There is Nothing like a Dame A novel by Bronwen Welsh Copyright© 2017 & 2018 Bronwen Welsh A sequel to 'The Might-Have-Been Girl' and 'All the World's a Stage'

Chapter 39   Opening Night.

“Mary, what's wrong?” I said standing up. I had little doubt as to the cause of her distress.

“Martin dumped me!” she cried as she threw herself into my arms, sobs shaking her body.

'Great timing Martin,' I thought to myself as I held Mary. I couldn't help glancing at the clock; it was twenty minutes to 'curtain up'.

Eventually, when her sobs subsided, I held her away from me to look at her and asked: “What happened?”

“He said I was too immature and he wanted a real woman. I think he meant you,” she moaned.

“Fat chance of that. I'm happily married and if he mistakes stage kisses for the real thing then he's a fool,” I said angrily. I'm normally even-tempered, but Martin's actions had me fired up. Then I changed my tone to a more soothing one.

“Mary, you are too good for him. He's just a little boy in a candy store, going from one girl to another. A real man wouldn't behave like that.”

“But how can I go onstage seeing him there?” she wailed.

“That's what professional actors and actresses do,” I replied. “I'm going to have to go onstage now and pretend to love him when I feel like slapping his face. But don't worry, he's not getting away with this. Now I want you to do something for me; go and see the makeup girl and get yourself ready to go onstage. If you see Martin, just ignore him. Will you do that for me?”

Mary nodded. It was touching to see the trust she had in me. I felt almost like her mother, despite being only a few years older than her. I already knew that Martin lived for his times strutting on the stage and the worst thing in his eyes would be for it to be taken away. I could have reported him to Stephen, but I had another idea.

After Mary left the room, I glanced at the clock once more. I had just enough time as I picked up my phone and dialled a number. When it was answered I had a good chat, which was only terminated when a voice came over the loudspeaker in the corner of the dressing room: “Overture and beginners please.”

“It looks like you have to go,” said the voice in my ear, laughing. “They can't start without you.”

Standing in the wings, ready to go onstage, I reached out and took Mary's hand to give it a squeeze. She looked much better now with her makeup repaired and also her confidence in me. The curtains parted and we watched Gareth as 'King Arthur' come on stage.

I previously mentioned how Sue said I seemed very calm before going onstage. This was not strictly true, at least not tonight. This was Opening Night and I was still a little unsure about my singing, especially after listening to Sue's pure soprano voice. I couldn't help wondering if people in the audience would think as I did when I first met her, that she should be playing 'Guinevere', not me. Sue had reassured me, and it was too late now; in a few minutes I would find out what the audience thought. They would applaud of course, indeed they were applauding Gareth at that moment, but would it be genuine applause or because they were being polite? I wasn't used to feeling this way before going onstage.

Then it was my cue and together with my ladies-in-waiting, I walked onstage and actually received applause before I had opened my mouth. Oh dear, that was doing nothing to boost my confidence, it just increased the pressure. It was only a few minutes after I appeared that I sang my first song 'The Simple Joys of Maidenhood'. I did my best and when I finished, there came the applause, and it was genuine! Mentally I gave a sigh of relief. After that, the performance was a breeze, to start with at least. I even enjoyed singing the other songs and receiving applause.

As 'Queen Guinevere', I had 'Arthur' as a husband and 'Lancelot' as a lover, which meant that during the course of the show I had to kiss both of them. Gareth, as 'Arthur' was the perfect gentleman, we kissed with mouths closed as you'd expect, but to my surprise and shock, during my last kiss with Martin as 'Lancelot', he pushed his tongue inside my mouth. He must have seen the look in my eyes but he probably misinterpreted it. I kept my cool and carried on with the scene, but in my mind I was seething even as I realised he had played right into my hands.

After the show, I entered his dressing room without knocking. He had taken off his costume and was in his underpants.

“Harriet!” he gasped. “So you couldn't keep away, but it's too risky here.”

I laughed, but it was a mirthless laugh: “Just what did you think you were doing onstage, tonight?” I said coolly.

“Onstage?” he said, making out he didn't know what I was talking about.

“You know what I mean, the tongue,” I said, without raising my voice.

“Oh that! I thought you'd like it,” Martin said starting to smirk.

“As it happens I didn't. Because you are an amateur (I placed great emphasis on the word turning it into an insult) not a professional I'm going to give you a warning. If you do that again, I might accidentally bite your tongue. It will be by accident of course, but the pain will be just as real. Do we understand each other?”

Martin had recovered from the shock and started to bluster: “You wouldn't dare! If I couldn't perform, the show would have to be cancelled.”

I was ready for that: “Only if we couldn't find a replacement for you, but if we could, and that replacement happened to be a professional actor who has performed the rôle in the West End, well you wouldn't be missed would you?”

The smile had gone from Martin's face and he had turned pale: “You couldn't! You wouldn't!” he spluttered.

“Are you willing to take that risk? I'm a professional actress; I know people. And another thing, leave the girls in the cast alone. If your philandering ruins the show, believe me, you'll never get another part when word gets around.”

Martin looked at me. He could tell I wasn't joking: “It was just a bit of fun,” he mumbled.

“For you maybe, but not for the people you hurt. Now if we understand each other, we can carry on as before. You're a good actor and it would be a shame to see you go. Capiche?”

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“Good. And another thing; Mary deserves an apology for what you did to her. A real man would do that.”

And with that, I turned and left his dressing room. Martin wasn't a bad person, he was just a bit full of himself. Mary later told me that he had apologised for the way he had treated her. He had offered to make it up to her by buying her dinner but she sensibly declined. It turned out that she already had a boyfriend, but Martin had turned her head.

When I arrived back at my dressing-room it was to find three rather worried men standing outside.

“We wondered where on earth you had disappeared to,” said Reggie.

“Just something I had to attend to. It's all fixed now. If you boys will give me ten minutes to change, we can go to supper.”

A couple of days later I rang my friend to say that it appeared we wouldn't need him to play Lancelot after all.

“A pity, it would have been fun to play with your group,” he said.

“Our Lancelot has seen the error of his ways, but I couldn't have risked him calling my bluff if I didn't know that I had a real backup to play the part. Thanks again, I owe you one,” I said.

The reviews in the local papers were uniformly excellent. The principals were singled out for mention and as I recall mine was along the lines of; “Harriet Stow of the Imperial Shakespeare Company, who took over the rôle of Queen Guinevere at short notice, gave a beautifully nuanced performance as a woman in love with her husband who nevertheless cannot resist a passionate affair with the handsome Lancelot.” All the principals were praised for their singing, so I could assume that included me too!

I was pleased with the comment since as a professional, anything less than a good performance I would have rated a failure.

The rest of the season went really well. A few things I must mention; Frank insisted on driving me to and from the theatre for every evening performance. At his suggestion, he was appointed one of the Front-of-House team and acted as program seller or usher at various performances

“Don't you get tired of seeing the same show over and over?” I said.

“No more than you do performing it, which I suspect is not at all,” he replied. “Actually, it's quite interesting to see the minor variations in the performance and the audience reactions.”

My sister Emma and her husband David were present at the second Saturday evening perfomance. The children were old enough now for them to be left overnight in the care of a trusted friend. Since it was close to their wedding anniversary, and as a 'thank you' for the care they were taking of Stella, I paid for their tickets and also a night at the 'Rose and Crown' hotel.

After the performance Emma, David, Frank and I had a light supper. I was keen to hear what Emma and David thought of the perfomance and was pleased that they were very impressed.

“I never expected an amateur company to be so good. Even the scenery and lighting were 'top-notch',” said David.

“I keep thinking back to your first professional performance as 'Margaret' in 'Dear Brutus' with 'Apollo',” said Emma. “It's not so long ago and you were good then, but now you are superb.”

Inevitably my face lit up. I've never been able to take compliments in my stride.

“I've been so lucky. At Stratford in particular, I'm learning from working with some of the best performers in the world,” I said.

At one performance Elspeth was present. I didn't know that until she knocked on my dressing-room door after the performance.

“Hello Elspeth, you're looking good,” I said after we hugged. It was true, she was blooming.

“That's largely due to you. I can't tell you what a strain I was under before you took over 'Guinevere'. I couldn't bear to let the company down, but I honestly didn't know how I'd manage the season. You're doing a great job of course, and to be honest I didn't know that you could sing so well.”

“Well, I told them I'm an actress who sings rather than a singer who acts,” I said. “But they took me on in spite of that, and Sue has been a great help in coaching me.”

Before the season ended, I asked Stephen and Sue if I could see them both together but in private. I told them that I was really enjoying performing in 'Camelot', but I wanted their honest opinion if I was good enough to audition for a West End musical yet?”

Stephen looked at Sue to answer first. “I would say that you might start with a supporting rôle. That's not to say that you couldn't take the lead at some stage, but in the same way that you started out acting, this would make it more comfortable for you.”

“That's my thoughts exactly. I know I've still got some way to go. Julie Andrews has nothing to fear from me,” I said smiling.

“You might be the next generation of musical stars,” said Stephen.

All too soon it was the final perfomance. We had some of the local dignitaries in the theatre, including the mayor and his wife, and there wasn't an empty seat in the house. At the final curtain, Stephen came onstage and thanked everyone, singling me out to my embarrasment, for stepping in at short notice.

“This is the first time we have had a professional actor perform with us and I hope we get another opportunity to repeat the experience, especially if it happens to be Miss Harriet Stow,” he said, and there was a burst of cheering. I bowed and hoped that my makeup covered my blushes.

I should mention that Martin had been a perfect gentleman for the rest of the season and at the 'drinks and nibbles' following the final performance, I actually kissed him on the cheek and told him how well he had performed.

“Thank you, Harriet, for everything; it's been a pleasure performing with you,” he said quietly. “You were right, I was behaving like an ass. Well, I've learned my lesson.” He hesitated, then said: “Did you really have someone else lined up to replace me?”

I laughed: “Oh yes, I wasn't bluffing, but I'm really glad it wasn't necessary.”

One final thing, I mentioned before that a video recording had been made of the preview performance, and the following Saturday afternoon, we all gathered together once more to view it on a large screen in the theatre.

Everyone really enjoyed seeing themselves and clapped the songs in particular. Sue was sitting next to me and when her song 'Follow Me' concluded, I gently nudged her and whispered: “What did I tell you? Magic!” She grasped my hand and squeezed it. She seemed quite emotional and I thought that she might reconsider performing if something suitable came along.

I made my final farewell to the company but asked Stephen to let me know when their next production was staged as I would love to come along to a performance if I possibly could.

One final, final thing which Reggie insists I include. A week later, I sent a cheque to Basil Fox at Warwick, refunding the money they had paid me for performing with them. In the note accompanying it, I wrote that I had obtained so much valuable experience that I felt it was only fair that I should donate my performance fee back to the Society.

In due course I received a very nice letter co-signed by Basil and Stephen thanking me for my generosity. I really felt it was a fair exchange – my acting for the experience they gave me.

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.

Author's note: To anyone who has only seen the film version of 'Camelot', I would recommend seeing a stage performance if you get a chance, since there are significant differences. One is that despite the film running for nearly three hours, 'Nimue' does not appear and her song 'Follow me' is sung by a children's choir off-screen much later in the film. However, you will find it in the original Broadway cast recording of 1960 on Youtube, interestingly sung by Mary Sue Berry, the understudy and vocal coach, since the cast member was unwell when the recording was made.