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

Chapter 21   Blithe Spirit

It was opening night of the new production of “Dear Brutus”, and the theatre was abuzz with excitement and nervous energy. I am reminded of the musical version of “Sunset Boulevard” where Norma Desmond, the retired silent movie star revisits her old film studios and sings a song which includes the line

'The atmosphere as thrilling here as always'

Theatres are just the same, and at no time more so than on the opening night of a new production. It was in these circumstances that the following incident happened. You may well think it was the product of an overheated imagination, and you may even be right. I can only relate what I experienced and leave the conclusion up to you.

I was sharing a dressing room with Elspeth and also Sharon, one of the other cast members, and there was constant coming and going. By chance, as I was settling down to do my make-up, at which I was now very competent, the room was empty for five minutes. I really appreciated that as I was applying my eye make-up which requires a steady hand. I was concentrating on my eyeliner, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed in the mirror that a young woman was standing at the back of the room smiling at me. Strange, I hadn't heard the door open, and what's more, I didn't recognise her. I thought she might be a friend of Elspeth or Sharon. I finished what I was doing and then paused.

“Hello, I'm Harriet,” I said, still looking at her in the mirror. She didn't reply, and slightly annoyed at her rudeness, I swung around to confront her, and there was nobody there!

You know that expression about the hair standing up on the back of your neck? I promise you it's true. I swung round to look in the mirror again and thank goodness there was no sign of her or I would have run screaming from the room.

Just then, Elspeth came back in. I was tempted to ask her if anyone was in the corridor outside the dressing room, but realised how futile that was. I could hear them walking up and down and talking, although a minute ago there had been complete silence.

Elspeth looked at me curiously. “Are you alright?” she said.

“Yes, just first night nerves you know?” I replied.

“I've never had the chance apart from at the College,” she said sadly.

“I'm sure you will,” I replied, trying to cheer her up while my brain was whirling. I had to talk to someone about this or it would distract me all night, and the only person to talk to was Ma.

I finished getting ready and then telling Elspeth that I was going to talk to Ma about something, I hurried from the dressing-room, down to find Ma in her room just finishing sewing a button on a costume.

“Have you got a minute Ma?” I said. I think it was on the tip of her tongue to say she was too busy but she saw the look on my face and said: “Well if it is only a minute.” A couple of her assistants were there, so we walked to a corner of the room where we could talk without being overheard.

I started off by saying “Ma, I hope you won't laugh at me...” and then went on to tell her what I had seen, well at least what I thought I had seen.

“What was she wearing?” she said.

“Well, it was rather an old-fashioned dress, grey and with a mid-calf hem, and her hair had that nineteen forties look about it, so it was all a bit 'retro'.”

“You've seen Alice,” she said quietly.

“Who's Alice? Is she an actress?”

“Yes she is, or rather was,” said Ma. “Alice was performing in this theatre in the early nineteen forties. It was the time of the blitz and some West End theatres closed because it was thought too dangerous to continue performances. Here, we're a bit out of the city, so it was decided to stay open. The play was Noël Coward's “Blithe Spirit”, and Alice had the role of Elvira, the ghost of the first wife of the lead male character Charles.

“She shared a house with about six girls not far from the theatre, 'digs' as they were called then. Late one night a bomb landed a direct hit on it and everyone including Alice was killed.

“It was a short while afterwards that people started saying they had seen Alice at the theatre. It was only actresses who reported it and led to some remarks about hysterical women of course, but since that time, many people have seen her, and you are the latest.”

I'm sure I had turned pale at this story, even though like most people I refused to believe in ghosts, well at least I had until that moment.

“So does that mean bad luck is coming?” I asked.

“No, on the contrary, she is only seen when the production is going to be a great success,” said Ma. “In fact, if you don't mind, I'd like to pass the word around that she's been seen, but I won't say by whom, and that will be a really positive vibe for the cast and crew.”

“Well alright if you say so.”

“And don't be so surprised at your experience,” said Ma. “Every theatre I know has at least one ghost, in fact some have several – like the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. That's got at least four, maybe more.”

I didn't keep Ma any longer but at least I had an explanation for my experience, even if it was one I found difficulty in believing.

I returned to my dressing room, which was empty, and I felt rather disinclined to stay there, but just then Elspeth burst into the room and I jumped.

“Guess what? Alice has been seen,” she announced with an air of self-importance.

“Who's Alice?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Elspeth looked at me, and suddenly a smile spread over her face.

“It was you, wasn't it? When I came in before and you were on your own I nearly said that you looked like you had seen a ghost. I'm right aren't I?”

“O.K., you're right, but please don't tell anyone. They'll think I'm going nuts.”

“Well, you're not the first person to see her apparently and I'm told that when she appears that's a sign it's going to be a very successful run.”

“I know, Ma told me that, but I'd still rather you didn't tell anyone.”

“Alright, it's a promise,” she replied.

I never saw Alice again, if indeed I had seen her at all, but Ma was right – that first performance was magical. Jim was in fine form and while I was performing the final few minutes of my scene it felt like the whole audience was holding its breath, a sure sign that they are really engaged with what is happening on-stage. When I ran off the stage and the curtain came down, the applause was thunderous – no other word describes it. All the hard work had been worthwhile.

At the end of the play, we took our bows to a standing ovation, and at Mark's direction, I came on-stage and took a bow by myself. The audience was actually cheering me! I guess that's what comes of having the play's most dramatic moment. Still, it is a very satisfying feeling to know you've done well.

Reggie came round to the dressing room after the show and was admitted after Sharon and I were 'decent'. He was bearing a huge bunch of flowers. Goodness knows what they cost him but I have learned to accept gifts with good grace. I think there is nothing worse than when someone says 'You shouldn't have'. The appropriate answer to that is surely 'Alright, I won't do it again'.

He kissed me on the cheek and said: “Harriet, you were amazing.” Thank goodness Elspeth had already gone home. Nevertheless, I was pleased that after seeing the play three times, he still thought I did a good performance.

We took a taxi back to Louise's house. She had been at the performance too and was equally complimentary. We had some coffee and at my insistence, because it was getting quite late, Reggie took a taxi home.

It's probably fair to say that all artists are exhibitionists. After all, who else would want to spend their time performing in front of a large audience? However it's also fair to say that we often have fairly fragile egos, so although the opinion of the critics would make very little difference to this production with its guaranteed audience of thousands of school children, it still meant a lot to us that our performances should be complimented.

On Monday, I bought all the daily papers, and was pleased to see that of those who reviewed 'Brutus', the opinions were universally positive. I suppose my favourite had to be the one where I was mentioned in the following excerpt.

“Harriet Stow reprised her performance of Margaret from an earlier production and once again held the audience in the palm of her hand as the 'might-have-been' daughter of the failed artist Dearth, (a competent performance from Jim Rogers). Her final moments on stage were truly emotional, and the subsequent ovation richly deserved.”

I hope reproducing that doesn't make me a contender for the 'Swollen Head of the Year' award! Nor the fact that I duly posted the reviews up to Mum to put in her scrapbook of my career. I would have been in trouble if I hadn't!

A couple of days later there was a surprise for me. A small envelope arrived by post at the theatre, I opened it to find a card inside. It featured a line drawing of a theatre scene, and inside was a hand-written message as follows.

Dear Harriet,

Emily Good.

I read the card slowly twice more and realised that my hand was shaking. I was being offered the opportunity of a lifetime. When I thought of all the other actresses of my age who might take the role, even if I made it to understudy that would be an achievement in itself. I remembered what Emma said about understudies getting a chance to perform, and knew I would never forgive myself if I turned down this opportunity.

That evening I phoned Mum and told her what had happened. She was as excited as I was.

“Wait until I tell Emma,” she said.

“I feel a bit embarrassed about that, Mum. Emma has longed for a big break and here I am, with just one role under my belt and getting this offer. Don't you think she'll be wildly jealous? I know I would be in her position.”

“I'll let you into a secret,” said Mum. “Recently we were talking about you and Emma was wondering if you had telephoned Dame Emily yet. 'I hope she does, Mum,' she said. 'It could lead to great things for her.' I'm telling you this so you know she will be thrilled at what's happened.”

“Well, it hasn't happened yet Mum. There might be twenty people auditioning and I mightn't even get to the short list.”

“That doesn't matter,” said Mum. “Your name will start to get known, and the story will get around that you know Dame Emily. Anyway, let's be positive about this; you have as good a chance as anyone else.”

The next day I rang Dame Emily. I confess I was shaking with nerves, and when the familiar voice answered the phone I took so long to announce myself that she had to say 'Hello?' twice. Finallyr I took a deep breath and started to speak.

“Hello Dame Emily, it's Harriet Stow. Thank you so much for the card and the offer to audition for Ophelia.” It all came out in one breath.

“Harriet my dear, I'm so glad to hear from you. I did ask you to call me the next time you were in London but I understand that you have been busy with rehearsals.”

I gulped. “Well actually Dame Emily, I didn't want to take advantage of your kindness, me being at the very start of my career, and you being....well, you know.”

She laughed. “We all have to start somewhere Harriet. I can remember being your age and really nervous, wondering if anyone would think I was good enough to act professionally. Seeing you on opening night I could tell that you are steadily improving and it's good to see. I wouldn't have recommended that you audition for Ophelia if I didn't think you could play the part.”

“Thank you so much, Dame Emily. I really appreciate what you are doing for me and of course, I want to audition.”

“Good,” she said. “I'll give you Tony, the director's phone number, and you must tell him you're the young lady I recommended.”

Thank goodness I'd had the foresight to have a pen and paper handy. I recorded the number and we finished the call. It was only then that I realised that I had stopped shaking.

I picked up the phone again and dialed the number she had given me.

“Hello, Tony Robertson speaking.”

“Mr Robertson, its Harriet Stow. Dame Emily Good gave me your number to ring regarding auditioning for the part of Ophelia at Stratford.”

“Hello Harriet, yes she did mention you to me. I'm sorry, I haven't heard your name before, can you give me some background, please? I know you are currently playing in 'Dear Brutus'. What other roles have you played?”

My heart sank. “Actually, this is my first role but I'm playing it again in a new production.”

“I see,” he replied. “What about your training? Which drama school did you attend?”

I gulped. This was getting worse and worse. “Actually I didn't go to drama school. I was working as ASM for the Apollo Players in Bridchester. Err, that's on the Yorkshire coast. The actor playing Margaret was taken ill and because I knew the role I was asked to take over at short notice. I did audition for the new production and was given the role.”

There was silence at the end of the line and my heart sank.

“Harriet, I'll be frank with you. I have a short list of four young actresses who are auditioning for Ophelia. They've all had more experience than you and two of them were trained at RADA. I'm sure you've heard of our company and know of the standards we set. However, Dame Emily is a friend and in deference to her, I will add you to the list. Since a number of people auditioning are currently working, I have scheduled the auditions for next Sunday, here at Stratford. Can you be here by two o'clock?”

“Of course, Mr Robertson,” I replied, wondering how on earth I was going to get there.

“Good. I have asked everyone to read from Act III Scene 1, starting from the end of Hamlet's 'To be or not to be' speech where he says

'The fair Ophelia!- Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins rememb'red'

through to and including

'O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!'

I'd like you to do it without the book, will that be alright?”

“Certainly Mr Robertson,” I replied sounding as confident as I could be.

“Good, I'll look forward to seeing you at Stratford next Sunday,” he said and hung up.

I stood for a moment staring at the phone. Without putting it into so many words, Tony Robertson had made it quite clear that my chances of getting the role were near enough to zero. I felt like bursting into tears, but thank goodness at that precise moment Reggie phoned me.

“What's up babe?” he said. “You don't sound very happy.”

“Oh Reggie, I just spoke to the director of 'Hamlet' and he told me there are four other girls auditioning for Ophelia who are much more qualified than me, and he's only going to hear me as a favour to Dame Emily. He didn't say as much, but I don't think he really expects me to bother coming for the audition and I think he's probably right; it would be just a waste of time.”

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.