The Boy I Love (33 page)

‘Yes, I can see that,’ she agreed, ‘but won’t you feel the pressure of work if you are out gadding about all weekend? You were certainly in no fit state last week after
your time off. I just don’t want you to screw up this part, Jeremy. You have been longing for this job, so don’t blow it because you are too exhausted to give it your best shot.
Remember, all the agents are coming, and the producer of Isabelle’s film and God knows who else. This is the moment you have been waiting for. We both have,’ she added, suddenly
reminded that she too had been working towards this production and now found herself pulled in all directions.

‘Please don’t worry, Sal. I am fine – I couldn’t be happier. Now come on, let’s go and find Peggy and talk to her.’

That night, everybody seemed to have the same idea and ended up in the pub. It was one of those spontaneous evenings that always go well. The one consolation during these two weeks of intense
activity was the fact that there was no evening show. The actors could afford a night on the tiles and still recover, though some took longer than others, as Simon liked to point out every so
often.

‘I am a delicate little flower really,’ he would say. ‘I only drink because I am so insecure and fragile.’ He would then spend the rest of the night trawling the pub for
an unsuspecting female to massage his ego! Dora had long ago given up on him, and was far too busy pursuing her career as an actress through foul means or fair. Sally watched her sister now,
flirting at the bar with Robert. Lately she had spent a good deal of time with him, much to Sally’s dismay. She waved to Dora, who came bouncing over to where Sally was sitting waiting for
Jeremy.

‘Hi, everything OK, sister dear? It is good fun tonight, isn’t it? Must go – Robert has got the drinks in, see you later.’

‘Just be careful,’ warned Sally. ‘He is very slippery and will sell you out as soon as look at you.’

‘I don’t know why you are so against him,’ replied Dora. ‘He has been very kind to me, and given me lots of good advice about theatre and directors and stuff. He is quite
sexy too, in a dark, brooding kind of way.’

She giggled and Sally looked up sharply. ‘Oh Dora, please don’t tell me you have slept with him.’

‘No, he’s gay, silly – well, I think he is. Maybe he swings both ways. I wouldn’t say no if he asked me.’ Then she added, ‘Oh, don’t be so stuffy,
Sally. Relax. It is only a bit of fun. Haven’t you slept with someone for a laugh?’

Sally sat there in the pub with her half a lager and lime and tried to understand what had happened to Dora to turn her into this frivolous wayward girl.

‘I can’t believe you are saying these things, Dora, I really can’t. Is no one safe from your clutches? Why would I sleep with anyone just for a laugh? I am not a prude, but I
am not a tart either. You sound like a slapper!’

Dora laughed. ‘Oh come on, please – it’s 1982. I am my own woman and I do what I like, when I like, with whom I like. It doesn’t mean anything and that’s the way I
like it. I don’t want to fall in love and find myself committed to a deep relationship with all its problems. I want to be a star, Sally. There – I have said it. I want to be a huge
star and I am going to do it, you just watch me.’

Sally suddenly felt very old and tired. She dismissed Dora’s declarations as typical youthful bravado. Her sister was just going through a phase. But she could not help but feel hurt and
alienated by Dora’s behaviour. She was still miffed about Mack, but had chosen not to bring up the subject because she didn’t want to make matters worse. A part of her felt she was
overreacting. Dora had meant no harm. However, another part of Sally felt betrayed by her sister, who would probably have slept with Mack without a second thought, had she had the chance.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt betrayed. Best to forget all about it and hope that one day it would all be water under the bridge. But now, here Dora was again, challenging
Sally’s integrity and career as an actress. Sally had to admit she was a little overwhelmed by her sister’s ambition. Was that what it was all about – naked ambition? But then she
remembered Jeremy’s face today when he was talking about being in love, and how vulnerable he had seemed. That was also a dangerous route to take, in her book. The two of them had always
agreed that emotional stability was important to survive the pressures of the business, but that stability could come from friendship, which was more reliable than using precious energy on romantic
involvement. Sex was important, but not vital. Sally smiled wryly to herself; she should be so lucky! She had hardly been feeding her emotional or artistic soul in the last three months. Even the
excitement of the first nights, and going onstage to face the audience had faded under the weight of everyday life in a repertory theatre. It was mostly drudgery, if the truth be known. Where was
the spark?

She had often thought about Mack since their last meeting, but somehow she was still not ready to add him into the equation. It would just complicate matters. Better that she deal with the job
to the best of her ability, and then meet Mack with a clean slate. She had rung him and they had chatted happily about general stuff in their lives. In fact, Mack was not going to be able to visit
for a few weeks anyway as he had been commissioned to deliver three large sculptures for an exhibition in Italy.

‘My first real international showcase,’ he said happily. ‘I am gutted we can’t meet up yet, but believe me, when we do, we can celebrate in style.’

She smiled dreamily to herself at the thought of being with him.

‘Penny for them?’ Rupert broke into her thoughts as she finished her lager and lime.

‘Oh, just trying to work out how to fit everything in. It’s a nightmare, isn’t it? How did your rehearsal go with Isabelle?’ Sally asked, curious to know the answer.

Rupert made a rueful face. ‘Well, all right, I suppose, but there is a long way to go. She is trying really hard, and she is so sweet one can’t get angry with her.’ He turned
to look round the bar and spotted Isabelle, who was surrounded by adoring males, all hanging on her every word. She looked a little the worse for wear.

‘She should really go home to bed by the looks of her,’ said Sally, feeling deflated. She had hoped that Rupert might suggest coming back to her flat to go through the lines as he
had mentioned earlier.

‘I think I had better be the gent, don’t you? Get her home. Hopefully we can run some lines tomorrow, Sally. Thank you for being such a brick.’ He kissed Sally on the cheek,
and she got a brief whiff of his cologne, and then he was gone. She watched him scoop Isabelle up and carry her, in a fireman’s lift, out of the pub. Everyone was whooping and hollering and
cheering. Sally decided she had had enough for the night and left soon afterwards. She had to admit she was exhausted, and as her mother always used to say: ‘Things always look better in the
morning after a good night’s sleep.’

As she lay awake in bed that night, restless and unable to drop off, Sally tried to stop the negative thoughts from spilling over her sleepy head. Then very slowly, her thoughts turned to
Rupert. But what about Mack? She tried to focus on him, but it was Rupert’s face that floated before her. In fact, her whole body tingled, and she felt herself falling into his arms as he
lifted her up and carried her away.

By the end of the week Sally was seriously pissed off. She felt completely abandoned by everyone. Giles and Robert were always having private meetings in the office, and the
cast were fretting about all the costume changes and paying very little attention to the text. Jeremy was really irritating her, as he gazed endlessly into space with an inane grin on his face. As
soon as he could after rehearsals, he was on the phone at the stage door to Eddie. She had hoped he would be around to support her, not just as a fellow actor, but as a friend. She was also aware
that Dora had completely taken over her duties as understudy, and every time Sally visited the rehearsals she watched with growing anger as her sister flirted with Rupert. The only consolation was
that Isabelle stood between Dora and the object of her desire. The actress might not have the means to absorb the text of one of Shakespeare’s greatest plays, but she sure knew how to fend
off female competition. Sally had hardly had a chance to talk to Rupert as he was spending every minute of the day, and possibly the night, with his co-star. This was the nub of the matter. To
Sally’s dismay it seemed that romance had blossomed between the two leading actors and she was devastated by the thought. How could Rupert fall for such an obvious ploy? He had seemed so
sensitive and caring when they had talked, and now here he was blatantly indulging his carnal needs like any other bloke. The trouble was that for all the sexual chemistry that might be going on
offstage, the onstage performances were still lacklustre, and it seemed to Sally that Giles was not able to inspire the actors to do better. This was the other problem for Sally. She could see that
Giles was losing his grip, and Robert also was very anxious. The two of them seemed to have lost the plot. Well, it was a bit late now!

Sally decided to corner Robert and see if she could find out what was going on. She met him at the stage door one morning early and offered to make him a coffee.

‘Thank you, that would be very welcome,’ he said and followed her up to the Green Room.

‘I think I may even have some chocolate biscuits squirrelled away for emergencies,’ said Sally as she put the kettle on.

‘Is there an emergency?’ asked Robert. Sally turned and caught him watching her very carefully.

‘No, not exactly, but things do seem a little – how shall I say? A little fraught.’ Sally busied herself with the coffee. She did not want to overstep the mark. Robert could be
very tricky and she had no wish to jeopardize her position.

‘Fraught?’ Robert rolled the word round his tongue. ‘Fraught. Yes, you could say that, I suppose.’ He pulled out a chair from the table in the centre of the room and sat
down slowly. Suddenly he seemed frail; all the swagger and posturing was gone. Sally finished making the coffee and placed a mug on the table in front of him. She fetched her own mug and the
biscuits and sat down beside him. They remained in silence for a good five minutes, then Robert seemed to gather himself together. He picked up the coffee, took a few sips and then turned to
Sally.

‘So, do you have any bright ideas as to how we can ease the situation?’

Sally was not quite sure how genuine the question was, or whether there was a hint of sarcasm. She decided to opt for the positive.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean to criticize or anything. It is just that obviously we all want the play to be a great success – for Giles and the theatre – and if there is anything I
can do to help, then I am very happy to be of service. I have managed to nail my Dumb Show at last, though what will happen when we get onstage with that truck, God only knows.’ The designer
had decided that a part of the scenery would be built on a moving truck which could be wheeled on and off. This was going to be particularly dramatic in the grave-digging scene as there was a grave
built into the truck part so
Hamlet
could jump into it. However, the truck was also onstage during the Dumb Show and, in fact, Sally was contemplating using it as a way to get her actors off
at the end of the scene. She had in mind a final tableau which would then disappear as the truck was pulled off the stage in a blackout. However, in order for this to work it was imperative that
all the actors were firmly on the correct bit of the stage, or someone might well get left behind or worse still, disappear into the grave!

Robert smiled and agreed that, ‘It would indeed be interesting to see what happens. But what exactly do you feel is not working as far as the play is concerned?’

Sally knew she was on the spot. It was not her place to pass comment on the directorial skills of Giles Longfellow. She weighed her words very carefully.

‘Oh goodness, I wouldn’t dream of suggesting there is anything not working, not at all. But I have spent quite a good deal of time with Giles and Rupert and Isabelle, and it has been
quite frustrating at times when the text is not clear, or the lines are slipping. You know what it’s like, Robert.’ She tried to put the ball back in his court, but he was refusing to
co-operate.

‘Yes, I understand it has not been easy, but Giles tells me Isabelle is finally making progress and hopefully with a few runs of the play under her belt she will pull it out of the
bag.’

Sally decided to change the subject. ‘I gather we have a few important folk coming to the first night?’ she said. ‘Even a West End producer, with a view to taking the play into
Town?’

Suddenly Sally saw Robert shut down in front of her. She had gone too far. There was no way he was going to share with her – a mere ASM – any information like that.

‘We will have to wait and see. Now I must get on. Thank you for the coffee, Sally, and I look forward to seeing your Dumb Show.’ He stood up and was once more in control as he left
the room without a backward glance. She had been dismissed. That is all very well, she thought, but it does not change the fact that things are not right, and I am going to make sure my actors are
given the best chance there is to shine.