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The Might-Have-Been Girl A novel by Bronwen Welsh Copyright 2015

Chapter 10  A trip to Southgate.

The next week went well, with more sell-out audiences. There was only one cloud hovering over me; Reggie hadn't phoned, and as each day passed I wondered more and more whether he would. David knew something was wrong and that it was affecting how I performed. After Wednesday's performances he took me into his office and asked me what was wrong.

“Nothing,” I replied, but he wasn't convinced.

“I didn't come down in the last shower, Harriet. Your performances are usually amazing, and they are still good, but they've lost that edge.”

It was at that point that I burst into tears. He walked up and held me as my body shook and in between sobs I blurted out the whole story.

“Well at least now I know what's wrong,” he said when I finally stopped crying.

“I'm so sorry. I feel that I'm letting you down,” I said, on the point of starting to cry again.

“I think you're more worried about letting yourself down,” was his reply. “What actors do is different from a normal job where if you are upset you can hide in a corner until you feel better. Instead, you have to appear before hundreds of people even when it's the last thing you want to be doing. You are a fine actress Harriet, one of the best I've ever seen. Maybe Reggie will ring and maybe he won't, but you have to try and put that out of your mind for the time you are on the stage. No-one will say that's easy, but I've seen actors go on stage after their partners have died or something equally devastating, and give the performance of a lifetime. Do you think you can do that?”

I gulped. “Well compared to that, my problem is very small, David. Yes, I'm sure I can get back to normal. I promise I won't let you down.”

On Friday, David called us together before the performance and told us that due to an overwhelming demand for tickets, Sir Edgar would like to extend the season by two weeks, all the extra time possible as another production was booked to follow us. Not only that, but he would like to make a change to the performance schedule so that instead of matinees on Wednesday and Saturday, we would have them to Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, and of course he would adjust our pay accordingly.

A couple of the cast who are married weren't too happy about it, or at least they suspected their families back in Bridchester might not be, but after some hurried phone calls, everyone was in agreement about the revised schedule. I was thrilled because it meant an extra two weeks as Harriet, and of course, the extra pay would come in handy too. I was deliberately not thinking too much about what would happen when we returned home. I was also sweating on the phone call from Reggie, which finally came on Friday afternoon just as I was on the point of giving up hope. When I saw who was ringing me, my heart started to pound.

“Hello Harriet, how are you?” He sounded nervous.

“I'm fine thank you, Reggie. It's good to hear from you.”

“Harriet, about last Sunday.....” his voice trailed off.

“Reggie, can we just forget about it? It's in the past now and it can stay there.” I hesitated. “Reggie, the fact is I don't think I handled things very well.”

“No, it was me that didn't handle things well, and I'm so sorry about that,” he paused and then in a relieved voice said, “Does that mean you'll come out with me on Sunday?”

“Of course, if you'd like me to.”

“Yes, please. Would you like to choose where we go this time?”

“Well, you've told me it's a very nice area where you live in Southgate, almost in the country. Would you like to show me what it's like?”

Reggie was enthusiastic in accepting the idea; in retrospect I think he would have agreed to anything I said, and we agreed to meet in the hotel foyer at nine o'clock on Sunday.

That evening, after the performance and as Emma and I were getting ready for bed, she suddenly said: “Harry, we need to talk.” I was sitting on the bed in my nightie and was frankly so shocked at the use of a name I hadn't heard for nearly a month that it made me jump as though I'd been stung. Before I had time to open my mouth to protest she half apologised.

“Alright, maybe I shouldn't have used that name but I had to get your attention. I assume you're going out on another date with Reggie on Sunday, and I know you don't like the use of that word, but what else would you call it?”

“But we are just good friends, you said that yourself,” I protested.

“Alright, if you want to call it that. What I wanted to talk to you about was what is going to happen when we return to Bridchester? I've been watching you these past few weeks and I've never seen you look happier, apart from this week, and now you look so much better that I know Reggie has phoned you. The thing is, this is like a fairy tale you know, and eventually you have to come back to reality. And now there's another thing. The cast and crew are happy to go along with the pretence about you because you got us out of a hole in Bridchester and guaranteed us this run in London, but now Reggie is involved too. I know he knows about you but does he really know about you?

“I know I'm partly to blame; I've encouraged you to think of yourself as a girl because it would make it less likely that you would give yourself away, but now I'm starting to wonder - just how do you really see yourself? And another thing – how does Reggie see you; as a friend who is a boy but happens to be dressing as a girl at present, or something more than that? I know you are friends and enjoy each other's company, but suppose things develop further than friendship?” She noticed the deepening colour of my cheeks and went on “Maybe they already have?”

I opened my mouth to speak but she cut in and said “No hear me out. One thing you have to learn about being a girl is that we have a lot of power as far as men are concerned. That even applies to you as you are presenting yourself at present. Men always appear to be tough because that's what they are taught from a young age, but really, they can be as fragile in their feelings as girls are. What happens to Reggie if he starts to get really fond of you as Harriet but you go back to Brid and become Harry again? That's not very fair to him is it?”

I gulped. I hadn't really thought of it that way. I know it was selfish but I'd been thinking more about how it affected me than him. Being a girl for three weeks had given me a whole new view of the world and I loved it.

“Should I ring Reggie up and tell him I can't go out on Sunday?” I said reluctantly, as it was the last thing I wanted to do.

“There's no need for that. I think you should still go out, but in the meantime, you should give some thought to your future, and then, when you see him you should tell him exactly what your feelings and intentions are and he can decide what he wants to do. That's only fair isn't it?”

I could only agree with her, and so we then went to bed, although I lay awake for a long time thinking over what we had discussed.

Sunday arrived and despite us having some rainy days during the week, the day dawned bright and sunny. I had decided to wear Emma's tartan skirt and teamed it with some red opaque tights that I had bought, and I also wore her boots again in case we walked on wet grass or earth. The weather was slightly warmer, so Emma suggested I wear a white camisole over my bra and a white satin top. I could hardly believe that such skimpy garments would protect me from the cold, but Emma knew what she was talking about. Together with a warm fleece-lined jacket, this proved perfect at keeping the cold at bay and looked really pretty and feminine too. I was so grateful to Emma for loaning me so many of her clothes and particularly grateful that she was a 'girly girl' and had such nice clothes for me to borrow. As usual, I took great care with my hair and makeup and this time she didn't comment. The fact was that after thinking for hours the previous two nights, I knew that after what I had to tell Reggie, there was a chance that this might be the last time we went out together and I wanted to always remember it.

After breakfast, I waited in the foyer for Reggie and once again he complimented me on my appearance. He seemed to be wearing the same clothes as the previous week, but I guess for men that doesn't really matter. He still had use of the MG although his flat-mate was due back the following week, so he said this might be the last time he had weekend access to it.

We got into the car and Reggie headed north. I was impressed with his knowledge of the roads since he hadn't been in London very long. We drove on a road called Green Lanes, up through Wood Green. Now heavily built up, I could only imagine that they received their names hundreds of years ago when the area would have been countryside.

At Palmers Green we turned left up Alderman's Hill, past some parkland and eventually reached Southgate with its 'flying saucer' shaped tube station. Reggie told me this was where he took the train each morning as his flat was only ten minutes' walk away. Southgate apparently referred to the south gate of Enfield Chase, a royal deer-hunting forest in the Middle Ages, now long gone of course.

I have to admit that Reggie was keeping most of the conversation going as I was still rather absorbed in my thoughts. He made no comment until we reached Grovelands Park where he suggested we get out for a walk.

“There is a boating lake here but I think that should be kept for warmer weather,” he said, and then paused. “Harriet, what's wrong? You sounded a lot happier on the phone, but you've hardly said a word so far. Are you still thinking about last week or not feeling well?”

“Oh no Reggie, I'm having a lovely time. It's just that my sister Emma had a 'heart-to-heart' talk with me on Friday, and I've been thinking a lot about it ever since.”

“If this is leading up to telling me that you don't want to go out with me any more, then please just come out with it,” he said, his face suddenly serious.

I felt tears start in my eyes. “No Reggie, it's not like that at all.”

“Here, come and sit down on this seat for a while and tell me all about it,” he said, taking my hand and leading me to a park bench.

“Well Reggie, it's like this. When you first saw me dressed as a girl, I told you it was part of the deal that I enabled me and the whole company to perform 'Brutus' in London, and that was true. The thing is, after dressing this way for nearly a month, I'm coming to terms with the fact that this is the person I want to be – permanently. In fact, I know now I've been playing a part all my life, pretending to be a boy. I always knew something wasn't quite right, I didn't know what, but now I do. Emma asked me what I'm going to do when we go back to Bridchester, and I realise that the thought of going back to being Harry appalls me. If I don't keep living as Harriet, then I will always think that I missed the most important chance of my life and I'm going to be miserable for ever. Emma said I must tell you how I feel and now I have. Reggie, I don't want to be a 'might-have-been' girl like Margaret in the play, so if this is all too weird for you to handle and you don't want anything to do with me any more......” my voice trailed off.

Tears were running down my cheeks, and Reggie put his arm around me and producing a handkerchief gently dabbed at my cheeks.

“My dear sweet girl,” he said. “Whatever makes you think that I wouldn't want anything to do with you? I know you said not to talk about last Sunday, but the fact is ever since then it's been on my mind that I might lose you. I realised that the way you reacted…..well it wasn't the way a boy would react, but it was exactly the way a girl would react. Do you think that what you've just said comes as a surprise to me? I'll tell you something that you won't remember, but that I've often thought about. When we were at school together and you were coaching me in Latin, we were up in my bedroom one day and I suddenly looked at you and thought how much you looked like a girl. I had an overwhelming urge to kiss you. In fact, I probably would have but...”

“Your mother came in with milk and biscuits,” I cut in.

Reggie laughed. “So you do remember,” he said.

“A girl always remembers her first kiss, even if it didn't quite happen,” I said. Then I smiled shyly, “Of course your mother isn't here now.”

Reggie was looking at me intently but now he smiled as he moved closer to me. I closed my eyes and then felt his warm lips on mine as his arms tightened around me. We kissed for a long time and when we finally came up for air Reggie said: “Better now?”

“Oh yes!”

We walked back to the car hand in hand, and it suddenly felt like the sun was warmer than before. My kisses from Monty were wiped from my mind - this was my first real kiss.

“Did you want to go to a restaurant for lunch, or would you like me to cook you something?” he said.

“I'd love you to cook me lunch,” I said.

Back at Reggie's flat, he showed me through. There were two bedrooms, a lounge room, kitchen, bathroom, and laundry. I was pleasantly surprised by how clean and tidy it was. Men have a bit of a reputation for living in a mess, but it certainly didn't apply to Reggie and Richard's flat. Of course, he might have thought there was a chance I'd be visiting and so made a special effort, and his next words confirmed that.

“I was hoping you'd come here today, so I assembled the ingredients to make a risotto,” he said.

“Lovely,” I said. “May I watch? I've made up my mind that it's time I learned to do more than boil an egg.”

Reggie seemed very confident in the kitchen. After checking what I enjoyed eating, he put together a mushroom, brie and herb risotto which was served straight from the pan to our plates and tasted absolutely delicious. I was lavish in my praise and he was very pleased. He offered me a glass of wine but said he would not have one himself because he had 'precious cargo' to deliver safely back to Finsbury Park. Instead, we had mineral water, followed by a cup of coffee which we drank while seated together on the sofa in front of the gas fire while listening to jazz on the stereo. It will not surprise you to learn that it wasn't long before we were kissing again. After starting off the day fearing that this would be the last time I saw Reggie, all my concerns had come to naught. I knew that there might not be a future for us together, but it was enough for now that he accepted my chosen gender, and I fully intended to make the most of the remaining time we had together.

Reggie drove me back to the hotel as it was getting dark. There was time for one more lingering kiss before I went inside, and a promise that we would be seeing each other on the following Sunday. When I went up to my room I was a little surprised to find that Emma was not there. Not wanting to hang around there on my own, I went down to the sitting room and there discovered Ross sitting alone watching television. It is not infrequent for performers, particularly when they are away from home for extended periods to form a temporary liaison. When one or other happens to be married, this can lead to complications. I knew that Ross and Emma had been seeing a bit of each other for the past month, and since both were single, there was no problem with this. I was a bit surprised when after asking him if he had seen Emma, he said he hadn't.

I sat in an adjacent chair and we both watched television for a while and then Ross said he was going to bed. I stayed up until ten o'clock, but that was late enough for me, with a rehearsal and another performance the next day, so I also retired. I had no idea what time it was when Emma finally entered our room, and since she was tip-toeing around to avoid waking me up, I felt that the best thing was to pretend to be asleep.

The next morning I had to wake her as she seemed very tired, almost groggy.

“What time did you get in?” I asked. “Ross was asking where you were but I didn't know.”

Emma flushed. It was rare for her to look embarrassed but she did now.

“I had a date,” she said. “Just like you. How did yours go by the way?” It seemed to me that she was anxious to change the subject.

“Very well,” I replied. “I made my decision. I told Reggie that I wasn't just dressing as a girl for the sake of the production but because that is what I feel I am. I was scared to death how he would react, but he wasn't surprised at all. He even reminded me about a time when he nearly kissed me years ago when I was tutoring him in Latin, but his mother came into the room and it didn't happen.”

“And I take it he didn't 'nearly' kiss you this time?”

It was now my turn to blush. “Well, I did point out that yesterday his mother wasn't there.”

Emma laughed. “You really are a girl, Harriet. You're already learning how to get what you want without coming out and asking for it. So when we go back to Brid are you going to tell Mum that Harry has gone and you are Harriet from now on?”

“Yes, I am. I hope she is not too shocked.”

“She'll probably ask me if we encouraged this by buying you the breast forms, but I will tell her we only provided a small push to something that was inevitable.”

I hugged Emma. “You are the best sister a girl could have,” I said. “Now I think it's time you got a shower and freshened up.”

“Goodness, do I look that bad?” she said.

Emma didn't tell me where she had been that night, and I would never have known except a few days later Sir Edgar arrived unannounced at the theatre to see Duncan about something.

Seeing me he said “Hello young lady, how are you?”

“Very well Sir Edgar, and I'm still enjoying playing Margaret,” I replied.

“Very good, and may I say you are looking prettier than ever. By the way, how's your sister?” he asked, and at that moment I knew.

“She's fine thank you, Sir Edgar. I'll tell her you asked after her.” I replied.

There was a smug self-satisfied look on his face and I thought 'Emma, how could you? He's old enough to be your father.'

That evening, back in the hotel room I said to her “I saw Sir Edgar today. He asked how you were.” She immediately flushed and confirmed my suspicions.

“You know, don't you,” she said. It was more a statement than a question.

“It's not for me to pass judgment on what you do,” I replied, although perhaps with that statement it was exactly what I was doing.

“It was a mistake, a silly mistake,” she said. “He's been chasing me for weeks, telephone calls, texts, flowers.” I had wondered about a large bouquet of flowers that was in our room but assumed they were from Ross.

“Today he rang and offered me a small part in one of his West End productions.”

“What an opportunity!” I exclaimed.

“Yes it was, but I turned it down. I was polite but I said my mother needed me to stay in Bridchester.” I looked at her with astonishment. Most performers would give their eye teeth to get onto the West End stage.

“I know what you're thinking,” she said, “But when I finally get offered a part I want it to be on merit alone, not for 'services rendered'.”

Now it was my turn to walk across and hug her. I felt curiously like the older sister, just for once. “And you will get a good part one day, and on your merits,” I said.

Emma had tears in her eyes “Just not in a Sir Edgar Blakely theatre, I suspect.”

“Well there are plenty of others,” I responded. “If he holds a grudge, would you really want to work for him anyway?”

Since that time through theatre scuttlebutt, it has come to my knowledge that more than one famous name got their big break from a 'horizontal audition'. My sister is as human as the next person and as prone to make mistakes. I'm proud of the fact she made the decision she did.

To be continued

I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Louise Anne in proofreading the text and giving me a great deal of useful advice about modern-day Britain to incorporate in the story.