There is Nothing like a Dame Chapter 15

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There is Nothing like a Dame

A novel by Bronwen Welsh


Copyright© 2017 Bronwen Welsh

A sequel to 'The Might-Have-Been Girl' and 'All the World's a Stage'

Chapter 15   First rehearsal

I was up early the following morning, being eager to start on the work I had come to do. I passed on the bacon but had cereal and a boiled egg and toast for breakfast. Weighing scales had been thoughtfully placed in the adjoining bathroom to my bedroom and I had a suspicion that I might already have put on a few pounds, not something any woman wants to see!

Hiram handed over the keys to the Jeep and asked if I was alright about driving down to East Devon on my own. I assured him I was ok, and I had my cell phone (yes I remembered to use the correct local terminology) in case of emergencies. He told me that there was a parking area at the rear of the theatre for staff and that I should leave the Jeep there to avoid a ticket.

Despite my reservations, I handled the Jeep quite well, and I was waiting at the stage door when Miranda arrived.

“Well, you are enthusiastic,” she said, smiling.

“It's time I started earning my keep,” I replied.

“We'll start this morning by introducing you to the cast and I thought we'd run through the first couple of acts of R&J so you can see what progress we've made.”

“Is everybody 'off book'?” I enquired, hoping that the cast all knew their parts by heart.

“They certainly should be,” she replied. “A couple were not quite there a few days ago and I told them that by today, you would be expecting them to be word-perfect, as would I, so to please not let me down. Shall we go inside?”

The stage hands were already in the theatre and starting to install the scenery. For Romeo and Juliet, one of the most important parts is the 'balcony scene' which requires a more complex installation than most of the scenery, so they were busy building it to be ready for the rehearsals. They were making good progress which I was glad to see as they couldn't be hammering once we started rehearsing.

The cast started to arrive soon after and I was introduced to each of them in turn. Julie Anderson was playing Juliet. She was a slight pretty girl who certainly looked younger than her twenty years. She also looked rather nervous and I hoped that meeting me was not intimidating for her. Her co-star as Romeo was introduced to me as James Dean. He was obviously waiting for me to make a remark so I disappointed him by just shaking his hand and saying I was pleased to meet him. He was a very handsome young man and I suspected that his parents had deliberately named him after the late film star. Whether that was a good idea or not, I couldn't say. We went through all the other cast members and I was pleased to see that the Capulet and Montague parents were in their forties which was probably about the right age for the thirteenth century, when life spans were nothing like they are today.

As Miranda and I walked back to the auditorium where we would watch the rehearsal I mentioned to her that no-one seemed to be playing 'Chorus'.

“It's such a small part we haven't asked anyone to do it yet,” she said.

That surprised me; after all, small though the part is, the prologue sets the tone for the whole play. It was then that I had one of my 'brain-waves'.

“Would you like me to do it?” I said.

Miranda stared at me: “Well it's always played by a man,” she said.

“Only because all the parts were played by men or boys in Shakespeare's time,” I replied.

Miranda laughed: ”Well, you know, it just might work; that's if you don't mind doing a cameo rôle? You realise the audience will recognise your name and applaud when they see you?”

“Do you think that would disrupt the play?”

“Well it's rather an American trait to applaud well-known actors when they first appear. I know that doesn't happen in Britain. Anyway, why don't we try it and see how it does?”

“I've just had another idea; Elizabeth is my second name, and I'm actually Mrs Staunton now, so 'Elizabeth Staunton', how does that sound?”

Miranda laughed: “That's perfect.”

We discussed how to approach presenting the Prologue and as I walked up the steps to the stage, Miranda announced what we were trying out. I stood in the wings, 'stage right' where the actors playing Sampson and Gregory were standing and explained that I would enter 'stage right' and exit 'stage left' as they appeared.

“Right everyone let's start,” called out Miranda.

I walked onto the stage and in that instant realised how much I was missing acting even though it had only been a few weeks. Fortunately I was wearing a skirt because I walked to the front of the thrust stage, curtseyed to the non-existent audience, paused dramatically for a moment and started the Prologue, which is written in the form of a sonnet:

”Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.”

I curtseyed again and walked off, stage left, and as I did so, I heard Gregory and Sampson walk on stage behind me and Sampson say: 'Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.'

I thought it went very well, and I was about to walk down to sit beside Miranda when I realised that Julie was waiting in the wings to see me.

“Miss Stow, could I have a word with you please?” she said.

“Call me Harriet, please,” I replied.

“I was waiting to speak to you anyway, but watching you just then, I was just blown away. I mean, I know it was totally improvised how you performed it and you didn't even use the script! You must know the whole text of the play. I really don't think I should be playing this part, you should be doing it.”

She looked really frightened and miserable, so I took both her hands in mine.

“Julie, I'm not here to perform the play, my rôle is to offer what advice and help I can to your group. It may be hard for you to do, but just try and forget that I am watching you. How do you get on with James? Having chemistry with Romeo is really helpful if you are to put on a good performance.”

She coloured up immediately and that told me more than her words: “We get on alright.”

'Excellent!” I said. “That really gives you a head start. Just concentrate on that chemistry and pretend you are a fourteen year old girl in love for the first time. If I can offer any help, remember I'm here to do just that, so don't hesitate for a moment to come and speak to me.”

'At least you don't have to pretend to be in love,' I thought to myself.

Julie started to look a little more relaxed, so I told her that Miranda was expecting me to sit with her and watch the rehearsal. I squeezed her hand and walked down to the auditorium.

Miranda whispered: “I thought you were lost. You've got the part by the way.”

I smiled at her: “Thanks.”

I was in time to watch James performing Romeo in the first scene at which point he believes himself in love with Rosaline. James was a very competent actor and I looked forward to seeing him and Julie together, although Juliet first appears in Scene Three, and the two are not together until the masked ball in Scene Five.

As I feared, when Julie first appeared she was obviously still very nervous. She knew her lines, that was one good thing.

Without looking at Miranda, I whispered: “Is she always this nervous?”

“Not usually. Perhaps it's your presence. I expect she'll settle down,” she whispered back.

I began to worry that my cameo appearance had really unsettled Julie. Perhaps it was an uncalled for indulgence on my part and I shouldn't have done it. I waited with bated breath to see how Julie and Dean acted together in Scene Five.

The moment came and I held my breath when Dean took her hand and spoke those lovely words:

'If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.'

As he kissed her hand, it was obvious to me that Julie was blushing and you can't do that to order.

As she responded:

'Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.'

I looked at Miranda and smiled. This was what I wanted to see.

The scene continued, with both Romeo and Juliet finding that they have fallen in love with a child of their own parents' enemies. At the conclusion of the act, Miranda called out: ”Thank you everyone, we'll take a break and start Act Two in thirty minutes.”

“Well, what did you think?” she said to me.

“Generally very good,” I replied. “The main concern was Julie of course, but once Dean appeared she settled down, so perhaps it was just a temporary thing.”

“You saw the blush of course?” said Miranda.

I laughed: ”Yes, I've already worked out that they have an off-stage relationship. I think that will be a good thing provided that it's maintained.”

I thought to myself 'If it breaks down, then we have a problem.'

“I meant to tell you, her real name is Juliet, but she finds that embarrassing, so that's why she prefers to be called Julie,” said Miranda. “Anyway, would you like a coffee?”

There was a café only two doors down from the theatre, so we walked there for our coffee break. Several of the cast were there too but they did not approach us, probably knowing that we were discussing their performances.

After our break, as we walked back, Miranda said “Time for your second appearance”

“Is it so obvious that I miss being on stage?” I asked.

“You're no different from every actor I've ever known,” she replied, laughing. “Look who's blushing now!”

--ooOoo--

The scene being set and the actors ready, once more I walked on-stage and curtseyed:

'Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,
Alike betwitched by the charm of looks,
But to his foe supposed he must complain,
And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks:
Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;
And she as much in love, her means much less
To meet her new-beloved any where:
But passion lends them power, time means, to meet
Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.'

This time, after leaving the stage, I walked straight down to the stalls where Miranda was sitting and looked forward to seeing the most famous scene in the play, Act Two, Scene Two, the 'Balcony Scene'.

It went very well indeed. It was obvious to me that Julie was really in love with Dean, but was he in love with her or just a very good actor? I confess I had a nagging feeling that things could go 'pear-shaped' as we say in England if Dean made it clear that he just wanted to be 'good friends'. Well, there was nothing Miranda and I could do about it but hope for the best.

“Do you have an understudy for the lead actors?” I asked Miranda.

“No, we don't. We work on a tight budget and can't really afford to have someone sitting in the dressing room 'just in case'. In the worst instance, and thank goodness it's only happened once, we had to have a substitute go on-stage with a script. It was either that or cancel the performance.”

My personal opinion was that the latter option would have been the preferred one, but I was looking at it from the artistic point of view rather than the financial one. Cancelling performances can be very expensive. Fortunately, it wasn't my decision to make if a crisis occurred. Anyway, perhaps I was worrying unnecessarily.

Miranda and I sat together watching the rest of the act, and afterwards I suggested a few points where I thought improvements could be made, while emphasising that it was Miranda's call whether she accepted them or not. It was a boost to my ego that she seemed to think they were well worth employing. At the end of the rehearsal, I drove back to Tara without any dramas. When I parked the Jeep in the garage I noticed that 'Annabel' was missing and commented on this to Blossom when I saw her.

“Yes, Mr Thompson had to go to Boston on business,” she said. “They should be back in time for dinner.”

--ooOoo--

Magnolia and Hiram liked to dress for dinner. It was nothing like 'Downton Abbey' of course, but he wore a suit and tie and she wore one of a seemingly endless supply of long gowns. I say 'endless' since I never saw her wear the same one twice.

It had rapidly become apparent to me that the wardrobe I had packed for the trip with its emphasis on casual wear, was woefully inadequate. I hoped that Magnolia would suggest a shopping trip soon, so that I could buy at least another two suitable dresses to add to the two that I was presently alternating.

It was then that I had one of my famous 'brainwaves', and the next time I spoke to Reggie I explained my problem and said I would send him a list of formal dresses for him to bring over when he visited for three days in a couple of week's time. I even suggested that he lay them across the back seat of his car when he next visited Stella at Bridchester and took a large suitcase so that Emma could pack them properly for me.

“What if Customs ask to see inside the suitcases?” he asked. “It will look strange that I'm taking so much luggage when I'm only staying three days. The Americans, in particular, might be suspicious, especially when they see what's inside one of them.”

“Well, you could say you're a crossdresser,” I laughed. “Or maybe it would be better just to tell the truth. They can always ring me if they want verification, but please ask them not to crease the dresses if they start poking around in the suitcase.”

--ooOoo--

I had wondered if Magnolia and Hiram had any children, but it seemed tactful not to ask as sometimes an innocent inquiry can invoke an unhappy response. On my second evening at Tara, as Magnolia and I were sipping our sherries, and waiting for Hiram and Henry to return, I happened to look at a framed picture on the piano. It consisted of two handsome young men on either side of a pretty teenage girl. Magnolia noticed me looking and walking up said: “Our children”.

“You must be very proud of them,” I said. “What are they doing now?”

A shadow passed over her face: “We lost James just over three years ago,” she said, indicating the older of the young men.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” I replied. It seemed that Magnolia wanted to talk. Perhaps it was something she kept bottled up inside her. It occurred to me now that there always seemed to be an air of sadness about her. Now I knew why.

“It was a motor cycle accident. I begged him not to buy one, but you know what young men are like, they think they're bullet proof. It wasn't even his fault; he was out riding when another young man in an automobile performed a U-turn right in front of him. He did the right thing, calling 911 and an ambulance was there in five minutes but there was nothing they could do.

“The young man was charged over it of course. He pleaded guilty and received a five-year jail term with the chance of a year off for good behaviour. I had written to the judge asking him to be lenient, since it was bad enough that one family had been devastated. He acknowledged that in his sentencing, but said it was too serious an offence for any less time, and he had to set an example.”

She sighed: “It's a terrible punishment for a moment's inattention. There was only one good thing that came out of it. James had always said that if anything happened to him, he wanted to be an organ donor. We respected his wishes, and it's some consolation to know that his heart still beats in another person's body, and his kidneys and corneas were also used.”

What can you say to someone when they have just told you about a tragedy that broke their heart? I took Magnolia's hands in mine and said: “I'm so, so, sorry.”

She managed a brave smile: “It happened three years ago but I think about him every day. No parent should have to bury their child.”

She paused for a moment and then looking at the picture again she said: “Gregory followed his brother into West Point where he's a cadet. We thought he might be trying to make up for the loss of James, but he insisted that's what he wanted to do, and he's going very well. He swore to me that he would never get on a motorcycle. Andrea is studying Studio Art at Vassar College in Poughkeepsie. I'm a proud mother of course, but I believe she's very talented; in fact I'll show you some of her work.”

Magnolia led me to an adjacent wall where there were some framed drawings and paintings, including one of the house at Tara, and a head and shoulders portrait of Magnolia. I could see that Magnolia wasn't just being a proud parent when she said that Andrea was very talented.

“This is wonderful work,” I said. “Just think of what she'll do in the future.”

Magnolia opened a drawer in a bureau and took out a framed charcoal drawing: “She drew James the last time they were home together. I can't bear to hang it on a wall, but I take it out and look at it often.”

Just then I heard the sound of 'Annabel' drawing up outside the house, and was rather relieved that Hiram's homecoming would be a distraction for Magnolia.

A few minutes later the door to the lounge room opened. I turned around and gasped: “What are you doing here?”

To be continued.

Many thanks once again to Louise Ann and Julia Phillips for spotting my 'typos', thus allowing me to correct them before publishing. A special thank-you to Karen Lockhart, a native of New England who has provided me with local knowledge and correct American idioms for this and the following chapters while Harriet visits the United States.

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Comments

Right Lady!!!!

Christina H's picture

Another mini cliff hanger - now who is the mysterious 'you' ??

I have my theories but will refrain putting them in words in case I spoil things. Though as usual a thoughtful and interesting episode.
Love the story Bron

Christina

I'm Thinking From the Reaction...

...that it's a man. (If it were a woman, I'd go with Dame Emily.)

But all who come to mind (assuming it's not some instantly recognizable celebrity -- actor, politician, royal family member) are Philip Whitlow, Reggie's football captain who may have some issue with Harriet over Stella; Bob Redford, the lawyer who was Harriet's seatmate on the aborted flight; and Richard Jenkins, her ex-lover and co-star, who'll be reprising Romeo and Juliet with her when she gets back to the U.K. .

My bet's on Jenkins.

Eric

My money is on...

waif's picture

...Richard.

My reasoning is two-fold.

She had some foreshadowing with the worries over no understudies and the fear of Julie and James' relationship going "pear shaped". This would give them both the chance to fill in if the lovers become "star cross'd" for real.

I am kinda-sorta hoping that it is Dame Emily.

Be kind to those who are unkind, tolerant toward those who treat you with intolerance, loving to those who withhold their love, and always smile through the pains of life.

Nice choice of colleges, Vassar and West Point

Amazing how the story is as natural in the US as it was in the UK.
The visitor soon will be revealed, I'm sure, but isn't it nice to speculate?

My lips are zipped !

Who?

That's it! Who? :)

Robi

A pleasent surprise

Wendy Jean's picture

Thursday snuck up on me

Reggie

I wonder if it’s Reggie or that other Romeo actor.

hugs :)
Michelle SidheElf Amaianna

I also have an idea of the

I also have an idea of the mysterious 'you'... but I think I'd rather offer it in a private message to the titillating Ms Welsh in case a guess becomes a spoiler too!

Hugs,
Stacy

I have been warned

Monique S's picture

Christina warned me that you are known for your cliff hangers, well, this certaily is a good one. I am sure I know who it is, but mum's the word.
You nicely picked up the story again, a lovely read, thank you.
Monique.

Monique S

Beautiful

waif's picture

Bronwen,

You amaze me.

I apologize for my recent lack of feedback, but I just have to applaud the quality of this story. As a frustrated thespian, you have captured the essence of theater while making Harriet's transition from England to America virtually seamless.

Every nuance of every scene has the ring of truth. I applaud both you and your excellent proof readers for bringing us this tale.

Brava,

waif

Be kind to those who are unkind, tolerant toward those who treat you with intolerance, loving to those who withhold their love, and always smile through the pains of life.

Fingernail Lickin' Good

joannebarbarella's picture

Bronwen, you are a tease. I reckon I know who it is but others have posted their guesses so I will refrain....but it ain't Reggie. If it were he'd get a bullocking for not bringing Harriet's dresses.

Don't you dare be late with the next chapter!

Accidents and organ donors

TheCropredyKid's picture

I am an organ donor - in Georgia, it goes on your driver's license.

Many years ago, my cousin - the only one of the thirteen of us who could be said the be "beautiful" instead of "distinguished" or "not-bad-looking", who had just turned twenty-one, gotten her head together after a couple of lost years with drugs, and completed a course to be a nurse's aide - was killed by a drunk driver.

Nothing like this "moment of inattention" - he was in the wrong lane, hit them head on, and the car was tossed off the road into a field.

I mentioned that my cousin was beautiful?

I think they counted more than eighteen fractures In her face before they stopped counting.

She had not signed as an organ donor, but her older sister, who is a nurse, persuaded their mother to sign the forms to let her organs be used. {Her heart, i know, went to a teenager with a congenital heart defect.}

I don't know what happened to the drunk who murdered my beautiful cousin. {It was like his third DUI offence; he was the twenty-something son of someone with money.}

I don't want to know.

Because if i ever did know, and he wasn't in prison when i found out ... i'd kill the bastard.

 
 
 
x

Star struck

Jamie Lee's picture

Sometimes self doubt is amplified when someone well known appears. Julie had some self doubt before Harriet arrived, but it increased when she knew Harriet would be watching her performance. And unless Julie's self doubt is put into a box, it will be even worse on opening night.

There is another aspect of acting that has nothing to do with stage work and that is a persons' personal life, and how it affects their performance. Harriet knows first hand the problems a messed up personal life can insert into a performance. That's why she recognized the love Julie has for Dean. And why she hoped it didn't go south.

Others have feelings too.