Bad Actor

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  “Mr Richards, it’s time.”

  Two and a half hours pass in a blur that by the time I get to the final bow, my eyes veer to the front row to seek reassurance this is all real. I catch Lily alongside everyone else – the crowd in a standing ovation. It isn’t a dream. I did it. I performed it. I don’t know how I did it. My nerves earlier felt like lead weights, but somehow, I did it. Now the next time I perform, I can actually enjoy it instead of trying to push back dread all the way through and avoid the front row’s reactions. Everyone is soon clapping me on the back as we filter through backstage, heading to the dressing rooms.

  I hear the words “amazing” and “didn’t know you could take it up yet another gear” and “a star is bloody born”.

  I gulp and make it into my dressing room, taking the chair and a towel, crying into it.

  “Thank you, Jesus,” I cry into the towel, glad it’s all over.

  When the towel’s covered in most of my make-up, I decide to strip and head into the shower. I want to get out there as soon as possible and see Lily and the cast, to thank them.

  I’m shaking with post-show excitement by the time I’ve pulled on some Levi’s and a blue shirt. Everyone bangs on the door at the same time but tonight, I’m ready and open up straight away, surprising them.

  One after the other, I hug the main cast in the corridor and we all thank each other, congratulate each other, share hugs like we just escaped the battlefield intact and our lives will never be the same again. We’ve all been through hell with Gustav’s last-minute changes and his whimsies, his late-night sessions and his demands to run over and over everything, again and again and again. I’m hoping that after tonight, it won’t feel so hard and it’ll become easier for us all, like settling into an pair of old slippers. We’re all fucking relieved and need a drink.

  Everyone pours out of the backrooms and heads out into the bar area, greeted by Gustav, one at a time. I wait behind and am the last one out. He embraces me and kisses me on each cheek.

  “Bravo, my son. Bravo,” he says emotionally. “You really did it. You really did.”

  It takes a while for him to let go before Lily steps forward and buries herself into me, hugging me hard.

  “You stormed it,” she says, “absolutely stormed it. It was perfect, every bit. Every moment. Gustav and me were sat there holding our breath. I love every moment. It all… came together,” she says, cheeks bright and shiny, eyes glistening.

  “You think so?”

  “Oh, ho, ho, we know so,” Gustav exclaims, taking me straight to the bar.

  “The cast can have their first drink on me,” he winks at the barman. Then he’s off, flitting among the crowds, taking it all in his stride and revelling in the atmosphere.

  “Let’s get a drink,” I suggest.

  Lily orders a wine while I opt for two pints of beer. The first one is down in one, the second will be my prop while I speak to these people tonight.

  “I have to mingle.”

  “I know,” she smiles.

  “You’ll be okay?”

  “I’m bathing in your starlight. Go. I’ll be fine.”

  I head into the masses and a group swarms around me in no time. “So, Mr Richards,” someone says, “how did you and Gustav meet?”

  I laugh and begin, “It’s a funny old story.”

  Hours pass. I’m eventually looking around, realising most people have gone home and I’ve been talking non-stop all this time. I find Lily in a corner, half-asleep and pissed on wine. She made friends early in the night with my colleague Pattie and they’ve been sharing anecdotes about me, no doubt. Pattie is asleep on the couch and Lily is using her handbag as a pillow.

  “What time is it?”

  “One a.m.”

  “Ridiculous,” she spews, “where are we meant to get food at this time?”

  I laugh the house down. “We’re not. We need to go home and sleep. Tomorrow we’ll feast.”

  “Blugh,” she says, “I drank too much.”

  After the official press went, the cast stayed behind to get roaring pissed and it’s been one of those evenings of timelessness.

  Gustav left hours ago after becoming emotional during his speech. He doesn’t do emotional. He left with his dignity mostly intact.

  The general consensus from the people I spoke to was that if Twelfth Night and Hamlet had a baby, this play tonight was it. I don’t know how Gustav got it past the producers and the theatre bosses, but I guess he has enough of a reputation that people really believed he could pull this off – and he did.

  We shook off the thing about the modern guy not knowing his place and we changed it up so that I was still playing a modern guy, just one who was slowly going mad without nature, without freedom, without any sense of purpose. His dad dead, his uncle in charge of the world’s destruction, the decimation of himself runs parallel with that of his homeland. Gustav tweaked all the original text to give it new meaning but did it in a way that kept the original sentiment but also worked for a modern audience and gave the whole thing a lift. Our radical retelling would have usually ended up in some backstreet theatre, because it certainly isn’t going to play into the hands of a traditional crowd, but Gustav had faith in me that I could carry this and I did. I let all my darkness pour into that character and I let him breathe, too. Tonight saw me open my pores to the darkness and let the ghouls roam my vicinity. It’s hard to explain but it all came together and I’ve never felt freer.

  “I’m exhausted, Lily. Let’s go home.”

  We hail a cab outside and she cuddles into my side as we race home the few blocks.

  “Any offers tonight?” she murmurs.

  “Oh, my agent texted me there were.”

  She laughs.

  “Which are you gonna take?”

  “I don’t know. All I know right now is that I’m going to cuddle you so hard and sleep like a motherfucker tonight.”

  “Attaboy,” she giggles.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ~LILY~

  I’m on my lunch break a few days later and missing Theo like crazy when my phone rings. I get my hopes up it’s him, when I discover it’s someone else entirely.

  “Hello?” I answer uncertainly, though the caller on the screen has popped up as Theo Home.

  “It’s Theo’s mother, Allegra.”

  “Hi Allegra, what can I do for you?” Allegra fucking Richards is on the fucking phone.

  Shit.

  “I have a rather sensitive issue regarding my son that I need to discuss with you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Oh, bloody hell, no. He’s not done anything wrong. I just need some… conspiratorial help.”

  “I see.”

  “Would you pop over for dinner later? I’ll get it catered.”

  “No, no, please. I mean, I could bring—”

  “Honey, we both know he’s not with you because of your cooking skills. Hell, I use my oven for storage ordinarily.”

  We laugh into the phone.

  “He’s told you, then?”

  “He didn’t need to tell me. I’ve known for years. A mother always knows… and now Gustav has been calling me about you.”

  “You know Gustav?” I’m surprised.

  “I know everyone, darling. Now, will you make it? Seven sharp?”

  “Do you want me to bring anything?”

  “Only your discretion and if possible, good news about you and Theo?”

  I giggle. “Oh, well… yes.”

  “Good, see you then. Bye.”

  I wait for her to hang up but she doesn’t. Maybe her phone is dodgy or maybe she’s one of those old people who forgets. I hang up and sit in my regular café, stunned.

  Fucking hell.

  I suppose I’ll have to tell Theo our call this evening will have to wait until later tonight.

  Apparently, I have plans with his mother I’m not to tell Theo about. This could get tricky.

  I arrive promptly having parked on her drivewa
y, which I assume is okay. I’m sure it is, there is plenty of space. Anyway…

  Fuck, I’m nervous.

  She’s already at the door when I arrive, dressed in a beautiful muumuu in tropical colours. She’s on her stick but her long silver hair is twisted up and she’s wearing red lipstick. She’s intimidating to say the least.

  Tonight, I’ve managed a patchwork dress with a belt and the shoes Theo bought me.

  “Nice shoes,” she says, noticing those first.

  “Theo bought them for me.”

  “I see. How lovely.”

  The shoes have a tiny bit of frilly detail and are rather lovely.

  “Come in, dear. A drink?”

  “I’m driving but will have a wine spritzer or something.”

  She yells through to the kitchen. “A wine spritzer please, Amber.”

  “Okay, Mrs Richards.”

  Allegra rolls her eyes. “You can’t get the staff, and when you do, they immediately assume you must have been married a zillion years to have a place like this.”

  She laughs riotously and invites me into the sitting room, where a lady in catering uniform appears with two drinks on a tray.

  I wonder if I compromised etiquette with my wine spritzer when I spot Allegra’s rather fancy martini.

  I have no more time to worry about that, because Allegra gets straight to the point.

  “How have you found Gustav then, Lily? You’ve met him, I presume?”

  I’m surprised by her question. “Twice. Once at the friends’ performance and this past weekend at the press night.”

  “And he was… normal? I mean, functioning? He wasn’t… I don’t know… off the wall?”

  “You mean high or drunk or something?”

  She says nothing, only nods, but barely.

  “He doesn’t drink. He left the party early. He does seem of a slight nervous disposition, but he’s… just a normal director really. Ego central, but that’s normal, right?”

  “Your starters are on the table,” we’re told, and I offer Allegra my arm to help her up and shuffle to the dining table in the adjoining room.

  We sit down to paté and salad and I rather enjoy the food while she seems to pick at it.

  “So, you’re familiar with Gustav then? He’s a friend?” I ask, because she seems to have gone quiet since I told her he’s just your average director.

  She puts down her knife and fork and looks at me seriously. “What is this thing with my son? Is it serious?”

  “Very,” I reply immediately. “We’re in love and I’m moving to London.”

  “Good,” she enthuses, with a wink. “Then that means we must be allies.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a long story, Lily. Perhaps after dinner?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  The server takes away Allegra’s half-eaten starter and my empty plate, bringing out our main course of roast chicken with all the trimmings. We get to help ourselves and I’m salivating.

  “Ooh, do dig in,” she says, “my appetite is disappearing what with all the drugs and age. And Amber will box up anything you want to take home.”

  “Ooh, I could have a chicken salad for lunch tomorrow.”

  “Good girl,” she says, “you don’t want to end up like me, my bones are only like this because of the dieting and fasting for modelling. Theo won’t care if you get fat, you know. He really loves you. He might like you fat. Men seemed to prefer it when I got heavier, but then I’d lose it for a job or when I was working too much. Mark my words, don’t deny yourself. If there’s one thing I could go back and change, it would be that. Do not deny yourself the simple pleasures.”

  I smile at her, genuinely touched. I admire her candour, which many old ladies seem to have in abundance and is refreshing.

  “I’ll remember that, Allegra.”

  “Please, call me Allie. Everyone does.”

  “Okay.”

  After dinner, my stomach feels like it’s going to burst as we settle back into our armchairs in the sitting room. The luxurious chairs are positioned near the bay window of her massive house and there’s a lamp and a little table between us. I’m now drinking coffee while she’s on her second brandy.

  “Has Theodore ever talked about his father?” she begins.

  “Not that I can remember, no.”

  “I lived a very different life before I had Theo and it’s something I never talk about. I’m comforted by the knowledge you are a professional and understand discretion.”

  “Yes, Allie, but… he’s my lover. You’re his mother. This is personal, not professional.”

  “What I’m saying, is…” Her face becomes stern. “You care most about what’s best for people, and keeping the truth from Theo is what’s best, I can promise you that.”

  My stomach churns and I wait for it to pass, which it does. “Tell me everything.”

  I watch stunned as she lights up a menthol cigarette, takes two drags, then puts out the cigarette without apology. Yes, I hate smoking, but this is her own house. Besides, I think she needed it.

  “When I was modelling, I was incomparably unhappy,” she says, keeping her eyes on mine, bravely opening up to me. “It was the worst time of my entire life. I was an addict, I was unhealthy, I was hopping from one man to another and I was in a dark, desiccated place, where nothing felt alive or real and everything seemed pointless.”

  “Go on.” I sip my coffee, trying not to freak out.

  “When I was thirty-five, I knew my time was running out. Back then I was ancient for a model and an Italian admirer of mine who’d pursued me for years came with an offer of marriage.”

  “Theo’s father?”

  “Well, that’s where it gets complicated. I refused the offer of marriage. I didn’t love the man, you see.”

  “Okay.” I frown.

  “I gradually faded into obscurity, the job offers dried up and my addictions got worse. No make-up could hide what I was putting my body through.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugs. “Then I met a boy. I say boy. He really was a boy, a man ten years my junior, a child really. He was as messed up as me and we fell immediately and desperately in love. It was consuming, it was…life-affirming. He was an artist, working in a tiny studio in Milan, but he wasn’t originally from there. He was from Hungary originally.”

  “I see.”

  “We started travelling together and he would paint me and sell the paintings. We survived, we lived like nomads, never staying in one place long. And then on my thirty-seventh birthday, I realised I hadn’t had a period in months. I’d gained weight but thought that was from all the lounging around. In reality, I was pregnant.”

  “The boy? What did the boy say?”

  She smiles sadly. “I knew the boy as well as I knew myself, but the difference was, I was carrying the life and that meant the changes coming were already felt by me, but not by him. I stopped all the nonsense immediately, left and went home to my sister. Not long later, the Italian found me in London, where I was studying photography. I gave birth a week after we married. He was much older, much wealthier, and loved me. I wanted stability for my son.”

  “And he died?”

  “We had two good years. He was actually very wonderful. It changed me. He helped me recover, you know? Because that never stops, actually, the recovery is forever when you’re an addict. My body can’t handle it anymore and tells me exactly when to stop, but back then, when I was young… living my life like it was a film reel I was seeing everything in… it got out of hand and crazy. I kept pushing the boundaries because nobody ever told me there were any.”

  Her words sting me and I think of Paul.

  “It’s good when there’s a child. It puts things into perspective. I knew Gustav and myself were two of the same. I knew it in my body and soul, and when I left him, it was the worst moment of my entire life. I didn’t even tell him I was pregnant.”

  “Wow.” I look down at my l
ap, my heart aching.

  “We couldn’t ever bring up a child together. It would have ruined Theo. I chose my son. I’d do it all over again if I had to.”

  I look up and see the raw, brutal power of her choice, tears streaming down her face.

  “My son wants me to see him in this play but I can’t do that, Lily. I can speak with Gustav on the phone and be polite and whatever, but I can’t face that man. I know that if we were in the same room together again, it’d cut me open. I’m still that girl he loved in my heart, but physically, I’m frail and weak and I can’t face what I did, the choices I made and the hurt it might cause Theo. You have to help me with this. If not for me, then for Theo.”

  I rush across and sit on the arm of her chair, holding my arm around her as she cries into her hands. “He called him his son, Allegra. The other night he told him, ‘well done, my son’ after the play. It’s obvious now that Theo landed this job because Gustav went looking for him. It all makes sense.”

  “The artist became a playwright… the son became an actor. My secret didn’t stand a chance, did it?”

  “No. But I’ll help you navigate this.”

  “Will you?” she asks, tormented.

  “Yes, I’ll help you tell the truth and let go of all of this. I wish I could but I can’t hide this from Theo. He’s my world. He’s the love of my life. This will hurt but I think he’ll be happy. I think it’ll help him understand more about himself.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do. And I’ll be there for him, all the way.”

  “You promise, Lily?”

  “Absolutely, we’ll solve this, together.”

  “Together,” she repeats, her thin body shaking with relief. “But we must wait until the last possible minute or it’ll wreck the whole run for him. Nepotism, darling… Theodore wouldn’t take it well.”

  I frown deeply. “If you think so.”

  “I do.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  ~LILY~

  Saturday arrives before I know it and I find myself waiting outside Susan and Adam’s house in the car. Adam leaves the property alone carrying an overnight bag.