Centre Stage

by Judy Nunn

‘No, I didn’t.’ Julian took a swig from the bottle and handed it over. ‘Good on him.’

  ‘Yes.’

  It was true. A week before he died Harold had said, ‘You don’t mind, do you, my dear Alexei? I’d leave it to you if I felt you needed it. To you and Julian. But you’re both very well off.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind, Harold,’ Alex had replied, and he’d meant it. So long as he could live the lifestyle he liked, superfluous wealth and possessions were of little importance to him. ‘He died magnificently.’ Alex continued to stare out across the bay. ‘Magnificent, he was. Bloody magnificent.’

  They stood in silence for several minutes. Finally Alex said, ‘You’ve written my drama, haven’t you?’ It was only then he turned to Julian. ‘Why not stop mucking around and give it to me?’

  The shock tactic succeeded. Julian’s guilty reaction was eminently readable and he was at a loss for words.

  ‘Why don’t you want to give it to me?’ Alex asked.

  Julian shrugged. He knew there was no point in denying he’d written the play. ‘Because I don’t think you’re the right person to have it,’ he answered lamely.

  ‘Why not?’

  What could he say? Julian wondered. Could he say, ‘Because the play is evil and the play is you and if the two combine something terrible will happen’? That was what he felt, but how could he say it? He decided that no explanation whatsoever was the best way out. ‘I’m not giving you the play, Alex,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m never giving you the play. You’ll just have to accept that.’ Julian took the bottle back, swigged and waited for the argument.

  None was forthcoming. Good, thought Julian. Alex had accepted the finality of his decision.

  ‘You ready for the wake?’ he asked Alex as he handed back the bottle.

  ‘Yep.’ Alex took a brief swig himself. ‘Just one more question,’ he said as they turned to go. ‘Why don’t you want me to see Maddy?’ Julian stopped, frozen in his tracks. ‘We were very close all those years ago, Julian. It broke my heart when she left. And now you want to keep us apart. I can’t think why you’d want to do that.’

  Bingo, Alex thought as he read all the signs. Julian is genuinely shocked that I know Maddy’s back. And he’s scared as hell that I might try and see her. Very interesting. Why?

  The reason for Julian’s consternation was certainly of interest to Alex, but it was of no great value so he didn’t pursue it. ‘Don’t look so upset.’ He put a comradely arm around Julian’s shoulder. ‘I won’t see Maddy if you really don’t want me to. And I won’t even ask the reasons why. Just give me the play—that’s all I’m after. Simple.’

  Julian pulled away from the embrace and started striding angrily up the hill. It was blackmail, of course. Sheer blackmail. And of course he had no option but to accept the offer. Accept it and pray that Alex had such little interest in Maddy that he would honour the agreement.

  Confident that he’d won, Alex followed, wondering again what the mystery was. Had Julian turned straight? Was he having an affair with Maddy? No, that was laughable. Maddy was in a relationship, perhaps, and Julian was afraid the relationship might be threatened if Alex came back into her life?

  Yes, that was far more believable. And certainly far more exciting. It might be fun to see Maddy again after all these years, Alex thought. Not that he would dare seek her out, of course, until the play was well and truly into production.

  ‘There’s no point in being annoyed Julian, the most sensible—’

  ‘Shut up!’ Julian’s face was a mask of anger and he strode on ahead. ‘You’ll get your play.’

  When Jenny phoned her mother to say she’d be coming home a few days later than planned Maddy had to force the good humour a little.

  ‘No, darling, of course I don’t mind. (She did mind, she’d been a bit down lately and she’d been relying on Jenny’s return to give her a boost.) But you said you had such a lot to do before the start of the new term. Getting your books and …” (Careful Maddy, you’re sounding like a nag.) ‘Oh, well, who cares so long as you’re having fun.’

  ‘Mum!’ Jenny was exasperated. Her mother was so predictable! ‘Don’t you want to know why?’

  ‘Oh. Of course I do. (Bugger it, she’d been thinking of herself as usual. And, as usual, Jenny had caught her out.) ‘I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t mean …’

  ‘I think I’m in love.’

  Out it all came. His name was Paul, he was twenty-five years old, he was a recently qualified doctor of medicine and he was serving his first year’s internship at St Vincent’s Hospital. (Maddy breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t an actor.)

  ‘We met the day after you left. At a charity dinner. His mother’s on the Variety Club Committee and she and Helena are great mates.’

  ‘Oh, that’s nice.’ (Trendy socialite posing as philanthropist, Maddy thought.)

  ‘No, Mum, you’ve got it all wrong. She’s a terrific woman.’

  ‘I didn’t say a word.’

  ‘You didn’t have to.’

  Damn, Jenny never let her get away with a trick.

  ‘It’s only for a few extra days,’ Jenny continued. ‘He wants us to spend New Year’s Eve together.’

  ‘That’s fine, darling, but what about flights? The Gulf crisis—’

  ‘I’ve already checked out the flights. I’m booked on Qantas via the States, not going anywhere near the Middle East. It’ll be quite safe. Now, are you sure you don’t mind?’

  ‘Of course not.’ What difference would it make if she did? Maddy thought. Once Jenny had decided on something, that was it. It was a quality which Maddy had learned to respect in her daughter, although on occasions it irked her. And it was a quality which she knew would take Jenny far. She was a strong and determined young woman. Not so very different from herself at that age, Maddy thought as she recalled her own resistance to her father and her determination to do everything on her own. And Jenny, like herself, had experienced a solitary childhood.

  The recognition of this fact often precipitated a rush of guilt. And every rush of guilt brought about a sudden and equal rush of motherly concern which Jenny always saw through.

  ‘You’re fussing again, Mum. You don’t need to. Get off your guilt trip.’

  For a while Maddy worried that Jenny’s teenage toughness might augur a ‘hard’ streak in the girl. The years from fifteen to seventeen were certainly difficult ones and the culmination came on Jenny’s seventeenth birthday.

  Maddy had allowed her to drink too much champagne, they’d started talking about sex and suddenly Jenny admitted that she had lost her virginity over six months ago.

  ‘But you didn’t say anything.’ Maddy was deeply shocked. ‘You always promised you’d tell me.’

  ‘It was no big deal,’ Jenny shrugged. ‘Just a touch up in the back of his car.’ She poured the last drops from the bottle into her glass. ‘A touch up that got a bit out of hand, that’s all.’ She didn’t know why she was playing it so tough. She only knew that she wanted to shock her mother. For once she didn’t want to salve Maddy’s guilt, she wanted to rub her nose in it. To say, ‘Where were you for half of my childhood?’ She also knew that the room was starting to spin and she was close to throwing up.

  ‘Oh, Jen.’ Maddy put her arm around her.

  Jenny started to pull away. Then, all of a sudden, she gave in, dropped her head on her mother’s shoulder and sobbed.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m just drunk, that’s all.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Maddy said gently, stroking Jenny’s hair.

  ‘I didn’t mean to get at you.’

  ‘Yes, you did, and I deserve it. You’re allowed to have a dig every now and then.’

  ‘Oh, shit!’

  ‘No, I mean it,’ Maddy declared, ‘I’m not playing martyr, you deserve—’

  ‘I’m going to throw up.’

  Things were much better after that night.

  Jenny’s flight from Sydney arrived on Saturday. There were no re
hearsals and Maddy was able to meet her at the airport. As soon as she saw her daughter she recognised the change. Yes, she’s in love, all right, thought Maddy.

  Jenny had always been a good-looking girl. A little above average height, with a well-proportioned body and excellent bearing, the impression she gave was that of a fine, strong filly. Now, as the grey-blue eyes picked out Maddy from the crowd and, as Jenny tossed her sandy hair back over her shoulders and walked towards her mother, Maddy realised with a shock that her daughter’s sexuality was virtually palpable. Heads turned to watch her with varying degrees of lust, envy and admiration. Oh yes, Maddy thought, she’s certainly been sowing her wild oats.

  For the following week it was ‘Paul this’, ‘Paul that’, and the phone rang at all hours. Then came the excited announcement that he would be in England the following month for a fortnight’s holiday.

  ‘He can’t stand it any longer,’ Jenny declared dramatically. ‘He simply has to see me. Great, eh?’

  ‘I suppose I’d better shift out so you can have the flat to yourselves,’ Maddy said.

  ‘No, your show’ll be running by then,’ Jenny smiled. ‘Eight performances a week should give us time enough.’

  How exhausting, Maddy thought. But then, everything was exhausting to her lately. Her role in Woman in Mind, which opened in a week, was exhausting. The winter was exhausting. It seemed to be a particularly bitter one and she resented getting out of bed in the morning for rehearsals. It was a pity. Normally she loved the rehearsal period of a play.

  She didn’t know why she was so jaded. Maybe she was getting old. She’d be thirty-nine in a minute. Hell, so close to forty. Maybe it was being in the company of such fervent young passion. Yes, that was it: she was probably jealous.

  Then, on Friday, as she left rehearsals, it all changed.

  He was standing on the opposite side of the street and, although there were plenty of other people about, he was the first thing that caught her eye as she stepped out onto the pavement. He was watching the stage door so intently that he literally willed her to look in his direction.

  She darted several glances about to see if anyone else was looking and she wondered wildly what she was supposed to do. Their clandestine meeting over five years before had been so beset with cloak and dagger rules …

  Rule number one. He was staring at her, but he wasn’t acknowledging her. ‘If I don’t acknowledge you, don’t acknowledge me.’ Hell! What was the ‘all clear’ sign? Right index finger, right side of nose. Maybe she should do that. She did. She rubbed her nose frantically. And she watched as Douglas burst out laughing.

  He crossed the street and he was still laughing as he picked her up and crushed her to him.

  ‘You’re hurting me,’ she said breathlessly. ‘And what’s so bloody funny? Didn’t I do it right?’

  ‘Yes, you did it right,’ he answered as he put her down. ‘You overacted a bit, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, why didn’t you acknowledge me? You said, “If I don’t—”.’

  ‘I just wanted to watch you for a couple of seconds, that’s all. Have you missed me? Are you with someone else? Can we go to your place and talk?’

  ‘Yes, no, yes,’ Maddy said and kissed him.

  Talk they did. When Jenny arrived home an hour and a half later, Maddy and Douglas hadn’t even scratched the surface. The questions tumbled out, the answers remained half finished. They both wanted to talk and ask about everything that had happened over the past five years, all the while taking pleasure in the knowledge that soon they would be exploring each other’s bodies in the same feverish way.

  ‘Douglas!’

  ‘Hi, Jenny. Long time.’ Douglas was so struck by the sexuality of the girl that it didn’t seem right to say any of the usual trite comments like, ‘Haven’t you grown up?’ or ‘What happened to the little girl I knew?’

  ‘Yes, five years,’ Jenny answered. ‘Hi, Mum, how was the tech?’

  ‘Hell, as usual.’ Maddy heaved a theatrical sigh but she wasn’t joking. The first full technical run of a play was always torturous.

  Douglas looked admiringly at the two women. It was difficult to believe that Maddy was Jenny’s mother—they were so different in looks. But, although Jenny didn’t have the delicate bones and fine features of her mother, there was certainly one thing they had in common. They were both extremely sensual-looking women. For the first time, Douglas wondered briefly about Jenny’s father. He must have been a bit of a looker too, he supposed.

  ‘How long are you in town this time?’ Jenny asked and there was no mistaking the icy tone.

  ‘Jen!’

  Douglas had registered the dig. He’d registered the cool reception from the moment Jenny had entered the room. He shrugged at Maddy to show he understood. The girl was obviously being protective of her mother.

  ‘Sorry. Just asking.’ Jenny picked up the ice bucket. ‘Shall I get a refill?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Maddy quickly. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’

  As they disappeared into the kitchen, Douglas got up and inspected the view from the window at the far end of the lounge to allow them to talk about him at ease.

  ‘Don’t behave like a bitch,’ Maddy hissed. ‘Don’t spoil things.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I’m really sorry.’ Jenny could have kicked herself. Why did she do it? As soon as she’d arrived home, one look at her mother’s radiant face should have told her to back off. But no, she had to come out with the smartarse comments. So what if the man was going to fuck up her mother’s life, walking in and out when he pleased? He sure as hell made her happy when he walked in, didn’t he? And the couple of actors Maddy had tried it on with over the last several years—out of sheer desperation, Jenny could only suppose—had been dead losses.

  ‘I’m glad he’s back.’ Jenny cracked a fresh tray of ice cubes into the bucket. ‘I thought I might go and see Grandpa and Alma for the weekend.’ She grinned and gave a lascivious wink.

  ‘That’s very thoughtful,’ Maddy didn’t acknowledge the wink, ‘but I don’t know if he’s staying.’

  ‘Well, we’ll soon find out.’ Before Maddy could stop her, Jenny picked up the ice bucket and disappeared into the lounge.

  ‘You staying the weekend, Douglas?’ she asked as she put some ice cubes into his glass and handed him the bottle of Scotch. Any malice had gone and the grey-blue eyes twinkled with humour.

  ‘Oh. Well …’ Douglas looked in confusion at Maddy who was standing in the kitchen doorway. ‘I don’t know, I …’ Maddy smiled and nodded. ‘Yes, I’d certainly like to,’ he said.

  ‘Good.’ Jenny tipped some ice cubes into her mother’s glass. ‘That saves me having to get a babysitter for Mum.’

  Later that night, after they’d made love, Douglas held Maddy to him so closely that she could scarcely breathe.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I love you, Madeleine,’ he said.

  She savoured the words for several minutes. ‘How long can you stay?’

  ‘The weekend. Just the weekend.’

  ‘Where do you—’

  ‘Sssh.’ He drew her to him again. ‘Tomorrow. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.’

  Jenny had already left when they woke up. The note read, Coming back Monday morning, have fun, Love, Fen. P.S. Am taking Alma to Windsor Castle for picnic Sunday.

  ‘No bacon and eggs,’ Douglas said in mock horror as he explored the refrigerator.

  ‘Try getting a teenage girl to eat bacon and eggs,’ Maddy answered.

  Ten minutes later he was back with the supplies and half an hour later they were eating not only bacon and eggs but sausages, fried tomatoes and mushrooms.

  ‘The full catastrophe,’ Maddy said with relish as she speared an egg yolk. ‘I haven’t had a breakfast like this for five years.’

  ‘Nor have I.’

  After breakfast they went for a long walk in Regent’s Park. As they stood watching the ducks on the lake,
they cuddled close to keep out the cold and Maddy thought of those other couples she’d watched so enviously the day after Douglas had left. Same park, same lake. She wondered if some of the ducks were the same. And she wondered whether she’d be back here in a few days’ time, depressed all over again.

  She took a deep breath. ‘It’s tomorrow, Douglas. You said you’d tell me all about it tomorrow. Where are you off to after the weekend? What’s happening?’

  ‘You warm enough?’ he asked. She nodded and he led her to a park bench. Once they were seated, he said, ‘I’m off to the Gulf after the weekend. There’s going to be a war.’

  Maddy stared back at him. ‘But the deadline isn’t until the fifteenth. Hussein’s got nearly a whole week to get his troops out of Kuwait.’ Douglas didn’t say anything. ‘Nobody believes he’s going to take on the whole US army.’ Still Douglas said nothing. ‘He wouldn’t, surely.’

  ‘We believe he would. We believe he’s about to take on the entire forces of the United Nations.’

  Maddy was horrified.

  ‘He’s a madman,’ Douglas continued, ‘and he’s prepared to risk a bloodbath.’

  ‘But …’ Maddy didn’t know what to say. ‘My God.’ She looked out over the lake again and, when she finally spoke, it was with an edge of desperation. ‘But surely you don’t have to go in there until the actual invasion?’ Surely she could buy a few more days with him, she was really saying: surely the longer he could delay going, the greater the possibility the war might not eventuate at all. Time, I have to buy time, she thought wildly.

  Douglas read her desperation and smiled. ‘I’ve already been there,’ he said. ‘You know the mob I work for, you know the way we function. We’ve been on covert operations in the Gulf for the past fortnight.’ He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. ‘They’ve given me these few days in London to tie up the loose ends, then it’s back to Saudi Arabia until the invasion and then …’ He gave a sigh of resignation. ‘Then, my darling, who knows? Who the hell knows!’

  The strangest mixture of emotions engulfed Maddy. She felt frightened, she felt confused and, above all, she felt angry. Had he come back into her life for a brief weekend before going off to get killed? Better he’d never returned at all, if that was the case. She knew it was fear dictating her anger but she didn’t care. She didn’t care if she was being selfish. It wasn’t fair of him to die. Not now. Not when she was willing to accept freely any conditions he offered. She’d give up the theatre for him, she’d move to Hong Kong. Anything. She’d do anything.