was more focused on women even younger than herself in that regard. Probably just as well, she thought…he seemed totally opposed to her as a perform
er at all, and anything in that regard—that is making herself available to him sexually—would most likely be a waste of time and effort. Besides, Lynch was not aging well the thought of a liaison with Lynch made her quite nauseous.
……….
The only other full-time staff member at The Review was Sophia Lester. Sophia had just been in Swinson a couple of years after her family relocated there from Birmingham. Her father had undergone a serious health-related issue while they were there and had secured a sizeable pension from his former employer. While it would not fully support the family in Birmingham, the lower cost of living in Swinson made what he was receiving a good fit. Sophia was just nineteen and had only completed her secondary education when her father announced he was uprooting the family to Swinson. Like Amy, Sophia had once had ambitions to attend a dramatic arts school of some ilk, but once her father fell ill and then took the payout option from his former company, that dream just evaporated. It was not a matter of talent. From all indications, Sophia might have been every bit as talented as Amy with the proper training. She was not quite innately talented, but it was obvious to those who knew her well that all she needed was some instruction. But her family’s financial situation put the last nail in that coffin.
Sophia arrived in Swinson just about the same time as Amy had fled back home from London, and took the one other fulltime opening at The Review of selling and taking in purchased tickets in the front of the theatre each night there was a performance. As well, with her bubbly personality and indefatigable positivity, Lynch immediately saw her use for promotions and the little bit of marketing he had in mind for The Review’s offerings. Amy was a bit hurt that Sophia was being utilized in that latter role, but she also knew her attitude and frame of mind at the moment ruled her out of any possibility in that function. She also knew Sophia’s young age and smile and trim figure had been a key attribute in Lynch’s decision as well.
She figured it as just a matter of time before Lynch made a play for Sophia, based on his history, but she was not inclined to even give the girl any warning about this. Amy was not especially proud of her decision in this matter, but she was feeling so sad and lost these days, that she took on the “everyone for themselves” attitude with the perky little sprite from Birmingham. It was not like Sophia was a child…she could fend off the ogre that Lynch had morphed into just as well as anyone she supposed. It was snarky and perhaps small-minded, Amy thought, but so what? Let her sink or swim…
Seeing Through Lynch
Swinson, UK
July 2017
A few months went by, and though it was not the draw it had been as The Regent in the days of Rosalva, The Swinson Review was slowly gathering steam and Lynch had visions of possibly having the new venue break even by the end of the year. The crowds that flocked to the film nights were taking notice of the advertising of other options there, as well as being charmed by the promotions of Sophia up front. Amy was still a bit in the dumps over her situation, but she and Sophia had actually developed a growing…maybe friendship was still too strong a term…but for sure a close acquaintanceship as they worked the house.
Sophia had heard all the stories about Amy. In Swinson, it was hard to avoid them. Likewise, Sophia often dreamed of making it big in the theatre world on stage, but really had her doubts at times since she was never going to be able to afford any real professional instruction. When she had first met Amy, Sophia was jealous that Amy had had all the opportunities and training she longed for, but those feelings faded over time as they got to know one another better. What really shocked her was that despite all of Amy’s advantages in the field, she had still not been able to make her own dreams a reality. With that facing her, Sophia wondered if her own aspirations were just a bar too high for her to even reach. After all, with no instruction to speak of, how exactly was she going to compete?
As Amy had suspected, it had not been long before Lynch had Sophia in his sights and made a play for her, just as he had historically in London and Manchester, even though that was why he had been fired from both postings. Also, Amy had, though more out of spite and jealousy than anything else, left Sophia to fend for herself against Lynch, she saw that the young girl was more than capable of taking care of herself. Sophia related the tale of Lynch’s half-drunken pass at her to Amy. It had been late one evening when the manager had asked Sophia to remain behind to help rearrange some backstage sets. Amy supposed this scenario might have worked before—apparently, it had, or else Lynch would not have tried it with Sophia—but this time it fell flat.
Sophia just made herself scarce as she sensed the older man about to make his play for her, knowing that if she hung around, she might break out laughing at the pathetic, washed-up former successful theatre manager.
“Break out laughing?” Amy asked of Sophia as they shared a table at the lone pub in Swinson, The Cackling Crow, after work one night.
“Well…yeah…” Sophia replied, a look of incredulity on her face. “First of all, he’s old enough to be my dad…”
Amy snickered.
“Then there’s his appearance.”
Sophia just shuddered as she offered this bit and they both laughed. Amy had to agree on both points. She supposed that Lynch might have, at one time been passable in the looks department, but his devotion to the bottle and other proclivities had obviously taken their toll.
“So, you just left?” Amy asked as she sipped her beer.
“Like a fire was on my arse…” Sophia replied.
With that, they both burst out in a roar of laughter that drew looks of surprise and wonder from the smattering of other customers in the pub. Sophia blushed realizing she might have said that last comment a bit too loud.
“And what has he been like since?” Amy asked.
“Very scarce,” Sophia replied. “Guessing that was a response he did not know how to react to, though it allowed me to keep my job. At least for now, anyway. I am guessing laughter at your boss when he hits on you might be grounds for dismissal. Don’t you think?”
“I would think so, Sophia. Especially since there were no witnesses.”
Amy was impressed. Despite her youth, Sophia seemed mature beyond her years, and anything to put the damper on Lynch’s libido was fine with her. They clinked mugs and laughed again, but quieter this time to avoid any more questionable stares from around the pub.
“Can I ask you a question, Amy?”
“Shoot…”
“You grew up here in Swinson, right?”
“I did.”
“What do you know about the old theatre that The Review was built up from?”
“The Regent?”
“Yeah…I heard this talk last week about the old place and someone named Romano?”
“Rosalva. She was the real impetus behind the success of the old Regent Theatre back in the day, as the story goes. What can I tell you?”
“Is it true that she committed suicide in the theatre after getting injured in a performance?”
Amy set her mug down as the smile fell away from her lips. She had only heard of the tragedy of The Regent and Rosalva from her grandparents and other senior Swinson locals, but the tale, if true, was as sad as any she had heard. It was especially sad for Amy as she had once thought of herself as perhaps the new Rosalva once her career took off in London. After a deep breath, she sat back and regaled the young Sophia with what had happened that night and in the ensuing months after that led to Rosalva’s alleged suicide…at least as she had been told the legend, anyway.
“That’s horrible, Amy. You think it’s true?”
Amy shrugged.
“I’ve got no reason to believe otherwise. Why the sudden interest in The Regent?”
“Well…this guy keeps coming around the ticket office during the day when I am on duty. Malcolm Peters, he said his name was. Ever heard of him?”
“Can’t say the name rings a bell. What’s his story that made you want to hear about Rosalva and The Regent?”
“He left me his card.”
Sophia handed over the laminated business card.
“I looked him up on the internet. Seems he is one of these paranormal investigators. He’s written a few books, had some interviews on both TV and radio. Gets hired to check out places people think are haunted, holds séances to contact dead relatives for people…that kind of thing. You believe in that stuff?”
Amy shrugged again.
“Never really gave it much thought, I guess. Who knows? What does this have to do with The Swinson Review?”
“Well, he mentioned the old Regent and that he believes there might be some lingering…what was the phrase he used…oh, yeah…entities still in the building even though Lynch built up over the old place. Wants to get in touch with old spirits, I guess. Maybe this Rosalva since you say everyone here in Swinson believes she is still hanging around…”
“And?”
“Apparently he runs what he calls ‘haunted evenings’ as part of his business. From what I could discern on his website, they seem to be primarily marketing events for the curious so he can showcase his talents as a paranormal investigator. Get people interested in hiring him for the other gigs he runs. Wants to use the theatre one night when we are dark for one of these events.”
“Weird…”
“That was my feeling too. And you have to meet this guy to get the full picture.”
“Oddball?”
“That might be a bit too harsh, but he’s what my mom would call eccentric for sure.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Said I would have to run it by Lynch first.”
“So?”
“Well, I mentioned it to Lynch one of the few times I have run into him since…you know…and he just waved me off.”
“Just like that?”
“I guess Peters has been after Lynch for some time now to do one of these evenings at The Review, but he has not been interested.”
Haunted House Tales Page 107
