It was really quite peaceful there in the darkness, then they went and spoiled it. A baby spot appeared out of nowhere and centred on an anguished mask of a face. The performance had begun.
I had fully intended to nurse my drink along so that it lasted until the interval, but the worse the play got, the faster I sipped. I was simply not attuned to blank verse. Was it possible that pub landlords deliberately chose the worst plays available because they made people drink faster? Talk about popcorn sales keeping the cinemas going in lean times! When the interval finally arrived, I had been clutching an empty glass for what seemed like hours, if not years.
Sweetums was already on her feet and trampling toes in her dash for the exit. Yelps of pain and hisses of rage marked her progress. Terence followed more slowly, apologizing profusely all the way and trying to smooth the ruffled feelings she left in her wake.
'Coming downstairs for a drink!' It was an order as much as a question. Sweetums paused beside our row, tapping one foot impatiently.
'Yes, good idea.' The response was so unlike Evangeline that I glanced at her in surprise, just in time to spot the twitch of her fingers as she undid the catch of her handbag and stood up awkwardly. The handbag fell to the floor, gaping open and spilling its contents down the steps.
'Oh, dear!' Evangeline watched a lipstick roll down the steps and across the stage. 'How clumsy of me.'
'Yes.' Sweetums compressed her lips and stared at the debris at Evangeline's feet as I bent to start picking up items. 'We'll see you downstairs,' Sweetums said, making it clear that she wasn't going to help clear up.
I kept my head down as Terence came up to us and stooped to retrieve a small vial of perfume.
'Come along, Terence,' Sweetums ordered imperiously. 'The girls will follow when they've sorted themselves out.' She made it sound unlikely that we ever would.
Adam had trotted to the foot of the steps and was groping under a chunk of concrete for the lipstick.
'Are you all right?' Vic made a move towards uncapping the small flask of smelling salts he had picked up.
'Quite all right, thank you.' Evangeline took the flask and replaced it in her handbag. 'You go ahead –' She waved the others onwards. 'I think we'll just stay here for the interval.'
'If you're sure?' Vic looked around, but the floor was clear now. 'Perhaps we could bring you back a drink?' Some of the others had already started ahead.
'No, no, we're –'
There was a scuffle and a shriek, followed by several shouts and cries from the staircase. Evangeline looked towards it hopefully.
'What's going on here?' Vic abandoned us and raced for the stairs. 'Is everything all right?'
'Perfectly all right. Don't worry,' Sweetums trilled. 'My darling Terence wouldn't let me fall.'
'Not until he knows her better,' Evangeline muttered.
9
'Come on.' Evangeline stuffed everything back into her handbag carelessly and stood up. 'We're going backstage to see Lucy.'
The auditorium had emptied and Nova had appeared at the edge of the performance area and was beckoning to us urgently.
'Hurry up before Sweetums begins to suspect anything.' Evangeline started forward. 'We want to talk to Lucy by ourselves.'
'We do?' But she was way ahead of me now. I sighed and followed her.
'Lucy has her own office,' Nova said proudly, leading us to the smallest room I had ever seen without white porcelain fittings in it. When we were all inside, we had to inhale and squeeze together before Nova could shut the door. It didn't help that Tex was sprawled across most of the floor space; his tail thumped a greeting to us.
'All that's missing is the Marx Brothers,' I muttered. To myself, of course, nobody else was paying any attention. Evangeline and Lucy were air-kissing an enthusiastic greeting.
'Dear Lucy, it seems such ages!' Evangeline stepped back, Tex whimpered and moved his paw hastily. 'Let me look at you. How well you look! Doesn't she look well, Trixie?'
'Great.' Anything would have been an improvement, but Lucy did seem to be looking a bit less harassed, also as though she'd had a few regular meals. Steady employment, such as it was, seemed to agree with her.
'Tell her about your new play, Lu.' Nova obviously felt the preliminaries had gone on long enough. 'She's just dying to hear all about it.'
'Yes, indeed,' Evangeline cooed. 'Nova has been whetting my appetite.'
'Well, I don't know.' Lucy glanced at Nova uneasily. 'We've more than half promised it to Sweetums Carew.'
'Oh, well, in that case, we wouldn't want you to break your word,' I said quickly. It was worth a try.
'Sweetums Carew!' Evangeline drew herself up, attempting to annihilate me with a passing glance, but concentrating the main force of her energy on Lucy. 'Are you suggesting that Sweetums Carew could ever play a role that would be suitable for me?'
'Oh, no. No.' Lucy quailed visibly. 'She'd give a completely different interpretation of the role. It would be another play, almost.'
'There's no almost about it,' Evangeline said severely. 'It would cease to be the play you had in mind and turn into a vehicle for Sweetums. She'll simper and toss her head –' Evangeline demonstrated grotesquely. 'She'll roll her eyes, she may even lisp in the more emotional moments –'
'Oh, stop!' Lucy covered her face with her hands. 'Stop!'
'You'd lose all control over your play,' Evangeline continued relentlessly. 'Is that what you want?'
'You did have Evangeline in mind for the part,' Nova said reproachfully. 'From the moment you first got the idea.'
'I know. I know – and she'd be magnificent in the role.' Lucy lowered her hands to gaze tragically at Nova. 'But she disappeared and we didn't know where to find her. And then Terence brought Sweetums Carew along and she was so persuasive.'
Off in the distance, a warning bell sounded for the start of the second act.
'How much?' Evangeline demanded grimly. 'How much did she offer to steal my play?'
'Excuse me,' I broke in quickly before Evangeline got carried away and started raising the ante. 'But shouldn't we know a bit more about this play before we get too excited? I mean, it hasn't even been written yet, has it?'
'I have the first ten pages done,' Lucy said.
'And it's brilliant,' Nova said enthusiastically. 'The best thing you've ever done, Lu. Wait till it hits the stage – it will sweep the boards. It's a dead cert for the Evening Standard Award. And, when it hits New York, the Tony, the Emmy, the Critics' Circle –'
'Uh-huh.' I'd prefer to hear rave reviews from somebody other than the playwright's best friend. 'But what makes it so great? What is it about?'
'Yes.' Rather belatedly, Evangeline accepted that a note of caution might be in order, but an acquisitive gleam still lurked at the back of her eyes. 'What is it about?'
'Wait till you hear it,' Nova said. 'The title alone will get you. Hit 'em with it, Lu.'
'Yes.' Lucy drew herself up proudly and announced:
'Hamlet Swoons.'
'Hamlet...?' I echoed faintly. 'Swoons ...?' I wondered if I was going to swoon myself.
The second warning bell sounded.
'Well, it's not exactly Hamlet Hamlet,' Lucy said. 'Not as such.'
'It isn't?' I braced myself.
'Actually –' Lucy looked over her shoulder, as though rival playwrights might be waiting to steal the idea. 'Actually, it's Sarah Bernhardt playing Hamlet. She did, you know. And after a great success with it in Paris, she brought the show to London in 1899. It was a very controversial production.'
'I'll bet it was,' I muttered.
'Two Parisian critics fought a duel over it,' Nova said proudly. 'That will come into it, too. It isn't just a straight Hamlet.'
'I'm sure it isn't.' Straight was never a word I had associated with Lucy and Nova. 'Was this before or after she lost her leg?'
'Before,' Lucy said. 'It was L'Aiglon she continued appearing in afterwards – and did it very well, too.'
The thea
tre is all about illusion, after all.' Evangeline was rapt. In her case, read 'delusion' along with 'illusion'.
'And the Prince of Wales was one of Bernhardt's lovers,' Nova added enticingly.
'Playing Bernhardt playing Hamlet ...' Evangeline's eyes glazed over. '"To be or not to be" ...' she murmured throatily and I knew she was hooked.
The awful thing was, I could see it wasn't a bad idea. OK, maybe even a good idea, bordering on the great. It would all depend on the execution – and that was the operative word. Could Lucy be trusted not to kill it stone dead? But it was Lucy's idea and she had to be given the chance to work it out. Oh, yes, and there was one other fly in the ointment.
'That's all right for you,' I said to Evangeline. 'But where do I come in? We were going to do a play together, remember?'
'Yes, yes.' Evangeline waved a hand airily. 'I'm sure there'll be something for you to do. Bernhardt must have travelled with a maid.'
'Now see here, Evangeline Sinclair, I haven't reached this age and stage in my career to go back to playing French maids!'
'You needn't worry about that!' A new voice burst into the conversation. We all jumped and looked towards the door, where Sweetums Carew stood seething. 'That play is mine! You have nothing to do with it – or in it!'
Damn! With Evangeline, you knew where you were – she stamped around, never missing an opportunity to leap into a good rousing scene. But Sweetums was sly; she sneaked around, listening outside, opening doors silently. You never knew she was there until it was too late.
'You could never play this part!' Evangeline whirled, eyes flashing fire, to face this invader.
The final bell sounded. Tex growled softly.
'Sweetums ... Miss Carew ... Sweetums ...' a voice bleated behind her. 'The second act ... we ought to get back to our seats.' A miserable Terence, completely out of his depth, reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, wisely thought better of it and withdrew it. 'The show is starting again.'
Wrong. Maybe the show was starting, but all the action was going on right here.
'And you!' Sweetums ignored Evangeline and turned her fury on Lucy. 'You promised that play to me! I paid you for it! That play is mine! Try giving it to anyone else and you'll regret it for the rest of your life!'
Which might not be very long. I could fill in the blank as well as the next one. Especially when the next one didn't know Sweetums so well.
'Sweetums ...' Terence pleaded. Behind him, I could see the actors hurrying past to take their places. 'Sweetums ... please. Everyone will be waiting for us to take our seats.'
'Of course they will.' Abruptly, Sweetums reverted to typecasting and sent a radiant smile over her shoulder to Terence. He still looked nervous, as well he might.
'Just remember' – she dropped the mask, turning back to glare at Evangeline – 'that play is mine. You'll never have it!'
The door slammed behind her. Tex growled again.
'Oh, dear.' Lucy stared at the door, wringing her hands. 'Do you think she's terribly upset?'
'Just don't open any surprise gifts,' I said.
'Lucy,' Nova said. 'Did you take any money from her?'
'It was two hundred pounds,' Lucy said miserably. 'And the rent was due.'
'Oh, Lucy!' Nova slumped against the wall.
'Did you sign anything?' Evangeline went straight to the heart of the matter.
'I don't think so,' Lucy said uncertainly. 'Nothing like a contract. There was just some kind of a receipt, but there was no writing on it.'
'A blank cheque!' Evangeline joined Nova against the wall. 'Sweetums could write anything she wanted in the empty space.'
'Look –' I tried to shift the situation into some sort of reality. 'Shouldn't we have a sight of what all the fuss is about? Those ten pages you've already written, Lucy – how about letting us see them?'
'Oh, I don't know about that.' Lucy's chin thrust forward in an unexpected stubbornness. 'It's all at such a delicate stage right now. I can't bear to let anyone see it, to have anyone else's thoughts or reactions impinging on my subconscious.'
Over her head, Nova met my eyes and gave me the nod. We would see those ten pages.
'Oh! But we're keeping you from the performance!' Lucy looked stricken and tried a diversionary tactic. 'You must get back to your seats. The last act is starting.'
'Mmmm ...' Evangeline passed a hand over her forehead, her eyes closing and an expression of great suffering nobly borne appearing on her face. 'I think not. My head. I'm sorry. Please make my excuses, but I must go home and lie down.'
'She's understating the agony, she always does.' I picked up my cue and moved to her side – she wasn't going to escape and leave me here. "I'll see her back to the flat. I know what it's like when she has one of her heads. I'm afraid the evening is over. If someone could call us a taxi ...?'
'I'll drive you,' Nova said. 'I'll come back for you later, Lu.'
Tex heaved himself to his feet at these signs of activity. He looked from us to Lucy, hesitating. Lucy met his eyes and dropped a hand to tangle in his ruff, tugging it gently. An expression of deep affection passed between them.
'We'll drop the dog off at the Green Colleen on our way home,' Nova assured us. 'You don't have to worry about a thing.'
'Except what we're going to do next.' Evangeline was bound to mount some kind of campaign against Sweetums.
'Tomorrow is Sunday.' Evangeline frowned at me meaningfully. 'A day of rest. And we are going to rest.'
Famous last words.
At least we got to sleep in fairly late. For this relief, much thanks. Then raised voices began to ring through my dreams, disturbing me and bringing that restless pre-waking consciousness.
Then the doorbell pealed and went on pealing, an endless, relentless, insistent demand that brooked no disobedience. I struggled into my dressing gown and almost collided with Evangeline, still tying the ends of her own sash as we stumbled towards the door. Anything to stop that incessant racket.
'All right! All right!' Evangeline snarled. 'We're coming!'
The bell continued to peal, even after we had flung open the door and stepped back to allow Beauregard Sylvester to enter. For an anxious moment, I wondered whether Jasper had collapsed against the bell button and was ringing out his last moments. Probably it just felt like that to him. His grandfather's face was a thundercloud of unforgiving fury; Beau looked neither left nor right as he stormed into the living room, coming to rest at last in front of the red plush sofa – obviously the first item he recognized in the entire flat.
Evangeline wheeled and followed in Beau's wake, but I waited until Jasper had pulled himself away from the button and, supported by Mariah, stumbled unseeingly after them.
A tall elegant woman with an enigmatic but striking face walked slowly behind Jasper. She glanced in my direction and her lips twitched in a mirthless smile. She acted almost as though she knew me, but I had never seen her before in my life.
'Jasper ... Come on, Jasper.' Mariah prodded him tentatively, impelling him forward. 'Straight ahead. That's right. You can do it ...'
He stumbled into the entrance hall. Both women sailed in majestically behind him.
'What the hell is going on here?' Beau bellowed. 'I turn my back for a few weeks and everything goes to pieces.' He did not sound entirely dissatisfied with the thought. Who wants to come back from a trip and find out that the world has been getting along perfectly well without them?
Before closing the door, I took another look around the outer foyer. Where was Juanita? And who was this strange woman with Beau? Had he finally replaced Juanita with a younger model and, if so, were we about to be informed? Or was he just going to let us guess it for ourselves?
'I recognize the sofa.' Beau stared hard at the piece of furniture, as though he half expected it to disappear in a puff of smoke.
'The chaise longue is over there,' Jasper pointed out. 'And the armchairs. All the furniture is here – it's just ... spread out more.'
&nbs
p; 'You saved the furniture,' Beau said sarcastically. 'Ain't that just great? It was the house that was worth the real money, you idiot!'
Jasper knew that, of course. That was why it was the house he had mortgaged. Who'd bother lending him money on the furniture? He flinched and ducked, as though in expectation of a blow.
Even Mariah looked at him impatiently. He had obviously lost a certain amount of ground with her since the arrival of his grandfather.
'Sit down and have a drink, Beau,' Evangeline said. She flashed a signal to me and we both started for the kitchen.
'Who is that woman?' Evangeline spoke as soon as we were out of earshot of the others. 'What has he done with Juanita?'
Beau's voice rose in the distance, hectoring his unfortunate grandson.
'Your guess is as good as mine.' I jumped at the sound of a fist hitting a table. 'You haven't read anything about a passenger being lost at sea, have you?'
'He wouldn't dare!' Evangeline glanced nervously towards the living room. 'Would he?'
'Wouldn't he?' We met each other's eyes in dark surmise. Death was cheaper than divorce – and Beau was the tightwad of all time.
'That boy will be the ruination of me!' Beau stormed into the kitchen and stood there glaring at us as though it were our fault. 'That beautiful house in St John's Wood is gone and this half-finished dump is in negative equity. Thank God I never underwrote any of his so-called investments. That boy can spend money faster than any normal human being can make it!'
Evangeline generated an inordinate amount of noise tumbling ice cubes from the refrigerator trays into the ice bucket.
'Here.' She thrust the ice bucket at Beau. 'Take this into the living room and sit down and have a drink and calm down.'
'Have you two taken to drinking at this hour of the morning?' Ungrateful, he looked down at the ice bucket disapprovingly.
'It's not morning,' I said. 'It's half past noon.'
'That late already?' Beau shook his head. 'Where did the morning get to?'
'Doesn't time go fast when you're having fun?' Evangeline murmured. So she, too, had been awakened by the raised voices from the penthouse across the hall. Probably everybody on the floor below had been disturbed, too. Beau had a fine carrying voice and Jasper's anguished bleat wasn't so far behind.
Break a Leg, Darlings Page 8
