by P. G. Glynn
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.’”
Listening, Guy heard De la Mare’s immortal words given a vivid depth to them. It was an extraordinarily mature interpretation from one so young. His spine tingled at the prospect of Suzy’s next offering.
Taking a deep breath, she addressed the auditioning panel: “For my piece of prose I’ve chosen something by Rudyard Kipling. I trust I’ll do it justice. Here it is:
‘Once upon a time, or rather at the birth of Time, when the gods were so new that they had no names, and Man was still damp from the clay of the pit whence he had been digged, Man claimed that he, too, was in some sort a god.
The gods weighed his evidence and decided that Man’s claim was good.
Having conceded Man’s claim, the legend goes that they came by stealth and stole away this godhead, with intent to hide it where Man should never find it again. But this was not so easy. If they hid it anywhere on Earth the gods foresaw that Man would leave no stone unturned till he had recovered it. If they concealed it among themselves they feared Man might batter his way up even to the skies.
And while they were all thus at a stand, the wisest of the gods said, ‘I know. Give it to me!’ He closed his hand upon the tiny, unstable light of Man’s stolen godhead, and when that great hand opened again the light was gone. ‘All is well,’ said Brahm. ‘I have hidden it where Man will never dream of looking for it. I have hidden it inside Man himself.’”
There was stunned silence as Suzy finished casting her spell. Then Edward collected himself and said: “Tell me, Suzy, why you chose that particular piece.”
“Firstly because I love it,” she responded, “and secondly because I’d never thought before about Time having been born, nor about us all having a godhead hidden somewhere within us.”
“What is your understanding of that term?”
“‘Godhead’? Well, to begin with, I looked up the dictionary definition. That said: ‘The Divine essence, nature and attributes; the essential and divine nature of God regarded abstractly’. Then I read Rudyard Kipling’s words again … and again. At the end, it seemed to me that the term meant breath: the breath of God that is breathed into Man, and Woman, to give the clay life. We each have God in us, haven’t we? So, if even I know this, Brahm was wrong in thinking Man would never think of looking within!”
She was so earnest … so talented. Suzy’s assessors were suitably impressed.
+++++
Of all her classes, she thought she probably liked Improvisation best. Very different from any class she had ever attended at Henry VIII Grammar in Abergavenny, it afforded plenty of scope for self-expression. The other benefit was that her tutor was Edward.
Suzy remembered him from when she was ten, as well as from her audition. She remembered liking him better than James, his brother, and thinking that he had smiling eyes. These days she really liked doing or saying things that made him smile. Which was not difficult, since he taught Mime as well as Improvisation, and some of her mimes set everyone smiling.
She wondered whether he had a girlfriend. She supposed he did, because he was tall and broad-shouldered and his skin didn’t look as if it had ever had a pimple. Not like the boys in Gilchrist, some seeming to have pimples on their pimples! But then, Edward wasn’t a boy: he was a man, who would just think of her as one of his students – and the youngest at that! How could she make him think of her differently?
Aunt Lenka could probably help. Suzy had the impression she was very knowledgeable about men. But she also felt that her aunt was still cross with her for saying she couldn’t stay in Vienna for a whole year. Aunt Lenka’s first letter, responding to Suzy’s giving the news of her acceptance at the Brodie School, had been very cool and dismissive – almost as if she didn’t care a jot whether Suzy came to stay or not. Things had improved since then but hadn’t returned to how they were originally. Suzy had found to her surprise that she didn’t mind as much as she might once have done. It was odd how life kept changing and making her review situations. Oddest of all was the fact that she had been longing for six years to go back to Vienna and, now that she would soon be going, she had stopped longing and started wondering whether Edward would miss her or whether it would just be her doing the missing!
“Suzy, is something wrong?”
Startled, she glanced up at the sound of Edward’s voice and saw that he was approaching her, looking concerned. She also saw the last of her fellow-students disappearing through the door. The class must be over and she hadn’t even noticed! “No,” she answered in some confusion. “I’m sorry. I must have been daydreaming.”
“Were they good daydreams?”
“I suppose so.” Feeling that he was expecting a fuller response, she went on: “I’d gone ahead of myself to the summer holidays.”
“Is that because you’re in a hurry to get away from us?”
“Oh, no!” She blushed. “It’s more because … I don’t especially want the term to end … even though I’m going to Vienna.”
“You are? Is that to visit your grandfather?”
“I’ll be seeing him while I’m there … but will be staying with my great-aunt.”
“How long for?”
“A month. Aunt Lenka wanted me to stay for a year, but … that would interfere too much with my studies.”
“True! Would you have liked to do as your aunt wished?”
“I thought I would, once. But that was when I was much younger. I’ve changed since then.”
Edward smiled, saying: “You’ve certainly changed a great deal since you were ten!”
So he remembered! Suzy coloured again. “I should hope I have,” she said. “You’ve changed, too.” There was a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite define. Could it possibly be pleasure at a shared memory? She added quickly: “That was a good party, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” he agreed, recalling the evening vividly. “I went along expecting it to be boring. Then,” he grinned, “an angel started singing. Do you remember what you sang, Suzy?” When she nodded dumbly he said: “It so happens that SOUTH PACIFIC, with Mitzi Gaynor and Rossano Brazzi, is on at the Dominion. For old times’ sake, would you like to go and see it with me?”
+++++
Now Marie was watching from the wings and the view was interesting. Suzy was coming into her own both as a fledgling woman and as an actress, which was sheer joy to watch. It was a little like seeing herself at the same age, except that she could never sing as Suzy did, besides which they had different destinies. Guy and Edward and all Suzy’s tutors – even cynical Ambrose Manning – agreed she had outstanding talent that should take her to the starry heights. Marie listened to them and smiled. Within her smile was the wish that Suzy would go everywhere her God-given gifts took her, resolutely refusing to be diverted as Marie had been. As July approached she was especially wishing for a speedy and safe return from Vienna, without harm done by Lenka.
She strongly felt that during the past year Suzy had developed in ways that would protect her. Through being the youngest student here she had needed to mature quickly and become an accurate assessor of character in order to interpret roles and improvise skilfully. Her new attributes would stand her in excellent stead in Vienna and Marie believed that she would soon have Lenka’s measure. Besides, Otto would be nearby if Suzy needed him – and she had a good pair of legs on which to run to her grandfather if necessary. Marie regretted that Suzy was due to suffer disillusionment, but this too would be put to good use in future role interpretations.
Nothing in life was wasted, it seemed to Marie. Each experience – good and bad - counted in building character and personality. Looking back on her own life, Mar
ie felt grateful for every event that had helped to shape her into the woman she was today. She might not be the famous actress she had planned to be but she had gained peace of mind finally and was fulfilled in helping others achieve their dreams.
It was also fulfilling to work with Guy because he was so sensitive in his handling of students and yet so authoritative. No question but that he was very influential in their success because his classes created an environment for growth and also for people to reap their individuality. He somehow achieved the feat of being strict and at the same time relaxed. And he had a happy knack of knowing just when to praise and when to take the wind from a bighead’s sails. In short, he was a born teacher – but one oblivious to his natural talents. Guy was also still oblivious to the passing of any need to hero-worship Marie. Far from being some lofty icon, she was a woman of flesh and blood who could possibly be encouraged to see him as something more than a man growing in the image of his father …
Marie turned her thoughts to Edward then. Or, rather, she turned them to Edward and Suzy – who glowed whenever Guy’s son was mentioned. Tonight they had gone together to the Theatre Royal Drury Lane to see Julie Andrews and Rex Harrison in MY FAIR LADY. Doubtless Suzy would return starry-eyed, just as she did from seeing SOUTH PACIFIC. Strictly speaking, tutors and students at the School were discouraged from fraternising on a personal basis but there were exceptions to every rule and it seemed to both Marie and Guy that one applied to Edward and Suzy. Of course it was early days yet and Suzy had only just turned seventeen so there was no knowing where those two might be going – or not going – together. But there was a bond between them at the moment that gladdened the hearts of those witnessing it. And, Marie thankfully acknowledged, Edward might well feature in Suzy’s armoury of protection while she was with Lenka …
+++++
Little had she ever imagined that on the eve of her trip to Vienna she would be wishing she could stay in London! Both Daddy and Nama had told her that she could cancel the visit, but she had been planning it for seven whole years and felt committed to stick to her word. In opting out she would be letting herself and Aunt Lenka down. Quite why she would, Suzy didn’t know. It was queerly as if she had to go.
She believed her dream was integral to such a sense of compulsion. Yes, she was still dreaming of naked people and of running from that nipple through the streets of Vienna! The dream was so odd, and so repetitive, that there must be a reason why she dreamed it. How better to find out the reason than by exploring the scene of the dream?
But this would mean leaving Edward behind in London for a whole month! And then she would need to go home to Gilchrist, leaving him again – unless he went with her. How was she supposed to bear being parted from him?
Suzy didn’t know how. There were too many things she simply didn’t know.
“A penny for them. Or are they worth more than that?”
“My thoughts?” she responded to Edward across their table at the Trocadero. “I doubt they’re worth much – unless complexity adds to their value! They’re very complex.”
“I’m going to miss you.”
He was looking at her in that way he had of making her feel so special, but tonight she couldn’t seem to help feeling wretched. “Oh, and I’ll miss you too! Vienna seems a long way away, suddenly. Will you … write to me?”
“Only on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“That you’ll write back!”
Suzy grinned. “Of course I will! Writing might shrink the distance between us.”
“It might even shorten the month. Not that I should be wishing your holiday over before it’s begun.”
“I’m not sure whether it’s a holiday, or a … ”
Edward waited and watched as she sought the right phrase. Her expressive face registered perplexity and then – he believed – anxiety. To test his belief he prompted: “An obligation of some sort?”
Suzy considered carefully before responding: “Possibly. I do feel obliged to go, if only because Aunt Lenka’s expecting me. But I also have unsettling dreams about being in Vienna which I think will get better once I’ve been there. It’s a bit like having unfinished business. Does that make any sense?”
“Yes,” he said, “and no. How long have you been having these dreams?”
“Since I was ten or eleven, I suppose.” She blushed as she remembered having breasts in her Viennese dreams long before she actually had breasts. “I think they started soon after I met Aunt Lenka.”
Edward had seen the blush and, along with her whole demeanour, it had him worried. Reaching for Suzy’s hand across the table, he said: “Stop me if I’m asking too many questions, but do you like your aunt?”
“I’m very fond of her.”
“Fondness is one thing, liking another.”
“I don’t honestly know whether I like her. When I was with her I found her fascinating.” There was a pensive pause before: “She can also be frightening.”
“Frightening? That’s a strong word, Suzy.”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” She bit her lip. “Perhaps it’s too strong. But Nama says Aunt Lenka is two people … and some of her letters have made me wonder whether Nama was right all along.”
“Right about what?”
Suzy couldn’t say it … couldn’t give voice to the word murderess. Not when she had never voiced it: never allowed herself to credit that Aunt Lenka could actually have killed Nama’s little daughter. That was beyond imagining and would make nonsense of Suzy’s fondness. And yet something was making her apprehensive about the trip tomorrow – the more so as Edward probed. “Oh,” she said dismissively, “nothing, really! Nama and Aunt Lenka once lived together, with their respective husbands who were brothers, in the Berger castle in Czechoslovakia. They all seem to have hated each other. I’ve always aimed to view the past impartially and make sense of it for myself, which is why I won’t get involved in their hatred. Gosh, I expect you think we’re a very odd family!”
“No odder than mine.” Edward tried to smile.
Conscious of his grip on her hand having tightened and of the effort that had gone into his smile, Suzy queried gently: “In what way is yours odd?”
“I’ve never told this to anyone, but I’m telling it to you because it seems like the right time and the right thing to do: my mother left my father and ran off to New York with … another woman.”
“Golly gosh!” Suzy tried not to show that she was shocked. “Do you mean that she was … ?”
“ … a Lesbian,” he said, when Suzy failed to finish her question. “Yes. Maybe she wasn’t when she had James and me, but she certainly was by the time she ran off with Dorothy.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Terrible, at the time. James and I both agree that that was the very worst period of our lives. It can’t have been much fun for Father, either, although he … ”
“ … he what?” Suzy prompted when Edward looked stricken.
“I’ve already said too much. I’d best stop.”
“No, don’t do that. Let’s swap.”
“You mean, if I tell you, you’ll tell me why your Nama might have been right all along?”
Suzy nodded and said: “I’ll start, if that helps.” When he indicated with a gesture that it did, she told him: “Nama warned me from the beginning that Aunt Lenka was not to be trusted because she had once … killed someone.”
“Killed them? Who did she kill?”
“We don’t know that she did. She told me that a mad old uncle did the killing.” Suzy saw the question in Edward’s eyes and provided the answer: “It was Carla who died – Nama’s and Charles’s child.”
“Christ!”
“You didn’t know about her?”
“No, I didn’t.” Edward drank until he had emptied his wine-glass, then said: “It’s turning out to be a night of revelations, isn’t it? Which brings us to fulfilling my end of our bargain. I was in the middle of saying tha
t the manner of Mother’s defection obviously mattered to Father, but that I think it was cushioned for him by … Marie.”
“Nama? Does your father love her, as well as your grandfather?”
“He doesn’t just love her. I’m sure that he’s in love with her – and always has been, right from the age of ten, when he was Oliver Twist and she was Nancy. The trouble is, he’s also in awe of her, so things have never developed in the way he … might have wished.”
“Might she also wish it, do you think?”
He smiled then, feeling somehow cleansed. “I just think it’s … interesting.”
“So do I! The things that are going on here are even more interesting than those that might be going on in Vienna.”
“Suzy, darling, I have a bad feeling about your trip. Would you consider not going tomorrow?”
“I have to go,” she told him, warmed through by the darling. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t just consider it. I’d stay here with you.”
“Then promise me something: promise me to trust your instinct and leave your aunt’s at once if you start to have bad feelings.”
“I promise.”
62
Otto rode to the airport in a taxi he was paying for himself and wore a bespoke suit that he had had specially made for the occasion. He wanted to look smart for Suzy. He habitually looked smarter than he did on her last visit and was proud that his new image had been achieved by his own efforts. It had taken him a lifetime to realise that earning a living brought more than monetary reward. It also brought a sense of purpose and self-worth: a fulfilment of sorts. Oh, the times Marie had tried to tell him this … oh, how he wished he had listened! Had he only done so he would never have been tempted back to Bohemia by that contract and Marie might still be his wife in more than name. She would certainly still be an actress. He had wronged her, taking her away from the stage.
