Curtain up – Prologue

My name is Harriet Stow and I am an actress. I know some people insist on using the term 'actor' for either gender, but words are my stock in trade and must, in my humble opinion be clear and unambiguous; therefore I repeat – I am an actress.
This is the third volume of my memoirs. In the first one, titled “The Might-Have-Been Girl” I gave an account of how by accident I came to perform on the professional stage and through good fortune made it my profession. In the second, “All the World's a Stage”, I recorded how I developed into a woman and furthered my career. I respectfully suggest that any reader who has not read them will, by doing so, find the following record much easier to understand. You will note that I have carefully avoided 'spoilers' in what I have written. Now, without further ado, I will continue my story.

Chapter 1   The 'Big Apple'

“There is nothing like a daaaame,” I warbled cheerily, stretching out the last word as I sang along with the radio. My hands were deep in the soap suds in the sink as I did the washing up in our flat in York. To say I actually enjoyed housework is to invite ridicule from most housewives who might find the time to read this. I'm sure most of them would say 'She only enjoys it because it's a novelty. I'd change places with her in a heartbeat and be on the red carpet in a glamorous gown at premieres, or up on a stage acting, while she does my housework!' Now that I can understand because there was still some novelty in being Mrs Harriet Staunton at home, even if I was still Miss Harriet Stow when I was at work, acting.

“...a girly, womanly, female, feminine daaaame!” my voice rose to a crescendo as the song came to an end. The sudden silence that followed the end of the song was broken by one pair of hands clapping. I spun around.

“Reggie! I didn't hear you come in.” Reggie, my husband, had been out in the garage tinkering as men love to do. In this case it was with 'Bluebird', my car, which had developed a bit of a cough. I was used to it being fixed by my flatmate Dale, but he was many miles to the south in Stratford-upon-Avon, and I wasn't sure that poor Bluebird would make it back to where he could administer T.LC.
In case that paragraph raises some eyebrows, I should explain that while I was acting in Stratford I shared a flat with Dale who was a wizard mechanic. He happened to have a partner called Frank so my relationship with Dale was that of a good friend and perfectly acceptable to Reggie. In fact, he was happier that I was sharing with Dale than living on my own while I was there.

“You know you're a really good singer. Have you ever thought of auditioning for musicals?” said Reggie. I blushed, a bad habit I've never been able to resolve.

“Now you're pulling my leg, Reggie. There's a world of difference between singing to the radio and doing it on stage where people are paying good money to see and hear you perform. No, I'd better stick with my 'day job' and leave singing to those who can do it properly,” I replied.

I should explain for those who haven't read my first two volumes of memoirs, that I am a serious dramatic actress, specialising in Shakespeare and other playwrights of his era and following centuries. Some people seemed to think that I do this tolerably well and as a result, I often perform with the Imperial Shakespeare Company based in Stratford, as well as some other notable organisations.

“Did you find out what's wrong with poor Bluebird?” I asked, neatly changing the subject.

“As a matter of fact, I did. One of the spark plug leads was loose and it wasn't firing all the time, hence the cough,” he said triumphantly. That definitely deserved a kiss as I'd had visions of having to pay someone to solve the problem for me.

When our lips finally separated, which took some time, I said “You're sure that's all that was wrong?”

“Never surer. She's purring like a kitten now,” was the reply.

“Well that deserves a reward. What would you like?”

The look in his eye said it all. “Reginald Staunton, you're a wicked man!” I exclaimed in mock outrage. “I thought maybe a nice roast dinner because that's what's in the oven at present. Anyway, I'm up to my elbows in soap suds right now, so maybe later.”

Reggie laughed. “What's a few soap suds among friends?” he said as he drew me to him, and we locked lips once more. It was thrilling how quickly the feel of my body against his aroused him, and when he took my hand and led me to the bedroom, there was no reluctance on my part; anyway, the roast still had a good forty-five minutes to cook!

Married life was still a novelty; after all, we'd only been back from our honeymoon a few weeks, and what a honeymoon it had been. After our wedding, we had driven down to Manchester for one night before flying to New York the following day. I won't go into details about our wedding night – some things are best kept private; just the one word 'fabulous' is sufficient.

I quickly discovered that there is all the difference in the world between giving yourself body and soul to a man you love deeply, and having intimacy with a man who is attractive and a friend. Reggie did not ask me about any other relationships I might have had while he was married to Sophie. If he had, then I would have answered him truthfully and told him about Richard Jenkins, but the fact that he hadn't asked, led me to assume that he preferred to leave the past in the past.

On the flight to the 'Big Apple' I slept most of the way, for fairly obvious reasons and when we landed, we took a taxi to our hotel which was just off Broadway, a most suitable location for an actress to stay. Reggie had already booked tickets for four shows and given me the option of seeing some more if I wished. However, I didn't want to spend the whole time in theatres in a city with so much to see. We decided to go sightseeing in the mornings and afternoons and then see shows in the evening. As for the nights – well they made a perfect end to the day! It was a very busy holiday!

Reggie had never been to New York, and my first visit had been very brief, so we did a lot of the conventional touristy things like the Empire State Building observation deck, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Battery Park, the Circle Line boat trip, movie location tours; I could go on and on. Even if we'd had a month there we wouldn't have seen it all.

Then there was the shopping! Most stores still had their Christmas decorations on display, and I certainly couldn't go home without visiting Macy's and Bloomingdale’s among the more famous ones. On New Year's Eve, we stood with the crowds in Central Park to watch the fireworks. It was very chilly and snow began to fall as the night sky lit up. I shivered, despite my thick coat. Reggie put his arm around me and I snuggled up to him. Married life was good!

One place I didn’t think it appropriate to visit was ‘Ground Zero’ where the Twin Towers had stood prior to the 9/11 attack. I knew that it had become something of a tourist attraction, but it struck me as insensitive since it was clear to me that two years on, the city was still quite raw from the disaster. Then something happened to change that.

Reggie had told Mum in confidence where we were going for our honeymoon (all he’d told me was to bring my passport). Two days after we flew to New York, Mum happened to meet a friend, Mary, from her church and told her where we had gone. Mary’s niece had died in one of the towers. She had hesitated, then asked Mum if she thought I would be willing to leave flowers and a card at Ground Zero for her, as being a pensioner she couldn’t afford to go herself. This request was relayed to me via Emma and of course I agreed to do it. The hotel told me where to find the nearest florist, and the next day after purchasing a bouquet of flowers and a card, Reggie and I took a taxi to the site.

The taxi driver saw the flowers and when we told him our destination he asked if it was for a relative.

“No, it’s for the niece of a friend of my mother’s,” I replied. “She came from England, and had only been working in one of the towers for a month.”

“That’s too bad,” he replied. “There were people from all around the world in those buildings, even Muslims. It just don’t make sense.”

The scale of the disaster was almost overwhelming. We’d seen pictures of course, but the sheer size of the site could only be appreciated by being there. Another thing that we had not anticipated was that the temporary safely fence that surrounded it had been turned into a memorial, covered with flowers, pictures, cards and poems.

On the card I had purchased I had written as requested:

'In loving memory of Heather, a native of Bridchester, England. Beloved daughter of Josie and Jack, loved niece of Mary. Always remembered. Rest in peace.'

I attached the card to the flowers and used some ribbon to tie the flowers to a free space on the fencing. Then I took a picture so that Mary could see what we had done in her name. We both stood there for a few minutes in silence trying to come to terms with what we were witnessing. Snow had fallen and the white blanket had softened the starkness of the scene before us, but it’s something I’ll never forget.

I kept in touch with Mum while I was away. She hadn't looked well during the lead-up to Christmas and our wedding, but assured me she was just a bit tired from everything that had been going on. When I rang her the following day, she assured me that she was fine. I told her about Ground Zero and how we had left the flowers and card and she promised to let Mary know. To confirm that she wasn't just saying she was well in order not to spoil our honeymoon, I checked with my sister Emma, and she said that Mum seemed quite well.

“She's been back to her doctor for more tests. He said the cancer didn't seem to have spread any further at present. If anything she looks better than she did recently, but that might have been because of Christmas, the McDonalds arriving and your wedding. I think it's been rather tiring for her, although she wouldn't have missed any of it for worlds,” said Emma.

I have to admit that no-one stages musicals quite like the Americans. Of course most of the famous ones were actually written by them and they have that special pizzazz that you just don't find elsewhere.

Reggie had managed to get tickets for the opening night of a new production of “South Pacific”, one of my favourite musicals. I originally had a VHS cassette of the film which I later replaced with a DVD, but I was really looking forward to seeing it on stage. I had read the Pulitzer prize-winning book 'Tales of the South Pacific' by James A Michener, on which it is based. It is an altogether much darker work, relating his experiences during the Second World War. While the stage musical and film contains many of the characters from the book, it is with a much lighter touch and the war is very much in the background.

We had seats in the front row of the Dress Circle and this was a 'black tie' occasion, so in anticipation, I had brought along a favourite dark red full-length gown, and Reggie had packed his dinner suit. I must say he looked very handsome and he assured me that I was the most beautiful woman present. We made a great 'mutual admiration' team!

We were standing in the bar enjoying a glass of champagne before the performance started when a familiar voice said “Harriet Stow as I live and breathe!”

I spun around. It was Duncan Morgan, the CEO of the Imperial Shakespeare Company.

“There's no need to ask what you're doing here,” he said. “It seems you can't keep away from theatres even when you're not part of the cast. Incidentally, I must congratulate you on your marriage. Will you introduce me to the lucky man?”

“Oh yes; Mr Morgan, this is my husband Reginald Staunton. Reggie, this is Mr Duncan Morgan, my boss at the ISC.”

The two men shook hands. “You're a lucky man, Reginald,” said Mr Morgan. “Your wife's not only beautiful, she's a fine actress, but then I don't need to tell you that.”

“I'm very well aware of it, sir,” said Reggie. A gold star for saying the right thing!

As we were chatting, Duncan Morgan said “Actually, this meeting is most serendipitous. Tonight I happen to be sharing a box with someone I'd like you to meet, Harriet. It could be to your advantage. Would you come out to the bar at the first Interval?”

Just then the warning bells started to ring and we had to take our seats.

“What do you think that's about?” asked Reggie.

“It sounds like a possible job,” I replied. “I'm sorry, Reggie, this was supposed to be a complete break from work.”

“It's not a problem,” he replied. “If he wants to get together to talk business, go along with it.”

Just then the house lights started to dim and the overture started. After a few minutes the curtain rose and we were transported to a beach in the South Pacific. I relaxed and immersed myself in the story I knew so well.

When the curtain came down at the end of the first act, we made our way to the bar again. I looked out for Duncan Morgan and spotted him with an elderly couple. At a guess, they were in their seventies. The man closely resembled Colonel Sanders of KFC fame, right down to the white hair and beard. I wondered if he was doing it deliberately. Beside him was a statuesque lady, presumably his wife. Reggie and I walked over and introduced ourselves to them.

“Miss Stow, Hiram Q Thompson at your service,” said Hiram, taking my hand and raising it to his lips. His hand was soft; he obviously wasn't used to hard manual labour. “May I say it's a great pleasure and privilege to meet you. May I introduce my wife Magnolia?”

In turn, I introduced Reggie to them both and accepted the offer of a glass of champagne.

“I had the great pleasure of seeing you perform in 'Romeo and Juliet' on your last visit to New York; it's a performance which will remain in my memory for a long time,” said Hiram.

His wife cut in: “Hiram shares your passion for Shakespeare, Miss Stow. He has even sponsored a theatrical troupe near our home in the Berkshires, which regularly presents Shakespeare's plays. He does it so that he can see them as they were meant to be seen, on the stage.”

“And that's why, when Duncan said you were here, I insisted on seeing you,” said Hiram. “I have a proposal I would like to put to you, but we don't have time this evening. Would you be free for lunch, possibly tomorrow? We're staying at the Ritz-Carlton hotel.”

I glanced at Reggie and he nodded slightly. “We'd be delighted to accept your invitation, Mr Thompson,” I said.

“Excellent, shall we say twelve o'clock?” he said.

The bells began to ring again, and we said 'au revoir' and returned to our seats.

“What do you think he wants?” said Reggie.

“My guess is that he wants me to perform Juliet again with his theatre group,” I said. “He must have run it past Duncan Morgan and had his agreement before saying anything. From what his wife said, I suspect he is very well off and can afford to pay to get what he wants.”

“So long as he doesn't want you,” said Reggie.

“If you mean what I think you mean, there's no risk of that,” I replied, slightly shocked at the implication. Reggie had never struck me as a jealous person, but perhaps things had changed now we were married. Just then the lights dimmed again which was probably just as well. Nevertheless, it got me thinking; actresses, well some at least, have a risqué reputation. If Hiram Q Thompson thought I was one of them I would quickly set him straight.

Our hotel had computers available for the use of guests, so the next morning I took the opportunity to seek out information about Hiram Q Thompson. The 'Q' stood for 'Quincy', and he had been born in Missouri in 1930, which made him seventy-three years old. He had moved to Texas in his twenties and become involved in the oil industry, and now owned the Lubbock Oil and Gas Company. I puzzled over the name Lubbock for a while and then remembered that it was the birthplace of Buddy Holly the 1950's rock and roll musician and singer. He was only twenty-two when he died in a plane crash, far too young, although he left a large body of work and influenced many other musicians. How much more might he have achieved if he'd been given the time?

Dragging my wandering mind back to the present, I concentrated on Hiram Thompson again. There was no mention of his wealth, but surely someone who owned an oil company must be at least a billionaire? That would explain how he was able to fund his own theatrical company. I made a point of deleting the computer history before logging off, and then returned to our room to get ready for our lunchtime meeting.

We arrived at the Ritz-Carlton a few minutes before twelve. It was our second to last day in New York and we had planned on some more sight-seeing, but Reggie said we could always do that another time.

I wore a grey skirt, a silk blouse over a camisole, stockings and four inch heels. Reggie wore a grey suit. It had snowed overnight and was still very cold, so we both wore the thick woollen coats that we had bought in Macy's. I thought we looked very smart, but it was probably just as well that we took a taxi to the hotel so that I didn't have to navigate snowy sidewalks in my heels.

Entering the hotel, our coats were taken and we were escorted into the restaurant where the Thompsons were waiting for us. Hiram stood up as we entered and greeted us cordially; he was certainly a real gentleman of the old school. I was pleased to see that Magnolia Thompson was wearing a grey woollen dress, stockings and heels, as I was concerned that I might appear over-dressed.

The meal was excellent as you would expect. We made light conversation as we ate. Hiram asked what rôles I had performed recently, and when I mentioned Kate in “The Taming of the Shrew”, he said he wished he'd have known that as it was one of his favourite plays and he would have flown over to England to see it.

“You probably would like to know a little about me,” he said. “Our home is in the Berkshires in Western Massachusetts, about three hours drive from here. I own a little oil company in Texas near a town called Lubbock that you won't have heard of.”

“It was the birthplace of Buddy Holly wasn't it?” I responded. Hiram face broke out in a smile.

“I would have guessed you were too young to remember him,” he said.

“My sister Emma has all his records and I grew up listening to him,” I responded.

He sighed. “He was taken from us far too young. I met him once you know? A clean-cut young man who always wore a suit and tie when he was performing, not like those long-haired characters today. You could even understand the words he was singing.”

It was when we reached coffee that Hiram began to talk about his proposal.

“I've discussed this with Duncan of course and he agreed to me approaching you. As Magnolia told you, I support a troop of actors who perform at a theatre in East Devon, near to our country home. They are good, but I think they would benefit from interacting with someone like yourself who has Shakespeare running through her veins. What I'm proposing is that, when convenient, you come to East Devon as an 'artist in residence' for a couple of months, during which time you would give master classes in acting Shakespeare and also take part in some performances.”

I was shocked. This was far more than I was expecting.

“Mr Thompson, I'll be frank with you. I've never been one for false modesty and you know that Mr Morgan wouldn't have hired me if I wasn't a reasonably competent actress, but shouldn't you be looking to engage someone older, with more experience than me?”

Hiram smiled. “I would have said you are more than competent, young lady, I've seen you perform after all. The average age of my acting troop is around twenty-five. I've engaged older actors previously, but Magnolia suggested that maybe someone of your age would interact better with my group, as you would mutually relate to each other. I think she is right.”

I paused. “It's a wonderful offer Mr Thompson and I think I would learn as much as I taught, but I do have a problem at present. Unfortunately my mother is sick and I can't leave England again for an extended period.”

His face fell. “Maybe when she is feeling better?” he responded.

“I'm sorry to say that won't happen. She has cancer and her time is limited,” I replied, and to my embarrassment a tear rolled down my cheek.

“My dear, I'm so sorry to hear that,” said Magnolia, and she reached out to pat my hand.

“As am I,” said Hiram. “Maybe we can put it on the back burner as something for another time. If you let me know the name of your agent, I'll write him detailing my proposal, and we'll leave it at that for now.”

“His name is Richard Green. I'll get you his contact details if you like.”

He laughed. “Oh I know Richard Green very well. You being on his books makes me think even more highly of you; he's particular in whom he represents,” said Hiram.

I'm fairly sure I blushed. “I was fortunate that Dame Emily Good persuaded him to represent me when I was just starting out. I'm sure he wouldn't have taken me on if I'd approached him myself.”

“Dame Emily? You move in exalted circles, young lady,” said Hiram.

“I'm sorry, you must have thought I was boasting,” I said. “It was just good fortune that I happened to meet her and she came to a play I was performing in.”

Hiram laughed. “You've got every right to boast about knowing Dame Emily. If I was a friend of hers I'd be shouting it from the rooftops,” he said, putting me at my ease again.

With the conclusion of lunch, we made our farewells and promised to stay in touch.

“If you get a chance, come and visit us in the Berkshires,” said Magnolia. “I'd love for you to stay with us, and you could see Hiram's theatre; it's his pride and joy.”

The following evening, we were driven to the John F. Kennedy airport for our flight back to England. It had been a short holiday and a very enjoyable one, but now it was time to face the real world again.

To be continued.

I would like to thank Louise Ann, Julia Phillips and Karen Lockhart for their advice and proofreading of this story, which is much appreciated.

Chapter 2   A married woman

Our flight left New York at 10pm and we arrived back in Manchester at about 10am the following morning. A night flight is really convenient; we slept for most of the time and were woken up with a light breakfast about ninety minutes before landing. Although the flight lasted about seven hours, there was also the five hour time zone difference to add, and after the usual ninety minutes or so retrieving our bags and clearing Customs, we went to the long-term car park and picked up Reggie's car.

We drove straight to our flat in York, only stopping off at the shops in Heslington where we lived, near to the university, to buy some groceries. Emma and David had invited us to a 'welcome home' dinner the following evening, and the guest list included Reggie's parents as well as Mum. Naturally enough, I telephoned her after we had settled back into the flat. She suggested that we stay overnight with her after the dinner and this invitation was gratefully accepted. We didn't fancy driving back to York late at night, especially if we'd had a few drinks.

The following day we did some housework in the morning. It's funny how places acquire a musty smell when they've been closed up for a week or more, but after opening all the windows and the vigorous application of the vacuum cleaner, the flat soon smelled as fresh as a daisy. In the afternoon we showered and packed a change of clothes suitable for a dinner party, a favourite dress for me and a grey suit for Reggie. We set off for Bridchester, and just over an hour later pulled up outside Mum's house where we were greeted with hugs and kisses.

“I won't ask you about your trip,” she said. “I'm sure the others will want to hear all about it and you won't want to repeat yourselves.” That was Mum – always thinking of others.

I had been very anxious to see her, despite only having been away for a week. Emma had been right, Mum was actually looking better than she had when I had last seen her on the day of the wedding. We took our suitcases up to my bedroom and changed.

The 'dinner' was more of a tea, starting at five o'clock so that the children could participate. We had bought everyone small gifts from New York of course; baseball caps, mugs, keychains, snow globes and models of the Statue of Liberty. The children were delighted with them, as were the adults. We also agreed that we would get together another time to let them see the pictures that we had taken. I remembered how 'slide nights' used to be notorious as the ultimate in a boring evening. We had taken pictures with new digital camera which we had bought ourselves as a wedding present. These could be shown on the television, much easier than setting up a projector and screen, but I determined that we would not bore the viewers and would select only the best images to try and leave them wanting more.

Something that had surprised me about Emma was how comfortably she had slipped into the rôle of a housewife and mother. After all, when I had first stood on the professional stage, she had been an established actress with the Apollo Players in Bridchester for some years and the theatre was her life. My only acting experience up until then was a few school plays. Now I was the established actress, and Emma seemed to be permanently retired. I just couldn't imagine myself doing anything else, but she seemed very happy with her life, looking after her husband David and the four children, Penny, who was David's daughter from his first marriage, Elizabeth and Thomas, the two children they'd had together, and Stella, Reggie's daughter who had been living with them since her mother Sophie had died.

The question of what to do about Stella was still unresolved. She was perfectly happy and content living as part of her adopted family, and it really wasn't practical for her to live with Reggie and me at that time, particularly as Reggie was still at university in York, and I would be spending a lot of time in Stratford when I was acting. It would have meant her being looked after by other people a lot of the time, a very unsatisfactory arrangement. Living with Emma, David and the other children, she had a stable home environment.

We were both very fond of her and intended to see her as often as we could. Of course we were paying for her living expenses as Emma and David were surviving on one income and I suspected it was not a very large one, him being a Director in a regional theatre. Everyone knows that those theatres barely scrape by financially, and it was only due to the support of the local community that they were still in business. It was fortunate that David had been employed part-time to teach drama at one of the local schools and I knew that when Apollo was in the middle of a new production he was very busy indeed fitting in both occupations. Nevertheless they were a very happy family.

After the children went to bed, the adults stayed until about ten o'clock talking, mainly about our trip to New York. We told them about everything except our encounters with Hiram Thompson. I had sworn Reggie to secrecy about that, just in case Hiram changed his mind about the offer.

One good thing was that I was now very well accepted by Reggie's parents. Perhaps the only silver lining of the cloud of his first marriage was them realising that despite my past, I was a much better wife for him than Sophie had been, especially since he actually loved me. As for Stella, they loved her too; in fact everyone did, she was such a sweet little girl.

Eventually, I could see that Mum was getting tired and I suggested that we call it a night. After farewells and an agreement that we would get together soon to show off our pictures of New York, we drove back to Mum's house, 'and so to bed', as Samuel Pepys so often wrote at the end of a day's record.

We drove back to York the following morning, after promising to come back and see Mum soon. She said that she was feeling quite well, and I wondered how long that would last, but could only hope for the best. She had decided upon palliative care rather than more intrusive treatment, and we had to go along with her decision.

Two days after we returned to York I had a phone call from Richard, my agent. He sounded very excited.

“I understand you spoke to Hiram Thompson while you were in New York. I know him quite well and I've just had some documents from his secretary with the offer of a contract for you to be an 'artist-in-residence' at his theatre in East Devon. Are you sitting down?”

I wasn't, so I complied with his request and told him to go on.

“You won't believe what he's offering you for two months' work!”

He was right, I did find it hard to believe, and I was glad I was sitting down. I felt I was on a good salary at the Imperial Shakespeare Company, but this offer was for about the same amount as I earned in a year. Perhaps I should have been excited, but I actually found it unnerving. Richard was surprised by my silence, and asked what was wrong.

“To be honest, I'm worried, Richard,” I replied. “Mr Thompson seems a nice man, and perhaps, since he's a billionaire, it doesn't seem so much money to him, but he's also a businessman and he'll want value for his money. I'm not sure if I can deliver, after all, I'm still fairly early in my career.”

It was now Richard's turn to be silent. “Well, he wouldn't have asked you if he didn't think you could deliver,” he said. That was a predicable response I suppose.

“There's another problem,” I said. “My mother is very unwell and I don't want to leave England at present. I did tell Mr Thompson that and he seemed willing to allow me to take a rain check on the offer.”

“So I can at least reply that you are interested in the offer and will make a decision on when you can take it up?”

“Yes, you can do that,” I replied. I decided to talk to Mr Morgan at ISC, and also Dame Emily and ask their advice before I took this any further. On the one hand, if I was successful, it would be a great entry on my CV, but if it didn't work out to Mr Thompson's satisfaction, it would have a negative effect on my career. Maybe it was better if I just stuck to acting.

I spoke to Reggie about it. I was still officially on my honeymoon, and not due back in Stratford until the following Monday, the same day that Reggie's spring term at York university started, so he suggested that I phone Mr Morgan's office and try to see him while we were both still on holiday. We could drive down for the day, so I did as he suggested and rang Mr Morgan's secretary, Penny Lane. When I first met her she was rather reserved with me, almost frosty, and I put this down to so many people asking her if her parents were Beatles' fans (they were), so I made a point of never mentioning it until eventually when our relationship became quite cordial she mentioned it herself.

“If one more person starts humming that wretched song in my presence, I swear I'll throw something at them,” she said and actually laughed, so I joined in with the laughter.

I was able to get an appointment a couple of days later, so then I gave some thought about what to wear. I don't suggest that everyone who lives in Stratford-upon-Avon goes to the theatre, but it's probably a higher percentage than in many other towns of the same size, and it seemed that my face was becoming known, judging by the number of people who gave me that half-smile of recognition when I was out shopping. I would respond with a similar smile and a slight nod of the head as if to say 'Yes it's me'. Thank goodness the typical British reserve prevented the vast majority from asking for a picture or an autograph. Those that did, I always treated cordially, after all most of them were paying my wages.

This increasing chance of being recognised meant that I felt the need to always look smart, not least because I felt I was representing the ISC. I always preferred wearing a skirt or dress with stockings and heels in winter, and bare legs and sandals in summer. Perhaps this was a result of not being able to wear such clothes when I was young. It was very cold, so my final decision was my woollen tartan skirt and white cotton blouse over a full silk slip, another favourite item of clothing. Black opaque tights and four inch black heels completed the outfit, and I wore the thick coat that I bought in New York. Reggie told me that I looked great, which was all that I needed to know.

When we arrived in Stratford and parked at the theatre, Reggie said he would have a coffee in a local cafe while I went to see Mr Morgan. I walked into the main entrance acknowledging several people I knew, and thanking them for their good wishes on my wedding. A number of the staff had clubbed together and bought us a really nice dinner set as a wedding gift, and I had already posted a nice 'thank you' card which I hoped would now be on the noticeboard in the staff cafeteria.

Arriving at Penny's office I greeted her as usual “Good afternoon Miss Lane.”

She replied “Good afternoon Miss Stow”. It was a running joke to greet each other so formally. I should point out that while I was now legally Mrs Staunton, like most theatre professionals, I would continue using my original name which was the one by which I was known.

“Mr Morgan has someone with him, but he shouldn't be long. Please take a seat,” she said. “Did you go away?”

“Yes, to New York. It's an amazing place. I hope to play Broadway some day.”

I sat down and picked up a recent issue of 'The Stage' and flipped through the pages. I was reminded once again that I really should subscribe to it myself, to keep up with what was going on in my professional world.

I was half-way through an interesting article when Mr Morgan's door opened and he walked out with one of the theatrical knights of the realm who gave me a nod although I'm sure he didn't know who I was. After he and Mr Morgan shook hands and he departed, I was beckoned into the inner sanctum.

As it was an informal meeting, Duncan gestured towards a comfortable armchair and took a seat on one facing it. It was very comfortable, but just in time I remembered not to cross my legs, he was my boss after all.

“Congratulations on your wedding, Harriet. I hope you are enjoying married life?”

“Yes, I am, very much,” I replied. “But I am looking forward to returning to Stratford to start rehearsals next week.”

“Ah yes, you're in “The Two Gentlemen of Verona”, aren't you?”

“Yes, I've been asked to play Julia,” I replied. This was true. I had now reached the stage in the Company where in some cases I was actually asked to play parts without having to audition.

“I'm sure you'll perform it as well as you always do,” he said. “Now why have you come to see me?”

“It's about Mr Hiram Q Thompson,” I replied. “After you introduced me in New York, he invited Reggie and I to lunch and asked me if I'd be interested in being an 'artist in residence' for a couple of months at his theatre in Massachusetts. I expect you know about that?”

“Yes indeed, He asked me if I could suggest a young actor who might be suitable for the position. That's why it was so serendipitous that we met in the theatre. I had thought of you of course, but didn't know I was going to actually see you. Have you received a formal offer yet?”

“Yes I have, and it's very generous,” I replied. “There are two problems; my mother is very unwell and her time is limited, so I want to stay in England at present. Also, I'm not sure if I'm qualified to teach anyone while I'm still learning so much myself. In some ways it would be like directing and I've never done that.”

“I'm sorry to hear about your mother. Does Hiram know about that?”

“Yes, I told him during the lunch and he said there was no hurry to take up the position and I could do so at a more suitable time. He was being very tactful.”

Duncan Morgan sat back in his chair. “I have a suggestion for you. Chris Johnson is directing 'Two Gentlemen', you know him don't you?”

“Oh yes, he directed me in 'Twelfth Night',” I replied. “We got on very well.”

“Excellent. I'll have a word with Gwyneth, our Artistic Director, and if she and Chris are in agreement, we'll employ you as Assistant Director for the play. This will mean more work for you of course, but it means you can sit with Chris and see how he directs. I think you will learn a lot from him, plus earn a little more money.”

I was thrilled. “Thank you so much Mr Morgan, that is a great idea. I don't think I'd be doing enough to warrant extra income, but thank you all the same.”

He laughed. “I think you'll find that Chris will work you quite hard, so you'll earn your extra pay.”

Things moved quicker than I expected. As we drove back to York I told Reggie about my interview and Duncan Morgan's suggestion. It was only a short time later than my mobile phone rang and it was Duncan ringing to say that he had consulted Gwyneth Soames, the Artistic Director, and also Chris Johnson, and as a result I would now become the Assistant Director for “The Two Gentlemen of Verona”. I felt stunned but excited too.

“Thank you very much, Mr Morgan. I'll see you next week,” I said before hanging up.

“Well done,” said Reggie. “This will be another string to your bow.”

I was thinking that even though I'd already memorised my lines as Julia, I had better study the whole play.

As we returned to York with Reggie driving, I must have been unusually quiet, because he reached over and squeezed my hand.

“What's up darling? I may be only a man but even I can tell that something's bothering you.”

I smiled at him. “You're not 'only a man', you're my man and I adore you. I suppose what's bothering me is that we will soon be apart for many days at a time. I know we agreed that's how it would be, but now it's getting closer, I'm worried about it. Perhaps after all I should have retired and become a housewife and a mother to Stella.”

“We agreed to it because it's the right thing to do. You know that you would never be happy if you left the stage. Anyway, we will be catching up every weekend and that will make it even more special.”

I looked at him and squeezed his hand back. “I know you're right, you always are.”

He laughed. “Now don't make me out to be a genius because I'm far from that.”

That night our love-making was even more intense than usual. I held onto him tightly as if I was afraid that he would be taken away from me.

The following day the McDonalds arrived back from their trip around Britain. They only had a week left before they flew back to Australia, so we arranged for another family get-together, this time at Mum's house.

I made a point of getting to speak to Aunt Peggy privately as I had a big favour to ask of her.

“Aunt Peggy, you know about Mum's medical problems and how her time is limited. I've talked to Emma about this and we wonder if it would it be possible for you to come over to England again when...” I choked up and nearly started to cry and Aunt Peggy kindly stepped in.

“When you all need me? Of course I will,” she said gently.

“I know you'll have to discuss this with Uncle Ron of course,” I hurried on, but she was a step ahead of me.

“We've already discussed it and we've put some money aside for the air fare.”

“Emma and I have spoken about that and we want to defray your costs, so we are happy to pay for the air fare and your expenses while you are here,” I said, recovering my composure. “I hope you'll let us do that. I know I'm just an actress not a brain surgeon, but they do pay me quite well, rather more than I'm worth to be honest. I’ve spoken to Reggie about it and he's in complete agreement with me.”

Aunt Peggy smiled. “Elizabeth is a lucky woman to have two daughters like you.”

I managed a smile in return. “We've always thought of it as the other way round. So is that a 'yes'?”

“Very well, if it will make you happy.”

I sighed with relief, and Aunt Peggy reached out and gave me a hug.

“I've already had a word with Elizabeth, so she knows I'm coming back,” she said. “I won't tell her about the air fare if you don't want me to.”

I smiled. “It will be our secret,” I said.

The rest of the week was spent in visiting the family, taking them out for meals, the cinema, some shopping and just generally spending time together. One evening we showed everyone a selection of our pictures taken in New York. Flora and Ron Junior were especially impressed and said that they would go there one day. Flora had already confided to me that she wanted to be an actress too. I explained to her that it entailed a lot of hard work and wasn't all red carpets and glamorous gowns.

“I've been very fortunate so far, Flora, but there's always a chance that the work will dry up. If it does, I don't have anything really to fall back on, so you might find me being a waitress one day. That's why I save money for the lean times,” I said.

She smiled. “Aunty Elizabeth showed me the scrap books she's kept of your career. I've read your reviews and I don't think there's much chance of you becoming a waitress,” she said.

“Well I certainly hope not, but actresses are always advised to have another career to fall back on,” I said. “I really should have taken my own advice.”

One day, Flora and I had a 'girls' day out' shopping in York. I told her that I wanted to buy a new dress, which was true, and we had a fabulous time together, discussing various styles until we both decided on the perfect dress for me. Flora was a very feminine young girl and just loved clothes. I did ask Aunt Penny if it was alright for me to buy Flora something, and she agreed, so long as it wasn't more than twenty pounds. We found a lovely cotton skirt, white with coloured flowers and she instantly fell in love with it. Fortunately, as so often happens nowadays it was £19.99, so we came in just under the limit!

We stopped for lunch and were chatting away when she broached the question I was afraid she would ask.

“Harriet, Aunty Elizabeth doesn't look very well, is she very ill?”

I knew that this was not the time to lie. “Yes Flora, she is, very ill.”

“Is she going to die?” Her eyes were wide and I could see tears brimming. I reached over the table and took her hand. I felt like crying myself.

“Flora, you are growing up now so you deserve the truth. Did you wonder why your Mum suddenly decided to bring you over here? That's because we don't know how much longer Aunty Elizabeth's got, but she's being very brave about it so we must be brave too. It was her dearest wish to see your Mum and Dad, you and young Ron. Do you think your brother knows?”

“I don't think so,” she said and her voice was wavering.

“Then perhaps it's best of you leave it to your mum to tell him. She'll know when it's the right time. Boys don't like anyone seeing them cry, and that's what he might do.”

A few tears were rolling down Flora's cheeks now. “Boys don't have it easy do they?”

I smiled at her feeling that the worst was over. “No they don't, so we have to be gentle with them,” I said.

Reggie and I had to get ready for the following week. Reggie was going back to university on the Monday, and I was bound for Stratford. While I was rehearsing, I would be driving back to York on Friday evening and then back to Stratford early Monday morning. Once the performances started and I would be busy on the Saturday with a matinée plus the evening performance, Reggie said he would drive down on Friday afternoon and stay until Monday morning. It was the best we could do to spend as much time as possible with each other.

The day that the McDonalds were leaving, Reggie and I drove up to Brid. I knew that the parting with Mum would not be easy, but they managed it very well. There were tears of course, but there always are when families part. We drove them to Manchester and had a final cup of coffee after they checked in.

“Will you come to visit us in Australia?” said Flora.

“I certainly hope so. I didn't spend nearly enough time there last time and Reggie hasn't been there at all. Meantime, we'll keep in touch with you by email and send pictures.”

“I wish we could have seen you on stage, but maybe you'll perform again in Australia,” said Aunt Peggy.

“I certainly hope so,” I replied.

I had managed to get some time alone with her and told her of my conversation with Flora.

“I'll tell young Ron when we're back in Australia,” she said.

We watched them go through the doors to the Departure Lounge, and then we drove back to York.

I was up at five o'clock Monday morning for an early breakfast and then the drive to Stratford. Reggie insisted on getting up too, although I told him there was no real need. While I was having a shower and getting dressed, he kindly cooked me bacon and eggs for breakfast and then made a Thermos flask of coffee and some sandwiches for me to have a break half-way to Stratford. I was quite happy to pull in to one of the Services and use their toilet facilities but I drew a line at paying for over-priced junk food.

At about six-thirty I was ready to leave and we exchanged a last lingering kiss before I put my suitcase into 'Bluebird' and took to the road. I made good time and despite a thirty-minute stop, was entering the outskirts of Stratford by about nine o'clock in plenty of time for the rehearsal start at 10am.

As I drove I started to think about the day ahead in the theatre, and realised that I was experiencing an unusual emotion for me; I was nervous. It wasn't about the acting, although I know some actors insist that if they aren't nervous they won't put on a good performance, and I'm sure for them that is right. I have always totally immersed myself in the character, and thanks to my God-given memory, I've never worried about forgetting my lines. No, what was worrying me that particular day was the thought of being announced as Assistant Director. How would other members of the cast, especially the older ones react to it? I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I very nearly ran into the back of another car stopped at traffic lights. I jammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt just in time, giving both myself and the other driver the fright of our lives. After that I drove very cautiously to the theatre car park, my heart still pounding as I arrived.

I sat for a few minutes while my heart-rate returned to something approaching normality, and then got out, carrying my script plus a notebook with me. It was then that I noticed a young woman about my age, standing looking at the theatre building with a lost look on her face.

“Can I help you?” I asked. She turned to me with the look of a drowning sailor just thrown a lifeline.

“Oh could you? I'm one of the cast for 'The Two Gentlemen of Verona' and I'm not sure which door I should use to get to the stage.”

“That's easy, I'm in the cast too; we use the Stage Door. Come on, I'll show you where it is.”

“My names Viola Edwards, and I'm playing 'Silvia', she said. “My friends call me 'Vi'.”

“Well there's a co-incidence, I've played Viola in 'Twelfth Night' at this very theatre,” I responded. “By the way, I'm Harriet Stow, pleased to meet you.”

Viola stopped in her tracks, starring at me with a stunned look on her face. “I thought I recognised you. I saw you here in 'Romeo and Juliet', you were awesome.”

I had learned to accept compliments gracefully, so I replied “Thank you. It helps when you are performing with an amazing cast.”

“Oh yes, Richard Jenkins, what a dreamboat. You really looked like you two were in love.”

I smiled. “Richard's a good friend, nothing more. The rest is acting.”

“I know, but you made it look so real. I cried at the end even though I knew what was coming. Sorry, I'm rambling on, what part are you playing today?”

“'Julia',” I replied. “We'll have some scenes together.”

“That will be amazing,” was her gushing response.

Fortunately we had now reached the Stage Door. As we opened it and stepped inside, I turned to an elderly man sitting inside the little office.

“Hello 'Hoppy', Happy New Year,” I said.

“Hello Miss Stow, same to you,” was his reply.

“Hoppy, this is Viola Edwards, she's a cast member. Can you tick her off please?”

“Nice to meet you Miss Edwards,” he said with a smile.

“Thank you, err 'Hoppy',” she replied uncertainly.

As we walked down the corridor to the stage, Viola said “Hoppy?”

“His surname is Cassidy, and there was a cowboy film character in the nineteen fifties called 'Hopalong Cassidy, hence 'Hoppy'. I don't think anyone knows his real first name. He won't forget yours though and he'll always call you Miss Edwards, but you must call him 'Hoppy', alright?”

“My goodness, I'm learning so much and I haven't even reached the stage yet,” she said, as we turned a corner and entered the auditorium. I suddenly realised that I wasn't nervous any more.

To be continued

I would like to thank Louise Ann, Julia Phillips and Karen Lockhart, for their advice and proofreading of this story, which is much appreciated.

Chapter 3   In at the deep end

As we approached the stage I saw that many of the cast were already there, standing in front of a semi-circle of chairs. Because I had been invited to perform my rôle without an audition, I hadn't caught up on the identity of the other cast members. It turned out that I knew some, but not all of them. Closely followed by Viola, who seemed more nervous than ever, I walked up the steps onto the stage. The conversation ceased as they watched me approach, so I broke it by saying “Hello everyone, I'm Harriet Stow for those who don't know me and I'm playing 'Julia'. This is Vi Edwards and she's playing 'Sylvia'.”

“Hi there Harriet, good to see you,” said Mike Jacobs, one of the actors I knew from Stratford. “You too, Vi. I'm Mike, and I'm playing 'Valentine'. Is this your first time at Stratford?”

Vi blushed. Well, Mike was very handsome and a heart-breaker, perhaps I should warn her. “Yes, it is,” she responded. “I'm really looking forward to it.”

'Perhaps even more than you were a minute ago,' I thought to myself.

A couple of stragglers arrived and it seemed we had a full complement. I'm sure Hoppy notified the stage manager who in turn spoke to our director Chris Johnson. He wouldn't want to make an appearance until everyone arrived or he'd have to repeat himself. Now he appeared, walking out of the wings.

“Good morning everyone and to those who are here for the first time, welcome to Stratford. I'm Chris Johnson, the Director of 'Two Gentlemen'. Some of you know each other, but some are new, so I suggest we all introduce ourselves with a brief C.V.”

He went on to describe how he had gained a place at RADA, initially with a view to becoming a professional actor but he and the staff came to realise that his greatest strengths lay in directing, and that was how he eventually graduated.

“Harriet, perhaps you'd like to go next?”

“My name is Harriet Stow, and unlike most of you, I am not a graduate of a drama school. I commenced my professional career by accident when I was working as Assistant Stage Manager at a theatre in Bridchester, and one of the cast came down with appendicitis. I happened to know her part and was co-opted at short notice.” I noticed a few raised eyebrows. “When the production moved to London, I continued in the rôle and was later fortunate in obtaining a part here in Stratford. I've been performing here for a few years; one rôle was Viola in 'Twelfth Night' which Chris directed.”

I stopped at this point, afraid I was going on rather too long. Chris smiled.

“What Harriet was too modest to tell you was that she has been asked to be a resident artist later in the year at an American theatre specialising in Shakespeare. In order to help her in this new venture, she has been appointed Assistant Director for this production.”

I'm sure that came as quite a surprise to the rest of the cast as there was faint murmuring amongst them.

The rest of the cast then introduced themselves, and when it came to Viola's turn she said “My name's Viola Edwards,” she paused and blushing said, “My parents are Shakespeare enthusiasts in case you hadn't guessed.” She was rewarded by a laugh from the assembled cast. She went on “I'm a RADA graduate and I've played a few parts in provincial theatres, but this is my first time in a Shakespeare play apart from school productions and also my first time here in Stratford. I'm really looking forward to working and learning from you all.”

'Very diplomatic,' I thought, which I hope doesn't sound unkind because it wasn't meant that way. The worst thing is young actors who arrive at a prestigious company and think they know it all; they don't last long.

Each cast member was given a smattering of applause as they gave their resumé.

When everyone had spoken, Chris said: “Right. We are going to start with a read through of the play. Anyone who doesn't fully know their part is welcome to read from the script, but I expect everyone to be 'off book' by the middle of next week at the latest.”

Just as he finished speaking a mobile phone began to ring. Now it goes without saying that every mobile phone must be switched off at a rehearsal and everyone looked at each other in shock. It was even more shocking when Chris Johnson himself fished in his pocket and pulled out the offending phone. He pressed the button and said “One moment please. Sorry, everyone, this is an important call.” Then turning to me he said “Harriet, would you mind taking over for me please?” With that he walked off the stage into the wings. Talk about being thrown in at the deep end!

I took a deep breath. “Right everyone, we'll start the read-through. Let's approach it as though it was a live radio production of the play. I'd like everyone to act their part and there will be no stops if anyone fluffs their lines, but bonus points if any glitches are smoothed over. Those who need to open your scripts please and we'll begin.” I paused while scripts were opened and then started as though I was introducing a radio broadcast. “The Imperial Shakespeare Company presents 'The Two Gentlemen of Verona' by William Shakespeare. Act one. The scene – Verona, an open place; enter Valentine and Proteus.”

I looked at Mike and nodded. He commenced his part and I was pleased to see that both he and Greg Oldham who played Proteus, knew their parts. Greg was the son of Reg, a cast member in the Hamlet production where I'd played Ophelia, and I'd met him briefly before. I was pleased to see they played well against each other and I suspected they had rehearsed the scene privately.

When it came to the appropriate point, I said “Enter Speed, Valentine's page.”

The rest of the scene went well, and then it was my turn as Julia in Scene Two, with Lucetta, my servant. She was played by Liza Taylor, a young actress that I had never met before. We had no previous experience of acting with each other, but I thought it went quite well. This scene which consists of a dialogue between Julia and Lucetta, includes Julia's famous speech after she has torn up a letter from Proteus:

'Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!
O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey
And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
Look, here is writ 'kind Julia.' Unkind Julia! ...'

When we started the third scene which would complete the first act, I couldn't help wondering where Chris had disappeared to. Surely his telephone call couldn't have lasted this long?

The answer became apparent when the scene finished, and Chris walked out of the wings and onto the stage.

“Well done everyone,” he said. “I listened to you in the wings so that I didn't disturb you, but for the first run through it went very well.” He glanced at his watch. “We'll do the second act and then break for lunch. Would you introduce it please Harriet?”

I nodded and said “Act Two. Milan. The Duke's palace. Enter Valentine and Speed.” With that, the next act began.

I should mention that this play is unique in that while Shakespeare often mentions dogs, here one actually appears on-stage, in the form of Crab, Launce's not very obedient animal. We didn't have the dog at this read through, but Alan Hayman who played Launce was partly chosen because he had a dog, Phideaux, which he swore would behave himself on-stage and not lift his leg on the scenery!

With the conclusion of Act Two, Chris said. “Well done, ladies and gentlemen. We'll take a break for lunch now. Please be back in an hour and we'll read through the other three acts.”

As everyone trooped off the stage, Chris came across to me and said “I'm sorry to throw you in at the deep end like that Harriet, but you did very well as I knew you would. Scene Two was excellent and young Viola did well too. I think playing against you gave her confidence. You may not have realised it but you are becoming something of a mentor to younger actors.

“By the way, you might think that phone call was a set-up but I assure you it was genuine. My father-in-law is in hospital and just had an operation. That was my wife ringing to say that he had come through it alright. There was nothing I could do of course, except lend a sympathetic ear which is what she wanted, that's why I made an exception and took the call.”

I nodded. “I understand completely,” I said. “Sometimes other things have to take priority over a play rehearsal.”

“Would you like to come down to the café for lunch? We can discuss the play,” he said.

Together we walked down to the Riverside Café, staying inside since the weather was still very chilly, and the last thing an actor wants is a cold. Over sandwiches and coffee, Chris described how he was going to approach the production. It was very interesting to 'get inside a director's head' as it were, and I determined to make some notes as soon as I had a chance.

After lunch, we went through the final three acts which we completed by mid-afternoon. It was too late to do anything else, so Chris said we would 'call it a day' and he would see us all at nine o'clock the following morning.

I drove to the flat and took my suitcase inside. There was a note from Dale on the kitchen bench informing me that there was a casserole in the refrigerator and if I would like to warm it up, he'd be back about six. What a pleasant surprise that was! I didn't have to find something for tea after all.

The flat was looking very tidy as it always did. I checked what else we might need in the way of food, put the casserole in the oven on a low heat and then phoned Reggie to report on the day's proceedings. Like me, he suspected that Chris's phone call had been set up, but whether that was the case or not, I could at least say that I had seemed to acquit myself quite well.

Dale arrived, as promised at six o'clock and I had set the table ready for our evening meal. We greeted each other with the usual affectionate peck on the cheek. After he had a quick face and hands wash, we sat down at the table and served ourselves the casserole which tasted great. I congratulated him on his cooking.

“I didn't think you'd fancy cooking after a hard day's work,” he said. “Incidentally, you're looking well; married life seems to agree with you.”

I laughed. “Perhaps you'll try it yourself sometime.”

He suddenly looked rather serious and I thought I had put my foot in it.

“I'm sorry Dale, have I said something I shouldn't have?”

He smiled. “No, it's not that, in fact, it's quite the reverse. There's something I wanted to talk to you about, but I wanted to wait until I saw you. You know that Frank finished his course last year?”

“Yes, I understand he did very well. Wasn't he top of the class?”

“Yes he was. Well, now he's been looking for a job near here so that we can be together. He's applied for a job in Warwick and I think there's a good chance he'll get it.”

“I'm guessing that you've told your parents about your relationship with Frank?”

“Yes I have. Well, I told Mum first. To be honest I don't think she was really surprised. When I was younger she used to ask me why a nice boy like me didn't have a girlfriend and I used to say that I didn't have time. Eventually she stopped asking.”

“And she was alright about you and Frank?”

“She said so long as I was happy that's all she wanted for me. Then I had to tell Dad, and I really didn't know how he'd react. I think Mum had had a word with him because he said 'Well he seems a nice enough lad and you're old enough to know what you're doing'.”

“So your parents have met Frank?” I asked.

“We ran into them one Saturday while we were shopping in Stratford. I introduced Frank as a friend who had come to Stratford to see you perform in a play. That part was true anyway. We just exchanged a few pleasantries and that was it.”

“If Frank gets that job, I presume you'd like to get a flat together?”

Dale looked embarrassed. “I'm in a bit of a quandary. I don't want to leave you in the lurch.”

I had to be magnanimous. “Don't worry about me, Dale. It's been wonderful sharing a flat with you, in fact I couldn't think of anyone better, but all good things come to an end. Have you started looking for a place yet?”

“I've looked at a few, but after living in this place everything I've seen would be a real come-down.”

I had a flash of inspiration, although I confess it wasn't totally altruistic as I didn't want Dale to leave any sooner that he had to.

“Has Frank got much furniture?”

Dale laughed. “All the furniture in the house where he's living at present belongs to the owner. All Frank owns is a desk and chair.”

“I've got a suggestion, but if you don't agree with it, that's fine. Do you think Frank would like to move in with us while you look for something you'll be happy with? That would take the pressure off you to sign up for somewhere you don't really want to be.”

Dale beamed. “That's a great idea, Harriet, you're a star!”

“Just being practical,” I replied. “Why don't you ring Frank and run it past him?”

After tea, Dale rang Frank and after chatting for a few minutes handed his phone to me.

Frank sounded ecstatic. “Harriet, thank you so much for offering to let me stay at your flat. I couldn't tell the guy who owns this house that I was going to leave in case Dale and I found ourselves out on the street, but now I can! I have to give him two weeks' notice, and then I could move to Stratford. Would that be alright with you?”

“That would be fine Frank. Dale told me about you applying for a job in Warwick, good luck with that.”

Frank laughed. “I just told Dale, I got the job and they want me to start in three weeks so that all works out perfectly.”

“That's wonderful news, Frank. I'm rehearsing 'The Two Gentlemen of Verona' at present, so I'll be home in the evenings until the season starts.”

“Dale told me that you're Assistant Director too, congratulations!”

I laughed. “I'm not sure about that, I can see it will involve quite a bit of extra work.”

“You'll do it well, I know you will,” he replied, and after a few more remarks, I handed the phone back to Dale. Dear Frank, he was definitely the honorary chairman of my fan club!

To be continued.

I would like to thank Louise Ann and Julia Phillips for their advice and proofreading of this story, which is much appreciated.

Chapter 4   The Assistant Director

The following day I arrived early at the theatre. I had my notebook in hand, ready to record everything that I‘d learned from working with Chris. This was a unique opportunity, and I was determined to make the most of it. Chris was early too.

“Good morning Harriet. Today I'm going to start blocking out the scenes and I'll be obliged if you'll take notes for me.”

“Certainly Chris,” I replied. “I know what 'blocking' is of course but can you tell me where the expression first came from?”

“Well it's generally thought to derive from the practice of nineteenth century directors to use a model of each set and use wooden blocks to represent the actors. W.S.Gilbert was known to use this method for the Savoy Operas.”

I laughed. “Well that's interesting. When I was quite young, one of my favourite toys was a model theatre with cut-out characters which slotted into wooden blocks. My older sister and I spent many happy hours performing plays we made up ourselves, moving the characters around the stage, so really we were blocking too. I wonder if that's how we both came to be actresses?”

Chris smiled. “It sounds like a strong possibility,” he replied.

For the rest of the week, I worked hard, not only rehearsing but also taking copious notes as Chris rehearsed the play. My notebook was rapidly filling with diagrams of the character blocking and other points that I picked up.

On Friday afternoon, as soon as the rehearsal finished, I loaded up 'Bluebird' and drove to York. By the time I‘d arrived, Reggie was home and insisted that we go out to a local café for tea. There was no objection from me!

We had only been apart for a week, but the old saying about 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' is very true, and after we returned from the café we were not long out of bed!

The next morning, we drove to Bridchester where we would be staying overnight with Mum. I was anxious to see how she was looking, although there was no visible difference from when I last saw her only a week previously. She insisted that she still felt fine which was good to hear. We all went to Emma and David's house to see the children and Reggie called over to see his parents for a while.

On Sunday, we took Mum to church, then went to a restaurant for lunch, and later in the afternoon returned to York. I was up at five o'clock the following morning to drive back to Stratford for more rehearsals, while Reggie went to the university. This routine continued while the rehearsals were in progress.

On Tuesday, Chris had news for me. “I've been asked to go to London to meet the directors of the Globe Theatre. We are thinking about mounting a co-production,” he said. “I know it's short notice but I'd like you to take over the rehearsals for the next two days while I'm away.”

That was a shock. I'd been in charge for about an hour during the script reading, but this was much more responsibility.

“I would have had to find a way around it if I didn't have confidence in you, but I'm sure that you can cope for two days. I'll give you a list of suggested scenes to rehearse and let you take it from there.”

I confess that Chris's remarks made me a little better. After all, how much damage could I cause in two days? Chris announced my temporary elevation to Acting Director at the end of the day's rehearsal, and said he was sure we could all cope without him. I did my best to look confident as I stood beside him.

The following morning I was early at the theatre ready to take charge. As it happened, Wednesday was the first day that everyone was expected to be 'off book' – no more scripts. That was one thing at least that I didn't have to worry about. However, it wasn't long before there was a matter for concern. I have decided not to name the actor concerned as he has now established an illustrious career, so I will call him 'Joe'. We began to rehearse a scene in which Joe had a large part and it quickly became apparent that he didn't fully know his lines. I had to prompt him a couple of times when he had a 'dry'. I also noticed that at one point where he had a break from speaking that he was supressing a yawn. I didn't think that he was bored, it struck me that he was actually very tired.

The end of the scene coincided with a break, so before he could disappear, I walked up to Joe and quietly said that I would like a word with him. He looked miserable, but agreed, and we walked to the little office that I was sharing with Chris.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered as soon as we entered the room. “I know I'm not on top of my game at present but I promise I'll try harder.”

“Joe, I know that you're better than this. Am I right in thinking that you are very tired?”

He looked like he was going to cry. He hesitated and then it all spilled out like a torrent.

“You're right of course. Did you know that Deb my wife just had twins? They're our first children and she's not really coping, in fact she's exhausted, we both are. We're lucky if we get two hours uninterrupted sleep each night.”

I silently cursed my lack of empathy. Naturally I'd heard about the twins but not having children myself it hadn't occurred to me that it would lead to such an upheaval in their household. Since then of course I've heard that many young mothers, especially first-time ones are chronically sleep-deprived.

“I'm sorry Joe, I should have realised. Is there no-one who can stay with you and give Deb a hand. What about her mother?”

“Her mother would love to but she's living in America now. She married and went over there to live but it didn't work out and now she's on her own. She just can't afford to come back at short notice.”

“There must be something we can do,” I said. “Let me talk to Penny Lane about it. I can't promise anything but when I explain the situation she may have a solution.”

Joe brightened up for a moment but then his face fell. “Won't it have to wait until Chris comes back?” he said.

“I don't see why. He's left me in charge and that means I'm acting in his place. You go off and have a coffee and I'll ring Penny.”

Joe looked a bit brighter when he left the office and as I picked up the phone and called Penny Lane, the CEO's secretary, I prayed that I hadn't given him false hope.

Penny and I got on very well, especially when she first realised that I wasn't going to make any remark about her name (and yes, her parents were Beatles fans).

I explained the situation to her and asked if there was any way we could fund Joe's mother-in-law to return urgently to England. She was most sympathetic. “Yes we do have a contingency fund for special cases. I'll have to talk to Duncan about it of course, and he's in a meeting at present, but I'll get back to you as soon as I can.”

When I returned to the auditorium, I chose a scene where Joe did not appear. Instead, he sat in the stalls and studied his part. It was about an hour later that Penny appeared at the doorway to the stalls and beckoned to me. I quietly walked over to her, not wanting to disturb the actors on stage.

“I spoke to Duncan and he says we can fund the air fare for Joe's mother-in-law. Can you ask Joe to come back to my office and we'll set the wheels in motion.”

I beamed at her. “Thank you so much Penny, I'll leave it in your capable hands.” I looked up to where Joe was staring intently at us and beckoned him down.

“Good news Joe,” I whispered. “Go along with Miss Lane and she'll organise your mother-in-law's flight. I'll see you again in the morning.”

For the second time Joe looked like he was going to cry. “Thank you so much Harriet, and thank you Miss Lane.”

With that they disappeared through the doorway and I returned to concentrating on what was happening on-stage, feeling very relieved that a crisis had been averted.

The following morning I was at the theatre early as usual, wanting to check through the scenes we were going to rehearse before the cast arrived. Joe arrived only a few minutes later.

“I wanted to get here early to thank you for what you did yesterday. Deb was thrilled and hopes she can thank you in person soon; she reckons you're our guardian angel.”

“Thank you Joe, but the guardian angel rôle belongs to your mother-in-law. Have you heard yet when she will be arriving?”

“Yes. I don't know if Miss Lane pulled some strings, but Carol will be here at the weekend. Deb couldn't stop crying when she heard, she was so relieved.” He paused. “You know, it's a funny thing but I think the twins felt the change in us because they slept right through to five o'clock. That's the best night's sleep we've had since they came home from hospital.”

“I can't speak from experience of course, but I think babies are a lot smarter than we think, and they respond to the atmosphere around them. Once your mother-in-law arrives I think you'll find that things are even better.”

“I'm really counting on it,” said Joe. “I really need this job, and when you asked to speak to me I was worried that you'd be putting me on a final notice.”

I smiled. “I never had any thought of that. I could see something was wrong and I'm only sorry that I wasn't smart enough to figure out what it was. By the way, what are the twins names?”

Joe smiled “Charlotte and Denise,” he replied.

“Very pretty names,” I responded. “I hope everything works out well when your mother-in-law arrives.”

The following morning, Chris arrived back from London, and before the cast arrived, he appeared in the auditorium where I was busy studying the script and my notes.

“Hi Harriet, how did things go?” he greeted me.

“Well, I think. I suppose you heard about the problem with Joe?”

“Yes I did,” he replied and I couldn't tell from his expression what he thought of my actions.

“If I exceeded my authority, I'm sorry, but I felt that something needed to be done in a hurry.”

He smiled. “You used your initiative and that's exactly what a director needs to do. Naming no names, there are some directors who don't seem to realise that actors have a life off stage and how it can impact on what happens when they are on stage. It was probably just as well that you were in charge as some men find it easier to discuss a personal problem with a woman rather than with a man. I'm sure we'll soon see a difference in Joe's performances.”

He was right. Even before Deb's mum arrived, there was a distinct improvement in Joe's acting. I think a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders, and Deb's too of course. A couple of weeks later, I was invited to tea to meet Deb and her mum. The twins were behaving like little angels and there was an air of calm in the house. Thank goodness for mothers! Both women were so grateful for my minor rôle in solving the problem that I felt rather embarrassed, but I hope I was graceful in accepting their thanks.

Two weeks later, Dale drove to London and returned with Frank and 'all his worldly goods'. These consisted of his Ikea desk, partly dismantled to fit in the Jaguar, an office chair, two suitcases of clothes, three plastic garment bags, one of which contained a suit and the others the women's gowns Frank wore when he went out as Frances. In addition, there were three boxes, two of which were labelled 'books', and one 'CDs and odds and ends'.

I had room in my bookcase and offered it to Frank for his books and CDs if he so desired. The rest of his effects fitted into Dale's room. Even though it had been a tight squeeze to fit everything into the Jaguar, Frank had been thoughtful enough to get Dale to stop at a florist and after kissing me on the cheek, he handed me a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

“Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here Harriet,” he said.

“You're very welcome, Frank. You can both stay as long as you like, but if you find somewhere you really like, I quite understand that you will want to take it,” I replied.

Dale had taught Frank how to drive, and he practised when he was in Stratford, but living in London with its frequent public transport, a car would have been an expensive extravagance. However, living in the country and having to drive from Stratford to Warwick for work, at least initially, a car was now justified. Frank knew as much about cars as I did, but fortunately Dale was there to take him car-hunting.

The next day they went off to tour the used-car dealers and see if they could find something suitable. When I arrived home from rehearsal that evening, they were both looking very pleased with themselves.

“I found Frank a really nice Honda Civic. It's like yours only a later model. I've been very impressed with how well yours runs, and after we took it for a test drive Frank decided that was the car for him.”

“I'm glad Dale was there,” said Frank. “He played the salesman like a violin. We even started to walk away, saying there were other cars we wanted to see, and he came running after us and said he'd take another hundred pounds off the price if we signed for it there and then.”

I had to laugh at that. “He did exactly the same thing when I bought 'Bluebird',” I said. “I hope they didn't talk you into arranging the insurance?”

“If I'd been on my own I probably would have gone along with it, but Dale told me I could organise my own insurance at a better rate. I've done that and I'll pick up the car tomorrow.”

“Well, that deserves a celebration. How about we go out to dinner, my treat?” I said, and that's what we did.

Rehearsals continued and so did the weekend routine. The last weekend before the 'Two Gentlemen' season started Reggie was playing football, so I went to Brid on my own. Mum's birthday was coming up soon and when I asked her what she would like me to get her, she had her answer already prepared.

“I don't need a 'thing' darling as I have everything I need, but what I would like to do is see you perform in 'Two Gentlemen'. Do you think you could arrange that?”

I nearly broke down. The unspoken message was that Mum wanted to see me perform for one last time. I think she saw the look on my face because she said “Come here” and started to hug me. The tears really did start to flow then.

When she released me she saw them and she chided me gently. “I'm not dead yet, darling, or anything like it!”

I managed a smile through my tears. “Of course you're not, I'm just being silly. Do you think Emma will drive you down? I'll make sure you get your favourite seats in the stalls.”

“I'll speak to her,” said Mum. “I'm sure she'll be just as keen as me to see you on-stage again.”

“Do you think she's jealous of me Mum? After all, she was the actress before I ever stepped on a stage.”

“I think she's very happy doing what she's doing, being a housewife and a mother, which is an honourable profession too,” said Mum.

“I agree, Mum; I didn't mean it to sound as though I thought she was throwing her life away. Look, I'll speak to Emma, you shouldn't have to do it.”

Mum smiled. “Alright, now how about a cup of tea?” she said.

Later that day I rang Emma about Mum's birthday request. “Would it be possible for you to bring her down to Stratford, see the play and stay overnight in a hotel with her?” I said.

There was a pause before Emma answered. I suddenly realised the cause and not for the first time cursed my thoughtlessness. “Emma, if you are able to donate your time, I am happy to cover all the costs involved, the theatre tickets, hotel and meals and your fuel costs.”

“There's no need to do that,” she responded a little tartly, and I could tell from her tone that I had upset her. There's a saying 'When you're in a hole, stop digging' and I felt that I was in danger of doing just that. Without meaning to I had pointed out the difference in our financial situations and that was unforgivable.

“Emma, we're sisters and we need to be honest with each other,” I said gently. “I really didn't mean to offend you. I have been very fortunate in my career so far, and I'm earning more money than I ever expected to, but I really owe it all to you. I still remember when you suggested the job at Apollo Players which started everything off for me, and I am still in your debt for that. It would mean a lot to Mum if she could come to Stratford and only you can make that happen for her. The least I can do is not let you be out of pocket doing it. Please will you say yes?”

Emma laughed. “Of course I'll do it; I know how much it means to her, and to you of course.”

“You, David and the children mean a lot to her too. In all this I've forgotten to ask if David's prepared to baby-sit them all for a day and night? Perhaps you'd better ask him.”

“He's in between plays at present and he isn't working at the school every day, so I'm sure something can be arranged,” she replied.

To be continued.

Many thanks to Louise Ann and Julia Phillips for checking the text for typos and errors to be corrected before posting this chapter. I am very grateful for their help.

Chapter 5   Aunt Peggy arrives

The season of 'Two Gentlemen' started. The house was nearly full each night and the critics were kind. The play doesn't have a major star in the way 'Hamlet' has, it's more of an ensemble piece. All the main actors got a mention and there were some nice comments about my performance. To my surprise, I received a credit as Assistant Director in the program, and there was mention made of this in the critiques.

When I say the play had no stars, I meant human ones, since Phideaux the dog who 'played' the part of 'Crab', Launce's dog, while he only appeared in one scene, certainly received the biggest applause when Alan led him onstage during the curtain calls. 'Crab' is the only dog that actually appears in a Shakespeare play. He did behave himself very well during his single appearance. I remember reading that 'Lassie', the star of many films and television shows was a male dog called Pal, because male dogs are easier to train. I suppose we girls can't win them all!

Mum had confirmed the date that Emma would drive her down to Stratford. I organised the tickets, ten rows back in the stalls and right in the centre, and I also arranged a hotel room with twin beds for them both. They arrived mid-afternoon and I met them at the hotel and made sure that they were comfortably settled in. Mum looked tired and I felt that there was a definite decline in her health. Fortunately, they were both able to have a rest before the evening performance.

I know some actors who get nervous when they know someone in the audience. I always find that it gives me a special lift, and so it was that evening, knowing that Mum and Emma were right there watching and listening to me.

At the conclusion of the performance we took our bows as usual. The house lights were half raised and I could see Mum and Emma clapping enthusiastically. The curtain fell and rose again, and still they applauded. Suddenly Mum stood up, then Emma, and gradually the whole audience stood and clapped.

One by one the cast took individual bows again as the applause continued. I only had eyes for Mum, seeing her standing there, her face wet with tears, and when it came to my turn, on the spur of the moment I performed a deep curtsey, just to Mum as a gesture of love and respect. For those few seconds it seemed as if there was no-one else present, just us two. She nodded her head in acknowledgment and, I confess, tears were pouring down my face as I realised that this was the last time she would see me perform. The enormity of the occasion overwhelmed me. Three more times the curtain fell and rose again, and it finally stayed down only when the applause began to tail off. A few of the cast looked at me curiously as I walked off the stage, my face still wet from my tears, but they didn't say anything. Perhaps they guessed.

A little later, Mum and Emma came around to the dressing room that I shared with Vi. By now I had composed myself, although I'm sure my red eyes were a giveaway. They waited while I changed and exchanged my stage make-up for some more appropriate for the rest of the evening. Then we all went off the 'Oppos' for supper, and Vi came along too. It was the perfect end to the evening and one I can still replay in my mind all these years later. I half expected that someone would remark about the curtsey but no-one did. It was something special just between Mum and me. The following day, I had lunch with Mum and Emma before they set off for Brid and I had to prepare for the evening performance.

“I'll see you both next Sunday,” I said before I kissed them both goodbye.

After the car disappeared around the corner I stood there for a while staring into space. A tear ran down my cheek. Mum had definitely deteriorated and I wondered if the time was near to call Aunt Peggy and see if she was able to come over to England soon. I decided that the best thing was to ring her and give her an update on Mum and perhaps leave it to her how she would respond, but first I would talk to Emma.

I rang my sister a couple of days later. “Do you think it's time to ring Aunt Peggy and ask her to come over?” I said.

“I think so. She needs some notice to arrange things over there with her family. You saw Mum; she seemed stable for a while but I think she's definitely sinking now.”

“Will you ask her if she'd like Aunt Peggy to come over? We can't just spring it on her and quite frankly I don't know what to say.”

Emma laughed briefly. “I guess it's the job of your older sister. Alright, I'll speak to her.”

She rang me the following day. Mum had made it easy for her by guessing immediately what she wanted to say and agreeing that the time had come to call Aunt Peggy.

“I'll get her a flexible ticket because we don't know how long she might stay,” I said.

I rang Aunt Peggy the next day, allowing for the time difference which I knew was eleven hours later in Victoria where they lived. That meant I could ring at nine o'clock in the evening which coincided with Interval time, and it would be ten o'clock in the morning over there. The moment she heard my voice she said: “Is it time for me to come over?”

“I've discussed it with Emma and we both think it's the right time, but we know you need some notice, so when would be right for you?”

“How about two week's time?” she said. I agreed and said I would organise the ticket for her. “I'm going to make it a flexible one since we don't know how long you might want to stay.” I realised there was something I'd forgotten. “How did young Ron take the news?”

“I was proud of him; he was very brave, but he went to his room, and afterwards his eyes were red. Ron, Flora and I had agreed not to notice.”

I felt my eyes stinging. “Please let me know when the ticket arrives,” I said.

A week later Aunt Peggy rang me. “The ticket's arrived but I thought I'd better ring you as I think there's been a mistake. It's Business Class,” she said.

“That's right,” I replied. “It's such a long trip that we thought the least we could do was make it as comfortable as possible for you.”

“But it must be so expensive,” she replied. “Can you still change it?”

“Only if you insist, but I hope you won't. Emma and I really want to do this for you, so please let us.”

The sigh over the phone was audible. “Very well, but I'm going to feel like the Queen,” she said.

“Don't forget your tiara,” I responded, and she laughed. I really love Aunt Peggy.

Aunt Peggy arrived a week before the season of 'Two Gentlemen' ended. I had chosen a flight that arrived in Manchester on Sunday morning so that I could drive to pick her up and take her to Bridchester. I was up very early as the trip to the airport would take the best part of three hours and I wanted to make sure I was there in plenty of time.

When she appeared out of the Customs Hall I hurried over to give her a big hug.

“How was your flight?” I said.

“It was amazing; luxury all the way. You know that you've ruined Economy Class for me now? I'll just sit there envying the people up the pointy end of the plane.”

“Well I'm really glad. I've never travelled that long on a plane and I couldn't imagine it cramped up all the time, although I know that's how many people do it,” I replied. It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps that wasn't the most diplomatic thing to say since that's how the McDonalds had travelled to England a few months previously, but fortunately Aunt Peggy didn't seem to take offence.

“Tell me about it,” she said and laughed. “How's your mum?” she asked, turning to the most important matter in hand.

“I saw her last weekend and she seemed quite bright. She's really looking forward to seeing you again of course.” Suddenly the enormity of what was happening caught up with me and unbidden tears sprang into my eyes. “Oh Aunt Peggy, I can't imagine life without her, but there's nothing I can do about it.”

She took my hand. “Death is the last great taboo, and yet it comes to us all in the end. The best thing is to do what your mum is doing and face it bravely. That's what she wants from all of us.”

I brushed away the tears. “You're right of course. I'm really only thinking of myself. You must think me a terribly selfish person. I'm afraid there's something about being an actress, standing up there on the stage and having people applaud you which tends to give us a swelled head and think we're the most important people around.”

Aunt Peggy laughed. “Nonsense. You're one of the most down to earth people I know.” Changing the subject, she said. “Now where have you parked the car?”

As soon as we loaded Aunt Peggy's luggage into 'Bluebird', I rang Mum to let her know that we were just about to set off from Manchester, and that I would ring her when we were at York, just over an hour away. Then I handed my phone to Aunt Peggy while I drove out of the airport and worked my way through the traffic, which was quite heavy even on a Sunday.

Aunt Peggy chatted with Mum for about ten minutes before hanging up.

“She just told me that if we keep on talking we'll have nothing left to say when I get there. As if!” She laughed. “She sounded quite cheerful anyway.”

“I'm sure she's really looking forward to seeing you again,” I said.

The trip to Brid was very enjoyable. We chatted about everything under the sun. She told me how well the two Rons and Flora were going. It seemed Flora had her first boyfriend, a shy young lad called John, who lived at a nearby property.

“It's so sweet to see them sitting out on the porch holding hands when they think no-one is looking,” she said.

“She's so pretty, I would have said she'd break boys' hearts, but I think she's too nice to do that,” I said.

“You know she wants to be an actress just like her cousin, don't you?”

I smiled ruefully. “I did try to talk her out of it, or at least point out that she needs a 'proper job' to fall back on. It's a bit difficult to say that when I don't really have one myself.”

“Does your current play have long to run?”

“'Two Gentlemen'? Just one more week and then I'm going to take some time off. It's been quite a while since I had a proper holiday. Later this year they're proposing to have another season of “Romeo and Juliet” with Richard Jenkins playing opposite me again.”

“I understand from Elizabeth that the last season was a sell-out,” said Aunt Peggy.

“Yes it was. Richard's a marvellous actor.”

“I understand his co-star is not so shabby too,” she commented and of course I blushed.

“When you play opposite a really good actor, it lifts your own performance,” I said. I didn't know whether to mention my 'artist in residence' arrangement which was still on hold and decided to say nothing at that stage.

When we reached York, we stopped for a drink and I rang Mum to let her know we were just over an hour away. I didn't want her sitting at the window waiting for a long time. I also ran Reggie to let him know where I was. He was playing football so I left a message.

As I stopped the car outside her house, the front door immediately opened and Mum walked out to greet us. I caught my breath, remembering how she used to almost fly down the path, and now her progress was slow. She was using a stick and it was almost painful to watch. I gave myself a good talking to saying that I must not cry, at least not when she could see me.

The two sisters hugged. It was almost as if they had been apart for years whereas it had only been a few months. I think there were a few tears but that was to be expected. I lifted Aunt Peggy's suitcase out of the boot and followed the sisters up the path. Naturally, they were already talking nineteen to the dozen. Inside, Mum sat us down while she put the kettle on for a cup of tea.

“You're looking remarkably well for a twenty-four-hour flight,” said Mum.

“Well you can blame that on your two daughters,” said Aunt Peggy. “Would you believe they bought me a Business Class ticket? Honestly, now I know how the Queen feels when she flies!”

Mum smiled. “Well, they're good girls and brought up well if I say it myself.”

She served tea and freshly made scones with strawberry jam and cream. She was a great scone-maker and they were delicious as usual. After a brief chat about the flight, Mum turned to me and said “Can you stay for tea Harriet? I've made a casserole.”

Mum's casseroles were equally legendary and that put me on the horns of a dilemma.

“Mum, would you think me very rude if I didn't stay? Reggie's expecting me and it's been nearly a week since we've seen each other.”

“That's alright darling; I know that your married life is a bit unusual at present, with you in Stratford and Reggie in York.”

“It's fine really, we make up for lost time when we're together,” I said, and then saw the look on the two faces and realised what I had said. As they both burst out laughing, I turned crimson of course.

Trying to catch her breath, Aunt Peggy said “It's alright Harriet, we were young once too.” I started to laugh too.

Mum said “It's a big casserole. Why don't I put some in a container for you to take with you? That way you won't have to waste time cooking.” There was a twinkle in her eye as she said that, and I suspect that she winked at Aunt Peggy.

“Thanks, Mum, that would be great. Actually, the play only runs for another week and then I'm taking a bit of time off, so you'll be seeing plenty of me.”

“Oh that will be lovely, darling,” said Mum. “But have you got more work lined up?”

“I'm probably going to play Juliet again later in the year. They are trying to get Richard Jenkins to play Romeo again. We should know this week if it's confirmed.”

After a bit more chatting, I kissed them both goodbye and walked back to 'Bluebird' carrying my precious cargo of casserole. Now that Aunt Peggy was there with Mum I had no concerns about her being looked after. It was a load off everyone's mind.

When I returned to our flat in York, Reggie hadn't arrived back from the football match, so I placed the casserole on the kitchen table and unpacked my suitcase. I was only back for one night, so I re-packed it with different clothes for the last week of the season in Stratford. I was getting used to the gypsy lifestyle although I did miss being with Reggie. Still I only had one more week of the play to go and then I would be back, dividing my time between York and Bridchester. Inevitably that made me think about Mum and it was difficult to avoid the tears starting. She had perked up so much seeing Aunt Peggy but I know it could not last.

By the time Reggie arrived, I had the casserole warming in the oven, the table set, and myself looking presentable.

“Darling, it's so good to see you again,” he said as he came through the door. He took me in his arms and kissed me. “Something smells good.”

I wrinkled up my nose: “Well it's not you Reggie, you smell of mud!” I exclaimed.

He laughed. “Well I did have a shower, but the mud does tend to stick. Perhaps I'd better have another one.”

We enjoyed the night together and as I had rather carelessly said to Mum and Aunt Peggy, 'We made up for lost time'.

The alarm buzzed quietly in my ear at 5.30am and I quietly slipped out of bed, being careful not to wake Reggie. I had my breakfast, showered and dressed before waking Reggie to kiss him goodbye. Then I loaded my suitcase into 'Bluebird' and set out for Stratford again.

One evening during the last week of the season, Vi and I were in our dressing room after the performance. We had removed our stage makeup, changed out of our costumes and were making up our faces when there was a knock on the door and a familiar voice said “May I come in?”

“Of course,” I said, and stood up as Dame Emily entered the room.

“Good evening my dear. I was in Stratford and managed to get a seat this evening. I enjoyed the performance very much,” she said.

She looked enquiringly at Vi and I said: “Dame Emily, this is Viola Edwards.”

Vi looked a bit stunned as Dame Emily said: “You performed Silvia very well, my dear.”

Finally Vi found her voice and said “Thank you very much, Dame Emily.”

“Well I must be getting on; Duncan wants to take me to supper. I'd like to speak to you soon as there's something I wish to discuss with you. I'll be away shooting a film for the next couple of months, but I'll be in touch when I get back.” With that, she left the room.

Vi said, “I could hardly believe that, and she spoke as if you are friends.”

“Yes, I'm very privileged to call Dame Emily a friend,” I said. “But I'll never take that for granted. Knowing her has done great things for my career.”

I wondered what Dame Emily wanted to talk to me about. Perhaps there was another rôle she thought might be suitable for me.

The final performance arrived and was played to a packed house. Afterwards, we had the usual 'drinks and nibbles' in the rehearsal room. I kept off the alcohol, intending to drive to York early the following day, but I stayed and mingled with the other cast members and crew as we always did, thanking everyone for their hard work. Most of them knew that Mum wasn't well, and asked me to convey their good wishes. They knew she wasn't going to recover of course, but it was kind of them and I managed to stop the tears until I was back at the flat.

I made a point of thanking Chris once again for allowing me to be his assistant.

“I've learned so much from you,” I said. “If the opportunity ever occurs again, I'd be very happy to act as your assistant.”

“You've been a real help to me,” Chris replied. “I've never had an actor assist me before but now I've done it once, I'd be happy to do it again. I've got some good news which just arrived and which I was asked to pass on to you. Richard Jenkins has agreed to perform in another season of 'Romeo and Juliet” later in the year and I'll be directing. Apparently, he agreed on the understanding that you would be playing Juliet!”

Inevitably I blushed. “We got on so well last time and I'm sure we'll do so again.”

It did occur to me that I was now a married woman, and I hoped he didn't expect any 'extra-curricular' activities like happened last time.

Dale and Frank were well settled in together and showed no signs of being in a hurry to move, which made me very happy. I knew they would look after the flat well while I was away. If anything, Frank was tidier than me. We had a cup of coffee together, while I told them that I would be driving up to York the following morning and didn't really know how long I would be away. They suggested that I shouldn't have to pay my share of the rent while I was gone, but I insisted that I would continue to do that. I also told them about 'Romeo and Juliet' and Frank was almost as excited as I was about that.

The following morning I was up early for a shower and to pack the clothes I wanted to take with me. By the time I had finished, Dale and Frank had already left for work. I looked around, making sure everything was switched off and put away, and then loaded up 'Bluebird' which Dale had kindly serviced during the week, and headed north. I was very used to the trip from Stratford to York now and arrived at our flat without incident. I unpacked my suitcase and then drove to Bridchester to see Mum. Reggie was at Uni, so I left him a note and also sent a text to let him know that I had arrived.

Mum and Aunt Peggy were pleased to see me. I tried not to look too obviously at Mum to gauge how she was going. She looked tired but otherwise not much different to when I last saw her.

“I'm glad you're here,” said Aunt Peggy. “I do need to get some shopping, and you can keep your mum company while I'm gone.”

I wondered about that remark; had something happened to make Aunt Peggy concerned about leaving Mum on her own? I determined to find out. After she left and I'd made Mum and me a cup of tea, I broached the subject.

“Mum, Aunt Peggy sounded worried about leaving you on your own; has anything happened?”

“Oh, it was just a silly thing. I stood on a stool to try and reach a book and I slipped and fell over. I was just bruised, nothing broken.”

“Did you go to see your doctor?” I asked.

“Yes, Peggy insisted. He checked me over and said I should just rest, which is what I'm doing now,” she said.

“And no more climbing on stools,” I said, and she laughed and agreed with me. Then she changed the subject.

“You'll never guess who telephoned me yesterday, Dame Emily Good! She phoned to see how I was. She told me she saw you perform in 'Two Gentlemen' last week and how well you are going. She also mentioned something else, your invitation to be an 'artist in residence' in America. She obviously thought I knew, so I pretended I did. Why didn't you tell me? Was it because of me being sick? More importantly, when are you taking it up?”

'How did Dame Emily know?' I thought. 'Oh of course, our agent Richard must have mentioned it.'

“I've put it on hold at present, “ I replied. “Mr. Thompson understands. It's not entirely because of your illness, although that was a factor of course. I also wasn't sure that I was experienced enough to do it, even though he thought I was. That's why acting as Assistant Director in 'Two Gentlemen' has been such a bonus for me. I haven't been told exactly what is involved, but I think they expect me to do some acting, especially Shakespearean techniques, but also provide tuition in staging his plays. I feel a lot more confident now.”

To be continued.

Many thanks to Louise Anne and Julia Phillips for their on-going assistance with checking the text for errors of fact and also typos. Both I and I'm sure my readers are very grateful to them.

Chapter 6   On stage again.

The next few weeks I spent a lot of time with Mum. Most weekdays I drove to Brid and spent most of the day with her. Sometimes we chatted and sometimes we just sat in companionable silence. Sometimes she dozed, and I read a book. It was the most time I had spent with her in years. She spoke about her childhood with her parents and Peggy, and also her life with Dad. Theirs was a great love affair and she described how devastated she was when he died suddenly and much too soon.

“But he gave me two beautiful daughters,” she said smiling.

“I've sometimes wondered how you felt about having a son who turned out to be another daughter,” I said. “You treated me so well when you found out, and I'll always be grateful to you for that.”

Mum smiled and reached out to pat my hand. “I suppose in a way it was a surprise, but not entirely. I always thought there was something different about you. Anyway, you are my child, and that can never change.”

She paused for a while and then she said “You know, I'm not afraid of dying. I believe I'll be with your Dad again, and I'm so looking forward to that. The only thing I regret is that I won't be here to see Emma's children grow up, and see what amazing things you do with your career. Dame Emily told me that you're one of the finest young actors she's ever seen and I know that she meant it.”

“Do you remember that time we met her on the London Underground and you were the only one who recognised her?” I said.

“Yes, we talked about that and she was very amused. I thanked her for all she's done for you, and her reply was that each generation has a responsibility to the next one, especially someone as talented as you are.”

I was to remember that in light of what was to follow.

David was busy directing the annual Apollo Players pantomime. This year it was 'Puss in Boots'. In addition, he was also rehearsing a short season of Oscar Wilde's most famous play, “The Importance of Being Earnest”, which was to follow the pantomime.

One Saturday afternoon, Reggie and I took Mum and Aunt Peggy to see the pantomime, while Emma met us at the theatre with all the children, so the party consisted of nine in total. I'm not sure that the youngest members of the family understood what was going on, but they did love the bright lights, the colourful costumes and the music. I suspect they thought it was television on a giant screen! In pantomime, participation by the audience is encouraged, so when Thomas called out “That's a BIG pussycat'” in a very loud voice, the whole audience erupted into laughter.

One unseasonably warm day Mum expressed a desire to see the sea once more. By now she was having trouble walking, so I had hired a wheelchair for her. I rang Emma and asked if she would like to bring the children along and we would meet her at the beach. This she agreed to do, so I put the wheelchair in Bluebird's boot and Mum sat in the front with me while Aunt Peggy sat in the back.

Bridchester stands on the shores of a wide semi-circular bay with fine white sand. When I reached the promenade, I easily spotted Emma's car as there weren't many holiday-makers at that time of the year, and I parked behind it. Aunt Peggy and I helped Mum into the wheelchair. She was wearing a thick coat but we also put a blanket over her. Despite the sun, there was a cool wind blowing and we didn't want to risk her getting a chill. We walked along the esplanade until we came to a ramp leading down onto the sands, and sure enough there was Emma with the children, Penny, Elizabeth, Thomas and Stella. Penny apparently had a day off school because she was supervising them like a little mother. They had brought along their buckets and spades and were busy trying to make sandcastles without a lot of success, but they were greatly enjoying themselves.

We eased the wheelchair down the stone ramp to the beach and stopped where it reached the sand. The children looked up and with cries of 'Grandma!' they came racing up to greet her. Each of them had collected some seashells to give to her and they poured them, together with a quantity of sand into Mum's hands. I looked at the smile on her face and suddenly the thought struck me that this would be the last time we did this, and I nearly lost it. Thank goodness my stage training had taught me to control my emotions.

Mum laughed. “Children are amazing. They don't seem to feel the cold at all,” she said. I took this to mean that she did, so after a few minutes I asked: “Who would like an ice cream?”

Naturally enough the replies were all in the affirmative and since the summer ice cream vendors were nowhere to be seen, it was agreed that we would go to a local café to buy them. I couldn't help feeling that I'd been very devious, but only the adults recognised that!

We had the café to ourselves and I think the proprietor was rather glad of the business since the adults all had a cup of tea in addition to the four ice creams we purchased for the children.

“Will you come to the beach with us again?” said Penny, and Mum promised that she would try. At that point, I did have to go to the 'Ladies' as the emotion was getting too much for me. When I returned, Penny said “Your eyes are red Aunt Harriet. Have you been crying?”

“No, I just got some sand in them,” I replied. Sometimes white lies are justified.

It was a couple of days later, and Mum and I were sitting in her lounge room. Aunt Peggy had gone shopping.

“Are you missing being on the stage?” said Mum suddenly.

I paused. You can't lie to your Mum, they know if you do anyway.

Mum laughed. “I think that answers my question,” she said.

“Mum, there's nowhere else I'd rather be at present,” I replied.

“Thank you my dear, but I have a reason for asking. David wants to come over and ask a favour. You know he's rehearsing “The Importance of Being Earnest” at present?”

Indeed I did, and I was hoping that Mum would be well enough to take her to a performance as the season started in just over a week.

“Oh no, has someone got appendicitis or pneumonia again?” I said, laughing.

“Nothing like that. We'd better wait for him to explain it to you,” said Mum.

Sure enough, the doorbell rang about an hour later and I went to answer it. I couldn't resist teasing David so I said “David! What a surprise. I was just saying to Mum how much I wasn't missing the theatre, and now here you are!”

That stopped him in his tracks and when I saw the way his face fell I immediately felt guilty and said “I was just teasing you David. Come in, sit down and tell me what it's all about.”

I made a cup of tea for him and then he told me the story. One of the young actresses, May West, who was playing the part of Cecily Cardew, had recently gone to Birmingham to audition for a play with the city's major theatrical company. She did so with David's permission since neither of them expected for a moment that she would get the part, it was merely to get auditioning experience with a major company. However, things worked out a little differently; the actress who had been offered the part pulled out and it was given to her understudy. The director then phoned May and asked her to be the understudy instead. That morning she had told David and said she realised she would have to decline the invitation, but he told her to hold off as he had an idea. No prizes for guessing what that idea was!

“Before you say 'why me?' there is no-one else I know who could learn the part quickly and be able to start performing it with only a week's rehearsal,” he said. “I know this will be the third time you've helped us out, and if you say 'no', May will have to stay with us, but she's a really talented young actress and deserves this chance.”

What could I possibly say but 'yes'? I knew as well as David did that I could step in with a week's notice, and what's more I knew that Mum wanted me to do it too. Perhaps this was to be the last time she saw me on the stage after all.

“Very well, I'll do it,” I said. “But I'll just be one of the cast, no special treatment on the posters, and of course the same pay as all the others.”

I knew David was well aware that my usual salary was well above what the Apollo Players could afford, so I didn't want him to worry on that score. I was doing this for him and Mum as well as May.

“Did you happen to bring the script with you?” I asked, suspecting I already knew the answer.

David reached into his pocket and produced the book. It looked a bit dog-eared.

“This is May's copy. I hope you don't mind. All the lines for Cecily are highlighted.”

“Thank you. I'd better learn them tonight. I'm assuming you'd like me at the rehearsal tomorrow?” I said.

As I drove back to York, it occurred to me that there was just one small cloud on the horizon. Now that I was a married woman I knew that I should have discussed this with Reggie first, and I hadn't. The problem was that David needed an instant answer so that he could tell May that she could accept the Birmingham offer. I had to keep my fingers crossed that Reggie would understand when I told him that evening. I thought he would, but the more I thought about it, the more I started to worry. As a result, I felt very nervous as I arrived back at our flat in York. I made our tea and waited for Reggie to arrive from the university.

Halfway through our meal, while I was still wondering how to broach the subject, Reggie commented that I was unusually quiet.

“Is something the matter?” he inquired. There was nothing else for it, I had to tell him the whole story. He listened in silence which I found very disconcerting.

“I know I should have told them that I had to discuss it with you first. Instead of that, I put May and David first and that was really wrong.”

I had done my best to hold it together but now I realised that tears were starting to run down my cheeks. Reggie reached out and took my hands in his.

“Do you think I'm an ogre?” he said. “You look really frightened. I've never seen you like this before.”

“I know I'm in the wrong,” I replied, “Now I've agreed to help them out there's nothing I can do about it, except promise that I'll never do anything like that again without discussing it with you first. Will you forgive me? Please?”

Reggie laughed. “Your problem is that you're too soft-hearted. As for forgiveness, there's nothing to forgive.”

“I'm not looking to blame anyone else, but Dame Emily said something about it being up to all us actors to help each other. I've been helped so much that I suppose I felt I must give something back.”

“You're not to worry about it any more, just go ahead and put on a great performance. I'll be coming to see you of course. I hope they realise how lucky they are to have you.”

“And I know how lucky I am to have you,” I said as we started to kiss.

That evening, as we sat in our lounge room, with Reggie busy studying, I read through and memorised my part. If that sounds boastful, I claim no credit for what is often called a 'photographic memory', it's just something I was born with, and of course it is extremely useful for someone who makes her living on the stage. Some people have said to me 'if you have such a good memory, why aren't you a doctor or lawyer?' My response to that is while a lawyer's courtroom appearances most closely resemble an actor on stage, neither occupation held any appeal for me, and anyway they probably required more intelligence than I've got.

I rang my agent Richard to tell him what I'd signed up for, and he sighed and told me I was too generous with my time. “I suppose I'll have to get used to it,” he said.

“I'll make up for it when I go to America,” I replied. “Don't forget 'Romeo and Juliet' is coming up again too.”

During the evening I had a telephone call from May West. She wanted to thank me for taking over her part so that she could be released to go to Birmingham.

“When David told me he'd found someone who could take over from me at such short notice I thought he must be joking and when he told me who it was and that you are actually his sister-in-law I could hardly believe it.”

“I've been fortunate in my career so far, so I'm happy to help a fellow player,” I said. “From what David tells me, you have a great career ahead of you, so I thought it would be a shame for you to miss this chance. Did he mention that I started out with the Apollo Players too?”

“Yes he did,” she replied. “It's been a great learning experience working with them, but David said they've done as much as they can for me, and now it's time I took the next step.”

“Well, 'break a leg',” I said. “Let me know how you get on.”

By the time we went to bed, Reggie and I were best friends once more and demonstrated that to each other in the usual manner, but I made a firm resolution to remember in future that now I was a married woman, I couldn't make instant decisions like I could when there was no-one to answer to but me.

The next morning I was up at about six o'clock, had my shower and breakfast, then got dressed before making sure that Reggie was awake. By seven o'clock I was in 'Bluebird' and driving to Bridchester. I had arranged with David that I would meet him at the theatre early so that he could go through the blocking with me before the rest of the cast arrived.

When they were all assembled, David told them that May had left the production because of the offer in Birmingham and for those of the cast who didn't know me, I was replacing her. I think they were stunned that someone would take over at such short notice, and looked rather doubtful about David's decision. However, by the end of the day's rehearsing and finding that I was already 'off book', they seemed to have a better opinion of me. Perhaps others in the cast who already knew me had reassured them that the part was in 'safe hands'.

One of the scenes didn't require me to be present, so I went to see Mrs Arthur the Wardrobe Mistress, known to all and sundry as “Aunty”, to get measured for my costume.

“Well, look who's here!” she exclaimed as I walked through the door.

I laughed. “I'm back in my usual rôle of 'go-to girl', Aunty,” I replied.

“I heard about you offering to replace May. You're a good-hearted girl Harriet,” she said.

She ran a practised eye over me before producing her tape measure.

“As I thought, you're a size larger than May. I'll have to let out some seams a bit, but I'm sure I can fix up the costume by tomorrow.”

'Aunty' had been with Apollo for as long as anyone could remember, and when she said 'tomorrow', I know she meant it. She and I go back a long way as she was the first person to dress me as a girl for performing in professional theatre. It wasn't my first female part, but the others were in school plays where everyone knew I was a boy. In 'Dear Brutus', the intention was that the audience believed I really was a girl performing the rôle. [This episode is related in detail in 'The Might-Have-Been Girl' Chapter 2]

When we finished rehearsing for the day, I called in at Mum's before driving back to York, just to let her know how the day had gone.

“I'm so glad,” she said. “I can't wait to see you on stage once more.”

I couldn't help thinking that the thought of seeing me on stage was helping to keep Mum alive and that was a scary responsibility.

The next day I returned to 'Aunty's' workroom to be fitted for my costume. The play was first performed in 1895, the time of 'La Belle Époque' or the Edwardian Era in England, and our costumes reflected this, with a skirt flaring smoothly from the hips over some petticoats and widening to the hem which was just above the ground. Thank goodness the bustle had disappeared, but it was fashionable to have a tiny waist, and luckily I had one of those which was even more accentuated by a corset. The other notable feature of dresses at that time was 'leg of mutton' sleeves which had become quite large. All this had been faithfully copied by 'Aunty'.

Once I had put on the dress, she added a brown wig in the 'pompadour' hairstyle and this was crowned with an extravagant hat of considerable size. Checking myself in the full-length mirror, even without stage makeup, I still looked every inch the Edwardian lady and 'Aunty' professed herself to be very pleased with the result. She also had suitable stockings and shoes which would complete the costume when we had a dress rehearsal the following week. I walked up to the auditorium for David to see how I looked and he was thrilled with 'Aunty's' handiwork in adjusting the costume for me to wear.

“You look like the perfect 'Cecily',” he said.

I had had further discussions with Reggie and it had been decided that I would stay overnight Monday until Saturday with Mum and Aunty Peggy for the two weeks of the play's season.

“It's much too far for you to drive back to York each night,” he said, and I was glad of that, even though I would really miss sleeping with him. So much for the gypsy life of an actress.

The pantomime season came to an end and there was a rush by the stagehands to install the sets for 'Earnest'. They only had two days to do it, but they were professionals and knew their jobs. At last, we could rehearse in the proper set for the play and so there was a little fine tuning to do with our moves. Then came the dress rehearsal, which went remarkably well, and we were all set to go.

To be continued
Many thanks to Louise Ann and Julia for their assistance in identifying 'typos' and errors. Their help is much appreciated in making my writing look accurate and error-free.

Chapter 7   Flights of Angels

Opening Night arrived, and the theatre was packed. Bridchester had once again shown its support for the local theatre company. The performance went off without a hitch, and the audience laughed in all the right places. It was great fun to perform and we all enjoyed ourselves.

The newspaper critics were generous in their praise. No-one was singled out for particular attention, but all the cast were complimented. I was pleased about that. I didn't want to be pointed out as a 'visiting celebrity' as it might not help my relationship with the other cast members.

Mum was confined to her wheelchair for outings now and I decided that the only way for her to attend a performance was to organise two seats on the side aisle, so that she could either sit in the wheelchair or be helped across into the seat. It wasn't ideal, but the performances were almost sold out, and my preference was the matinée on the day of the last performance. I did ask the women in the box office to keep an eye out for anything more suitable, and someone 'up there' must have been looking after us. Three days before the last Saturday, Jesse rang me to tell me that they had two seats returned in the middle of the front row of the stalls. This was perfect, as Mum's wheelchair could access the seat from the front aisle without any trouble.

I organised one of the men in the 'front of house' staff to help Aunt Peggy wheel Mum into the theatre, and when the curtain rose and the light from the stage spilled onto the first few rows of seats, there she was, ready to enjoy the play..

The most difficult thing for me was to avoid looking at Mum. I did sneak the odd glance when I was not speaking, and I could see that she was thoroughly enjoying the performance. I had to stay in the theatre for the evening performance, but John from 'front of house' kindly wheeled Mum, accompanied by Aunt Peggy, down to my dressing room. She was on quite a 'high' when she arrived.

“That was such fun darling, and you were brilliant,” she said. She might have been slightly biased of course! Aunt Peggy added to the praise heaped on me. I was so glad that Mum had been able to see me perform one last time.

After the final evening performance, there was the usual 'after party' and I stayed for a while exchanging compliments with the other cast members and crew and saying how much I had enjoyed the opportunity to perform with them.

One of the guys, Len, came up to me and said “To be honest, when I heard about you and how you were taking over at such short notice, I thought you might be one of those stars from the big-time companies who is a bit 'up themselves', but you aren't like that at all, and it's been a privilege to perform with you.”

“Thanks, Len, I've really enjoyed it. To be honest, I was a bit concerned about what people would think when I came in so late, especially with David being my brother-in-law, but it all seemed to work out alright.”

I didn't stay too late as I knew Mum and Aunt Peggy would be waiting up until I arrived back at Mum's house. More compliments, a cup of tea and I was off to bed.

The next two weeks I spent a lot of time with Mum. I could see that she was fading fast and much of the time she spent in bed sleeping. One day when she was quite alert, she spoke to me about my life as an actress.

“Darling, I want you to promise me something; don't put your career on hold after I have gone. The best thing you can do in memory of me is to get back on the stage as soon as possible. I've spoke to Reggie about it and he agrees with me. You know, you've got a wonderful husband there. I couldn't have wished you to find a better one.”

Of course the tears started to flow, but I did promise her that I would do as she asked.

The doctor came on a regular basis to keep up her palliative care. She wasn't in any pain and for that I was grateful. We all knew that her time was short, so I was not surprised when one evening while I was in York, Emma rang me.

“Can you come and spend the night?” she said. “The doctor came again today and he thinks it's more a matter of hours than days.”

Reggie offered to drive me, but I assured him that I was alright, and I didn't want him to miss any lectures; it wasn't as though this had come suddenly. He had already said his goodbyes to Mum. A few days earlier, Emma had taken the children to see Mum for the last time. She had been awake and spoke to them for a while. Penny understood what was happening more than the younger children of course and she tried not to cry. Mum had done her best to comfort her.

“I'm just going to sleep, that's all,” she said. “It's nothing to be scared about.”

When I arrived at Mum's house, Emma was already there. We went up to Mum's bedroom together, hand in hand. For some years she had been sleeping in a single bed because she said a double one reminded her too much of Dad not being there. We sat on either side of the bed and held her hands. She was awake and spoke to us, her voice faint but clear.

“I'm going to be with your Dad tonight,” she said. “Will you stay with me until I go?”

“Of course we will,” we said, holding back the tears. She smiled at us both and after a while she dozed off and we sat there, holding her hands and talking quietly to each other, reminiscing about old times with Mum and Dad. From time to time Aunt Peggy came into the room, and on a couple of occasions she brought us in a cup of tea. I glanced out of the window and was reminded of lines by Dylan Thomas from 'Under Milk Wood':

It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black... Time passes. Time passes.'

Eventually and inevitably we dozed off.

Something woke me suddenly and I glanced at my watch. It was five o'clock in the morning, the hour before dawn; 'the Hour of the Wolf' as it is sometimes called when most babies are born and most old people pass away. I looked at Emma and she had woken too. Then we both looked at Mum. She was awake; her eyes wide open as though she was looking at something that we could not see and her face was wreathed in smiles. She slowly raised her right hand as if to reach out to someone, lifted her head slightly off the pillow and in the faintest of whispers she breathed her final word 'Harold!'. Then she closed her eyes, her head sank back on the pillow and she was gone.

Emma and I stared at each other. “It was Dad,” I said in a hushed voice. “He came for Mum and now they're together.”

“I think you're right,” said Aunt Peggy. She had been so quiet I didn't realise she was in the room. She walked up to the bed and kissed Mum on the forehead. “Goodnight little sister,” she said. “May you rest in peace.”

Emma and I kissed her in turn. Her skin was still warm and it was hard not to think that she was just asleep. “Good night, darling Mum,” I said. “May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”

Strangely I did not feel like crying then. Mum was where she wanted to be, with Dad, and that was a reason for joy, not sadness. I know some people claim that in the last moments of life, in our mind's eye we see an image of the person we love most. No-one can say if this is true or not, but the three of us in the room that night had no doubt that Dad had come to take Mum by the hand and lead her to Paradise.

We stood there in silence for some minutes and then Aunt Peggy took over a mother's rôle. “Why don't you two get some rest?” she said. “You look exhausted. I'll do what needs to be done.” Like little children, without argument, we walked to my bedroom, lay on the bed and soon we were fast asleep with our arms around each other.

I was grateful that I'd been given the chance to spend so much time with Mum in those last months of her life. So often I've heard people say that they wished they'd asked things of their parents and delayed until it was too late, in denial and unable to accept that time was running out. Mum and I had spoken about everything that we wanted to, and indeed she had done the same with Emma and Peggy, her sister. Her life was complete.

The days following Mum's death were very busy, organising the church and minister, the flowers and refreshments, choosing a 'casket' (for some reason the word 'coffin' freaks people out) and of course thinking what we would say about her. I decided against writing out my part of the eulogy in too much detail because I wanted it to be spontaneous, not sounding like a learned speech from a professional actress.

Mum had been very pragmatic about her funeral and had made known her preferences which we were happy to follow. For a start she didn't want anyone to wear black, so I wore a blue silk dress, and Emma wore dark red. Penny was allowed to come and she wore a pretty dark pink dress. Mum had also chosen what hymns she wanted and some poetry and music. A friend of Emma's had agreed to stay in their house and look after the young children. We knew the church would be full as Mum had attended it regularly and had many friends amongst the parishioners.

“I know it will go well with you three in charge,” Mum had said. “In fact my only regret is that I won't be there to see it, or if I am you won't see me. Just in case I am there make sure to say only nice things about me!”

I managed a smile. “I can't think of a single bad thing we could say about you Mum, and I really mean that. You've been the most wonderful mother there ever was.”

I was right; the church was filled to capacity and extra chairs were added along the aisles. The funeral service started with Mum's choice of a hymn, “All Things Bright and Beautiful”; later the Twenty-third Psalm was sung and the Lesson came from 1 Corinthians 15:

Brothers and sisters:
Behold, I tell you a mystery.
We shall not all fall asleep, but we will all be changed,
in an instant, in the blink of an eye, at the last trumpet.
For the trumpet will sound,
the dead will be raised incorruptible,
and we shall be changed...

When it came to the Eulogy, Emma stood up first which was her right as the eldest child. She spoke lovingly about Mum; how she had given up her own ambitions in order to be a wife to Dad and a mother to us and how she had performed this rôle perfectly. She told everyone how much in love Mum and Dad were, and how devastated she was at his premature death. Despite this, Mum carried on, and she was so pleased to see us grow up, supporting us in our choice of career and go on to perform in various plays which she loved to attend. Then she spoke of Mum's involvement in the church and her happiness in seeing us get married and also her joy at the arrival of her grandchildren. There was more, but I can't remember the details now, only that Emma spoke so well. Then she sat down and it was my turn.

I started by acknowledging Emma's contribution “Which leaves me little to say, because all that Emma said was so true, and what more is there to add? We were truly blessed to have her for our Mum. Her life had its share of sadness, particularly when Dad left us far too early, but now we believe they are together again. In the main she lived a happy life and her only regret was not remaining on this earth for longer so that she could see her grandchildren grow up, but she never complained. That was Mum.

“As you know, she had a great input into this service, choosing hymns, music and readings which she loved. She told me that since Mozart was her favourite composer, she thought that one of his symphonies should be played. 'It will only take an hour, and after all, no-one can leave, so there'll be a captive audience,' she said.”

I paused for dramatic effect.

“She was joking of course; for such a good person, Mum had a wicked sense of humour.” A ripple of laughter ran through the congregation, just as I had intended. “However she did choose some Mozart to play. It is very short, just three minutes in length, but then precious jewels are small. So now we are going to play the famous trio from 'Cosi Fan Tutti' titled 'Soave sia il Vento' – 'May the winds be gentle'. It's a most appropriate choice, since it's a song about a farewell.”

I nodded to the young man standing at the side to play the disc, and the glorious sounds of Mozart at his finest filled the church.

When it was over I spoke again. “Finally, Mum chose a poem she asked me to read. It was written by the American author Mary Elizabeth Frye.” I paused. Up until now I had spoken in a low-key manner, but now I released the actor in me and let my voice ring out, infusing every word with meaning, just as I did while on stage:

'Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.'

The church was absolutely silent when I finished. I saw a few ladies wipe their eyes. Had I been overly dramatic? I didn't think so; this was something I had to do for Mum. As I walked back to my seat, I lightly touched the casket and then on the spur of the moment I bent and kissed it. A single tear fell on the polished wood and sparkled in the reflected light of the candles, a tiny part of me for Mum to take to the grave with her.

When I sat down next to Reggie, he took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze; that was all I needed. The service continued with prayers and a blessing and concluded with the recessional hymn for which Mum had chosen another favourite – 'Jerusalem'. As it was sung, her casket was slowly wheeled out of the church, with first the family and then the others present following.

We had decided that Mum's burial at the cemetery would be too confronting for Penny, so Reggie's parents, Mr and Mrs Staunton, kindly agreed to take her to the church hall for the refreshments following the service. Emma and David, Reggie and I, Aunty Peggy, together with the minister Rev James Sutton travelled to the cemetery. I must confess that the moment when Mum's casket was lowered into the earth where she would lie next to Dad, was very hard for us all. It suddenly occurred to me that Emma and I were now orphans. Mum had always been there for us and no longer could we talk to her about our hopes and fears and listen to her great good sense and comforting words. This was truly the end of an era.

We returned to the church hall to greet the congregation and thank them for coming as we were obliged to do, and this was hard too with the way I was feeling. Mum had been an active member of the Women's Institute for many years, and was fond of quoting the famous saying “It's not all jam and Jerusalem”. Many of the members had come to visit her in recent months, so who else would we ask to provide the refreshments for the mourners? Expecting a big attendance, we had catered generously and as a result there was a lot of food left over. Anticipating that this might be the case I had asked the ladies to distribute it among the people who would benefit from it the most, especially the widows. After a token reluctance, most were glad to accept it as a way of providing another meal and making their pensions go a little further.

I was pleased and humbled by the number of people I knew who attended the service. Dale and Frank were there of course, and also Reggie's Aunt Jane who had driven all the way from Swansea. Vi Edwards also turned up from Stratford, and she was accompanied by Mike Jacobs who had been in the cast of “Two Gentlemen”. Reading the body language, it seemed they were an item. Perhaps, after all, Mike was just waiting for the right person to come along.

One person I didn't expect to see was Penny Lane, Duncan Morgan's secretary at Stratford.

“Duncan intended to come but an urgent meeting at the last minute prevented it, so I'm representing the Company,” she said. “He sends his sincere condolences; we all do. He asked me to tell you to take your time, and when you're ready, come back to Stratford. He thinks a lot of you, you know?”

“Please thank him,” I said. “It's really kind of you to come.”

“You recited that poem beautifully,” said Penny. “You mother would have loved to have heard it.”

“She did,” I replied. “It was from a book of modern poetry she had. She asked me to read it one day and after I finished, she said she wanted it included in her funeral service. She organised almost everything, we just followed her instructions.” I even managed a smile.

Two incidents of note which I still remember were as follows: One elderly parishioner came up to me and after expressing her sympathies said: “You read the poem so well, my dear, almost as if you were a professional actress.” I must confess I nearly choked on my tea, but managed a 'Thank you very much.” Obviously what little fame I had was slow in arriving at Bridchester.

The second incident was when another parishioner, probably in her eighties, came up to me and said: “Is your brother here?”

“Er, there's just me and my sister,” I replied and she seemed unconvinced.

“I thought that Elizabeth had a son and daughter. I must be getting old,” she said as she walked off, shaking her head. Well, I hadn't told a lie.

Finally, the ordeal finished and the last person left the hall. Despite it being only mid-afternoon, I felt exhausted and was glad that it was over.

It had occurred to me that Aunt Peggy might not want to stay at Mum's house on her own, so after consultation with Reggie, (yes I was learning!) I asked her if she would like to come and stay with us in York where we had a sofa that converted into a bed.

“Thank you, darling, but I'll be quite alright for the time being,” she said. “I've been meaning to talk to you and Emma but the time wasn't right until now. I was very happy to be here looking after my sister, but now it's time for me to get back to my family; they need me too. I hope you understand?”

“Of course,” I replied. “We owe you a debt of gratitude which we can never repay, but we know that you must be missing your family terribly. Would you like me to ring up and book your return flight?”

“Yes please, as soon as you can. Now get yourself back to York and rest. You look terribly tired, and no wonder.”

We dropped Aunt Peggy off at Mum's house and then Reggie drove us to York.

That night when we went to bed, I finally released the pent-up emotions which I had managed to hold in check ever since the day Mum died. Reggie held me in his arms as I sobbed my heart out, and when there were finally no more tears to be shed I fell into a deep sleep.

Some time that night I had a strange dream. It was so realistic that afterwards I couldn't be sure if it was a dream or if it really happened.

In my dream I woke up and there was Mum standing by my bedside. She was dressed in a long white robe and her face seemed to glow in the darkness as she smiled at me.

“Harriet darling, Dad's here,” she said, and sure enough I saw Dad standing there too, similarly clad and with a smile on his face. “I came to tell you that we're both very happy and you are not to be sad for us. Have a wonderful life darling; we love you, and remember we will be watching over you always.”

Then she and Dad faded away into the darkness and it seemed in my dream that I fell asleep again. Most dreams seem to disappear like mist the more we try and grasp them, but the next morning, I remembered it in every detail. I didn't know whether to tell Reggie as he might think it was just a result of all the emotional strain I had been under during the last few days, so I kept it to myself, but I did draw great comfort from it.

It was some years later that I told Emma about my dream and she turned white.

“I had exactly the same dream,” she said.

To be continued.

Author's note: For anyone who wishes to hear the Mozart trio “Soave sia il vento”, there are numerous recordings of it on Youtube. You will also find there a delightful musical rendition of 'Do not stand at my grave' sung by Welsh soprano Katherine Jenkins with orchestral accompaniment and choir.

I would like to acknowledge with thanks the assistance I continue to receive from Louise Ann and Julia Phillips in correcting errors and alerting me to 'typos' so that they can be eliminated before I post chapters.

Chapter 8   Farewell to Aunt Peggy

When I awoke the next morning, Reggie looked at me warily. Men feel so awkward when the woman they love cries, as they don't know what to do, so I smiled at him.

“I'm alright now, darling. Mum is with Dad and she's very happy, so I am happy for them too. There'll be no more tears.”

The look of relief on his face was very obvious as he kissed me.

I rang the airline later in the day and managed to get Aunt Peggy a flight four days later. When I rang to tell her I said: “Is there anything you'd like to do before you leave, any place you'd like to see?”

“Would you like me to help you sort out your Mum's things and then we'll see what time is left?” she said, ever the practical one.

The next day, I met up with Emma and Aunt Peggy at Mum's house. Mum had said she would like her clothes to go to a charity shop, 'That way they'll make a little money for people who need it' she had said. I kept a couple of her scarves as mementos but the rest was dealt with as she wanted. We asked Aunt Peggy if there was anything she'd like to take to remember Mum, and she chose a few small trinkets which Mum had inherited from their parents.

We all visited the solicitor who handled Mum's affairs to hear her will, and as we expected she had left her house jointly to Emma and me. She had three diamond rings which she'd inherited from her mother and a couple of aunts, and she left one each to Emma, Aunt Peggy and me. Among the other bequests was a thousand pounds to the RSPCA and another thousand to each of the grandchildren, including Penny and Stella, showing how she considered them part of the family. The money was to be invested and held in trust for them until they were eighteen. The residue of her estate after all costs were paid, she left to her church. We thought it was an excellent distribution of her assets and just what we would have expected of her.

“What will you do with the house?” asked Aunt Peggy.

“I think Emma and I will have to discuss that,” I replied.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry,” said Aunt Peggy, and I felt awful.

“I didn't mean that the way it sounded Aunt Peggy. There's a number of options and we need to decide which is the best one; do we sell it or rent it? It's smaller than Emma's house, so no advantage for her to move into it, and it's not worth keeping empty for the odd occasion when Reggie and I might want to stay.”

“I didn't mean it the way it sounded either, Harriet. Of course you need to work out what's the best way to handle it,” and with that she gave me a hug.

In the end, I didn't take Aunt Peggy anywhere. She was content to spend the time with the family, so, on her final evening in England we had a really nice tea at Emma and David's house with Reggie there too. Aunt Peggy had agreed to come and stay with us in York for the last night, so that we could drive straight to Manchester Airport. We said we would sleep on the sofa bed, but she insisted that is was perfectly fine for her, so we had to concede gracefully.

We were up early the next morning and left York soon after breakfast. The traffic is unpredictable, but it wasn't too heavy that morning and we arrived at the airport about four hours before Aunt Peggy's flight was due to depart. We had a light meal together since we had got up quite early, and when baggage check-in opened, and Aunt Peggy went to the counter with her suitcase, something strange happened.

She came back with a funny look on her face and said: “Alright, how did you do it?”

“Do what?” I replied.

“They've just told me they're upgrading me from Business to First Class,” she said. “You're not going to pretend you didn't know about it?”

I was stunned. The fact is I didn't know. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, someone else had achieved a minor miracle as a way of saying 'thank you' to her sister for all that she'd done. Naturally, I didn't say it, they might have carted me off to the asylum!

“Well I'd like to take credit for it Aunt Peggy, but I think they just liked the look of you.” It was true that she was smartly dressed and maybe that made all the difference. “Maybe you should have brought your crown for this trip,” I said, and we all laughed.

“Just wait until I tell the family. They are going to be so envious,” she said.

We kept chatting until it came time for her to go through Customs, and then there were hugs and kisses and not a few tears of course.

“You must come and see us in Australia, both of you,” said Aunt Peggy and we promised that we would come to see where she lived, in that small town with the wonderful name of Yackandandah, which she assured us everyone calls 'Yack'.”

Finally, she picked up her carry-on case and walked through the double swing doors, turning for a final wave. We weren't in a hurry to get back to York so we went to the Runway Visitor Park to watch Aunt Peggy's plane take off before finally hitting the road once more.

While I think of it, I did phone Aunt Peggy after she arrived back in Australia to ask how the flight had been.

“Well I thought Business Class was amazing, but First Class was like a different world,” she said. “I know you claim you didn't arrange it but I'm still not sure I believe you, so I want to thank you again, even though it really wasn't necessary.”

I laughed. “Well if anyone arranged it, it was Mum, not me,” I replied. “Don't quote me on that or people with think I need locking up.”

Aunt Peggy laughed too: “Alright, it will be our secret.”

As we left Manchester Airport I suddenly felt very 'down', so much so that I didn't notice for about ten minutes that Reggie had turned south instead of north after leaving the Visitor Park.

“Reggie, where are we going?” I enquired.

“Stratford of course,” he replied.

“But why?”

“It's very simple. If we go back to York, you're going to mope around. What you need to do is get back to work as soon as possible. Your boss wants to see you, so we're going to Stratford.”

“But I'm not dressed to see Mr Morgan,” I protested, but Reggie had an answer.

“I think you look fine, but if you insist on changing, then we'll stop off at the flat.”

“And another thing, how do you know Mr Morgan wants to see me. Did you ring him?” I was starting to feel a little annoyed.

“Don't be mad at me darling, “ he responded. “Just for once, believe that I know what's best for you, and actually, he rang me.”

I had no answer for that because I knew he was probably right. Unusually for me, I stopped talking and watched the scenery as we drove to my second home. By the time we reached Stratford, I realised that Reggie was right again, I really didn't need to change, so instead, we drove straight to the theatre.

Reggie went for coffee while I walked up to the Admin area. When I arrived, Penny looked at me sympathetically.

“Good afternoon Harriet,” she said. “Would you like to go straight in? They're waiting for you.'” Another change – we were suddenly on first name terms!

'They?' I thought as I knocked on Duncan Morgan's door and he called out “Come in.” As I walked inside the room the two men stood up. The second one was Chris Johnson.

“Come in Harriet, won't you take a seat?” said Duncan. “I'm so sorry I couldn't get to Bridchester, an important meeting came up at short notice.”

“It was very kind of you to allow Penny to come and pass on your condolences,” I said.

We all sat down, and Penny appeared with a tray of tea for us. I was certainly getting the royal treatment.

“I asked you to come today for a special reason. Chris will tell you about it.”

“Do you remember when we were rehearsing “Two Gentlemen” and I had to go to London for a couple of days to see the management at the Globe Theatre? Well, they've asked ISC to stage a production of “Much Ado About Nothing”, and I've been asked to direct. The thing is, I want you to play Beatrice and also be my Assistant Director again. What do you think?” said Chris.

I was stunned. “When is this going to happen?” I asked.

“Sooner than we expected,” Chris replied. “Another production has had to be cancelled and they want us to start in five weeks' time. I know it's not long to cast and rehearse it but I've assured Duncan that we can do it. Auditions start next week, and if you accept, I will want you there of course.”

I knew that there was no need to consult Reggie on this offer as I was sure he already knew all about it, and what's more he really wanted me to take it.

“Well Chris, Mr Morgan, I am very happy to accept your offer,” I said.

After the meeting, I met Reggie in the coffee shop

“You knew all about that, didn't you. Why didn't you tell me?” I said.

“I presume you said 'yes'?” he said. “Of course you did, and I'm so glad. When Duncan rang me about the play I was so pleased, because I spoke to your mum about a month ago and she asked me to make sure that you started work again as soon as possible. She was quite worried about you slipping into depression and she thought this was what you needed.”

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. “Fancy her thinking of me when she was so ill. It's no wonder I miss her so much.” Then something occurred to me. “When did you and Duncan Morgan get on first name terms? I call him Mr Morgan.”

Reggie laughed: “The difference is that he's your boss, not mine, and I called him Duncan because he asked me to.”

I suddenly felt serious again. “You do realise that this will mean we're apart again don't you?”

“Darling, I knew that when I married you, and it makes no difference to how much I love you. I'll come down to London each weekend while you're away, otherwise I'll miss you too much.”

If we hadn't been in such a public place I would have kissed him.

Back in Bridchester there were still things to be done, including a decision on what to do about Mum's house. I didn't like the idea of it standing empty. Even in a quiet town like Bridchester there had been instances of empty houses being broken into and things stolen or the interior trashed. I phoned Emma and asked her if she and David could meet up with me and Reggie to make a decision on the house, and she invited us over the following evening. I mentioned that we might stay overnight in Mum's house. Now that she was a part-owner it seemed the right thing to do. She had no objection, but it just showed how circumstances had changed.

The following evening we arrived at Emma and David's house and after a cup of tea we got down to business.

“Do you have any ideas on what to do with the house?” Emma said.

“Well my preference is to keep it and rent it out and then share the proceeds after deducting costs,” I said.

Emma and David looked at each other. “We were thinking of another option,” said Emma. “With the family growing up, we are soon going to need more room. We have room on our plot to renovate and extend our house and it would be cheaper than moving. Besides, we like where we are. That would involve selling Mum's house and dividing the proceeds, so that we would have the money to make the changes.”

“Is your need to extend partly due to Stella living with you?” I asked. “If so, and you are prepared to let her stay with you, then we should make a contribution to the costs.”

“No, Stella isn't a factor in our decision to extend,” said Emma.

I suddenly had an idea: “Let me run another option past you. Reggie and I need to keep renting at present, but we have been thinking that we should invest in some real estate. As another option, could we buy your half interest in Mum's house? We'd have to get a number of valuations of course and base what we pay on the highest valuation, that's only fair.”

Emma looked at Reggie. “What do you think about that Reggie?”

“Well, it's the first I've heard about it, but it does make sense if you are in agreement.”

I felt bad. I had spoken of my idea the moment I thought of it instead of running it past Reggie first.

“I'm sorry everyone, I've spoken out of turn,” I said turning bright red.

Emma laughed. “My dear sister, if you didn't do that from time to time we'd think there was something wrong with you. Look, why don't we all think about it before making a decision, and perhaps meet again in a few days?”

We all agreed that was the best idea, and after a cup of coffee, we made our farewells and drove over to Mum's house (I couldn't think of it any other way) to sleep.

As we drove I said. “Reggie, I feel such a fool. I should have discussed my idea with you first instead of opening my big mouth. I'm really sorry, I've got to learn to keep it shut.”

“It's alright,” said Reggie. “It's actually a very good idea, but it might have been better if we had discussed it first so we were both on the same page.”

That made me feel worse. “I hope you're not regretting marrying me,” I said.

“Of course not; I love you and nothing will change that.”

“You'd just like me to think before I open my mouth,” I said, feeling really miserable.

Reggie reached over and took my hand. “It's like Emma said, if you didn't do things like that it wouldn't be you.”

“The more I think of it, is it really a good idea? I mean, if we buy it and the value goes up and later we sell it at a profit, will Emma and David feel that we've somehow ripped them off?”

“Well they shouldn't. It's exactly the same as if we sold your Mum's house, took your half and bought another house that rose in value.”

“I suppose so,” I replied, but I still had a niggling feeling that it wasn't exactly the same. I was reminded of that saying by Johann Kaspar Lavater 'Say not you know another entirely till you have divided an inheritance with him.' I was very close to my sister and would do anything to avoid a rift between us.

As it turned out, when we next met up with Emma and David, they agreed to my proposal.

“You realise that the value of Mum's house may go up in future and by taking the money now, you will miss out on that?” I said.

“Yes, we've discussed that,” said David. “But the value of our own house will increase with the renovations, and we couldn't do them without that money.”

I was very relieved. We set about getting a licensed valuer and three real estate agents to value the house. They all came out within £5,000 of each other, and as I had already promised, we based our purchase on the highest valuation. Then we had to see our bank about a loan and engage a solicitor to deal with all the paperwork, putting the house in Reggie's and my names. Inevitably the government had its hand out for some money in the form of various fees and charges but I think we were still ahead of the costs we would have incurred if we had used the money from Mum's house to buy another one.

In the meantime, we had to set about clearing the house of furniture. I took an old sideboard which while not an antique, had been in the house as long as I remembered and was something that would always remind me of my parents. Emma took a few items too, including the beds which would come in handy as the children grew older. We gave Mum's bed to a charity shop, along with a number of different items. No-one wants a bed in which they know someone has died, but anyone buying it from the shop wouldn't know that. Second-hand furniture is almost impossible to sell unless it really is an antique, but at least by going to charity some money might be made from it.

The next thing to have done was painting inside and out in order to prepare it for letting. The house itself was generally in good order, but it was many years since it had last been painted and it needed to be freshened up. Having heard horror stories of tenants who have ruined houses, I discussed this with a couple of local estate agents and finally settled with one whom I felt I could trust. The tenants they found for us were excellent and we had no trouble with them at all. I exercised my right as an owner to visit the house every few months at first and then less frequently since it was obvious that they were keeping it in very good order. We charged a very fair rent since we preferred to have someone trustworthy living there.

'All's well that ends well' as the saying goes although I still kept my fingers crossed.

To be continued

I would like to acknowledge with thanks the assistance I continue to receive from Louise Ann and Julia Phillips in correcting errors and alerting me to 'typos' so that they can be eliminated before I post chapters.

Chapter 9   Performing at 'The Globe'

Just before I drove down to Stratford to be present at the auditions, I received a very nice condolence card from Magnolia and Hiram Thompson. Magnolia included a hand-written note in which she said “I lost my Mom when I was only sixteen and not a day has passed since when I haven't thought of her and missed her.” She went on to say that she and Hiram still looked forward to welcoming me into their home, but there was no rush and I should only come if and when I felt able to do so.

In these days of emails and printed material, receiving a hand-written letter is special, so I took out a pen and paper and returned the compliment. Thus started a correspondence which has lasted to the present day. I wrote that my Mum had made me promise not to put my career on hold after she had passed. I told her about me being about to play in 'Much Ado about Nothing”, and also taking on the job of Assistant Director for a second time, something which would enable me to make a bigger contribution to Hiram's theatre when I came to America. This I hoped could be arranged for the near future as I would be free once the season at the Globe had finished.

I had already been in touch with Richard, my agent, and he was very pleased to hear that I was back with the 'big boys' again. I also informed him that after discussion with Reggie and in accordance with my Mum's wishes, I would be available to go to America in the middle of the year. That made him very happy! I think he accepted my occasional forays into regional theatre, namely the Apollo Players, with amused resignation. I suppose he was used to actors being mildly eccentric, even though I'm sure he thought I was wasting my time doing so.

Back at Stratford, I was starting to get used to sitting with Chris the Director and Gwyneth Soames, the ISC's Artistic Director while the auditions were being held. I was quite in awe of Gwyneth who had worked in the past with Sir Peter Hall whilst he had been at Stratford. I naturally started by addressing her as Miss Soames, but she was very approachable and told me to call her Gwyneth while we were working on the casting.

Each of us had a clipboard with details of all the actors who were auditioning for the parts. I was very much aware that I was the junior member of the trio, but they still encouraged me to have an input into the selections. In some ways it felt like 'playing God'.

“A couple of tips for when you are casting for plays,” said Chris. “Never chose someone just because you know them. It's a very human reaction to want to surround yourself with familiar faces, but on the other hand, don't not choose them if they are the best person for the rôle.”

Gwyneth nodded in agreement, and I made another entry in my notebook. All this information was like gold, especially in view of my forthcoming trip to America when I might well be involved in cast selection on my own or at least as the senior selector.

There were a number of candidates for each rôle and only one person could be offered the position with another having the chance to be the understudy. With this power came responsibility since the wrong choice of actor could affect the whole production. I was glad that while they asked my opinion, Gwyneth and Chris between them made the ultimate choices. In the main, I'm pleased to say my choices agreed with theirs.

Mike Jacobs who had performed in “Two Gentlemen” was selected to play 'Benedick' against my 'Beatrice' and I was pleased when Viola Edwards won the rôle of 'Hero'. While to modern ears that sounds like a male part, 'Hero' is actually a young woman and a cousin to Beatrice. The other cast members were new to me, although I had seen some of them around the theatre.

The season at the Globe was going to last for six weeks and Vi asked me if I'd be interested in sharing a two-bedroom serviced apartment for that time. I was happy to agree as I had no wish to live on my own in London. Reggie promised to come down each weekend that he could, but I knew he was involved with football, playing for the university, so I didn't expect to see him too often. Vi had something to ask me, and judging by how embarrassed she looked I guessed what it might be.

“You know that Mike and I are seeing each other, do you mind if he stays over some nights?” she asked and was very relieved when I said that was fine by me. As it turned out, the walls in the apartment were rather thin and some nights I could hear much smothered giggling and other sounds. Fortunately, I am a good sleeper, so it didn't really disturb me, but it did make me rather circumspect when Reggie stayed the night! A couple of weeks after the auditions, when the cast was finalised, we headed down to London to start rehearsing at the Globe.

I will not go into great detail about this as it can be boring for non-theatrical people. I recall once, thinking that I should read some of the classics, I tackled Herman Melville's 'Moby Dick'. I quickly learned more about cetaceans (whales, dolphins and porpoises, of which there are more than eighty species), than the average person needs to know. Finally, I was forced to skip whole chapters for fear I would die of boredom and never finish the book!

On the subject of acting, there are many texts, including, if I may include a shameless promotion, my own “The Young Actors Guide to Performing Shakespeare”, which I wrote some years back with the encouragement of Dame Emily, who wrote the Foreword. It includes a whole section on performing on a thrust stage and I was surprised and pleased with the number of copies that have been sold.

The season started and ticket sales were very good. The public knows that any production by the ISC will be a good one if I say so myself. The critics were generous and included some very kind comments about my contribution. Emma had volunteered to take over the scrapbooks in which so many reviews and pictures had been lovingly stored by Mum, and when I cut them out to post to her, the memories came flooding back and I confess the tears flowed. I had wondered if Emma would cope with what must have been a reminder of her own career put on hold, but she seemed quite happy to do it.

A couple of weeks after the season started I received a phone call from Richard, my agent. He had organised for me to travel to America two weeks after the Globe season finished. I was glad of that since I wanted a short break to be Mrs Staunton before starting on my new assignment.

Due to the open-air nature of the theatre, performing at the Globe involved more afternoon matinées than in fully enclosed theatres. It was at the Globe that I experienced for the first time performing outdoors while it was raining. Fortunately for the performers, the canopy over the stage kept us dry so long as we stayed towards the back of the stage, but the poor 'groundlings' were thoroughly soaked since while they were allowed raincoats, they couldn't use umbrellas. However they all seemed to think it was part of the experience of attending a Shakespeare play as it would have occurred back in the sixteen century, and very few walked out.

Some performances were termed 'relaxed', that is to say, audience members including people with autistic spectrum conditions, sensory and communication disorders or people with learning disabilities were welcome to attend. This meant a more relaxed attitude to normal audience etiquette. Families were welcome to bring along small children and even people suffering from dementia. As actors we were expected to cope with people calling out, babies crying and even to interact with the audience more than usual. It certainly taught us to think on our feet. I thought it was a wonderful idea to make Shakespeare more accessible to people who otherwise might not have been able to attend a play, and stored it away in my notebook as something which I might suggest introducing during my American trip.

One afternoon when I was in my dressing room after a performance and changing out of my costume, the telephone rang. It was Eric who manned the little office just inside the stage door.

“There's a Mrs Louise Burton here with a young lady. She says you know her and was wondering if you'd have time to see her?”

We all appreciate having someone like Eric at the Stage Door. Occasionally fans can get too demanding and there are even some who convince themselves that they are in love with you, and worse still, that you are in love with them. It pays to have a 'gate-keeper'. This was different. I knew Louise Burton from the time I stayed with her when I was performing in 'Dear Brutus' in London, my first professional rôle. I also knew her daughter who started life as her son. I recounted all this in my first memoir 'The Might-Have-Been Girl'. I had last seen them in Stratford and knew that Antonette, her now-daughter was developing into a very pretty young lady, so I asked Eric to tell them that I would be there shortly.

“Hello Mrs Burton, it's so nice to see you again; hello Antonette,” I said.

Louise Burton greeted me warmly, and Antonette blushed as she said “It's nice to see you again Miss Stow.”

“Call me Harriet please,” I replied. “Officially I'm Mrs Staunton now since I married Reggie recently, but I'm still Harriet Stow when I'm working.”

“Congratulations, my dear,” said Louise. “He's a lovely young man.”

“I was just about to go for a coffee and sandwich between performances,” I said. “Do you have time to join me?”

“That would be wonderful,” said Louise. Antonette seemed to be struck dumb and hadn't said a word after our initial greeting. I put it down to acute shyness. We walked to a local café and put in our orders.

After sitting at the table, I said: “What brings you here?”

“Antonette saw the advertisement for the play at the Globe and your name was mentioned, so we came along to see the performance.”

“I hope you enjoyed it,” I said.

“Oh yes, it was wonderful and so were you,” said Antonette who had suddenly found her voice.

“I'm so glad; we actors thrive on positive reviews,” I said with a smile.

“Antonette has something to ask you,” said Louise, and at once Antonette coloured up again.

I smiled encouragingly at her.

“I, err, well I really enjoy performing and I'm going to an acting class that meets on Saturday mornings. I'd love to do Shakespeare but they don't really seem interested, so I was wondering, if you had time that is, whether you'd be willing to come along and tell us a bit about acting Shakespeare?” She paused. “I spoke to Miss Carson who runs the group and told her I knew you. She said you would be very welcome if you had the time to come along, but she seemed to think you'd be far too busy.”

I knew that this was giving me an 'out', but I resolved not to take it.

“I'd be very happy to come along, but I might have a problem with getting back to the theatre for the matinée on Saturdays,” I said. “Whereabouts does the group meet?”

“It's in Finsbury Park,” said Antonette and her face fell, anticipating my refusal to attend.

“Let me check my diary of performance times,” I said and consulted my diary. “Well this is good news, on Saturday in two weeks we don't start until three o'clock. If I can leave by twelve that should give me time.”

Antonette brightened up immediately. “We start at nine o'clock, would that be alright?”

“I'm sure it would,” I replied. “Can you give me Miss Carson's phone number and I'll call to to check that it's alright with her.”

I was so glad that I didn't have to disappoint her and in fact I'd had an idea which I wasn't going to mention just in case I couldn't arrange it, but two weeks might just give me enough time.

My next job was to talk to the Managing Director at the Globe and also run it past Chris. I was very pleased when they both reacted very positively to my idea.

When I phoned Miss Carson she seemed slightly overawed that I was calling her.

“Miss Stow!” she exclaimed. “Antonette told me that she knew you but I never thought you'd have the time to call.”

It occurred to me that Miss Carson was 'stage-struck' and regarded actors as superior beings. Perhaps she'd had hopes to perform professionally herself but hadn't made it past the amateur stage. I did my best to put her at her ease.

“Antonette tells me that she really enjoys your classes and was hoping that me visiting might interest the class in performing Shakespeare. I'd be happy to help if I can.”

I went on to confirm the date of my visit and also my suggestion which was received with open arms.

“The children will be so excited,” she said, and I hoped that she was right.

To be continued

Many thanks again to Louise Ann and Julie Phillips for their knowledge and eagle eyes that pick up my 'typos' and grammatical errors .

Chapter 10   Harriet the teacher

The day of my visit arrived. I decided that I should look like an 'actress', so wore one of my prettiest dresses, high heels and stockings. I took great care with my hair and make-up. It had been arranged that I should arrive at nine-thirty, giving the class time to settle down. Louis XVIII of France is said to have coined the phrase 'Punctuality is the politeness of kings', and I always bore that in mind, so, although not a queen, right on the stroke of nine-thirty I arrived at the church hall in Finsbury Park where the acting class was held.

There was a murmur of excitement when I walked in the door and Miss Carson, looking slightly flushed herself, said “Class, this is Miss Harriet Stow. She's a well-known Shakespearean actress.”

“I'm very pleased to be here Miss Carson,” I said.

“Oh please, call me Jennifer,” she said.

“Then you must call me Harriet,” I replied.

I looked at about twenty young faces gazing at me and said “Good morning everyone, thank you for inviting me to your class. It's really nice to be here. Miss Carson has told you what I do. Currently, I'm working at the Globe theatre. There are many theatres in London, can anyone tell me why the Globe Theatre is different?

Several of the youngsters, including Antonette raised their hands, so I smiled at her and said “I know that you know the answer, Antonette, so I hope you don't mind if I ask someone else?” I pointed at a boy of about twelve at the front of the group.

“It was built by William Shakespeare,” he said.

“Well yes, in a way,” I replied, “But our present Globe isn't the original building; there have been two before it. The original Globe was built back in 1599 by a group of actors, one of whom was Shakespeare. Unfortunately, it burnt down thirteen years later in an accident during a play but was rebuilt and continued on for a number of years until the Puritans, who didn't like theatres, managed to get them all shut down. It was demolished and never rebuilt until an American actor and producer called Sam Wanamaker set about trying to get a new Globe Theatre built. It took a lot of work to do and unfortunately, he died about three years before the new theatre we have today was opened by the Queen in 1997.”

I could see their eyes starting to glaze over and realised that I was sounding more like a teacher than an actress, so I hurriedly changed tack.

“Now, can anyone tell me why we enjoy acting or going to the theatre?”

This seemed to stump them and then, bless her, Antonette spoke up.

“Is it because we like telling and listening to stories?”

I could have kissed her. “Yes, Antonette, that's exactly right. Do you remember hearing bedtime stories when you were little? It didn't matter if you'd heard them before, in fact, it was almost better if you had already heard them, you still loved them. You heard Miss Carson say that I act in a lot of Shakespeare plays, and there's a reason for that. Even though he lived four hundred years ago, he was a very good storyteller, and that's why people still enjoy his plays even today.

“I know that some of you may have had to study Shakespeare at school and think that he's boring; but his plays weren't meant to be read, they were meant to be performed on stage and there's a world of difference between the two. Performing them brings them to life, and even though some of the language is old-fashioned, it makes them easier to understand. Now, are there any questions you would like to ask me? Please tell me your names when you ask.”

One boy put up his hand. “I'm Dennis, miss. Who is your favourite actor?”

“Well, as far as lady actors go, I think that would be Dame Emily Good. Has anyone heard of her? She's been in some well-known films.”

A couple of hands went up. “Have you met her?” asked Dennis.

“Yes I have. I've even acted on stage with her.” That seemed to impress them.

“What about men actors,” said Dennis.

“One of my favourites is Richard Jenkins. I acted with him In 'Romeo and Juliet',” I said.

This produced a sigh from the girls. It sounded like they were very envious.

“Do you like him?” I said to the girls in general.

“Oh yes!” one of them said. “He's really hot.” It seemed that being on stage with him had really enhanced my reputation in their eyes.

At this point, Miss Carson stepped in.

“We have a surprise for you today Miss Stow. Each year our little group performs two shows for their parents and friends, one in June and a pantomime in December. At present we are rehearsing 'The Mikado' for our June show, and we'd like you to hear how it is coming along. Are you ready children?”

With a lot of excited chatter, the children all walked up the steps onto the stage and disappeared into the wings. Miss Carson took a chair from the side of the hall and set it up for me at about the middle of the stalls position in a theatre. As she did so, I couldn't help thinking that it was an ambitious project for such a young group.

There was a piano set up beside the stage and Miss Carson sat down and started to play an abbreviated version of the overture to 'The Mikado'. Then she started to play the introduction to 'Three Little Maids from School' and on to the stage walked three girls including Antonette, who started to sing. I didn't know what to expect but they were surprisingly good. This was followed by 'A Wand'ring Minstrel I', 'The Lord High Executioner' song, 'I've got a Little List', and 'The Flowers that Bloom in the Spring'. They concluded with 'He's Gone and Married Yum-Yum'.

When they finished, I stood up and clapped. I wasn't going to say so of course, but I could see that three of the girls, including Antonette were quite talented, but the stand-out was a young teenage boy who played Ko-Ko, the Lord High Executioner. I decided that I must speak to Miss Carson about him when we could converse without being overheard.

“Thank you very much, everyone. That was most enjoyable, If I can, I would love to come along and see the complete performance,” I said. I glanced at Miss Carson who had just reappeared after going out to the hall foyer and she nodded.

“Now I have a surprise for you too. Miss Carson has spoken to all your parents, some of whom are waiting outside, and we are all going down to the Globe Theatre. After you've had a tour of the theatre and lunch, you will see a performance of “Much Ado About Nothing” in which I'm performing at present. I hope that might change your mind about acting in Shakespeare plays.”

There were some gratifying squeals of pleasure at this announcement. The doors to the hall opened and in came the parents of most of the children. Everyone picked up their belongings, and we walked down to Finsbury Park tube station which was only five minutes away and took the train. After changing trains a couple of times, we alighted at Mansion House station, and from there it was ten-minute walk across Southwark Bridge to the theatre.

At the southern end of the bridge I paused to address the group, again feeling rather like a teacher.

“A little way up this road on the left side is a building called Anchor Terrace and some years back the foundations of the original Globe Theatre were discovered there in the car park.”

“Why didn't they build the new theatre on the same site, miss?” asked one of the group.

“Because it's what's called a 'listed building' which means it's historic and can't be pulled down. Fortunately a site was found only five minutes away to build the new theatre,” I said as we took the steps down to Bankside and walked along beside the Thames. After a few minutes, the theatre came into view and the children looked in awe at the white-painted building. I don't think they expected it to be so large.

I led them to the main entrance where we were expected, and then into the 'groundlings' area in front of the stage. The children stood open-mouthed as they turned around, taking in the sight of the three tiers of seating.

“How many people does it hold, miss,” said Dennis.

“Well it seats over eight hundred and fifty people,” I said. “But another seven hundred can stand in this area. They're the ones called 'groundlings', and their tickets are the cheapest.”

They looked impressed.

“Can we stand on the stage, miss?” This came from the boy who had played the Lord High Executioner and whom I now knew to be called Ernest Wiseman.

“Of course,” I said, and led everyone up the steps and onto the stage. The adults looked at the young people as they walked about the stage, and I watched Ernest in particular. I knew exactly what he was thinking 'One day I'm going to act on this stage', and I thought he was probably right.

Just then, Jean, one of the tour guides came up on the stage and I introduced the group to her. “I have to leave you now so that I can get ready for this afternoon's performance. After Jean has shown you around, Miss Carson and your parents will take you for lunch and bring you back in time to see the show. I'll see you again after the performance has finished.”

The performance went very well and I caught sight of some familiar faces standing in the 'groundlings' area. They seemed to be enjoying the show very much. At the conclusion of the performance and after the rest of the audience had left, I came back on stage again, still in my costume and Miss Carson brought the group up on stage to see me.

“Well, what did you think of the play?” I asked. The response was very gratifying. It seemed everyone had enjoyed themselves and would now love to play Shakespeare! Miss Carson said that Ernest had been asked to say a few words.

“On behalf of all the group and our parents, I would like to thank you, Miss Stow, for a really enjoyable day. We enjoyed performing for you and also see you performing for us. I'm sure it's inspired us all to do the very best that we can when we perform for an audience.”

“Thank you very much for those kind words, Ernest,” I replied. “That's one final point which I try never to forget. When I perform a season of a play I might do it thirty or forty times, but I try never to forget that each person in the audience only sees the play once, so I do my best to make sure that he or she sees the very best performance I can give.”

They all nodded after I spoke. Then I said farewell and that hoped to see them perform again. It seemed the day had been a great success, and after the next Saturday meeting of the group, Miss Carson rang to tell me that the children had not stopped talking about the day we had had together. That made me think that helping children learn to perform on stage was something that I would like to get involved with when I had the time.

The season continued and we played to packed houses. Some Saturdays Reggie came down and stayed the night with me, although sometimes he was playing football and couldn't get away. He was now the vice-captain of the football team and they were playing against other university teams most weekends. Phillip Whitlow was the captain, and Reggie mentioned that he often asked after Stella. To me that seemed unusual. To be honest I didn't trust him.

Finally, the season was over and after the usual farewell drinks, we all went our separate ways. I took the train back to York where Reggie met me at the station. It was wonderful to be together again. We hugged and kissed as though it had been years since we had seen each other.

The next two weeks I enjoyed being Mrs Staunton 'far away from the footlights' glare' as the old song goes. While Reggie was at the university, I drove to Bridchester and my first destination was the cemetery to visit Mum and Dad's grave. I took along some fresh flowers and was pleased to see that Mum's name had now been added to the headstone. Some flowers were already on the grave, so Emma must have been there recently. Looking round at some of the other graves that looked rather neglected, I made up my mind that my parents' grave would always have fresh flowers even if Emma and I were not around to tend to it, and I decided to check with a local florist if this could be arranged.

No-one else was around, so I sat down on the grass for a while and talked to them. That might sound silly, but it gave me great comfort. I told them all that I had been doing and how I was off to America soon. I knew that Mum in particular had always wanted to go there and never made it, so I promised to return and tell her all about it.

After that I drove to Emma's house to have lunch with her and see the children. They seemed to be growing so fast. Stella was calling Emma “Mumma', which was hardly surprising, so rather than confuse her we agreed that it was better for me to be 'Aunty Harriet'. Perhaps when she was old enough to understand, then the true relationship could be explained to her.

Twice more I made the visits during the two weeks that I was at York. I also drove past 'Mum's house' as I continued to think of it in my mind, and I was pleased to see that it was looking neat and tidy.

Finally the day came when I would have to leave for America. Reggie loaded my suitcase into the back of his car and drove me to Manchester Airport. We hugged and kissed like teenagers before I went through to Security. We weren't going to be separated for too long as Mr Thompson had kindly organised a return ticket for Reggie to fly over for a weekend after I had been there about a month.

I had expected to be given a Business Class ticket but was surprised to find that it was First Class when it arrived. I don't suppose the Thompsons travelled any other way. The only thing better than a First Class ticket is one you don't pay for! The first leg of the journey was the hour's flight down to Heathrow where I changed planes for the trip to Boston.

I settled into the luxury of the First Class cabin where all the 'guests' as we were called, were waited on hand and foot. The seats converted into beds, although for a relatively short flight of about ten hours it didn't seem necessary to use this facility. The food was of a very superior quality and I could easily have spent the trip in a drunken haze with all the liquor that was available, but I restricted my intake to a glass of wine with the main meal, and mineral water to keep up my hydration. There was plenty of in-flight entertainment on the screens in front of each seat and I amused myself by watching a film with a ridiculous story-line and very bad acting, while I mentally imagined myself to be a critic and was composing in my mind a damning review. Eventually I tired of this and started to doze off.

I was suddenly awakened by a loud although muffled bang which appeared to come from outside, and the aircraft started to shudder violently.

To be continued.

My continuing thanks to Louise Ann and Julia Phillips for alerting me to typos and errors of fact to be corrected before publication

Chapter 11    On a wing and a prayer.

For a couple of minutes nobody spoke. I think we were all in shock. Gradually the shuddering eased until it was barely noticeable. Nevertheless, I think we were all suddenly aware that we were travelling in a metal tube about thirty thousand feet up in the air and while gravity would inevitably bring us back to earth, the manner in which we did so would be largely due to the skill of the flight crew. At least for the present we seemed to be maintaining the same height and the aircraft was level. That in itself was a relief.

“Good afternoon, everyone, this is the Captain speaking,” said a voice over the loudspeaker system. “You will be aware that we have had a mechanical incident, and as a result we've had to shut down one of our engines. I'd like to assure you that this aircraft is perfectly capable of flying on one engine.”

“So long as that one doesn't stop too,” muttered the passenger sitting next to me.

I gave him a steely glance, and somewhat to my surprise he appeared embarrassed and muttered: “Sorry, I suppose that wasn't a very helpful thing to say.”

The captain continued: “Your comfort and safety is our first concern and we have therefore decided to divert to Gander Airport in Newfoundland, where arrangements will be made for you to continue your journey to Boston in another aircraft. We apologise for any inconvenience this will cause you, and assure you that as soon as we land, we will arrange for you to contact anyone awaiting your arrival in Boston to let them know what has happened. In the meantime, please remain in your seats unless absolutely necessary, and keep your seatbelts fastened. Thank you.”

What is it about airline pilots? They always manage to sound so calm even in an emergency. I suppose they are trained to do that so that panic doesn't break out on board. After all, there was nothing anyone else could do but sit there and perhaps pray. For myself, I hoped that Mum and Dad had some influence so that their daughter's career was not going to come to a premature conclusion.

What the captain did not tell us was that Gander was chosen partly because it has a very long runway, ten thousand five hundred feet, originally installed for emergency landing by the Space Shuttle, but also because an aircraft with only one engine using reverse thrust needs a longer distance to stop after it touches down. This information I found out later.

It's a funny thing about being in a precarious position, it causes people's behaviour to change. When I had been shown to my seat, the one beside it was occupied by a handsome older man, in his early fifties at a guess, since his hair was greying at the temples. It doesn't seem fair that grey hair in a man makes him look 'distinguished' whereas in a woman it makes her look, well, old!

After a cursory 'Good morning', he had taken out his briefcase and buried his nose in some papers, totally ignoring me. I was a little surprised but supposed that this was the way people acted in First Class. Apart from speaking briefly to the cabin crew when he ordered his meal, he had maintained this silence, but now, with us no longer feeling quite as confident in a happy ending to our flight, suddenly my neighbour became talkative.

“You were right to reprove me for my comment before, which was uncalled for,” he said. “By the way, my name is Robert Redford, not the one of course. In fact I'm sure there are plenty of us around besides the actor. Most people call me Bob.”

I smiled. “I'm Harriet Staunton. I don't know if there are any other people around with my name, but as it turns out, I am an actor.”

Bob smiled. “Your face is familiar. Have you been on any television shows?”

'That's an old 'chat-up' line,' I thought.

“Very few,” I replied. “I spend most of my working life in theatres. I was recently playing in 'Much Ado About Nothing' at the Globe in London.”

“That's where I saw you!” he exclaimed. “I took my wife to a performance a few weeks ago for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. We enjoyed it very much. Are you going to Boston to perform?”

“Partly,” I said. “And partly to tutor a small theatre group on performing Shakespeare. They call it an 'artist-in-residence'. Well, that's me, may I ask what you do for a living?”

“Nothing so interesting. I'm a corporate lawyer and I'm travelling to advise a big company who are considering a take-over of another company.”

I smiled. “I've often thought of lawyers and courts as not being so very different from actors and theatres. The main difference, of course, is that you don't work from a script, so your job is probably harder than ours.”

“We may not work from a script, but we always have plenty of notes about what we wish to say in our arguments,” Bob said.

We chatted away amiably and didn't notice that we were nearing Newfoundland until it became obvious that the aircraft was gradually losing height.

The captain's voice came over the speakers again. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will be arriving at Gander Airport in about ten minutes. Please make sure that your seatbelts are securely fastened. We will be landing at a slightly faster speed than usual and it will take some time before we bring the aircraft to a halt, so please keep your seatbelts fastened until we arrive at the terminus and the cabin staff tell you that they can be removed.”

He was right, we did seem to be travelling quite fast when the wheels touched the ground, but this didn't stop a spontaneous cheer from many of the passengers. We heard the engine go into reverse-thrust mode, but it seemed a long time before the aircraft slowed to about walking pace and turned to taxi up to the terminal. When we walked down the steps to alight from the aircraft, I was reminded of one of the popes, John Paul II as I recall, who used to kiss the ground at each new country he visited. Perhaps he was a nervous flyer, but I'm sure quite a few of us were tempted to follow his example.

When we reached the terminal building, like many others, I took out my phone. My first call was to the Thompson residence, purely because Magnolia had told me that they were sending a car to pick me up, and I didn't want the driver to have a six-hour round trip for no purpose. The telephone was answered by an unfamiliar voice which I took to be a maid, and she informed me that both Mr and Mrs Thompson were not at home.

When I explained who I was and that I hoped to save the driver a wasted journey, she replied “Well Henry's already in Boston (she pronounced it more like 'Bawstin' and I realised I would have to get used to the accent), he dropped Mr Thompson at the airport this morning and is waiting to pick you up.”

I told her that I had no idea what time I would be arriving as a replacement aircraft would have to come to Gander to pick us up, and asked if she could contact him on his cell phone to let him know. All I could do was ring again as soon as I knew more details.

She promised to let Henry and Mrs Thompson know, and finished with the standard 'you have a nice day'.

I nearly laughed at that. It had certainly turned out a nicer day than it might have been!

I checked my watch which was still set to U.K. time and realised that Reggie would probably still be at a lecture, so instead I phoned Emma to tell her what had happened. She sounded quite alarmed even though I assured her that thanks to the skill of the pilot we were all fine.

“So what happens now?” she asked.

“Well they'll have to send another plane for us. You can't swap an engine in five minutes,” I replied. “I'm going to text Reggie but I'll ask him to ring you for the details in case he can't contact me.”

I composed a text which read 'Engine trouble. Landed at Gander so delayed. All fine. Love Harriet'

Within a minute the phone rang and it was Reggie, sounding very concerned. I assured him that I was fine, in fact we all were and that he wasn't to worry.

“They'll send another plane for us and the odds on something happening to that are very remote,” I said.

“Don't tempt fate!” was his reply. After a bit more chatting, I told him that I loved him and was missing him already, then I hung up and walked into the terminal building to find out what was happening. The first person I saw was Bob, waiting by the door.

“Oh there you are,” he said. “I thought you were lost. They've just made an announcement that we will be leaving on a replacement plane in about three hours, so how about a drink and something to eat? It's 'on the house' of course.”

With so much time to fill, I accepted his invitation and we walked into the café. It was packed with people from the flight and the staff were rushed off their feet. We had to share a table with a young couple and in a way I was glad. So far Bob had done nothing to arouse my concerns but I had heard of businessmen who use trips as the perfect opportunity to 'spread their wings' as it were, and I was also aware that some people think that actresses are 'easy'.

The couple introduced themselves as Evan and Mairwen and it was very evident when they opened their mouths that they came from Wales. We introduced ourselves and then we all perused the menu. The food wasn't up to the standard of First Class catering of course, but it appeared that it could fill an empty stomach satisfactorily. While we waited to be served we chatted.

“Is this your first visit to America?” ask Mairwen, and it appeared from the way she addressed us both that she thought we were a couple too.

“I've visited the States about ten times with my work,” said Bob, and I added “It's my third time.”

“Harriet's an actress and she's going to teach the natives how to perform Shakespeare,” Bob continued, much to my annoyance.

“They're quite capable I'm sure,” I cut in before he could say more. “There's plenty of groups already performing his plays here. I've just been asked to provide some tips.”

“May I ask who you usually work with?” said Mairwen.

“Mostly with the Imperial Shakespeare Company in Stratford-Upon-Avon,” I said.

“But she's just been at the Globe Theatre in London. My wife and I saw her perform there,” Rob cut in again. This was really getting most annoying, but I managed to keep my cool and my smile.

“Oh!” said Evan. “I thought you were a couple.”

I smiled. “No, we were just sitting next to each other when the 'incident' occurred.”

“That will certainly be something to tell our grandchildren, Mair, and on our honeymoon too!” Evan said to his new wife.

Mairwen blushed and I think Evan had put his foot in it.

“Is this your first trip to America?” I asked, trying to smooth things over.

“Yes, I have an aunt living in Boston, so we're going to see her first before going on to New York,” said Mairwen.

“Well I'm sure Bob can tell you about Boston; I haven't been there before. I'm not long married myself, and my husband Reggie took me to New York as a honeymoon surprise,” I said. “It's an amazing place, you'll love it.”

Evan and Mairwen looked at each other and smiled. It was delightful to see two people so much in love.

At that point Bob excused himself to go to the toilet and I took the opportunity to take my business card out of my handbag and handed it to them.

“I don't know if Shakespeare is your 'cup of tea', I know he isn't for everyone, but if you're ever in Stratford give me a call and if there's a play you'd like to see, I can get you a discount, whether or not I'm in it. By the way, not a word to Bob, alright?”

“Right you are,” said Evan as he put the card in his wallet.

“My husband Reggie has an aunt living in Swansea,” I said. “We drove around Gower, it's a beautiful place.”

“Nage ddim!* We're from Neath, not far away at all. If you're ever in Swansea again, give us a call,” said Evan. He wrote their names, Evan and Mairwen Thomas and their phone number of a table napkin that I placed in my handbag.

Bob returned to the table then, so the conversation turned to other things.

I had found out that the flying time from Gander to Boston was about two hours, so when our replacement aircraft landed and we were given a boarding time, I rang the Thompson household again to give them an estimated time of arrival. This time Magnolia Thompson had returned to the house, so I was put through to her.

“I'm sorry to hear your trip has had such a bad start,” she said. “Blossom told you that Henry is still in Boston, so I'll let him know when you are arriving. It's about a three hour drive back here so would you rather stay there overnight?”

“Thank you Mrs Thompson, but I'll sleep on the plane, so if it's no trouble for Henry, I'm happy for him to drive me to East Devon today.”

“As you wish, my dear,” she replied. “We have your room ready for you and we look forward to seeing you. Hiram had to make a trip to Lubbock, but he should be back in two days. Meanwhile you can settle in.”

To be continued.

* 'Nage ddim!', 'No indeed!' Welsh expression of surprise.

Many thanks once again to Louise Ann and Julia Phillips for spotting my 'typos', thus allowing me to correct them before publishing.

Chapter 12   Arriving in New England

Since we were boarding another aircraft, I rather hoped that I wouldn't find myself sitting next to Bob again, but wasn't entirely surprised to find that this was again our seating arrangement. Maybe they just copied it from the first flight. We chatted a bit and then scrolling through the movies on offer, I discovered an historical drama starring Dame Emily. I had seen the film before, but whenever I watched a good movie I made it a practice to watch it twice; the first time for pure enjoyment, and the second time to analyse the acting performances and see what I could learn from them.

It may seem that I overemphasise Dame Emily in my reminiscences, and there is a reason for this of course. I owed her so much for helping me in my career from the very start and many times since. Also, I am proud to call her a friend. However, there are other excellent female actors who appear on stage and screen, both in Britain and elsewhere and I don't for a moment neglect to learn all I can from their performances.

There was another good reason for watching that particular film. It nicely filled in the time we took to fly to Boston. I had already worked out what Bob's next move would be (men can be transparently obvious at times), and I was giving him very little time to make it. The film ended just as we were starting our descent to land at Boston, and right on cue, Bob leaned over to me and in a quiet voice asked if I'd like to exchange telephone numbers.

I acted as though I was surprised and replied as follows: “Bob, you are married and so am I. You have been a thoughtful and entertaining travelling companion, but I think for both our sakes that is where we should leave it, don't you?”

He looked disappointed, but to give him his due he didn't press the point and instead said: “I understand Harriet. I hope you'll forget what I just said and I trust you have a pleasant stay in America and that all goes well for you.”

“And I wish you the same,” I replied.

Bob was a handsome man. I'm sure he had made similar invitations to other women on his business trips and it seemed quite likely that some of them would have been accepted. It was not for me to judge but I knew that I could never have forgiven myself if I had succumbed to temptation. When we got out of our seats to leave the aircraft we shook hands and I permitted him to give me a kiss on the cheek which I hope salved his wounded pride at not making a conquest.

One advantage of being in First Class is that your luggage appears first and so clearing Customs is a good deal quicker than for the other classes of traveller. When I finally entered the Arrivals Hall, I had been told to look out for a tall African-American man dressed in a chauffeur's uniform and holding up a card with my name on it. It was very easy to identify Henry, since he was over six feet in height and easily the tallest of the men standing in the group waiting for their passengers.

I walked up to him and said “I'm Harriet Stow and you must be Henry.”

He smiled at me and said: “Yes Miss Stow, welcome to America. May I take your suitcase please?”

I was on the point of saying that I could manage when I realised that this was part of his job description and that I should let him do as he requested, so I handed it over. At least nowadays, suitcases have wheels; I had brought rather a large one along as I was staying for a couple of months and needed a number of outfits. Also, being a woman, I had made a point of not filling the case as I expected to buy some clothes while I was away.

Henry led me out of the terminal and walked over to what appeared to be a VIP parking area judging by the limousines. He stopped in front of a huge Cadillac, and I was suitably impressed.

“Wow, that's quite a 'Darth Vader',” I said. Henry turned to me with a puzzled expression.

“You know, big, black and shiny,” I said with a smile but it wasn't returned.

'Stop digging, Harriet,' I said to myself, and out loud. “Sorry, it was meant as a joke.”

“Oh, I see, Miss Stow, very amusing,” said Henry as he opened the boot (which I remembered should be called a 'trunk' in America) and lifted the heavy case as though it was a featherweight to put it inside.

There's something about men and their cars. Alright, strictly speaking, it wasn't Henry's car, but it might just as well have been, and my flippant remark had insulted the car and by extension Henry himself. The next thing he did was to open a rear door for me.

“Would you mind very much if I sat in the front with you?” I asked in what I hoped was a humble tone. “Sitting in the back would make me feel like royalty, and I'm far from that.”

“Sure, Miss Stow,” he said, apparently somewhat mollified and opened the front passenger's door for me.

When we were both sitting in our seats I said “Henry, I'm sorry about my remark just now. I don't want to get off on the wrong foot with you. Would you very much mind calling me Harriet, at least when no-one else is around? I don't know what the rules are in other circumstances, but I'll be guided by you.”

“Sure Miss Harriet,” he said with the ghost of a smile and it appeared that I had redeemed myself to some extent.

Henry started the car and the insulation was so good that I could hardly hear the engine. We 'glided' away from the parking lot, there really is no other expression which properly describes it, and headed out of Logan Airport. As we drove along I realised that Henry was deliberately choosing a route to take us through the city centre so that I could admire the buildings, some of which were obviously very historic. Henry informed me, much to my surprise, that Boston is the capital of the 'Commonwealth' of Massachusetts, one of four States to have this official title. He also said that with this area being known as New England, I could expect to see many areas with English names, including of course Boston itself which was founded by Puritan settlers from Britain back in 1630.

I let him talk while giving me the 'guided tour', but didn't engage him in too much conversation because I didn't want to distract him in the city traffic. Then he turned onto the Massachusetts Turnpike, Route 90, a magnificent six-lane dual-carriage highway, and we headed west out of the city and were soon in the countryside. Now I felt able to talk a little more. I started by complimenting the limousine.

“She gives an amazingly smooth ride,” I said. “I have a small car of my own, but it feels nothing like this. I suppose it's the long wheel base?”

“That's right Miss Harriet, that and the weight I guess.”

I decided to press him a little further. “I'm guessing you have a name for her?” I asked.

He glanced at me to gauge my expression, perhaps wondering if I would make fun of his response. He seemed reassured.

“Yes I do, she's called 'Annabel',” he replied.

“That's a lovely name. Did you name her after an old girlfriend?”

“Nothing like that. When I was at school, we had a teacher come out from England for a year and she introduced us to poetry which was kind of unusual for a working-class area. She seemed surprised that we'd never heard of a guy called Edgar Poe, because he was a native of Boston. Do you know him?”

“Edgar Allan Poe?” I said

“Yes, that's him. Well one of the poems she read us, it was 'Annabel' something.”

“Annabel Lee, I think,” I said. I didn't want to sound surprised that he didn't remember it.

“That's the one. It kind of stuck in my mind and when I was given this car, it was so beautiful, I decided that 'Annabel' was the name for her.”

I smiled: “Yes, it's a lovely poem.”

“Do you happen to know it?” he asked and I replied that it was many years since I last read it but I'd do my best, and so I recited it for him.

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

There was a long pause when I had finished, and the only sound was the quiet hum of the engine, and the sound of the tyres on the road.

Eventually, Henry said softly: “That was beautiful.” I saw him wipe a tear from his eye and I pretended not to notice.

“Yes, it's a lovely poem,” I replied.

“Not just that, it's the way you spoke the words. You have a real gift you know?”

“Thank you,” I replied. There was nothing else I could say; but Henry hadn't finished.

“How do you remember all those words, Miss Harriet?”

“Some people can sing beautifully, play a musical instrument or produce stunning paintings. My gift is to remember words and to act them out. I can't claim credit for it, it's just something that was given to me and I never take it for granted,” I replied.

Henry nodded in agreement.

We continued to chat as the miles rolled by and eventually I glanced at my watch and realised that we had been travelling for about ninety minutes and so must be about half-way to East Devon.

“I'm rather thirsty. I wouldn't mind stopping for a coffee,” I said. I realised that a request from me amounted to an order and I didn't want to make it sound that way: “Would you know somewhere where we can pull off the road?” I was sure that Henry, having travelled this route many times would know every inch of the highway.

“There's a rest area about ten minutes further ahead, Miss Harriet. I often stop off there,” he said.

“That sounds good to me,” I replied. “Maybe I'll have something to eat too since we still have a way to go. Do you know if I'll be getting a meal when we arrive at East Devon?”

Henry smiled: “I'm counting on it. Ellen's an amazing cook.”

A little further down the road, Henry pulled off the highway into the rest area and parked the car. After he stepped out of the car he walked around to the passenger door and opened it for me. I thanked him as I stepped out. I really wasn't used to someone opening a car door for me, but took it to be part of his job so accepted it.

As we walked towards the building, Henry said: “I suggest 'Dunkin Donuts', they have amazing coffee.”

I made no objection, so that's where we went.

I suspected that this was one of Henry's regular stops and this was confirmed when the woman behind the counter said: “Hi Henry, the usual?”

“Please,” replied Henry. “Donna, may I introduce Miss Harriet Stow from England? She's visiting to do some consultancy work at Mr Thompson's theatre.” I should mention at this point that during my conversation with Henry, I had indicated that I had no objection to him telling anyone why I was in America.

Donna held out her hand: “Pleased to meet you, Miss Stow. Your first time in America?”

“My third time actually; the first time was a tour with a theatre company, and the second time was to New York on my honeymoon early this year. I'm here for longer this time and I'm really looking forward to it.”

“Well I hope you enjoy your stay. Now, what can I get you?”

“I'd like a white coffee and a jam doughnut please,” I replied.

Donna looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face.

“A regular coffee and a jelly donut, please,” said Henry, acting as an interpreter. He started to take out his wallet and I said “No Henry, it's my shout.”

Henry looked at me bewildered. “Sorry Henry, it's a phrase I picked up from my Australian aunt, it means I'll pay.”

Henry laughed. “I thought shouting was something that actors do.” We all burst out laughing.

“So we have three countries divided by a single language,” I said. “By the way, how did you know what I was trying to order?”

“Well Miss Harriet, you’re not the first British artist we’ve entertained here, so I’ve learned the language differences over the years. For example, if you had asked for a biscuit, I would have told Donna that you wanted a cookie.”

My thoughts still being in food, I said: “Henry, you mentioned Ellen the cook; are there many staff at the house?”

“Just four; besides myself and Ellen, there's Blossom, my wife who acts as housemaid and Rodrigo the gardener. It's not like your stately homes in England.”

Back on the road again with my hunger pangs assuaged, we had about ninety minutes more to travel, and I actually dozed off for a while. Henry, fortunately, stayed wide awake. When I finally awoke I realised that we were now on a two-lane road.

Henry glanced at me: “Not long now Miss Harriet.”

About ten minutes later, we turned off the road and drove through some impressive-looking gates and up a long driveway.

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.

Chapter 13   'Tara'

When the house came into view I gasped. It wasn't a house, it was a mansion, and what's more it looked strangely familiar. I suddenly realised that it was a copy of the mansion at the cotton plantation 'Tara' in the film 'Gone with the Wind”. I knew Hiram Thompson was well off, but here was a statement of just how rich he was and presumably a nod to his origins.

The driveway ended in a circle in front of the house and Henry drove anticlockwise so that when he stopped beside the front door and assisted me to alight, I didn't have to walk around the car. As the door opened I half expected to see Vivien Leigh as Scarlett O'Hara appear in the doorway in one of those fabulous 'antebellum' gowns! What I really saw was Magnolia Thompson who, while she was dressed smartly as always, looked strangely out of place and time. She hurried down the steps to meet me.

“My dear, I am so glad to see you. What a dreadful journey you had! Please come in.”

I smiled: “Actually it was a very comfortable trip until the engine blew up, but the Captain was very good and calmly explained to us that the plane was perfectly capable of flying on one engine, so we all stayed calm.”

Magnolia smiled: “Ah, the famous British 'stiff upper lip'.”

I laughed. “Probably above a quivering lower one! I'm sure our hearts were beating a lot faster, but if the Captain was calm, then it was up to us to do the same. There was nothing that the passengers could do about it anyway.”

“Well the main thing is that you're here now, and very welcome. I'm sorry Hiram couldn't be here to greet you but he had to fly to Lubbock to sort out a problem with the business. He should be back in a couple of days at most. In the meantime, you can settle in and get over your jetlag. I'll show you to your room.”

Magnolia led me through the entrance hall at the back of which was a magnificent flight of stairs, much like in the 'GWTW' film. Standing at the foot was a handsome African-American woman who was introduced to me as 'Blossom, Henry's wife'.

“Blossom runs the house and will look after you while you're here,” said Magnolia.

“I'm pleased to meet you Miss Stow,” said Blossom. Once again I asked to be called Harriet, so for the rest of my stay I was 'Miss Harriet'.

Henry then walked into the house, carrying my suitcase. We all ascended the stairs and I was led to my room. It was hard not to gasp when I walked through the door. The room looked like something from the Palace of Versailles, beautifully furnished with a large ornate double bed, matching dressing table and chair, and much more wardrobe space than my suitcase of clothes needed. There was also an adjacent private bathroom which was very convenient.

“What a beautiful room!” I exclaimed and Magnolia and Blossom smiled, obviously pleased by how impressed I was.

“Ellen will have supper ready in about an hour, so we'll leave you to freshen up,” she said. Henry placed my suitcase on a stand, and they all left the room.

My first task was to ring Reggie and let him know that I had arrived safely. While I was in America I had to remember that I was now five hours behind England. Where I was it was six o'clock in the evening now but eleven o'clock over there, and despite Reggie telling me to ring him anytime day or night, I didn't want to get him out of bed. He did sound a little sleepy when he answered the phone but was pleased to hear that there had been no more mishaps on my journey. I gave him my love and told him I was missing him already, which was true and he said he felt the same. I should mention at this point that I was in touch with him every day. If I couldn't ring him because of the time difference then we exchanged texts

After that, I unzipped the suitcase and taking out my clothes, hung my skirts and dresses in the wardrobe, placed my tops, blouses and lingerie in the dressing table drawers, and put my makeup on top. I decided that after the eventful trip, more than a 'freshen up' was needed. I placed my toiletries in the bathroom, undressed and had a shower, after which I felt greatly refreshed.

I dressed in a skirt and top since the house was very warm, and after attending to my make-up and hair, I left my room and walked down the stairs. I heard music coming from a room off the hall and walked in there to be greeted by Magnolia Thompson.

“Feeling better?” she enquired, and I nodded and smiled. I was offered a sherry before supper and agreed in order to be polite although I rarely drink alcohol; still 'when in Rome' as the saying goes. After some conversation, a gong sounded indicating that supper was about to be served, so we walked into the dining room.

It was a large room, and could comfortably seat at least twenty people at the huge table. Two places had been set at one end, so it was obvious that only Magnolia and I would be eating there. Presumably, the staff had their meal in the kitchen area.

Ellen came in and introduced herself. She was carrying the first course which was a Caesar salad. This was followed by Scallops Rockefeller, served with a Pinot Grigio wine, which was dry and light, I don't claim to be a wine expert but even I sensed that it complemented the dish perfectly. Finally, we had strawberry cheesecake and coffee. When Ellen appeared with the coffee I made a point of complimenting her on the excellent meal. I could see that I would have to watch my weight while in America if all the meals were like this!

“Hiram left a couple of DVDs of recent performances by the theatre group in case you would like to get an idea of their standard,” said Magnolia. “You don't have to watch them right the way through of course.”

I would love to have passed on them for my first night since my body clock was already telling me it was past midnight, but again, I felt that out of politeness I had to agree to her suggestion.

If I had thought about it, I would not have been surprised when instead of switching on one of the many televisions dotted around the house, Magnolia led me to a door marked 'Theater'. I remember once seeing a picture of the theatrette in the White House, and while much smaller, this one seemed to be based on it. There were four rows of four large comfortable armchairs, each with a small tray on one arm for drinks and snacks. The general décor was a deep red colour on the walls and ceiling and the screen, which turned out to be cinema-shaped and quite large, was hidden behind red velvet curtains which parted as the show began. Magnolia mentioned that Henry doubled as the projectionist.

Magnolia and I took our seats, the lights dimmed, and the first production which was 'Hamlet' appeared on the screen. Once I became used to Hamlet with American accents, I began to appreciate that the acting was quite a high standard. I shouldn't have been surprised at that, after all, I wasn't the first 'artist-in-residence' to have been brought there by Hiram.

I made a mental note of a few points that I would have worked on, and after it had been running for about ten minutes, I asked Magnolia if we could skip to Act Four Scene Five, featuring Ophelia and Queen Gertrude, since, apart from the Player Queen, usually played by a young man, these are the only two female roles in the play. She pressed a button on the arm of the chair and spoke into a microphone, and the scene duly appeared on the screen. This is where Ophelia has been driven mad and having played the role myself, and Queen Gertrude for that matter, I was keen to see how the actresses handled it. I was very impressed and couldn't think of any improvement that I might suggest, but thought it best to keep that to myself!

When the scene ended, Magnolia asked if I would like to watch some of the other disk which was 'The Merry Wives of Windsor'. This has more female rôles, and since I was told that most of the cast were still current players with the group, it was interesting to see their standard.

Sitting there in very comfortable chairs in the warmth and dark, the inevitable happened. I awoke with a start. The lights were on, and Magnolia was looking at me in a solicitous fashion.

“Oh, I'm sorry!” I gasped. “I think I must have nodded off. It wasn't because of the performance, I think jetlag is catching up with me.”

“Of course, my dear,” said Magnolia. “I should have thought of that. Can you find your room alright or would you like me to guide you there?”

I assured her I could find it. I walked up the stairs to my room and in no time I had undressed, put on my nightdress, got into bed and was fast asleep.

The following morning I awoke at about eight o'clock. I had intended to ring Reggie before he left for the university, but of course it was far too late for that. When I looked at my phone, there was a text from him saying: 'Hello sleepyhead hope you are feeling better after a good night's rest. Will talk to you tonight. Love R'

I sent a text back: 'Much better ty. I may have missed breakfast. Love H'

I had a quick shower, dressed and walked down the stairs to the dining room. Marigold was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and 'The Boston Globe'. She looked up when I appeared.

“Good morning, Harriet. How are you feeling now?”

“Much better Mrs Thompson, I really needed that sleep. I'm guessing I missed breakfast, but perhaps I can have a cup of coffee.”

“Nonsense, my dear. Ellen asked me to let her know when you came down. Does bacon and eggs with toast appeal to you?”

“Very much so,” I replied. When Ellen appeared, in answer to her query, I chose 'sunny side up' as opposed to 'over easy' for the eggs. Fortunately, I had seen enough American films to know what these terms meant.

“I've spoken to Hiram this morning. He'll be back late afternoon, and he was glad to hear that you had arrived safely with no more dramas,” said Magnolia.

' Poor Henry, another six-hour trip,' I thought and as if reading my mind Magnolia said: “Sometimes he hires a helicopter from Boston, but he does quite enjoy the drive with Henry if he's been away a while, as he can catch up on all the news. Fortunately, Henry enjoys driving.” She hesitated for a moment. “I'll show you around the house and garden if you like. I won't take you through the theatre as it's Hiram's pride and joy and he'll want to show it you himself. He's very proud of it.”

Magnolia's coded comment was that I should praise the theatre no matter what I thought of it. To show I understood I said: “I'm sure it will be very impressive. I'm really looking forward to seeing it.”

I was reminded of that saying common amongst women 'The difference between men and boys is the cost of their toys.' Having your own theatre was a very expensive toy, but Hiram could obviously afford it.

After breakfast, Magnolia showed me around the house. There was an enormous room which looked like a ballroom, complete with a stage at one end, presumably for musicians. I wondered if I might be called upon to perform there.

“Every year, we have a 'Gone with the Wind' ball here and everyone dresses up in costume. It's a very colorful affair, and it will take place while you are here, so I hope you will participate,” said Magnolia.

“I'd love to,” I replied. “I've always imagined myself as 'Scarlett O'Hara'.”

Magnolia smiled: “I think we all have, ever since seeing the film. We have quite a collection of 'antebellum' gowns and I'm sure we'll find one to fit you.”

“I'll look forward to that very much indeed,” I replied.

After seeing the house, we walked outside and I was introduced to Rodrigo the gardener. He was a very handsome Hispanic-looking young man and judging by the look of the gardens, very good at his job. Then Magnolia drove us down to the local town of East Devon. When I say 'town' it was more of a 'hamlet' as we would say in England, with just a single street of stores to cater for the people in the surrounding neighborhood. There was one disproportionately large brick building constructed in the Art Deco style, in the centre of the street.

“That's the theatre,” said Magnolia as we drove past.

We called into a small café, where I demonstrated my improving local knowledge by asking for a 'regular coffee and a brownie'. I am one of those fortunate people who can eat sweet things without it going to my hips.

Henry had already left for Boston when we returned to the house and I asked Magnolia if she minded if I had a 'siesta', so that I would not be falling asleep over the table when Hiram returned. I called him 'Mr Thompson' of course. I didn't know what the situation was about addressing my host and hostess so decided to err on the side of caution. I went to my room where I discovered that the bed had been made for me and enjoyed a pleasant two hours' sleep. It was like living in a five-star hotel and I cautioned myself about not getting too used to it. The time would come when I was back in England and having to do things for myself.

Blossom knocked on the door and woke me to say that Henry and Hiram were due in about forty-five minutes, thus giving me time to get dressed. I had a quick shower and selected one of my few dresses to wear as I presumed we would be sitting down to a meal when they arrived. After attending to my hair and makeup, I went downstairs to where Magnolia was enjoying her regular pre-dinner sherry. I had only been there about ten minutes when we heard the crunch of tyres on gravel signalling the arrival of the limousine, and we both went to the front door to greet the arrivals.

Hiram bounded up the steps and kissed his wife and then turning to me kissed me on the cheek.

“Welcome to 'Tara', Harriet. I hope you are being well looked after?” he said.

“Yes indeed,” I replied. “Everyone has been very kind. Mrs Thompson has shown me around the house and garden and we went to East Devon for a coffee.”

“Did you see the theatre?” he asked.

“Just the exterior. It looks very impressive,” I replied, “I'm really looking forward to seeing inside.”

“East Devon is a nice little town, but if you want to do some serious shopping I'll ask Henry to drive you either to Springfield, or to Albany, which is the capital of New York State,” said Hiram.

“Really?” I said. “I always assumed that New York City was the capital of New York State.”

“Many people do,” replied Hiram. “Albany is a beautiful city of around eighty thousand people and a great shopping centre.”

“I imagine I'll be too busy to do much shopping,” I replied.

Hiram laughed. “I'm sure we can make some time for you; I'll be in big trouble with Magnolia if I don't. She loves shopping with another woman. Tomorrow I'll take you to see the theatre and also the actors you'll be working with.”

“I saw some of their work on the recordings you left and they seem to be very good.”

“I'm glad you think so, but what I'm hoping for from you is some 'master-classes',” said Hiram, beaming at my compliment. “There wouldn't be any point in bringing you over to teach beginners.”

With that he went up to his room to change for supper, leaving Magnolia and I to continue with our sherries and chat.

“I do hope I can produce the sort of results he's hoping for,” I said, starting to feel a little worried.

“My dear, if you can make them half as good as you are, he'll be more than satisfied. I watched your 'Juliet' and I confess you brought tears to my eyes,” said Magnolia.

I smiled: “That's very kind of you. All I can do is my best.”

Just then, Hiram came down the stairs and we went in for supper. Fortunately, he was a bit tired after his quick trip to Texas, so there was no talk of watching more videos of the theatre company. I can't say I was disappointed, as I needed my sleep too.

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.

Chapter 14   The Theatre

The following morning I was up at seven o'clock, more my usual time of rising, and after breakfast, where I decided to try my eggs 'over easy' for a change, Hiram said he would drive us both to the theatre. I was glad in a way that Henry wasn't driving us in 'Annabel' as I didn't want to appear to the citizens of East Devon like 'Lady Muck' as a friend of mine used to call people who wished to appear 'posh'. I thought Magnolia might have come too, but she begged off, citing things she had to attend to in the house.

We walked out to the six-car garage which was about the size of a medium size house in England, and Hiram selected a Jeep 'Grand Cherokee', which was quite a sizeable vehicle but nothing like 'Annabel'. We got in and drove down to East Devon, where Hiram pulled up in front of the theatre. I've always been a fan of Art Deco and hoped that the interior might be in the same style.

Hiram turned to me and smiled: “It was built as the town cinema about seventy years ago by two men who were overly optimistic in their expectations of how large East Devon would become. It passed through the hands of a number of owners and always struggled to make a profit.

“Eventually it closed down and lay empty for a number of years. There was talk of converting it to shops or even pulling it down, and that's where I stepped in. I managed to get a look inside and decided that even in its dilapidated state it was far too beautiful to destroy. I'd had a desire to start a Shakespeare company for a number of years, and this was the ideal place rather than building a theatre from scratch. I made the owners an offer and they jumped at it. I guess I paid too much! It took several years to restore but I think it was worth it. Come along, I'll show you inside.”

We walked through the lobby and bar area and into the auditorium. I let out an involuntary gasp, it was so beautiful and all decorated in the Art Deco style with an amazingly ornate ceiling, walls, proscenium and lamps. What's more, it had a thrust stage, perfect for playing Shakespeare. I suspected that this was a recent modification. The whole restoration must have cost a fortune but luckily Hiram had the money to spend on it.

“What a beautiful theatre!” I exclaimed and it was obvious from the look on Hiram's face that I had said exactly the right thing, and what's more that I meant it.

“We've made some recent modifications, adding the thrust stage. We've lost some seats of course, but the theatre capacity is still six hundred people and it was worth doing it in order to present Shakespeare in the manner in which the plays were presented at the Globe. The world's best playwright deserves to have his work performed in a quality setting,” he said. “I'll introduce you to the administrative staff and Artistic Director first and then you'll meet the players.”

We walked out through a side door and up some stairs to an office.

Two men and a woman turned as we walked through the door. All three were older than me and it occurred to me that they must surely be thinking 'What on earth is Hiram doing hiring such a young woman?' If those were their true thoughts, they masked them with welcoming smiles.

“Lady and gentlemen, may I present Miss Harriet Stow, our new 'artist-in-residence', all the way from Stratford-upon-Avon in England?” said Hiram.

He introduced each person in turn: “This is Miranda Strange, our Artistic Director; Nigel Wiseman is the General Manager and Morton Goldman is our Chief Financial Officer. I've invited them all to dinner this evening so that you can get to know them better. Obviously you'll be working with Miranda most of the time, but Nigel and Morton are important in ensuring that the theatre runs efficiently and balances its books.”

As he introduced each of the three I shook their hands and said “Pleased to meet you.” To the two men I said “I've been working in the theatre long enough to know that it wouldn't exist without gentlemen such as yourselves working behind the scenes to make sure that the enterprise turns a profit. I'm one of those fortunate people who walks on stage and gets the applause, but I know how important your rôle is too.”

That might sound like flattery, but I knew only too well that such praise from a young woman who was moderately comely in appearance and speaking to older men, could not fail to have the desired effect. Miranda knew what I was doing of course, but she gave no indication of it. Doubtless she had used the same tactics herself.

Introductions over, Hiram said: “Miranda, would you mind taking Harriet down to meet the actors while I have some discussions with Nigel and Morton?”

“Certainly, Hiram,” she said and led me from the office. Once safely out of earshot she said “They don't want us to bother our 'pretty little heads' over financial matters.”

I laughed: “Early in my career I heard someone else use those exact same words. I do hope that the theatre is not struggling financially?”

Miranda laughed now: ”Fortunately we have a very rich benefactor, although I think we do just about break even.”

“It's like that in many British theatres,” I said. “Fortunately the ISC and Stratford theatres are so popular with tourists as well as locals, they are very comfortable financially.”

“That's largely due to the quality of your productions,” said Miranda. “I had the privilege of seeing you perform in 'Romeo and Juliet'. Hiram sent me over to check you out before asking you to come over here. I hope you don't mind?”

“Not in the least,” I replied. “I just hope that I am able to make a contribution to your company. I know I'm rather younger than your previous resident artists and I hope that won't be held against me. Mr Thompson seemed to think it was a good idea.”

“I'm sure he's right. You may be young but you British have Shakespeare in your bones, and spending so much time in Stratford-Upon-Avon must surely have made you absorb him even more.”

I halted: “Miranda, would you mind if we spoke a bit more before I meet the actors?”

“Sure,” she replied, leading me to a comfortable padded bench seat in the corridor which led to the Circle.

I decided to be straight with her: “You know that this is my first experience of being a 'resident artist' whereas you have had others before me. I will do my very best to make my stay a success, but I will need your help in giving the actors what they want and need. I expect to learn things from them too, so it won't be all one-way traffic.”

Miranda smiled: “Yes we've had other artists here; some had a successful stay and some not so successful. You will be the youngest so far, and I think that will help you because you're just about the same age as most of the actors. Speaking of which, why don't we go down so that I can introduce you to them?”

We walked down the stairs and through a doorway leading into the auditorium. A number of young men and women were standing on the stage chatting with each other, and they stopped when we appeared.

Miranda led me up the steps onto the stage and said: “Good morning everyone, may I introduce Harriet Stow, our new resident artist? Harriet is currently working with the Imperial Shakespeare Company in Stratford-upon-Avon. I'm sure we are all looking forward to working with her on our latest productions of 'Romeo and Juliet', and 'Much Ado About Nothing'. Harriet, would you like to say a few words? Perhaps you can tell us a bit about your approach to performing Shakespeare, especially Juliet?”

I looked at the twenty or so expectant faces. This was it!

“Good morning everyone. I'm very much looking forward to working with you, and from the start I would like you to address me as Harriet. I'm fairly good with names, so I hope to remember yours within a few days, but thank you for wearing name tags, that was very thoughtful. I was glad to hear that the two plays we will be workshopping together are a tragedy and a comedy. I have performed in both these plays recently so I'm quite familiar with them.

“It's no secret that Shakespeare is my favourite playwright. That's because his plays don't date, unlike others which are far more modern. We can all relate to the themes today, which just goes to show that human nature hasn't changed much.

“'Romeo and Juliet' takes place in the thirteen hundreds, so it was an historic play for Shakespeare's audience too, something which is not always appreciated. We are told that Juliet is nearly fourteen which seems a very young age to marry, but she belonged to a nobleman's house so an arranged marriage is partly for dynastic reasons. As soon as a young noblewoman reached 'menarche', that is, had her first period, then she was considered old enough to marry and have children. This was one of the reasons for the high mortality rate among young brides, as their bodies were really not developed enough to bear children.

“Romeo's age isn't given but we can assume that he is several years older or Juliet wouldn't have fallen in love with him. Boys, after all, mature more slowly than girls.” This produced some laughter from all the listeners, even the young men present. “No-one as young as the characters ever plays the parts as it requires actors who are more mature and skillful, but there is a time limit on how old they can be, so I am making the most of my opportunities while I can still play Juliet. In fact, I'm scheduled to do so again, later this year.

“I'm sure that none of us is too old to forget our first love and what an effect it had on us. We spent almost every waking moment thinking about them and counting the hours until we could see them again. We might even have thought that we would die if we couldn't see them again.

“Their youth explains some of Romeo and Juliet's hasty decision-making, and of course that final decision that they cannot live without each other. In the background is the hatred between their families, going back so far that they probably can't even remember what started it, and in fact we are not told what it is, only that it is an 'ancient grudge'.

“The clash between the 'star-cross'd lovers' and their much older parents is another thing we can relate to. 'Old Capulet' as he is described, arranges a marriage for his daughter and when she objects, he treats her as a possession and insists that his will be obeyed. This is a crucial error on his part, since, as a result, she and Romeo arrange their marriage after only knowing each other for two days.

“I could go on, but this sounds like it's turning into a lecture. One of the unusual things about this play is the character called 'Chorus' coming on-stage at the start of the first and second acts and revealing in a sonnet, what we would now term a 'spoiler', telling the audience what is going to happen. This probably doesn't matter since I doubt if one percent of the audience doesn't know the ending of the play, but it does mean that as actors we must be as convincing as possible in our portrayal of the characters. I'll let you into a secret; if at the end of the play I didn't see some of the women and perhaps even a few of the men in the audience wiping their eyes then I'd know that I had failed.”

“And has this happened to you, I mean not seeing them wipe their eyes?” asked one of the young people.

“Not so far, but there's always a first time,” I replied, smiling. “That brings me to something I'd like to tell every actor to remember for their whole career; and I constantly remind myself of it; we play the same part a number of times in a season, but each audience only sees us perform it once, so we owe it to them to make it the best performance we have ever done.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the actors and it seemed my advice had hit home.

“On that note, I see that Mr Thompson is waiting for me, so I'll look forward to seeing you all again tomorrow at rehearsal.”

Before I left the stage Miranda took me aside: “You've made a good first impression,” she murmured quietly. “I'm sure we're all going to get on just fine.”

When we reached the car, Mr Thompson said: “Have you had any experience of driving on the right side of the road?”

“No I haven't,” I replied. “Even though I do have an international driving licence.”

“So why don't you drive us back? It's quite a straightforward route. If you are comfortable with it, you can borrow this car to drive down to the theatre on your own if you wish to do so.”

I stepped into the car, which was an automatic, and the first thing I was pleased to see was that the accelerator was on the right of the brake pedal, just like the cars back in England. Hiram sat beside me and pointed out the various controls like the turning indicator and windscreen wipers attached to the steering column, which were in the reverse position of what I was used to. I started the engine, checked the mirrors, started the windscreen wipers by mistake and drove off very cautiously. However by the time we reached Tara, I was feeling more confident.

“You're doing fine,” said Hiram.”So what do you think? Are you happy to drive yourself to East Devon?”

I could tell that he wanted me to say 'Yes', and in fact I thought I could do it without much trouble, so I agreed.

In the evening, Miranda, Neil and Morton were coming to dinner, so I had a short siesta during the afternoon and then had a shower and dressed for dinner. I had consulted Magnolia about what I should wear. I showed her my sparse wardrobe and said that I thought I should get some more clothes. She pointed to a tea-length dress I had brought and said: “That's very pretty, why don't you wear that?” I agreed with her. It was a two-piece sleeveless lace dress, deep blue in colour with a full skirt. It was elegant without being 'over the top'. I wore it with stockings and also six-inch heels in a matching colour. When I came downstairs, Magnolia told me that it was perfect for the evening.

When the three guests arrived, the men were wearing suits and ties, and Miranda was wearing a beautiful dress, so we women complimented each other on our choice, and the men gallantly said that they were privileged to be dining with such beauties. American men are certainly practised in saying the right thing.

The meal was excellent and Ellen was complimented on it. During the conversation, I was subjected to a gentle grilling on my background and the experience I had on the stage and also directing. During the talk, my friendship with Dame Emily came out and I'm sure that impressed them, as did some of the other famous names I had performed with.

“I'm sure our troupe will benefit greatly from your presence,” said Neil, and the others nodded in agreement.

“I certainly hope I can make a contribution and also learn from them,” I replied. “Every production I take part in is a learning experience.”

“What about television?” asked Miranda. “Have you had any experience there?”

“I've only been in two productions so far,” I replied. “I had a tiny part in 'Under Milk Wood' as 'Mae Rose Cottage', with a rather doubtful Welsh accent and also a small speaking rôle, 'Sylvie', in one of the BBC's 'bonnet dramas', Charlotte Brönte's first novel “The Professor”, which hardly anyone has heard of. It's very different to acting on stage; there's a lot of waiting around for scenes to be set up.”

“How were the ratings?” asked Morton.

“Quite good I believe, although the BBC being a public broadcaster does not rely on them so much since it doesn't have commercials. Still, they do like their programs to be successful since they are spending public money.”

The conversation turned to the plays that Hiram's company had been performing recently, which included 'Twelfth Night' and 'Henry V'. Eventually, Miranda looked at her watch and said that it was time she was going as there was going to be a rehearsal the next morning.

The three guests stood up and thanked Magnolia and Hiram for a most enjoyable evening. Miranda said she looked forward to seeing me the following morning, and they left the house. I told Magnolia and Hiram that it had been a lovely evening and then I went to bed.

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.

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!”

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.”

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.”

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.

Chapter 16   Planning a gala performance

Richard Jenkins laughed: “Well I thought I might get a more cordial reception than that!” he said. He bounded across the room, took my free hand and planted a kiss on my glowing cheek.

“I'm sorry, Richard, it was just so unexpected to see you here. I thought you were over in L.A. shooting a film.”

“I was,” he said. “It ran surprisingly smoothly, no 'creative differences' and we've finished early. I was on my way back to Britain, but when I heard that you were here, I couldn't miss the opportunity to stop off and say 'hello'.” He looked at me and smiled: “I must say that married life seems to suit you, you looking more radiant than ever. Reggie is a lucky man.”

I was recovering my composure by now and responded: “You should try marriage yourself some time.”

“Ah me! The only woman I ever truly loved went off and married someone else,” he said in a melodramatic fashion, raising his hand to his forehead in true 'silent film' style.

“She must have been very sensible,” I replied and suddenly realising that Magnolia was an interested observer of all this banter, and making goodness knows what of it, I said: “Richard, I don't believe you've met Mrs Thompson?”

Turning to her, he said: “Mrs Thompson, I'm so sorry; you must think me very rude ignoring my hostess. Thank you so much for inviting me to your lovely home.” I could hardly believe it when he took her hand and raised it to his lips.

She laughed, and there was a faint tinge of pink on her cheeks when she said: “You're very welcome, Richard, and please, call me Magnolia.”

“Magnolia! What a lovely name,” he said, and I'm sure that tinge of pink on her cheek deepened.

The trouble with Richard is that he is so devastatingly handsome, and what's more he knows it and uses it to great effect. Women, from teenagers to those in their eighties go weak at the knees when subjected to the full force of his charm. To be honest I can't say I am totally immune myself.

Fortunately, at that moment Hiram entered the room.

“Good evening, darling,” he said to Magnolia, kissing her on the cheek and turning to me said: “Well, Harriet, was that a surprise?”

“It certainly was,” I replied. “A nice surprise. I thought Richard was in Hollywood.”

At that moment, with a timing that could not have been bettered, the dinner gong sounded.

Ellen had excelled herself; we started with a baked French onion soup topped with toast and melted cheese. The main course was roast beef with potatoes and onions cooked in the same pan, with asparagus spears. This was followed by a tossed salad with cherry tomatoes, sliced onions, cucumber and celery, topped with croutons and balsamic vinigrette dressing. The dessert was blueberry cheesecake. How could I ever go back to baked beans on toast again?

Fortunately, by now I was learning to handle the meals, delicious though they were, by having relatively small portions. The scales awaited me each morning and showed no movement as yet and that's the way I wanted it to stay. During the meal we chatted generally about a variety of topics. Now I am blonde and I was quite young then, but even I wasn't so dumb that I didn't suspect there was more to Richard arriving than just wanting to see me. As we concluded our meal the front door bell rang, and a minute later, Miranda joined us. Now my suspicions were confirmed.

Miranda was introduced to Richard, with the usual reaction showing on her cheeks and it was obvious to me that his presence was no surprise to her. We all went into the lounge room where we sat down and coffee and liqueurs were served

Hiram said: “Right, now we're all together, I have a proposal to put to you all. As you know, our theatre company is currently rehearsing Romeo and Juliet, with two of the local actors in the title rôles. However, Harriet and Richard have made a name for themselves playing those parts, and I would love to present them to the New England community. Richard has informed me that he is available just before Harriet finishes her residency, so what I'm proposing, if you all agree, is that we present a special 'gala performance' of 'Romeo and Juliet' with Harriet and Richard in the title rôles.

“It wouldn't be in the East Devon theatre of course, the demand for tickets would be far too high. In fact I'm thinking of presenting it at Tanglewood Estate which isn't too far from here, either in the Seiji Ozawa Hall which holds twelve hundred people, or even the Koussevitzky Music Shed, which seats nearly six thousand. What do you think?”

Richard said: “Well I haven't seen the venues of course, but I'm all for it. What about you Harriet?”

I felt that I had been painted into a corner. It wasn't that I didn't want to do it, I just felt a bit miffed about being effectively ambushed. Perhaps I was still naïve and this was the way business was done. I had no option but to agree, and really I did want to do it, I would just like to have been consulted first. Did Hiram think I would refuse?

“I'd be happy to do it. My agent would have to be notified of course, since it isn't part of my contract,” I said, determined to show them that I wasn't a push-over.

“Naturally,” said Hiram. “And I can assure you, you'll be adequately compensated for the extra work.”

“Regarding the venue, I wonder if the smaller hall might be better,” I said. “I did perform in Singapore in a large stadium where they used video screens because we were so far from some of the audience that they would have found it difficult to see us without a telescope. We also had to use microphones, and to me that takes away from the immediacy of the actor/audience relationship.”

“Hmm. I see what you mean,” said Hiram. “Would you be willing to do a matinée as well if there is an overwhelming demand for tickets?”

“Rather than the large auditorium? Yes I would, but that's just my personal view. There's one other thing,” I said. “I appreciate that the whole point of the exercise is that Richard and I play the title rôles; however, while the rest of the East Devon cast will be needed, it seems unfair that Julie and James won't be required and will have to sit out the performance.”

“I've been thinking about that,” said Hiram. “How about we make them the official understudies for the night and compensate them, Miranda? They could also act as extras in some of the scenes if they want.”

“Julie or James could take on the part of 'Chorus',” I suggested. “It's a very small part, but it would give them the opportunity to have a speaking rôle too. There are Prologues to Acts One and Two, so perhaps they could perform one each?”

“An excellent idea don't you think, Miranda?” said Hiram. I realised he was so keen to have me act with Richard that he would agree to almost anything I said. I decided I had pushed him far enough; anyway, I had achieved what I wanted.

After a final coffee, and as they were leaving Miranda took the opportunity to have a brief word with me: “Well done! You handled Hiram superbly for one so young. Regarding Julie and James, leave it to me to let them know. I'll explain that you and Richard aren't taking over their parts, since without you two there would be no gala performance. I'll also tell them that you went into bat for them and I'll suggest they do the Prologues. It's a rare opportunity to act in front of so many people even if it is only for a few minutes.”

I took her hand: “Thanks Miranda, I really appreciate your support.”

“And I yours,” she replied and kissed me on the cheek.

That evening I was in bed running through the script and making some notes, when there was a tap on the door.

“Come in,” I said expecting it to be Magnolia or Blossom and was surprised to see it was Richard.

“Richard!” I hissed. “What are you doing here? If the Thompsons see you my reputation will be shot.”

He grinned: “I paused outside their bedroom doors. There were gentle snores from Magnolia, and Hiram's were rattling the windows, so no problem there.”

I instinctively drew the sheet further up my chest, and Richard's smile broadened: “You have nothing to fear from me, Harriet, I'm no Tarquin. I merely wanted to apologise for being part of the conspiracy that ambushed you. However, I'd like you to know that I had no idea that you were in the dark about the 'gala performance'.”

“I really didn't think you were part of it. Hiram could have told me that was the reason you were visiting here, but it seems he wanted to surprise me and have his little joke. I'm actually quite happy to do it, but on my own terms. I imagine my agent will be twisting his arm for a big bonus since he's so keen.”

“No more than you deserve, my dear.”

“Don't take this the wrong way, but how long are you here for?” I enquired.

“Just two nights. Miranda asked me to come to the theatre tomorrow to meet the cast and I thought that was a good idea.”

I had seen the way Miranda had looked at Richard and thought that she had more than one idea in relation to him. To my annoyance I actually felt a little jealous, despite the fact that as a married woman I was now 'off limits' and intended to remain that way.

“And what about the performance? How many days' rehearsal can you manage?”

“Well the date hasn't been finalised of course, but I would hope to get here about five days beforehand,” he said. “I'm giving myself a much-needed holiday after shooting the film, so I have nothing else booked for a couple of months, although I might be recording a 'talking book'.”

“Oh I've done a few of those, they're great fun,” I replied.

“Yes I know. I saw 'Alice in Wonderland' in a book store and bought it. You sounded great! Not everyone can act when they're talking into a microphone but you did it so well.”

'Dammit, Richard. Why do you make me blush so easily?' I thought, thankful that the light was dim and he probably wouldn't notice. A forlorn hope of course as his chuckle proved.

“Anyway, nice though it is to chat with you, I really must get my beauty sleep, and don't say anything!” I said.

Thank goodness he took the hint. He came over to the bed and kissed me on the cheek and said: “See you in the morning”, and with that he left as silently as he arrived.

The following morning we met again at breakfast, and afterwards I drove him down to the theatre. I suggested that we didn't get there too early so that Miranda had time to talk to Julie and James about us taking over their parts at the 'gala performance'. After I received a phone call from her to say that they understood the situation and accepted it, I pulled into the theatre car park and we entered through the stage door.

As you might expect, Richard's arrival resembled that of a rock star, especially for the young women in the cast. It was as if a member of the Beatles or Rolling Stones had suddenly appeared to work with a pub band. His work on screen, both television and cinema, had made him a 'star'. Strangely I didn't feel jealous, even though I realised that I would have to follow the same path if I wanted fame and fortune. In the meantime I was perfectly happy with what I was doing, predominantly working on stage.

After shaking the hand of every cast member and having numerous 'selfies' taken, Miranda took Richard aside and spoke quietly to him. After he nodded, she came over to me.

“I just asked Richard if he'd mind performing the 'Balcony Scene' with you to give our company an idea of the sort of standard they should aspire to. Would you mind?”

I hesitated but then agreed. After all, perhaps it would be a good idea to show the company what I could do to order to persuade them that my ideas were worth following.

Miranda made the announcement to the company: “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you; Richard and Harriet have agreed to perform the Balcony Scene just as they will during the gala performance here in America in about six weeks time with you all. They will also be performing a season with the Imperial Shakespeare Company in Shakespeare's home of Stratford-Upon-Avon in England, later in the year."

There was an excited buzz and some applause as the company came down to sit in the stalls and watch us perform. The balcony set had now been constructed so I was able to use it. I walked up the steps at the rear of the set and reaching the top looked out over the auditorium. It was fortunate that the lighting director was present and he was able to set the night-time scene with some blue floodlights covering the whole stage. He was also able to highlight the balcony and the area of the stage below it where Richard would be standing with dimmed white floods to represent moonlight. When he saw us standing in position, he dimmed the auditorium lights. I stood back waiting for Richard to speak his first line: 'He jests at scars that never felt a wound. '

Then I moved forward into view and Richard started his first speech:

'But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east and Juliet is the sun.'

I lost myself in the beauty of the poetry as I always did, and suddenly I was a young girl in Verona, deeply in love. It may sound boastful, but I believe we acted the scene together as well as anyone has, before or since. Occasionally I take out a video recording and look at that younger version of me and it is as though I go back in time watching it. As I do so, I confess, I have been known to shed a tear.

We performed faultlessly if I say so myself and all too soon said our final words and the auditorium lights came up. The company spontaneously applauded us, and when I came down from the balcony, Richard took my hand and kissed it before leading me to the front of the stage to acknowledge them. Then we walked down the steps from the stage to join the rest of the company.

I confess I was feeling rather pleased with myself and it was then that I noticed that Julie was not present. When I asked about her I was told that just after we finished the scene, she got up and left the auditorium. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I quickly approached Miranda, told her I was going to look for Julie and hurried out of the auditorium through the door by which she had left.

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, some great local dinner menus and correct American idioms for this and the following chapters while Harriet visits the United States.

My best wishes to all my kind readers for the Festive Season and your support during the year; a special thank you to those who sent 'kudos' and an extra special thank you to everyone who left a comment, all of them kind, some very informative, and so a great help with my writing.

I may be taking a week off since I'm only one chapter ahead of posting (shameful I know, but sometimes life gets in the way of writing), and I don't want to pressure Julie, Karen and Louise Ann to give up their precious spare time to proofread during this season when they have more important things to do.

A Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all.

Bronwen

Chapter 17   A crisis

I had a suspicion that I knew where to find Julie. I headed first for the Ladies' Restroom next to the dressing rooms, but all was quiet, so then I headed down to the public restrooms more appropriately termed the 'Ladies' Powder Room' in the era in which the theatre was built. I opened the door quietly and could hear muffled sobbing so I walked through the ornate room with its chairs and mirrors where ladies could repair their makeup and into the cubicle area. Sure enough, there was Julie sitting in one of the cubicles with the door open, her head in her hands and wailing as though her heart was breaking.

“Julie,” I said quietly. She looked up startled, and then seeing me, buried her face again.

I walked up to her. “Julie, I need to talk with you. Will you please come with me to the powder room where we can both sit down? It will be a bit more comfortable there.”

Without speaking a word she stood up, took my offered hand and let me lead her to a sofa where we could sit side by side. It seemed strange; I was only a couple of years older than her, but I felt almost like her mother. When we were seated I put my arm around her.

“Julie, I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have allowed myself to be talked into performing that scene with Richard. It wasn't fair and I regret it now.”

Her tears started to flow again: “When I saw you both I knew what I have to do. I'm going to resign from the company and then they will have to get you play the part. You'll do it so much better than I ever could.”

I felt really worried. When I came to East Devon I never anticipated a situation like this. I decided to try another approach.

“Julie, when you auditioned for the part, how many other young women tried for it too?”

I already knew the answer to this or I wouldn't have asked her.

She dabbed at her eyes and said: “There were four others, two from the company and two answered an advertisement.”

“And yet, you were the one they picked,” I said.

“I must have been the best of a bad bunch,” said Julie.

“That's not true, and you know it. If you were all so bad, they would have advertised for more actresses to audition. No, you were picked because they knew you would play the part well. Miranda thinks so, the company thinks so, and I think so.”

“You are just being kind,” she responded, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“Well I hope I am kind, but there's no room for sentiment in professional theatre, there's too much at stake. What I'm trying to tell you is that everyone has confidence in your ability to perform the rôle well, everyone that is, except for one person – you. I don't know how important being in the theatre is to you, but if you pull out now, everyone will get to hear about it and you'll have almost no chance of getting another part, anywhere. Is that what you want?”

Julie shook her head.

“I thought not. Now I am prepared to do everything I can to help you but you must have confidence in your ability to perform well because I know it's something you can do.”

I seemed to be getting through to her because she had stopped crying now.

“You really mean that don't you,” she said. It was a statement rather than a question.

“I wouldn't lie to you,” I responded. “There's something else I must tell you; when you choose a career on stage, you will find yourself acting with people who are better than you and also worse than you. Learn from the ones who are better than you, and try to help those who are not as good as you. That is my philosophy, and it's worked pretty well for me so far.

“I'm sure you've heard of Dame Emily Good?” She nodded. “Well, I've had the amazing good luck to have her as my mentor. Mum, my sister Emma and I met her quite by chance on a London train. We got talking and she came to see me perform and thought I had enough potential to try out at the Imperial Shakespeare Company. Now I didn't step straight into a starring rôle, in fact, I was an understudy at first, but I worked hard and now I've reached the stage where they ask me to perform parts. The point I'm trying to make is that if I hadn't been performing when I met her, then none of this would have happened. I can't promise that you will have the same lucky break, but whenever you are performing, you never know who is watching and what it might lead to.”

Julie looked a lot brighter now, but I still had the feeling that something was bothering her.

“Is there something that's worrying you?” I asked.

She hesitated and blushed.

“It's James isn't it,” I said. “You're in love with him and you don't know how he feels about you.”

“We had dinner together the other night,” Julie said. “I nearly told him how I feel but I couldn't get the words out.”

“I'm sure he's fond of you, but he might not feel he's old enough to make a commitment yet,” I said. “That doesn't mean he doesn't care about you, but he's frightened to make that big decision right now. Does that make sense?”

She looked at me and nodded. “You're married,” she said. “Was it you or your husband who first told the other that they loved them?”

I smiled. “Reggie and I first met when we were school children. Somehow it always seemed that we were meant to be together and to be honest I can't remember who said 'I love you' first, but the convention, at least in Britain, is that the man says it first.”

“I envy you,” said Julie. “You must have a dream marriage.”

I decided that to gain her trust I need to reveal some confidences.

“You know that saying from 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', 'The course of true love never did run smooth'? Well, it happened to us and I nearly lost Reggie for ever.”

Julie's eyes widened: “Why? What happened?”

“It was when he first went to university. A young woman student called Sophie decided she wanted him, even after he made it quite clear that he wasn't interested. One night in the student bar she slipped a drug in his drink and he woke up in bed next to her next morning with no idea how he got there. About a month later she announced that she was pregnant and he was the father so they had to get married.”

“Couldn't he have insisted that they get a DNA test on the baby if he didn't think it was his?” asked Julie.

“There was an added complication. Her father wasn't a nice man and knew some bad people. Reggie was told that if he didn't agree to marry Sophie, something bad would happen to me to ruin my career, so he sacrificed himself for me. I can tell you that was a really bad time in both our lives, but of course it only made me love him more.”

“Oh my gosh, that's terrible,” said Julie. “But now you're married to him; how did that happen?”

“Well they got married and Sophie had the baby, a pretty little girl she called Stella, but some time later, she and her father were killed in a car crash. I know it sounds like something from a really bad novel, but sometimes these things happen in real life. If it hadn't happened, who knows where we'd be today? You really can't tell what is around the corner.”

“What happened to Stella?” asked Julie.

“She's currently being brought up by my sister Emma who has children of her own. It's only because of Reggie being at university and me being away acting. We couldn't give her a stable home life at present and Emma can.”

“That's very kind of your sister,” she said.

“She's a great person and we were so lucky that she agreed to do it,” I replied.

I still had this niggling feeling that Julie was holding something back. I looked closely at her: “Is there anything else that you're not telling me?” I asked.

She flushed and then whispered “I think I might be pregnant. I take the contraceptive pill, but I'm overdue.”

This wasn't the first time I was thankful that I'm an actress. Sometimes it really pays to be able to mask one's true feelings.

“How late are you?” I asked quietly.

“Only a week, but normally I'm regular as clockwork,” she replied.

“Have you told anyone else?” I asked, specifically meaning James of course.

“Nobody,” she replied, looking miserable.

“Well, my suggestion is that you don't tell anyone yet. Sometimes our bodies play tricks on us, particularly if we're under stress.”

I knew that in the greater scheme of things the play took second place, but I had to give it priority because of my current position, and a premature announcement at this stage could be disastrous.

“Is that what you would do if you were me?” Julie asked.

“Yes I would. It may be a false alarm and if it is, revealing it now will cause a lot of problems unnecessarily. You may think I'm only saying that because of the play, and of course I have to consider it, but your health and happiness is my prime concern. If possible, try to concentrate on the play, and remember that I am here for you if you really are expecting a baby.”

I couldn't help thinking that I might have handled the situation better, but this had all happened without warning, and certainly wasn't something I could have anticipated. Now I would have to pray that Julie wasn't pregnant. Of course, physically there was nothing to prevent her playing Juliet, but mentally, who knew?

“Shall we go back to the rehearsal now? We can say you had a tummy upset,” I suggested. “I will have to tell Miranda the situation but it won't go any further.”

Julie nodded, so that's what we did. Miranda was very sympathetic and suggested that Julie go home early and rest. We said we would see her the following day.

Richard was sitting next to Miranda, so after the rehearsal ended, I asked if he would go ahead and wait for me in the car while I discussed something with Miranda. Then I told her the true story.

“Oh, the silly girl!” she exclaimed.

“We were all young once,” I replied. “It could be a false alarm, indeed I hope it is because James may not be prepared to get married and if so, who knows what will happen?”

Miranda smiled grimly. “Looking on the bright side, if necessary we will have to ask you to play Juliet for the season. I know that's not what you are here for, but it might come to that.”

I had to agree with her of course, but my aim was to get a good performance out of Julie, not take her place.

As I drove us back to Tara, Richard asked what had happened to Julie.

“It was a girl thing,” I said and he nodded wisely.

“I see. The wrong phase of the moon I suppose,” he said, presumably thinking he was putting it delicately.

I smiled. “Something like that,” I said. “So what do you think of the company?”

“They're a mixed bunch,” he replied. “I'm guessing that some are using it as a stepping stone to better things, and some are there because they can't get regular employment anywhere else. Once I got used to hearing Shakespeare with an American accent, I decided they are good enough that it won't ruin my reputation to perform with them.”

“I'm surprised you agreed to the 'gala performance' before you had seen them,” I said.

“Ah, my dear, that's because I couldn't see you wasting your time with them if they had been totally hopeless.”

I didn't know how to respond to that because, to tell the truth, I hadn't known how good they were before I arrived.

“I'll be heading off early in the morning. Henry is driving me to the airport,” said Richard. “I'd like to give him something for his trouble, even though I know it's his job.”

“I thought you might. Please don't give him money as that might offend him. I made discreet enquiries with Blossom his wife and she informs me that he is rather partial to genuine Scotch whisky, especially the single malt variety. You'll be stopping half-way to Boston for a coffee. Henry always stops at the same place and Blossom told me that you can buy something suitable for him there.”

“Thanks, Harriet. You're a star,” he said.

“Not as much a star as you are,” I laughed. “No-one is queuing up to have their photo taken with me, yet.”

“Don't you worry about that, they will I'm sure,” he replied.

As it was Richard's last night, Ellen had put on a special dinner, surpassing even the previous nights' efforts. We had Pancetta Carbonara, linguini with white cream sauce and peas; Caesar salad, and tiramisu for dessert. It was served with Woop Woop vinyards Australian Shiraz wine. I determined that when I returned to England I would eat spaghetti on toast for a week to readjust to the real world! In the meantime however...

The following morning, I got up at seven but Richard and Henry had already left. After breakfast, I drove to the theatre again and we assembled for another rehearsal. When Julie arrived I looked at her and she nodded her head almost imperceptibly and seemed much better in herself. James asked her if she was over her stomach bug, and I could tell that she was really pleased with his concern. I was immensely relieved.

The rehearsal went very well. Miranda had decided against going through the balcony scene again and I was totally in agreement with that. Instead, she decided on Act Two Scene Five with Juliet and her nurse in the Capulet's orchard, and then Scene Six in Friar Lawrence's cell. Julie performed both scenes very well and at least for now, the crisis seemed to be over. James was his usual competent self, and it would be remiss of me not to mention the two older actors, Margaret Smith who played Juliet's nurse and Jeremy Steele who played Friar Lawrence. These are major parts and were performed very well by two experienced players, whom I assumed were in the twilight of their careers and happy to take on parts in a theatre close to where they lived. I was sure that their presence was helping the younger cast members too. I should mention that despite being much more experienced than me, they treated my ideas with respect.

During a break after the rehearsal, I discussed both scenes with Miranda and we agreed that with only a couple of minor adjustments they were now at performance standard.

“Julie seemed much better,” said Miranda. “I don't know what you said to her but it seems to have worked.”

“Apparently the immediate crisis is over,” I replied. “I'm still a bit worried about her relationship with James but we'll just have to see how that progresses.”

Miranda smiled. “Well that's good news, but don't make any plans to leave town, just in case.”

I hoped that Julie had taken my advice to heart about not revealing her feelings for James as I strongly suspected that he wasn't ready to settle down. I also hoped that she was taking birth control more seriously. I would have to have a word with her about that.

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. menus and correct American idioms for this and the following chapters while Harriet visits the United States.

Chapter 18   A proposal and an alarm

That evening at dinner, Hiram said: “I hear that you are having some trouble with your 'Juliet'.”

'Where's he getting that from? Is Miranda or someone else reporting back to him?” I thought, then realised that as he was funding the theatre, perhaps he was entitled to know what was going on.

Aloud I said “She's a good actress but just lacking some self-confidence. I'm working on that.”

He laughed. “'Good', but not as good as you.”

“I've had the privilege of working with many of the world's finest Shakespearean actors; some of that is bound to rub off. I'm also older than she is, but I'm sure she'll get there in time.”

“That's a fair point. Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention that our resident artists usually put on a solo performance for the local community at the theatre. Would that be a problem for you?”

I managed to mask my annoyance at another instance of me not being made aware of everything I need to know.

“Not at all, but I wonder if listening to me droning on for two hours plus an interval presumably, might be asking a bit much of them.” I had another of my 'bright ideas'. “How would you feel if I organised a few promising young local musicians to provide a couple of musical interludes, just for variety?”

“That sounds a good idea, Hiram. What do you think?” said Magnolia.

“Hmm. Well, it's true that the last artist did get a bit boring after a while. Maybe Miranda can help you find someone suitable; she knows all the music schools in the area.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I'll follow that up.”

The following day at the theatre I asked Miranda about musicians and she said she would make enquiries. I didn't mention about Hiram knowing of Julie's problems with the part, just in case it had come from Miranda.

Although I have been concentrating on 'Romeo and Juliet', I should mention that this was a repertory company and they were also scheduled to perform 'Much Ado About Nothing' in between the 'Romeo and Juliet' performances. This was a good idea, as it gave players who only had small parts in one play to have much larger ones in the other. It was excellent practice for them, and presenting a comedy as well as a tragedy gave audiences a choice.

For the next couple of weeks, I concentrated on my rôle as Resident Artist, effectively conducting master classes in performing Shakespeare. The company, even the older members, seemed to respect me as someone coming from the home of Shakespeare and having 'special knowledge'. The fact that I knew both plays by heart seemed to impress them. I learned things too, so it wasn't all one-way traffic. I discovered that I really enjoyed passing on my knowledge and skills and thought that if a time ever came that I could no longer perform, then this would be a good alternative to acting.

I did give Julie extra one-on-one tuition, mixed with judicious praise and she really seemed to be developing self-confidence, which was good to see.

Some evenings I worked on a list of speeches and poetry which I could use for my solo performance. I had asked Miranda if she would direct me and give me honest advice on my choice of works. The last thing I wanted to do was bore the audience, especially as it seemed this had happened in the past. I thought that a mixture of Shakespeare, his contemporaries and some American authors would work well.

One day Miranda told me she had found the perfect duo for the musical interludes.

“They are a very talented young brother and sister in their mid to late teens, called Itzak and Miriam Rabinovich. Itzak is eighteen and plays the piano; Miriam is sixteen and plays the violin. I've asked them to come along and audition for you tomorrow, I hope you don't mind?”

“Not at all,” I replied. “Thank you for finding them. Do you think they could play some Elizabethan music to fit in with the items I will be performing?”

“I've already asked them, and they are quite excited about that,” replied Miranda. “Itzak has suggested adapting some of William Byrd's work from the original instruments to violin and piano. Byrd was Elizabeth's favourite composer you know?”

“I confess I didn't, but I must say that sounds very impressive. I'm really looking forward to meeting and hearing them.”

The following morning I had that pleasure. The two young people arrived at nine o'clock, having been allowed to take time off from school and rehearsals had been delayed until ten o'clock so that we would have a free hour to meet them. They were charming young people. Miranda introduced them to me and they called me Miss Stow which I decided to stay with until I knew if their music would be suitable.

I wasn't too sure about the quality of the piano in the theatre. I never learned to play but just hitting some of the keys I felt that the sound was not of a very high standard. Izak pulled a face after playing a few notes and I hurried to reassure him that we would obtain a much better instrument for the evening even if I had to hire it myself. He looked reassured at that.

Miriam took her violin out of its case and started to tune up. Then they played the first piece, Itzak's adaptation of a piece by William Byrd 'Though Amaryllis Dance in Green' which he told me was originally a work for an unaccompanied small choir. I was stunned by the quality of their playing. These were young people. What would they be like when they matured?

“Your violin has a lovely tone,” I said to Miriam.

“Yes, it's a Vincenco Cavani, nearly a hundred years old,” she replied. “Daddy bought it for my last birthday.”

“How old were you when you started to play?” I asked.

“I was only five. Mummy plays and she was my first teacher. I started with a child's violin and graduated to a three-quarter size, but this year they said I was good enough and old enough now to deserve a professional instrument. A lot of people ask if it's a Stradivarius.” She giggled. “I explain that Daddy is not quite wealthy enough to afford one of those, but I'm quite happy with my Cavani.”

' What a charming young girl and not in the least spoilt by the praise she must so often get,' I thought.

I smiled. “Do you have something else to play for us?” I asked.

“Yes, this is a piece by Thomas Tallis. Miss Strange explained that you would be reciting works by Shakespeare and his contemporaries and wanted music of around the same period.”

The second piece they played was as good as the first, and as Miranda and I applauded at the conclusion, I told her that there was no need to look further, these talented siblings would be perfect to compliment my recitations.

“Well Miriam and Itzak, I would be very pleased if you would play at my evening's performance. Would you like to do so?”

“Oh yes, Miss Stow. We've heard a lot about you and it would be a wonderful experience for us. Our parents saw you perform in London during their last trip and said it was one of the best performances of Shakespeare that they had ever seen.”

“That's very kind of them,” I replied. “Nevertheless, I think that Miss Strange and I should meet them and discuss the program we have in mind. Do you live nearby?”

“We live in Albany,” said Itzak. “It's about an hour's drive from here. Our parents actually drove us here today. They're waiting outside.”

“Oh, I had no idea!” I exclaimed. “Please invite them in to the theatre.”

Itzak left the theatre and returned a few minutes later with his parents whom he introduced as Rebecca and Menachem Rabinovich. He and Miriam then returned to the stage to play a final piece.

“Mr and Mrs Rabinovich, I am so sorry you were left waiting outside. I had no idea you were there or I would have invited you in earlier,” I said. “As you know, I asked Miss Strange if she could find some young musicians to play musical interludes during the performance which I've been asked to give before I return to England. Your children are very talented and I would be so pleased if they could play during my performance, with your permission of course.”

“I'm sure they would be thrilled to take part in your performance, Miss Stow. We had the pleasure of seeing you perform at the Globe Theatre the last time we were in London, and we enjoyed the play very much,” replied Mr Rabinovich.

I was surprised that here were yet more people who had seen me perform in a play. Was I starting to become famous? I must take care not to get a swollen head!

The two young people played their final piece and we all applauded enthusiastically. It was agreed that I would work on my program and they would record some short pieces of music on disk and send it to me for my selections. Mr and Mrs Rabinovich invited me to come to their home for a final rehearsal a few days before the performance, and I accepted with pleasure.

I asked Itzak about a suitable piano to hire for the occasion.

“They come in a number of different sizes from Petite Grand to Concert Grand, Miss Stow,” he replied. “We have a Medium Grand at home so that's what I would suggest as I'm used to it. The volume of sound it produces is also compatible with Miriam's violin.”

He was able to give me the name of a company where I would be able to hire the piano. By this time the actors were starting to arrive for the rehearsal so we made our farewells and promised to get in touch nearer the time of my performance.

That night, an incident occurred that nearly brought my tenure at East Devon to a sudden halt. I was in bed making notes about things to discuss with Miranda concerning my solo performance. I was glad that we had confirmed the appearance of the Rabinovich siblings as 'special guests' as I knew they would really enhance the evening, and it would be good for them to perform before a relatively large audience.

The room was quite dim, lit only by the bedside lamp. There was a tap on the door and I called out “Come in” thinking it must be one of the women in the house with a query. To my surprise it, was Hiram. With an effort I managed to stay calm.

“Mr Thompson, I think you must have mistaken my room for yours,” I said brightly, trying to make it seem like he was playing a joke on me.

“No mistake, my dear, I know you've been expecting me for weeks, but this was my first opportunity,” he replied. “Well, there was one previous occasion, but that young rascal Richard Jenkins beat me to it.”

My heart sank. I didn't think anyone was aware of Richard's visit to my room and now it seemed that the worst possible person had seen him. As though nothing could make the situation worse I realised that someone was listening. It was the Thompson's practice to leave a light on in the hall outside the bedrooms, and what I could see but Hiram couldn't, was that a shadow had appeared in the light under the door. It didn't take a genius to know who that shadow belonged to. Suddenly I felt annoyed. Why was it that some men couldn't think with their brain rather than, well, another part of their anatomy?

“Richard came to apologise for being part of the secret about the gala performance. He didn't realise that it was news to me. I told him that it was inappropriate for him to come to my room and he left soon after. I had hoped that no-one was aware of his visit but it seems I was mistaken.”

“Well, I hope you are not going to ask me to leave, my dear. I must say you look most alluring in your night attire,” responded Hiram. Wasn't he listening to a word I said? I raised my voice slightly as I wanted the listener at the door to hear everything.

“Mr Thompson, I came here to perform the duties of an 'artist in residence' and I trust that I am doing that to your satisfaction. I hope I have never given you any impression that our relationship is anything other than that of employer and employee, although I hoped that we could be considered friends as well. You must realise that if Mrs Thompson became aware of your presence in my room, this would place me in an impossible position. She would naturally have to take your side, and I would have no alternative but to return to England immediately.”

He still looked unconvinced, so I played my trump card.

“Of course that means I wouldn't be available for the gala performance of 'Romeo and Juliet'.” This it seems struck home.

He hesitated, then said. “I'm sorry Miss Stow, it seems that I misinterpreted your friendliness for something more. Would you be kind enough to forget that this incident ever happened?”

“Of course, Mr Thompson,” I said. “I will bid you 'goodnight'.” I noticed that the shadow was no longer visible under the bedroom door. Magnolia had heard all she needed to. I still wondered if this incident would affect my relationship with her. Surely I was not the first person that Hiram had approached in this way?

“Err, yes, goodnight Miss Stow,” said Hiram, and he turned and left the room. I realised that I was shaking. What if he had insisted on trying to enter my bed? What would I have done?

I tried to settle down to sleep, which normally comes easily to me, but not that night. I tossed and turned for some time, replaying over in my mind the events that had happened. The room felt stuffy, and I decided I needed some fresh air. My room faced the rear of the house, overlooking the outbuildings. I slipped out of bed and walked over to the window. As I opened it, I smelt something – smoke! I leaned out and realised that it was coming from the upper floor of the garage. I grabbed my phone, dialed 911 and asked to be put through to the fire service. I gave them my location, explained the emergency and was reassured that they would be there within ten minutes, possibly less.

That done, I put on my robe and slippers and immediately set about alerting the household. Magnolia's and Hiram's rooms were just down the corridor and as soon as I knew they were awake and getting up, I ran downstairs to knock on the staff's bedroom doors to let them know too. In each case I called out to them that I had rung 911. Then I walked out of the back door into the cold night air to see how the fire was progressing. It was obvious that the upper floor of the garage was well alight and I wondered if the fire brigade would arrive in time to save anything.

Soon I was joined by the rest of the household. Magnolia and Hiram thanked me for my quick thinking in seeking help as we stood and watched the smoke and flames. In the distance I could hear the sounds of fire appliances approaching and I noticed that everyone was present except Henry who had presumably stayed behind to put on some clothes. Suddenly he appeared, stared at the garage and blurted out “Annabel” before rushing to the building, pulling open the two large swing doors and running into the smoke-filled interior.

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, menus and correct American idioms for this and the following chapters while Harriet visits the United States.

Chapter 19   A trip to Albany

Blossom shrieked and started to run towards the garage, but Rodrigo, the gardener, was quick on his feet and grabbed her, holding her back.

“You can't help him, Blossom. You might even make things worse,” he shouted as she struggled to free herself. The rest of us were frozen to the spot with shock. It was the longest sixty seconds of my life. The sound of the sirens came closer, and then, suddenly, the familiar grille of 'Annabel' appeared through the billowing smoke. As the car cleared the building, a flaming beam from the second floor fell to the ground, missing it by inches. Henry quickly turned right, away from where the fire engines would appear, and parked the car on the lawn.

Suddenly, two fire engines were there, the firemen spilling out and quickly deploying their hoses. Water sprayed over the flames and steam mixed with the smoke. Meanwhile, Henry had stepped out of 'Annabel' and walked towards Blossom who had now freed herself from Rodrigo's grasp. She ran up to Henry, who was grinning and started to pound her fists on his chest in fury.

“You stupid, stupid man,” she screamed. “If you ever do anything like that again, I swear I'll divorce you.” Then she threw herself into his arms, and he hugged her, his look of triumph changing to one of guilt and embarrassment. We all felt awkward, witnessing such a display of raw emotion. Blossom was right of course; what Henry had done was crazy, yet in some way I understood why he had done it. Men have a special relationship with some cars. To us women, it seems totally irrational, but there it is.

Gradually, the flames died down and finally, the fire captain walked up to Hiram and informed him that while the fire was out, no-one should enter the building until an expert had examined it to see if it was safe to do so. The drama was over.

Ellen appeared and I hadn't realised that she was missing. She spoke in Magnolia's ear, who in turn spoke to Hiram, who addressed to the surrounding men.

“Gentlemen, thank you so much for your quick response. But for that, I'm sure we would have lost the building entirely. Now, can we offer you some refreshment before you go?” he said. “Ellen has prepared some scrambled eggs.. I know it's early for breakfast, but after your exertions, she thought some nourishment might be welcome.”

“Thank you very much, Mr Thompson,” said the captain. “That's a very kind thought and I'm sure the men will really appreciate it. After all, there's always a chance we might get called out again.”

As the men trooped into the kitchen, all the women quickly disappeared to their bedrooms to dress more appropriately. When we reappeared, we all sat around the big kitchen table to enjoy Ellen's special scrambled eggs with toast on the side. I was convinced that she had some secret formula because they were the best scrambled eggs I ever tasted. I finally persuaded her to reveal her secret, and it was a pinch of sugar in the mix.

That was also the only time during my visit when the whole household sat at a table together.

Hiram said: “It seems we have Miss Harriet Stow to thank for raising the alarm.”

“Yes, how did that happen, my dear?” said Magnolia.

' So we're going to do a little play-acting are we? Well, that's right up my alley,' I thought.

“I couldn't sleep for some reason, I'm not sure why, so I opened the window to get some fresh air, and that's when I smelled the smoke,” I said.

“Well, we are very grateful to you, my dear. Without your prompt actions, the damage might have been far worse,” said Magnolia.

I couldn't help thinking that there could have been a hidden meaning behind those words. I had little doubt that she knew of Hiram's straying. I didn't think for a moment that I was the first woman he had approached. She obviously chose to tolerate it, and that, of course, was her choice. Perhaps she felt she had too much to lose by bringing matters to a head. Meanwhile, Hiram probably thought he was cleverly keeping his actions a secret from her.

Finally, the firemen finished their meal, and after a short speech from their captain, thanking the Thompsons and Ellen, they departed. When they had gone, we all went back to bed to get what sleep we could since it was now about four o'clock in the morning.

I forgot to set my alarm and as a result when I finally opened my eyes and looked at my bedside clock I was horrified to see that it was nine o'clock, the time I should have already been setting out for the theatre. I showered, dressed and applied my makeup in record time, and hurried downstairs only to find Hiram and Magnolia quietly sitting with a cup of coffee after breakfast and reading the newspapers.

“I'm terribly late,” I gasped. “No time for breakfast, I'll just grab a cup of coffee.”

“Nonsense, my dear,” said Magnolia. “I've already phoned Miranda and told her the story of the night's adventures. She's expecting you later in the morning. Henry can drive you to the theatre. Now what would you like for breakfast? You can't work on an empty stomach.”

I felt a bit embarrassed to have been in such a panic: “Can I access my usual car and drive myself?” I enquired.

“We have to wait for the safety inspector to check the structure of the building before anyone can go inside,” said Hiram. “Most of the damage seems to have been confined to the upper floor, so the other automobiles may still be alright. We'll just have to wait and see. Meanwhile I'm sure we can hire a couple of cars if necessary. By the way, the local newspaper has already been in touch and is sending out a reporter and photographer. They should be here soon. I hope you don't mind featuring in their report? It will add some interest to the story that a visitor from England raised the alarm.”

“That's fine,” I replied. “But I hope you'll be on hand to supply any details they require.”

Earlier, I mentioned that my wardrobe was sadly deficient in suitable dinner wear at the Thompsons. I had already been to the only women's clothing store in East Devon and bought a couple of dresses, but their stock was very limited, and I was looking forward to visiting somewhere which had more choice. Magnolia had promised to take me shopping to a town larger than East Devon, but hadn't yet named a day but now she had some good news for me.

“Harriet, our daughter Andrea is coming home next weekend, and she would love for us to have a 'girls day out' shopping in Albany. Would you like that?”

“That would be wonderful, Mrs Thompson,” I replied, glad that the conversation had taken a new turn. I had been thinking that there was an elephant in the room which we were all studiously ignoring – how did it happen that I was awake to raise the alarm?

I had barely finished breakfast when the two young men from the 'East Devon Gazette' arrived. Having seen some past issues, I suspected that a fire at the Thompson's would definitely make the front page of the next issue. There had been a small paragraph reporting my arrival in a past issue, but now it seems I was to be the star of the show.

They wanted details about me, what I was doing in East Devon, and my career in Britain. It seemed a good opportunity to mention the plays which would be starting soon. Hiram of course mentioned the 'gala performance', and my solo performance, which they promised to promote nearer the time.

Naturally they asked how I had come to raise the alarm and I said I had trouble sleeping the previous night and had opened the window to let in some fresh air when I smelled the smoke. This seemed a perfectly acceptable explanation to them. They asked Hiram about the damage and he told how Henry had rescued 'Annabel'. I think he had been tempted not to mention it, but the firemen all knew so it would have seemed strange to say nothing about it.

When they has all the information they required, they asked if 'Annabel' could be moved in front of the building, with Henry and I posing next to it for photographs. They must have taken about a hundred shots in total, and finally left after nearly an hour. I was feeling increasingly guilty about not going to the theatre, so Hiram asked Henry to drive me down there.

When I arrived at the theatre, of course I had to retell the story of the fire and my part in raising the alarm, so it was some considerable time before we settled down to work.

A day later, the safety inspector came and checked the garage. It seemed that the main structural damage was to the upper level of the building and he gave permission for Henry to go into the ground floor with him and check on the remaining cars. Apart from smelling of smoke they were otherwise unharmed and he was allowed to drive them out. The doors of the building were then sealed until builders could come and prepare a quote for repairs.

Soon, the weekend arrived and with it came Andrea. The photograph of her which I had seen didn't do her justice. She was no longer a pretty teenager but a strikingly beautiful young woman. I was sure she was going to break many hearts, but perhaps not as she was as sweet in nature as she was beautiful. She actually seemed thrilled to meet me.

“I've heard so much about you Miss Stow,” she said. “You are developing quite a reputation as an actress, especially your Shakespearean work.”

“Call me Harriet, please,” I replied. “Your mother has shown me some of your work and I was very impressed. I foresee a brilliant career ahead for you.”

She laughed: “If that's so then I think it will apply to us both. Are you going to do any film or television work? I know the theatre is your first love, but it's appearing on the screen that will bring you to the attention of a world-wide audience, just as it's done for Richard Jenkins. Speaking of which, I hope you are getting me some tickets for the gala 'Romeo and Juliet'?” she enquired of her mother.

“I hope you have connections,” I said. “A little bird tells me they are selling like hot cakes, and I suspect it's due to the presence of Richard; he's going to be the real star of the show.”

“And you too,” said Andrea. I could tell that we were going to be great friends!

The following morning, Henry drove the three of us to Albany. Until that visit to America, like many people, I assumed that the city of New York was the capital of New York State, but in fact it is Albany. It has a population of around 100,000, although the Capital District, taking in the surrounding suburbs and cities has a population closer to one million.

As Henry drove us through the heart of the city, I took in the views of the huge Empire State Plaza with its fountains and reflecting pools. At one end is the State Capitol and at the other the State Museum. Of particular interest to me was the performing arts centre known as 'The Egg' because of its shape, and which holds two theatres. Henry parked 'Annabel' in the underground parking area and Magnolia, Andrea and I set off for the underground shopping concourse, which held a multitude of clothing stores from discount to high end 'boutiques'. As you can imagine it was the latter to which Magnolia gravitated.

I will not bore you with details of our shopping excursion, suffice it to say that with an interval for lunch; we spent several delightful hours there and ended up with a number of shopping bags each. I bought three beautiful gowns in various shades, to double my wardrobe for evening meals at the Thompsons', also two pairs of heels. Magnolia bought several gowns to add to her already bulging wardrobe. Andrea, being an art student was more interested in clothes in the Bohemian style, but still found some skirts and tops which actually met with parental approval.

Finally, tired but happy, we contacted Henry and arranged to meet him at the limousine for the ride home.

At dinner that evening, I wore one of my new acquisitions, a gown of deep red silk. Magnolia was beautifully dressed as usual, and Andrea also wore a lovely green silk gown in deference to the family tradition, although I had no doubt that she a was more used to a casual style of dress while at university. Hiram commented that he was privileged to dine with three such beautiful women.

After dinner, when the two of us were alone for a moment, Andrea surprised me by saying would I mind if she drew a sketch of me in charcoal. I was surprised and delighted at the offer, having seen how talented she was. It was arranged that she would make a start the following day and she would also take some pictures of me from various angles to complete the work when she was back at Vassar. The resulting picture was a true work of art, and it hangs on our wall to this day. Andrea is now a well-known artist and her pictures are eagerly sought by collectors, but there is no way that I would ever sell my picture. Andrea and I still correspond and she is a true friend from another sphere of the arts.

On Monday Andrea returned to Vassar. I knew that she would be coming home again and attending the 'gala performance', so this was only 'au revoir' rather than farewell. The Cherokee had been thoroughly aired and there was only a faint smell of smoke lingering when I drove back to the theatre for the final week of rehearsals before the season started. There was something special to look forward to the following weekend beside the opening performance of 'Romeo and Juliet' - Reggie was coming to stay for four days. Although we had been in touch every say, I found that as the days passed I was really missing him and strange as it may seem, the Hiram incident had really brought home to me how much I missed Reggie in my bed.

Reggie was arriving on Friday afternoon and Henry was going to Boston to pick him up. If it hadn't been for the dress rehearsals taking place on Thursday and Friday, I would have gone along for the ride, but I felt obliged to be at the theatre, and fortunately Reggie understood that when I explained it to him. The main thing is that I would be back at the house with sufficient time to prepare for dinner and his arrival. I had warned him to bring a suit and tie for dinner! I confess to glancing at my watch more than once during Friday's dress rehearsal. Miranda caught me once and I blushed and apologised, explaining that it was because of Reggie's arrival, not because I was bored by the rehearsal. I'd already had a phone call from him to say he'd landed at Boston and had found Henry, so I knew that he would be arriving in about three hours.

She laughed and said: “In that case I forgive you. Leave early if you like.”

I assured her that I had plenty of time to stay to the end of the rehearsal and be back at the Thompsons' before Reggie arrived. I particularly wanted to see Julie's performance right to the end of the play and she had certainly improved out of sight from when I first saw her perform.

Both dress rehearsals went very well, and I could see that Miranda was very happy, a fact she announced to the whole company on Friday.

“I've never seen the company perform so well, and it's largely due to your work with them,” she said to me afterwards.

“I've been glad to have made a contribution, but I've worked with some of the world's top directors and I can tell you that you can hold your own with them,” I replied.

She laughed: “I don't believe you, but it was nice of you to say so,” she said.

There was only one minor hiccup and no prizes for where it came from.

Julie came up to me after hearing Miranda and I expresss our satisfaction with the performance, and said: “Is it true that a bad dress rehearsal means a good opening night, and vice versa?”

I took her hand and smiled: “It's an old theatrical superstition but I don't think anyone really believes it.

“Oh, you mean superstitions like not saying Mac...,” she stopped, horrified by what she had nearly said.

“Exactly,” I replied. “Now you go and 'break a leg'.”

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, menus and correct American idioms for this and the following chapters while Harriet visits the United States.

Chapter 20   First night

When I arrived back at the Thompsons', I had my shower and dressed in the second of my new gowns, a deep blue colour with a lace overlay. I kept glancing at my watch, gauging how close Reggie and Henry were to arriving. Downstairs I'm sure Magnolia could see my ill-concealed excitement. She poured me a sherry and said: “They'll be here soon.” I had to laugh.

Finally, the crunch of tyres on the driveway heralded Annabel's arrival. I was so thrilled to see Reggie come through the door that it was all I could do not to grab him and hug him. Instead, I reintroduced him to Magnolia and also Hiram who had now appeared.

“Why don't you take Reggie to your room so that he can get changed?” said Magnolia with great understanding.

I led him up the stairs to my room, and the moment the door shut he swept me into his arms: “I've missed you so much,” he said.

“Oh Reggie, darling, it's felt like a century since we were last together,” I said, tears starting in my eyes. “Oh damn, now I've ruined my makeup and I wanted to look perfect for you.”

“And so you do my darling,” he replied.

I laughed. “I want to rip your clothes off and take you to bed and instead we have to have dinner with the Thompsons.”

“Well just think of the anticipation,” he replied.

After repairing my makeup, I sat on the bed and watched Reggie undress and go for a shower. It took all my resolve not to strip off and get in the shower with him! When he came out I devoured his naked body with my eyes while I watched him get dressed in the suit I had asked him to bring.

He smiled at me and winked: "Everything as you remember it?"

“I remember you're a wicked man, Reginald Staunton. How can you tease a poor girl so?” I replied.

Reggie had brought a medium-size suitcase and a larger one with him which he indicated: “Your clothes my lady,” he said.

“How did you go coming through Customs?” I asked. “Did they open the suitcase?”

“Yes, they did. They probably thought I was carrying a lot of luggage for a four-day stay. When they saw the contents, one of the Customs guys looked hard at me and said 'Are you a drag queen, sir?'.”

” Drag queen?” I was outraged. “He thought my clothes belonged to a drag queen?”

Reggie smiled: “I was tempted to make a joke but I could see that he had absolutely no sense of humour and I didn't want to be locked up for making fun of a Customs Officer, so I told him straight that they belonged to my wife who was staying in America for a couple of months. He glared at me for a moment as though he was waiting for me to break down and confess, but finally, he closed the lid down and said. 'Welcome to America. Mr Staunton, enjoy your stay.' I still don't know if he believed me but at least he didn't hold me up.”

“My poor darling,” I purred. “I'm glad he didn't check to see if they were the right size for you.”

I was so pleased to have more clothes to wear, especially at dinner with the Thompsons

Finally, as we walked down the broad staircase together, hand in hand, Hiram said: “Well, here's a handsome couple!”

We had an excellent dinner and chatted about what Reggie was doing at university, and the theatre season which would start the following night with 'Romeo and Juliet'. A lot of complimentary things were said about my work with the company, which inevitably had me blushing again. I know a lot of people have commented about how easily I blush, usually a sign of shyness, while I can walk onstage before a couple of thousand people without any trouble at all. I have no explanation for it.

After dinner, we had coffee and port, but Magnolia soon remarked that I would doubtless want an early night with the show starting the following evening. I was grateful to her for being so understanding.

When we reached my room we wasted no time in undressing each other and falling into bed. After a month apart I couldn't get enough of Reggie's body and it seemed he felt the same about me. It was quite a long time before we fell into an exhausted sleep.

The following morning after a late breakfast, I drove Reggie down to East Devon to show him around. We didn't do anything particularly exciting, just looking in some of the shops and having coffee in one of the cafés. What was special about it was just being together again and walking around hand in hand. Reggie knew that as co-producer of the evening's performance I had to be at the theatre early, so we returned to 'Tara' just after noon for lunch. Everyone in the household was attending the first night except for Rodrigo who was staying to mind the house. Sadly, a house like the Thompsons' which contained a lot of valuable furniture, paintings and other items cannot be left unattended. However, Rodrigo and his girlfriend had been promised good seats to another performance.

We had a short nap after lunch, and that's all it was, and then I had a shower and dressed in one of my evening gowns. Henry was going to drive me down to the theatre and then return to drive the rest of the household down later. I had a surprise for Reggie that I would be appearing onstage as 'Chorus'. Everyone else knew but they kept quiet about it.

Down at the theatre, everyone was arriving and there was the typical air of nervous excitement which always happens on the first night of a season. I made a point of checking on Julie and apart from the nerves she seemed fine. Miranda and I checked on all the cast and, after assuring ourselves that all was well, I went to my dressing room to put on my costume and makeup.

As the time for the performance to start was approaching, we could hear the hum of conversation coming from the auditorium. I knew that the Thompsons would be sitting front row centre with Reggie, and no doubt he was wondering where I was. Well, he would soon know.

I was standing in the wings out of sight of the audience. The lights of the auditorium dimmed and those of the stage came up; this was my cue. I walked onstage and down to the front of the thrust stage where I made a deep curtsy.. There was Reggie, sitting next to the Thompsons and his mouth was open in surprise. I smiled at him as the audience started to applaud. Obviously my little ruse of using my second name and married name in the program had not fooled everyone. When the applause died down I began the Prologue to the play:

'Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,...

At the conclusion and another curtsy, I walked offstage to more applause. As I had a second Prologue to perform at the start of Act II, I had to wait backstage until the conclusion of the Act and the start of the Interval, at which time, now dressed in my evening gown, I appeared in the auditorium in time to join Reggie for a drink.

“How did you keep that a secret?” he asked. “I noticed the name in the program and wondered for a moment but didn't think it could possibly be you since no-one had said anything about it. I should have known that you wouldn't miss an opportunity to go onstage.”

“The look on your face when I appeared was priceless,” I said. “Anyway, my cameo part is finished, so I can spend the rest of the performance sitting next to you, and I'm really looking forward to that.”

I was sipping a glass of champagne when an elderly lady came up.

“My dear, that was a classic introduction to the first two acts. I can tell you are a true professional.”

“Thank you very much,” I replied with a smile.

“I haven't seen you perform here before and I attend all the productions. I'm wondering why they didn't give you a larger part?” she continued.

“I'm not actually a part of the company, ma'am. Mr Hiram Thompson asked me to come over from England as a resident artist for a couple of months to give the company some additional coaching on performing Shakespeare. I volunteered to play Chorus so that the other company members could take larger parts.”

“Oh, now I remember, you're from the Imperial Shakespeare Company in England. I'm sure I read about your arrival in the local newspaper. Are you taking part in any other performances? I'd love to see them.”

I've always hated to sound like I'm boasting, but she had asked me a direct question so I had to answer.

“Richard Jenkins is coming over from England in about a month and he and I will take the title rôles in a special performance of 'Romeo and Juliet' at Tanglewood. I will also do a recital with a couple of local talented young musicians in this theatre before I leave,” I replied.

“Richard Jenkins too! We are honoured,” she exclaimed.

“Because of him the tickets are selling fast, so it might be as well to book soon,” I said.

“You're very modest my dear, I'm sure people will want to see you perform too,” she replied. "It's not often that we get an actress from Stratford-Upon-Avon appearing here."

Just then the bell rang to summon the audience back to their seats.

It was indeed delightful, sitting next to the man that I loved, holding hands as we watched the rest of the tragic love story unfold. Everyone, including Julie, performed really well, and they richly deserved the standing ovation at the end of the performance. Miranda had asked me to appear onstage for the curtain call, although she said it wasn't necessary for me to put on my costume again, so I had slipped out before the start of the last scene. I should have realised that she had something in mind.

As the applause died down, an announcement was made “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Director of 'Romeo and Juliet', Miss Miranda Strange.”

Miranda walked on to wild applause.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen and thank you for attending the opening night of our new season,” she began. “First I must thank Mr and Mrs Hiram Thompson, without whose generous support, this production would not have been able to take place.” There was more applause, and Hiram stood up and turning, waved to the audience. Miranda continued: "You will be aware that there is one person besides me on this stage who is not currently in costume. I refer of course to Miss Harriet Stow, whom you saw earlier as 'Chorus' performing the Prologue at the beginning of the first two acts. Harriet is here at the invitation of Mr Hiram Thompson to be our resident artist for two months, specialising in the art of performing William Shakespeare's works. The whole company, me included, has greatly benefited from her assistance, as I'm sure you saw for yourselves this evening. It's for that reason that I am taking this opportunity to publicly thank her for her contribution.”

More wild applause and all I could do was bow. Miranda had caught me by surprise, but it was a very nice gesture. She concluded by thanking the audience for their attendance and wishing them a 'Good Evening'.

After we all walked offstage, Reggie waited while I went backstage briefly to add my congratulations to those of Miranda and also Magnolia and Hiram, and inevitably receive more thanks myself. Julie came up to me and hugged me, saying she couldn't have done it without me. What an evening it had been.

I retired to bed tired but happy that night, although not so tired that I didn't take advantage of Reggie's presence!

There was no performance of Sunday and as it was Reggie's last full day we were determined to spend it together. I asked him what he would like to do and he surprised me by saying that he would like a trip to Albany. Like me, he didn't realise that it was the New York State capital until I had told him during one of our daily contacts, and how impressed I had been with it during my shopping trip there with Magnolia and Andrea. This time I promised him 'no shopping' as I know how much men dislike it, and anyway there was plenty more to see there.

I parked the car under the Empire State Plaza. At one end is the State Capitol building but it was closed on weekends. However, at the other end was the State Museum, which has an amazing collection. We spent a couple of hours there but only saw a fraction of what they had on display.

I have always loved classic theatres and when I mentioned this to Miranda, she told that if I was in Albany I should visit the Palace Theatre which was built in 1930 as a cinema, although she called it a 'movie theatre'. Like many theatres, it had mixed fortunes and eventually closed in 1969 when it was bought by the City of Albany. It had undergone a major restoration, starting in 2002 and only recently completed. It was only a short distance from the Plaza, so we walked over to have a look at it.

The first thing we saw was the very ornate marquee at the entrance.The lobby and foyer were open and we marvelled at their ornate architecture in the Austrian Baroque style and also the wonderful chandelier.

“I'd love to see the auditorium,” I said to Reggie, but we noticed that there was a sign at the doors saying 'Closed for Rehearsal'. “Oh well, perhaps another time.” I knew that was unlikely but sometimes your timing just happens to be off.

I told Reggie that I needed to 'powder my nose', a quaint English expression for visiting the bathroom and headed in that direction. The 'Ladies' was a beautifully appointed as I expected, however when I came out I had a surprise. Reggie was talking to a tall distinguished looking man, and as I approached, he smiled and held out his hand.

“Miss Stow, I very pleased to meet you. I am Joseph Merrick, the Manager of this theatre. Your husband told me that you are currently the resident artist for Hiram Thompson's East Devon Theatre company. I know Hiram quite well. Your husband also told me that he is probably in trouble for alerting me to your presence, but I am so glad he did, so I hope you'll forgive him.”

I smiled graciously, saying “Of course”, while thinking to myself 'Just you wait until we're alone Reginald Staunton.'

Joseph continued: “I understand that you'd love to see the auditorium of our theatre. It's only recently undergone a full restoration and we're very proud of it. I'd love to take you on a conducted tour.”

“But the sign says there is a rehearsal in progress,” I said.

“Your timing is perfect as they've just stopped for a break. Come, let me show you around,” he said, leading us through the doors..

I gasped as I viewed the wonderfully ornate auditorium which carried on the Baroque style. The deep red velvet drapes matched the seating and carpets. In answer to my questions I was told that the theatre seats two thousand, eight hundred and forty-four people. It's the home of the Albany Symphony Orchestra and hosts concerts, both classical and popular, plays, classic cinema, private functions, graduations, dance competitions, you name it, they do it.

“It's actually run by the Palace Performing Arts Center Inc, which is a not-for-profit organisation. Come, let me show you the stage area,” he said, and we followed him down the aisle.

I was very impressed with the modern facilities and told him so. He beamed with pleasure.

“Maybe, one day we'll have the pleasure of seeing you perform on this stage,” he said.

“That would be wonderful,” I replied.

Mischievously I asked, “Do you have a ghost?”

He laughed. “Sadly, no. You may be confusing this theatre with the Palace Theatre on Broadway which is reputed to have quite a number. Perhaps we should ask if they could send one over. Now of course your British theatres are almost all haunted from what I hear.”

“That's true,” I said laughing. I wasn't going to tell him about my own experiences in London and also when I visited Melbourne, Australia. People tend not to take you seriously if you tell them you believe you've actually seen ghosts in a theatre.

We concluded our visit with a complimentary drink (mineral water for me as I was driving, but a Budweiser for Reggie).

To conclude our visit to Albany, we travelled to the viewing deck of the forty-two floor Erastus Corning Tower, where we enjoyed a panoramic view of Albany.

You may be wondering about my promise to myself to deal with Reggie after he approached the manager of the Palace Theatre. Well I'd let him stew for a while, wondering how much trouble he was in. Finally, I couldn't keep him on tenterhooks any longer.

“How did you happen to meet the manager of the Palace Theatre?” I said casually.

“Actually, it was quite by chance. While I was waiting for you I saw him crossing the lobby. He looked like he might be someone important in the theatre, so I took a chance and told him how you would love to see the auditorium, followed by who you are. When I mentioned the Imperial Shakespeare Company and what you are doing here, he looked very impressed.”

“Reggie, it was a lovely thought and I'm not really cross with you, but you know I hate to ask favours just because of who I am. I've never understood why entertainers, whether on stage, screen or the sports field are looked upon with awe and in some cases paid ridiculous amounts of money. I mean it's not like the world would grind to a halt if we stopped doing what we do. The really important people are scientists, medical specialists and researchers, philosophers, people like that. The world really would be worse off if they stopped doing what they're doing.”

There was no-one else around, so I took his hand and stood on tiptoes to kiss him

“I love you Reggie and I always will,” I said softly.

He put his arms around me and we kissed again. Just then we heard the lift arriving, so we had to stop and pretend to be just enjoying the view.

I've forgotten to mention that while he was in America I did ask Reggie how Stella was doing.

“She's a proper little chatterbox now,” he said. “I suppose it goes with living in a theatrical household and having an actress for a stepmother.”

“What are we going to do about her, Reggie?” I asked. “I know that none of us is actually related to her, but we feel that we are. I'm sure that she thinks that Emma and Duncan are her parents. That's only natural, but one day she'll have to be told the real situation, well not all of it of course.”

“I understand what you are saying but for the time being, where she's living is a far more stable environment than we can give her,” replied Reggie, and he was right of course. I decided not to keep worrying about it; things would sort themselves out in due course.

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, menus and correct American idioms for this and the following chapters while Harriet visits the United States.

Author's note: For anyone interested in seeing pictures of the Palace Theatre in Albany, you can Google 'Palace Theater Albany New York' for a great selection. I should mention that while the theatre exists, the manager's name isn't genuine. You probably guessed that!

Chapter 21   Tanglewood

Reggie was returning to England the following day and I wouldn't see him again for a month. I clung to him during the night, feeling miserable that we were to be parted again so soon. We would be in contact every day by telephone or email of course, but it wasn't the same.

“Did I make a mistake becoming a professional actress?” I asked him. “If I'd done it as a hobby, or even stayed with the Apollo Players, then I would be home with you every night.”

It was dark, but I knew by the tone of his voice that Reggie was smiling: “Harriet, darling, if you weren't doing what you're doing you would be thoroughly miserable and thinking about what might have been. As for the Apollo Players, I know you've helped them out from time to time, but the truth is that you've outgrown them, and if you were there permanently, the others would be jealous of you because you'd keep showing them up even without meaning to.”

He was right of course and it wasn't the first time he had told me that, but I was still going to miss him so much and I wanted to be reassured.

Reggie got up at six o'clock for the long drive back to Boston with Henry. He told me I should stay in bed, but of course, I had to get up to see him off. Every second with him was precious. Ellen also rose early, and she prepared breakfast for us all, which we had on the kitchen table with her and Henry. Then came the moment I was dreading, when I had to kiss him goodbye and watch 'Annabel' disappear down the drive and out of sight. I confess I went back to my room and had a little cry. I was missing him so much already.
It was fortunate that I had to go back to the theatre that morning, as it gave me something to occupy my mind.

I haven't written much about the other play which the company was due to perform – 'Much Ado About Nothing'. Rehearsals had gone very well, and on this Monday, the final dress rehearsal was to be held. After that was over I'd be having a light meal and then staying on for the evening performance of 'Romeo and Juliet'.

Miranda and I sat together and watched the dress rehearsal of 'Much Ado' and agreed that if the company performed as well the following evening then we would have nothing to complain about.

“I'm really glad that you are here since I know that if anyone was sick, you could step into the rôle,” she said. “I've never met anyone with such a phenomenal memory.”

“Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that,” I replied. “I've done my share of stepping in at the last minute, and while I'd do it of course, I'd rather the current cast performed the play.”

The first performance of “Much Ado” the following day went very well, and since I wasn't in the play, I had no reason to be on stage, although I did sit with the Thompsons in the front row. It felt strange to be watching a play In which I had been so involved, but not actually taking part in it. Inevitably there was the odd slip-up in the text which I'm sure no-one else noticed, just me. At the conclusion, Miranda again appeared onstage again. Diplomatically she mentioned the Thompsons first “without whose support this season could not have been held”. Hiram again stood and turning around, waved to the audience, enjoying the applause and his moment in the spotlight – literally!. She then thanked me for my assistance and there was more applause, so I felt obliged to stand, turn to the audience and bow.

After the audience had departed, Magnolia, Hiram and I went backstage to congratulate everyone on a fine performance, before Henry drove us back to the house. Now that both plays had had successful opening nights, I felt a huge sense of relief. It was too late then, but the following day in my regular phone call to Reggie I told him that everything had gone well and they seemed to think I had something to do with it, so I guessed I had earned my money.

Two weeks passed and in between performances and rehearsals, I continued to work on my recital program. It would naturally contain Shakespeare, both speeches from his plays and also some of the sonnets, including the more famous ones. However, in acknowledgment of my visit to America, I included some American poets such as Edgar Alan Poe's 'Annabel Lee' which I thought I would keep as an encore, presuming the audience demanded one, and one of his most famous works 'The Raven'. Others that I chose were “To My Dear and Loving Husband” by Ann Bradstreet; and 'The Village Blacksmith” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

I was keeping in touch with the Rabinovich children who would provide my musical interludes and about a week later when I had finalised the order of my recitations, their father rang and asked if I would do them the honour of visiting them one evening for dinner and also to hear Miram and Itzak play the chosen pieces. These now included a couple of more contemporary pieces to introduce the American works I would recite. I said I would be delighted. Sunday was the only day I was sure I would be free, so that was agreed upon.

The Rabinovichs lived in Albany, about an hour's drive away, and Hiram insisted that Henry drive me there, which I appreciated, especially as I would be coming back after dark. I was a confident driver, but still, a woman on her own in a strange country has to consider whether it is wise to be driving in such circumstances. When I mentioned this to Mr Rabinovich, he understood completely, and said that Henry would be welcome to wait for me in the company of his cook, Mrs Rubenstein, who would provide him with a meal. I felt a bit awkward about that, but realised that Henry might feel more relaxed if he was in the company of their staff rather than sitting with the Rabinovichs..

Britain is generally known as the home of 'class consciousness', not that everyone lives in 'Downton Abbey' of course! For that reason I found it strange that the first time I personally encountered two 'upstairs/downstairs' situations was in America. I should make it clear that both the Thompsons and Rabinovichs were thoroughly nice people and not snobbish in any way. It was just that they had a lot more money than the average person, lived in large houses and could afford to employ the staff to run them.

The meal was excellent as I was coming to expect. How was I going to readjust to the sort of meals I was used to producing in England?

The menu consisted of a Caesar salad, followed by Beef Wellington, fresh asparagus, and a simple baked potato.

“Some guests expect shellfish or lobster, but unfortunately it is forbidden by our religion,” said Mr Rabinovich.

I smiled: “The meal is superb, so please don't apologise.”

For dessert, we had a Boston Cream Pie. I should mention that it isn't really a pie at all, but a two-layer vanilla cake with chocolate icing and a custard filling. Yes, it tastes as delicious as it sounds, but I wouldn't have it too often, it would wreak havoc with the waistline!

Afterwards, we retired with liqueurs to the music room which was dominated by a resplendent Steinway grand piano.

“Itzak, I forgot to mention that I have arranged to hire a Steinway piano from the company you mentioned, for our recital, I spoke to a Mr Merkal and mentioned your name which of course he knew and I explained why I need it.”

Ityzak said: “I bet he told you that it was a good choice and that a Steinway is always a Steinway...”

“But anything else is just a piano,” I finished for him and we all laughed.

Miriam took out her violin and checked the tuning, and then they started to play the first piece. I have to say that with Itzak playing a quality piano, the difference was amazing. These were two very talented young people and they would enhance my recital enormously. I hoped that giving them more public exposure would be of benefit to them as well. A real win-win situation.

I couldn't help being reminded of the brother and sister Yehudi and Hephzibah Menuhin, although in their case it was the brother who played the violin and the sister the piano. I could see the Rabinovich children enjoying similar glittering careers.

We went through the order of the program, making some minor adjustments and I recited the start and end of the pieces I would perform before and after each musical item. I promised to get them printed out so that they would know when to come back onto the stage.

Then Itzak sprang something on me: “What's your singing voice like Harriet?” he asked.

“Well I've had to do a little singing in Shakespeare plays as there are over a hundred songs in them,” I replied, sensing where this was going.

“How about including one in your recital? 'It was a lover and his lass' from 'As You Like It' is not too complicated,” he said. “I just happen to have the words and music here.”

He pulled out a couple of sheets of music. “The text isn't hard to learn, there's a lot of repetition.”

I smiled. “It's not the text that worries me, it's my singing voice. Alright, I'll give it a try, but you must be brutally honest with me. If you think I should stick with the spoken word you must tell me.”

Itjak played the tune for me twice and he was right, it wasn't too complicated. I gave it my best shot, and afterwards said to my 'audience' “That was awful wasn't it.”

To my surprise, they hastened to assure me that it was really good for a first time.

“How about I record the tune and also the accompaniment onto a CD for you to take away and practise. You can make a final decision closer to the time of the recital?” said Itzak.

They seemed really keen for me to do it, so I agreed to his proposal. While the rest of us retired to the dining room for a coffee, Itzak set up a recorder and made the CD for me.

Then Henry was contacted to drive me back to the Thompsons. As usual, I sat in the front with him. I wasn't going to play the lady by sitting in the back. As we drove back I wondered what I had got myself into with the song. Still, if I wasn't happy, that could always be left out. After all, there was no fixed program.

The season continued, and everything was going very smoothly. No-one was sick, so I wasn't called upon to step in and help out, and I was glad of that. I was content to just do the two prologues and that wasn't every day of course. Finally the day arrived that Richard came back to America to start rehearsing for our 'gala performance'. Henry went to pick him up from the airport in Boston and he was welcomed back to the Thompson household. I must say that he behaved himself and there were no more night-time knocks on my door.

Now we had to rehearse with the rest of the company in the mornings. Julie and Dean had agreed that she would perform the first prologue and he would do the second. They seemed quite content to do that. Richard and I knew the text backwards of course, so it wasn't too hard for us to slot in with the rest of the cast and the rehearsals went very well. Miranda was directing and we had both told her not to be afraid to tell us if we could improve anything, but there was very little comment from her. Three days before the performance we went to Tanglewood to rehearse in the Seiji Ozawa Hall. We were informed that the twelve hundred seat auditorium was sold out and they could have probably sold as many seats again, but Hiram wanted to keep it 'exclusive' and the ticket prices reflected this.

New scenery had been built as the sets used in East Devon were too small, and it was 'bumped in' overnight before we arrived for our first rehearsal. When a play changes to another venue, especially one where the stage and sets are a different size, the cast has to adjust accordingly, but everyone seemed to manage very well. The final run through was a dress rehearsal on the afternoon of the performance and that's when it happened.

It was entirely my own fault. We had just rehearsed the balcony scene and I was wearing a floor-length nightdress. At the rear of the balcony set was a rather steep wooden staircase with a handrail and carpet attached to the steps to deaden the sound. I had tried negotiating it in my costume a couple of times with no problem since I lifted the hem of the nightdress well clear of my feet. This time I was in a hurry and as I descended the steps, the material slipped out of my hand and my foot caught in the hem. The last thing I remembered was the floor coming up to meet me and then … blackness.

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, menus and correct American idioms for this and the following chapters while Harriet visits the United States.
I'd also like to acknowledge a suggestion from Christina H which I incorporated into this chapter. She loves cliffhangers so much she even suggested one, which I guess took the element of surprise out of it for her I'm most grateful to her for the idea and hope it doesn't make me look like a plagiarist!

Chapter 22   'Tanglefoot'

“She's coming round,” said a far-away but familiar voice. I slowly opened my eyes and realised that I was lying on my back on a rather hard mattress, looking at a white ceiling with fluorescent lights. A face appeared in my field of view. It was blurred at first but gradually sharpened. It was Magnolia.

“What happened? Where am I?” I croaked in a voice that didn't sound like my own as I uttered those timeless words.

“You're in the Baystate Medical Center in Springfield. You had a fall at the theatre,” said Magnolia.

“The theatre! Oh my goodness, I'm meant to be performing, I have to go,” I said, struggling to try and sit up.

A man's head replaced Magnolia's. “Miss Stow, I'm Dr. Ramsay. You suffered concussion and two sprained wrists when you fell, and I'm afraid you are in no fit state to go anywhere, let alone perform on stage,” he said, gently but firmly pressing me back on the bed. It was then that I realised that I could feel a bandage around my head and also around my wrists.

“Oh lord, Julie will have to do it, someone will have to tell her,” I said, my head still swimming.

“It's alright Harriet. Everything's in hand. Julie will perform for you. She sends her love and best wishes, in fact everyone does. She asked me to tell you that she's feeling fine about performing,” said Magnolia.

“Was Hiram mad at me for spoiling the gala performance?” I asked. It was the first time I had used his first name when speaking to Magnolia.

“Not at all,” she replied. “He was very worried about you, we all were. You need to rest now; I'll ring Tanglewood and let them know that you are recovering.”

She squeezed my hand and left, then Dr. Ramsay took over again.

“While you were asleep, we scanned your head and did x-rays of your wrists and you'll be pleased to know that nothing is broken, but you may have a headache for a few days and also a nasty bruise, but nothing that makeup can't conceal.”

I managed a faint smile at that, thinking to myself that I'd found another advantage of being a woman.

I was anxious to ring Reggie and tell him that I was alright. It was better that I spoke to him directly, than someone else passing on a message. This I did, but apparently I still sounded a bit 'away with the fairies' as he told me later, so after I hung up, he phoned Magnolia to get her take on what had happened. He was assured that there was no need for him to rush over and that he would be telephoned immediately if need be. The doctor was convinced that it was only mild concussion and that I'd be fine in a few days.

Soon afterwards, a nurse came along and gave me an injection. It must have been a sedative because I slept for about twelve hours, which I'm sure did me tremendous good. I had been working very hard while in America, not physical work so much as mental work, and I was really very tired.

Later I heard what happened when I fell. I hit the stage with such a thump that even those who didn't see me fall came rushing around to the back of the set. I must have looked a sight, lying spread-eagled and out cold. Miranda was very good. She took charge and immediately called for the ambulance service to be contacted. She established that I was breathing and insisted that I not be moved in case I had broken any bones. Fortunately that was not the case, although I had instinctively stretched out my hands to save myself and that resulted in the wrist sprains.

The ambulance arrived very quickly and the paramedics assessed me, put me on a stretcher and loaded me into the ambulance which then departed, lights flashing and sirens wailing, for Springfield, the nearest hospital which had an Emergency Department, or 'ER” as it's generally known there.

Miranda went to find Julie, sat her down and told her that it was highly unlikely that I would be able to perform, so they would be relying on her to step in. Julie could have fallen into a screaming heap, but she was surprisingly calm and said that thanks to all my coaching she was sure that she could do it. James would now perform both the prologues. There was a thirty minute break so that everyone could settle down. Richard, bless him, spoke to Julie and told her that he had every confidence in her ability to perform as 'Juliet'. Everyone was doing everything they could to boost her confidence. They started the rehearsal again from the beginning and everything went very smoothly.

That evening, before the performance started, there was an announcement made that I had suffered an accident and that Julie would be performing instead. This caused a murmur in the audience as you can imagine. Let's face it, if Richard had been unable to perform there might have been requests for money back, but everyone seem to accept the fact that I wouldn't be there. No-one asked for a refund. When I heard that, I didn't know if I should be offended or not!

I awoke the next morning feeling a lot better, apart from the headache Dr. Ramsay had promised me. I was asked if I would like something to eat and I realised that I was ravenous. After some sandwiches and a cup of coffee, which was the best they could offer as it was long past breakfast time, I felt a lot better. I was also given a tablet for the headache.

I had just turned on the television which hung from the ceiling near the foot of the bed when a nurse came in.

“There's someone to see you Miss Stow,” she said. “Are you up to receiving visitors?”

She looked all starry-eyed, and I had no trouble in guessing who was there.

“Yes, please send Richard in,” I said, and she looked a bit embarrassed that I had so easily guessed the identity of my visitor.

Richard entered bearing a huge bunch of flowers.

“Some people will do anything to get out of performing with me,” he said, pretending to be grumpy, as he approached the bed and kissed my cheek.

“Richard, darling, what lovely flowers! Thank you. Now you know it's not true about avoiding performing with you; I just had a 'tanglefoot' moment.”

He roared with laughter: “Well I'm glad to see it hasn't dented your sense of humour.”

“Even if it dented my head?” I replied. I was really glad to see him.

“Did I ever tell you about the time when I was playing Hamlet and my sword got tangled between my legs? Somehow I stayed upright, but I was told later that I should become a ballet dancer since pirouetting came so naturally to me.”

“So tell me everything. How did last night go?”

“Really well,” he replied. “Julie is a good little actress; not as good as you of course, but she's getting there. She gives you great credit for her performance. Apparently you've been giving her a lot of coaching.”

“I consider it my duty to look after the next generation,” I said.

“Next generation? You're not exactly an old lady yourself.”

“I know, but I sometimes feel it, especially when I meet someone like Julie.”

“Well, she put on an excellent performance, and I rewarded her accordingly,” he said straight-faced.

“Richard! You didn't!”

He laughed again: “The look on your face! No of course I didn't, even if she did instantly fall in love with me. It was just a kiss on the cheek. I made enquiries and apparently she has the hots for young Dean. Who am I to stand in the way of young love?”

Richard and I will always be friends, even if he does love teasing me unmercifully. I suppose the fact that we have a little 'history' has something to do with it. He told me that he was on his way to the airport and that Henry was waiting for him with 'Annabel', so I didn't keep him any longer. After he left, the same nurse came back to check my 'obs'.

“How do you know Richard Jenkins?” she said in awed tones.

“Oh we've performed together a few times,” I replied airily.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know,” she said, blushing. “So you're an actress?”

Talk about stating the obvious, but I was kind: “Yes I am, but mostly on stage in England so it's not surprising that you haven't heard of me,” I replied.

“And you're acting here?” she persisted.

“I was supposed to be performing Juliet in 'Romeo and Juliet' last night until I took a dive from the stairs. Have you heard of it?” I enquired.

“Oh yes, we did it at school, but I found that old English very hard to understand.”

“Yes, it can be,” I conceded. “That's why it's better to hear it acted than just reading it.”

It was funny in a way that her attitude towards me changed so dramatically, not that she hadn't been friendly before, but now she treated me as though I was royalty.

I was feeling much better now and wondered how much longer they would keep me in. I made enquiries of Dr. Ramsay when he arrived again to check me, and was disappointed when he said I should stay one more night to be on the safe side. I occupied my time by rehearsing in my mind my recital which was only a few days off. I decided that one more night at the hospital would be worth it to make sure that I was fit for my solo performance.

That evening Magnolia and Hiram arrived to see me. I immediately apologised for my non-appearance at Tanglewood, but he was very kind, saying it could have happened to anyone.

“Do you think you'll be well enough to do your recital?” he said.

“Yes, I'm sure I will be,” I replied. I could tell he had something on his mind.

“Actually, there's been a huge response to the performance, especially after your accident. The theatre is totally sold out and people are clamouring for tickets. Do you think you could possibly do a matinée the following day? Miranda tells me the theatre will be free then.”

“I'm sure I could,” I replied. “But I'm not sure if the two young musicians can make it. You'll have to ask them.”

“Of course I'll do that,” he replied, a relieved look on his face.

He didn't fool me for a moment; he's a man after all and certainly not an actor. I knew that tickets were being sold for the matinée already, and I could have made things very awkward for him if I'd refused. However, I felt I owed him after my no-show at Tanglewood, and this would go some way to making up for that. I was also quite sure that he had already approached the Rabinovichs and obtained their agreement to perform. I felt that it was the right time to put in a good word for them.

“The young Rabinovichs are very talented; you'll be amazed when you hear them,” I said. “I can see them enjoying a stellar career.”

What I was too smart to say outright but certainly implied, was that anyone who helped their career along in any way would bask in the reflected glory of 'discovering' them. I was sure that Hiram took that onboard and future events proved me right.

I enjoyed another long sleep that night and the following morning felt even better. Dr. Ramsay agreed that I could leave the hospital and provided I had another few days rest, saw no reason why I shouldn't perform the recital. As arranged, I called the Thompson residence and was informed that Henry would arrive to pick me up in about an hour, bringing some clothes packed by Magnolia. After all, I had been brought to the medical centre wearing a hospital gown over my underwear, since they needed the costume I had been wearing, for the play. Later Miranda assured me that she had supervised the change-over while I was unconscious, thus sparing my blushes.

In due course, Henry arrived and I put on my clothes and some basic makeup with help from the nurse, since my wrists were still bandaged. I was taken in a wheelchair down to the ground floor foyer where I signed various papers and produced my insurance policy which Magnolia had thoughtfully sent along. Hiram had already told them that he was guarantor for any extra changes, and apparently that was good enough for them. It's very different to the British National Health Service over there. I was helped into the front seat of 'Annabel', and we set off for East Devon.

As we drove along I asked Henry if he had seen the gala performance of 'Romeo and Juliet'.

“No I didn't, Miss Harriet,” he replied. “After your accident I was too busy taking Mr and Mrs Thompson to the hospital.”

“I only saw Mrs Thompson,” I replied.

“Well Mr Thompson was there. I haven't seen him look so worried in a long time. Maybe you were still asleep when he visited you.”

I had assumed that he attended the performance so that made me feel very kindly towards him.

When we arrived at 'Tara', Magnolia fussed over me like a mother hen, and I had to diplomatically point out that I wasn't an invalid. I could still dress myself; it just took a little longer.

I failed to notice that Henry wasn't around, after he dropped me off at the house. Later, Magnolia helped me change into one of my gowns and insisted on escorting me down the stairs.

“Do you think they'll ever give me another rôle that involves walking downstairs?” I asked Magnolia, and we both laughed.

“I'm sure they will, because they know you'll be the most careful actress around,” she replied.

We had our usual glass of sherry, and it seemed to me that dinner was taking longer than usual to be announced. It was then that we heard the crunch of wheels on the gravel outside, and a few minutes later, in walked...“Reggie!” I gasped.

It was totally unexpected and I was so pleased to see him.

Later that night when we were in bed together, he said: “They told me there was no need to come over, but I couldn't just sit there on the other side of the Atlantic worrying about you, so I rang the Dean's office and told them what happened and that I'd be away for a few days. Then I booked my ticket. I hope you'll forgive me for arriving unannounced.”

“Forgive you? Oh my darling, there's nothing to forgive. You're the sweetest, most caring man alive, and it's wonderful to see you again so soon. I'm sure it will help me recover more quickly.”

“I couldn't work out what to do; it seemed rude to invite myself back to the Thompsons', so I rang here and spoke to Magnolia, telling her I had to come over to see you but I'd make my own way to East Devon and stay in a motel. Of course she would have none of it and insisted that Henry pick me up and that I stay here again. It was very kind of her.”

“She's a very kind person, they both are,” I replied.

“This is hard to believe, but yesterday evening after I booked my ticket, Dame Emily rang me. Somehow she'd heard about your accident, and sends her love and best wishes for a speedy recovery. She said she would catch up with you when you are back in England.”

“That's very kind of her. I'll certainly ring and thank her,” I said. “Now, if you don't mind, I really need to get some sleep.”.

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, menus and correct American idioms for this and the following chapters while Harriet visits the United States.

Chapter 23   The Recital

I had taken Itzak's advice and arranged to have the hired piano delivered about a week before the recital so that it had time to acclimatise to the different location. Moving such a large piano needs specialists, and I'm glad it wasn't a full 'concert grand'. Even so, it took four very large men to move it into position at the back of the wings to take up as little room as possible.

A tuner arrived two days before the concert to check that all was well and the day before, the piano was wheeled onto the stage and Itzak was brought to the theatre by his mother so that he could try it for himself. I could have sat and listened to him play all day, he was quite brilliant.

It was wonderful to have Reggie there with me but I wondered what he would do while I was busy at the theatre. He had brought along some textbooks as he was coming up to his final exams and said he would find himself a quiet corner at the theatre to study, so I wasn't to worry about him.

The season was coming to an end with my recital on Friday evening, the added matinée on Saturday afternoon, and the final performance of 'Romeo and Juliet' on Saturday evening. That effectively brought my residency to an end. I knew that I was going to miss working in America. I had learned a lot myself and hoped that I had passed on some of my knowledge too.

I had discussed with Miranda the program for my recital, and it was very much a work in progress with amendments after my no-show at Tanglewood. Miranda suggested that I include some speeches from 'Romeo and Juliet' and when I demurred, she pointed out that some of the audience would be people who had been disappointed not to see me perform the rôle, so I was finally persuaded. The printed programme merely said that I would be performing excerpts from Shakespeare's plays and also some of his sonnets. In addition, I would be performing works by other poets.

The evening of my recital arrived. Mr and Mrs Rabinovich were there of course, and Mrs Rabinovich came into the dressing room which I was sharing with Miriam, to help her get dressed. Penny, the theatre's makeup artist arrived to perform her magic which is designed to appear natural on stage by enhancing our features. This was something new for Miriam and her mother. Penny, then went to apply a little makeup to Itzak as well. This is fairly basic for men, usually just some cleanser, moisturizer, foundation, blusher, eyeliner, a little lip gloss and powder. It sounds more than it is really. As with women's makeup, the aim is to look natural under the unnatural lighting of the stage.

Miriam and I were dressed in floor-length gowns and Itzak in a black tie and dinner suit. White tie and tails would have seemed a bit 'over the top'. We hadn't conducted a 'dress rehearsal' as such, although I had gone through the program with them several times and we had settled on various aspects of the presentation. They had given performances to several hundred pupils at their school but this was their first performance in a theatre before a paying audience, so it wouldn't have surprised me if they were nervous. I did my best to keep them calm by showing them how relaxed I was and it seemed to work.

When the starting time approached, the three of us were standing in the wings. One thing I had mentioned to them was that it was 'professional' to start on time. We could hear the murmur of the audience and then it went quiet. This was an indication that the house lights had been dimmed. The stage lights came up as the curtains parted and the two young people walked onto the stage to applause. Watching from the wings I saw them both bow, and then Itzak sat at the piano with Miriam standing where he could see her. He nodded to her and began to play.

There was no sign of nerves and they both played beautifully. The applause at the end was loud and well deserved. Itzak stood up and they both bowed. Part of the art of stage performance is timing. I was determined not to deprive them of the applause they richly deserved and waited until it started to die down before I walked onto the stage, at which point it increased in volume again.

The house was full. There in the front row were Hiram and Magnolia, accompanied by their daughter Andrea on one side and Reggie on the other, taking their son's seat as he had been unable to get leave. The Rabinovichs were sitting beside Reggie.

I smiled and waited for the applause to die down before opening with a joke which I had run past the Thompsons for their approval.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen; my name is Harriet Stow. It's wonderful to see so many people here tonight; I had no idea that Mr and Mrs Thompson had so many relatives.” This triggered laughter as I intended. Turning, I continued: “I am thrilled to share the stage this evening with two very special guests, Miriam and Itzak Rabinovich. These two young people are sister and brother and come from Albany. The piece they just played, William Byrd's choral work 'Though Amaryllis Dance in Green' was adapted for violin and piano by Itzak.”

There was more applause and when it died, I said: “I'm sure you will be pleased to know that you will be hearing more from them throughout the evening.”

Miram and Itzak then left the stage. We were off to a good start.

“Many of you know that I was going to perform with Richard Jenkins the title roles in 'Romeo and Juliet' at Tanglewood a few days ago,” I continued. “Unfortunately I had an accident from which I hasten to add, I am now fully recovered, but I could not perform on the night. I have therefore decided to recite some lines from the 'Balcony Scene', the most famous one in the play. Imagine if you will that it is night and Juliet stands on the balcony outside her bedchamber gazing over the Capulet's moonlit orchard, and initially unaware that Romeo can hear her.”

The lighting dimmed and changed to imitate the blue of moonlight and I was picked out in a spotlight as I started to speak:

'O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet...'

I then followed it with the speech:

' Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek...'

When I finished speaking the applause was very gratifying. I bowed and waited until it stopped before continuing.

“This second piece occurs much later in the play. Juliet is about to drink the vial provided by Friar Lawrence which will send her into a sleep so deep that her family will think she has poisoned herself and is dead. She is scared to drink it and fears she may wake in the tomb surrounded by the remains of her ancestors before Romeo arrives to free her, or worse still that it does not work at all, in which case she has resolved to stab herself to death, rather than marry Paris as her father wishes.”

I walked over to a little table at the side of the stage, picked up a small glass vial and began to speak:

'I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life:
I'll call them back again to comfort me:
Nurse! What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone...'

At the end of the speech as I lifted the vial to my lips all the lights on stage went out in what is known as a blackout. There was a shocked silence from the audience and then applause as the lights slowly came up again. I know it was a theatrical effect, but I wanted my performance to be more than just me standing there reciting; I wanted to draw the audience into the work. I should mention that I had insisted that Bill the lighting designer get a prominent credit for his work which added so much to the atmosphere of the performance.

To lighten the mood, I continued with one of the sonnets, which I introduced explaining how a sonnet is constructed and followed it with one of the most famous:

'Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments...'

Then I introduced Miriam and Itzak again to play a work by Thomas Tallis, a contemporary of William Shakespeare - 'If Ye Love Me'.

“Edgar Allan Poe is almost a local since he was born in Boston,” I said when I came back onstage. “He is well known for his stories of mystery and the macabre, but also for his poems. One of the most famous is 'The Raven'.”

One line from this poem everyone seems to know is 'Quoth the Raven – Nevermore' and I could tell this from the audience's reaction every time I said it.

The program continued, and I will not test your patience by detailing every work. Suffice it to say that everything was very well received so that when the interval arrived and the three of us returned to one dressing room to have some light refreshment, we had reason to feel very happy.

We had finished our light supper, had our makeup checked and were preparing to resume the performance when there was a knock on the door and Rebecca Rabinovich entered the room. She was bubbling over with her news.

“Children, your father and I have just been talking to Mr Hiram Thompson and he would like you to perform a recital in this theatre in a few month's time. What do you think of that?”

Miriam and Itzak's were speechless, but their faces broke out into broad smiles.

“That's wonderful news,” I said.

Rebecca looked at me: “And if you say you had nothing to do with this Harriet, I won't believe you!”

I smiled. “The concert is Mr Thompson's idea, but perhaps I sowed the seed when I mentioned how confident I am that Miriam and Itzak are bound for brilliant careers both individually and together. By the way, if there are compliments flying around we mustn't exclude Miranda Strange who first suggested the names of Miriam and Itzak when I said I would like some musical interludes in my recital.”

“That's very kind of you, but please don't downplay your part in all this,” said Rebecca.

Just then the bells began to ring, summoning the audience back to their seats and us to get ready to go onstage. Turning to the two young people I asked them to go ahead and I would following a few minutes. I wanted a moment alone with their mother.

When they had walked out of the room, I said to Rebecca: “That's great news. I know that excellent though they are already, both Miriam and Itzak will benefit from expert tuition, maybe overseas. Mr Thompson has the means and contacts to make that happen.”

I paused for a second, wondering if Rebecca would take offence at my remarks but fortunately she didn't.

“I understand what you mean Harriet. Menachem and I are comfortable financially, but we're not billionaires, and we certainly don't have Hiram's contacts.”

I smiled gratefully. I do open my mouth before putting my brain into gear sometimes. Suddenly I realised time was passing, and I could hear Miriam and Itzak playing in the distance. I needed to get to the wings ready to make my entrance, and Rebecca needed to slip back into her seat at the end of the music.

When Miriam and Itzak finished and enjoyed their applause, they waited for me onstage. This was my 'big moment' and I felt the tiniest bit nervous which is unusual for me, but I masked it with a smile as I walked on.

“Many of Shakespeare's plays contain songs, in fact, there are over one hundred of them, something I didn't know until recently. For that reason, almost all Shakespearean actors have to sing at some point in their careers and I am no exception. For that reason, I've been persuaded to present just one song. It's from 'As You Like It'; the music is by Thomas Morley, a contemporary of Shakespeare and it's called 'It was a lover and his lass'.

Itzak played the introduction and I began to sing:

'It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
That o’er the green cornfield did pass,
In springtime, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring...'

At the conclusion of the song I was surprised at the volume of applause; after all, I am an actress who sings, not a singer who acts.

The performance continued, and I included a few American authors to please my audience. In between items, I spoke a little about my life on the stage and how my time in America was coming to an end and soon I would be playing on a stage far away but where it was I did not yet know.

“You could describe the career of an actor as a 'vagrant gypsy life',” I said. “And if that phrase sounds familiar, it comes from one of the most famous poems ever written about the sea, ships and the people who sail in them, 'Sea Fever' by John Masefield. In fact, the poem is a metaphor for life itself, so why don't I share it with you?”

Up to that moment I had not included it in the programme, but sometimes a 'spur of the moment' decision is a good one.

'I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by...'

When I finished there was silence in the theatre for a good ten seconds before the applause which from where I stood on the stage, sounded like the roaring of surf breaking on a beach, or is that my overactive imagination?

My final work was Shakespeare's famous Sonnet No 18, 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' and at the conclusion, I bowed and walked off the stage. I reappeared with Miriam and Itzak and we all took our bows in turn and finally linking hands bowed again and again and the applause became a standing ovation. I could feel the two young people's excitement through our linked hands.

Even when we left the stage the applause continued. Miranda had warned me that East Devon audiences expect an encore, so eventually, I walked back onstage and the applause turned to cheers. It was enough to turn a girl's head.

“Thank you all so much,” I said. “This has been a truly wonderful evening for Miriam, Itzak and me, and it seems you enjoyed yourselves too. (More cheers.) I'm told that an encore is mandatory, so once more I'm turning to Edgar Allan Poe. This is the last complete poem he wrote and was published in 1849. It was the first poem I recited on this trip to America, so it seems appropriate that it should be the last. It is called 'Annabel Lee'."

There was more cheering; it seemed that everyone in the audience had at least heard of it.

At the end, the applause was thunderous again. It seemed that they didn't want the recital to end, so I held up my hand for silence and gave them a final quote from Shakespeare, this time from 'The Tempest'

'Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.'

“Thank you. God bless you. God bless America and goodnight.”

More applause, but this time, after a final bow, as I walked off the stage, the stage lights were dimmed and the house lights came up signalling the end of the performance.

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, menus and correct American idioms for the chapters where Harriet visits the United States.

For anyone interested, all the music mentioned can be found on Youtube and the poems and excerpts partially quoted can also be found online.

Chapter 24   Au revoir America

Back in our dressing room, Miriam was close to jumping up and down with excitement. She hugged me, saying: “Thank you so much Harriet, this is the best day of my life! Did you hear how they were applauding? You were amazing!”

“The applause wasn't just for me, Miriam. You and Itzak were great. I've been around long enough to know when an audience is applauding to be polite, but tonight they really loved your playing. I know there will be a lot of hard work involved, but you both have a great future to look forward to.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked. She was a sweet girl and very modest about her talent.

I smiled. “I don't want to give you a swelled head, but yes, I really think so,” I replied. “I'm looking forward to tomorrow afternoon, and I do hope we can perform together again in the future.”

Soon Rebecca and Magnolia arrived to congratulate us both. Once we had changed, we made our way to Itzak's dressing room where Reggie, Hiram and Menachem were waiting. Both the young people were so pumped that I was concerned that they would have difficulty sleeping that night. We agreed that celebrations should be delayed until after the matinée performance the following day.

Rebecca and Menachem had decided that it was better for Miriam and Itzak to sleep in their own beds even though it meant an hour's drive home. I was certainly in agreement with that, so we parted company until the following morning. Henry drove us back to the Thompsons' house and after a warm drink we retired to bed.

The following morning, after a late breakfast we returned ot the theatre. I didn't have time the previous night to check with Miranda about the show, but it seems she thought it had all gone well and there was no need to change anything. The Rabinovichs arrived about eleven o'clock and I was pleased to see that the two youngsters were a lot calmer, and looked relaxed and rested. We had a light lunch in the local café and returned to the theatre to prepare for the afternoon's performance.

Just after we had put on our costumes we were told that two young men from the 'East Devon Gazette' had arrived. They were the same two that came to the Thompsons' after the fire. Obviously, working for a small town newspaper, the few members of staff have to handle any story. Tom, the photographer asked if we would go onto the stage to that he could shoot a few pictures of us pretending to perform. Then Gerald, or Gerry as he preferred to be called, interviewed us about our backgrounds and the performance program. There were a few empty seats left, so they were invited to stay for the recital, and I was pleased when they accepted.

When we returned to the dressing room to wait for the performance to start, I recommended to Miriam and Itzak that they start a scrap book or folder and keep all their reviews just as I did.

“It's great to look back on them in the future,” I said. “My mum used to carefully preserve them all for me.”

“Doesn't she still do it?” asked Miriam.

“She passed away not too long ago,” I replied, and of course Miram blushed bright red.

“I'm so sorry!' she gasped.

“Don't feel bad,” I said. “You weren't to know. My sister Emma does it for me now. She's an actress too, but she's taking extended leave to bring up her family. My brother-in-law David is a stage director, so you can see that we are a very theatrical family.”

I could see she was dying to ask me another question but didn't want to put her foot in it again, so I answered it for her.

“I don't have any children, but my husband, Reggie, had a daughter, Stella, with his former wife who was killed in a car accident. That makes me a stepmother, not a term I like since they've always had bad press since 'Cinderella'.”

They both smiled at that, which lightened the mood.

“Stella's currently living with Emma and David, since with Reggie at university and me spending so much time at Stratford, it's a more stable environment for her. We do go and see her a lot.”

Just then we heard the five minute warning announcement, the performance was about to start.

I had been surprised to hear that the Thompsons had decided to attend the second performance. Andrea wasn't present, which didn't offend me at all, and Reggie took her seat. The poor man felt obliged to sit through another performance even though I told him that he could sit in my dressing room and study if he wished. I can't deny it was nice to see him there in the front row.

The recital went well. Of course no two performances are exactly the same, and neither are two audiences. They always react differently to various parts of the show which is surprising when you think that they are made up of hundreds of individuals. I had modified my opening joke to comment that I thought all of the Thompsons' relatives had been present the previous night, but here were even more! I felt a bit more relaxed about my song since the first performance went so well, and at the end of the recital the applause matched that of the previous night, and we received another standing ovation. I thought that we should get a good write-up in the local paper.

After the performance and changing out of our stage clothes, Hiram took us all to the best restaurant in East Devon for a light meal and insisted on paying. Miriam and Itzak were still buzzing with excitement after their first two professional shows. Since neither of them was yet a professional performer, both Hiram and I had given a cheque to their father to be used for their further musical education.

I also gave Miriam the gift of a purse and Itzak a wallet as a memento of the occasion. These were gifts that I had brought over from England in case of suitable occasions that required them, and nothing was better than this weekend. They promised to stay in touch, and I privately asked Miriam if she could email me the date of their recital. I couldn't promise anything since I might be involved in a play in England, but I said I would try to come over for it if I possibly could.

Both of the young people said that after hearing my recitations as Juliet they wished they could have seen me perform at Tanglewood. I mentioned that I had a video recording made during the ISCs international tour and promised to send them a copy. Then Magnolia asked for one too, so I said I would arrange for two NTSC copies when I returned to England.

“Did I hear a rumour that you are playing another season of 'Romeo and Juliet' with Richard Jenkins in Stratford later in the year?” asked Hiram.

I had deliberately not mentioned it since while I knew that Hiram and Magnolia could take a plane to England any time they liked, I didn't know if Rebecca and Menachem could afford to do so, especially if they were taking Miriam and Itzak. However I had been asked the question so I had to reply.

“Yes, that's right, it will be in September. It might be my last season as Juliet; I'm getting a bit old to pretend to be a fourteen year-old girl.”

“I've got a great idea,” said Hiram, looking at the Rabinovichs. “Why don't all six of us fly over to see Harriet perform? It will be my treat.”

No prizes for guessing their response to that!

“Just one thing Harriet, promise me you won't attempt to fly again!” said Hiram, and we all laughed.

“I promise!” I replied.

After our meal finished and hugs and kisses all round, the Rabinovichs returned to Albany and the Thompsons, Reggie and I had to return to the theatre for the final performance of 'Romeo and Juliet' where I would be making my 'cameo performance' as 'Chorus'. I was pleased to see that the Tanglewood performance seemed to have boosted Julie's confidence greatly, and she certainly deserved the applause at the conclusion of the show.

Miranda appeared on the stage after the final curtain call and was very generous in her praise of my contribution to the season, as well as mentioning that I would soon be returning to England, but they hoped to see me in East Devon again in the future. Naturally, she also made mention of Hiram's rôle in supporting the theatre company and once more he stood and acknowledged the applause. I was tempted to suggest to Miranda that she find a part for him as a 'spear carrier' or similar in one of the plays as I was sure he would enjoy it.

And so my time in America came to an end. One thing that I've failed to mention was my introduction with Miranda's approval of a couple of 'relaxed performances' of 'Much Ado About Nothing' during the season. These are performances where people can attend who might otherwise not be able to, since, due to the lack of a baby-sitter or similar, they need to bring along babies, small children or a relative with a mental impairment who might not adhere to normal theatre etiquette and may cry or call out. I don't claim to have invented this, in fact I first came across it at Shakespeare's Globe theatre in London where it was originally trialled with great success and is now an established part of each play's season.

One bonus for the players was the need to think on their feet and be prepared to engage with the audience. For example I remember at one performance a young man with Downs' syndrome calling out to Beatrice “I love you!” and she replied “Thank you so much and thank you for coming to see us today.” His response was “You're welcome.”

The trial was equally successful in East Devon, with many people writing or ringing the theatre to say how much they enjoyed the rare opportunity to attend a performance and before I left I was assured that they would continue the practice.

There was one final event to attend and this was the 'end of season' dinner in which Hiram took over the whole of the best local restaurant for the evening, and all the cast and crews of both plays attended. The food was great, and so was the drink. Speeches were made and I received many compliments for my work. I replied with a brilliant speech, well at least I think it was brilliant, but since I like most of the other participants had consumed a few glasses of wine, I doubt if anyone remembers what I said, I certainly don't!

Reggie and I would be flying back together of course, and since I has a First Class ticket while he had flown over in Economy, I worked out that the best solution was for me to phone the airline and exchange my ticket for Business Class while upgrading Reggie's, and paying the difference in value for the seats. Thus we were able to fly while seated together.

The evening before we left there was a special dinner at the Thompsons' and everyone on the staff attended. Ellen excelled herself with the food and I remarked that she was making it very hard for us to go back to my 'home cooking', and Reggie's 'bachelor cuisine' when I wasn't home. This led to a great deal of laughter. So that Ellen could participate in the meal herself, a friend of hers and I'm told a magnificent cook in her own right, was brought in to assist her.

Just for the record, what we were served was a fruit cup topped with lemon gelave (Italian gelatin), a tossed Cobb salad, prime beef rib au jus, potatoes au gratin and fresh asparagus. For dessert we had Baked Alaska and to finish, espresso coffee with Sambuca liqueur Adding that to the wine served with the meal (I was pleased to see Henry drank mineral water and abstained from the Sambuca), even though I drank sparingly, I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

Hiram and Magnolia spoke about how much they had enjoyed having us stay and that we must stay with them again if we were ever in that part of the world. Hiram complimented me again on my work with the theatre company, saying the difference in their performance standard was amazing. In return I said that I'm sure that was in part due to Miranda's influence as I knew she hadn't been there very long.

I distributed small gifts to all the staff except for Henry as I was intending to get him some single malt whisky on the way to the airport. I promised to stay in touch. When I had a moment alone with Hiram I told him that if it was possible I would come back for Miriam and Itzak's recital.

“I can't promise to fly over as I might be working, but I'd certainly like to come and support them,” I said. “If I do, now that I know the area a bit, I'll make my own way to East Devon and stay in a hotel. I'm sure I'll see you at the recital.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. “I'd never forgive myself, and neither would Magnolia, if we didn't send Henry to pick you up and provide accommodation for you, even if it's only for a couple of days.”

“That's very kind of you,” I replied. “I really feel I'm imposing on your generosity.”

“Harriet, you've done so much for my theatre company, it's the least we can do.”

So we left it at that.

The following morning we were up early and after breakfast and hugs all round, Henry brought 'Annabel' around to the front door and loaded our suitcases into the boot (although of course I referred to it as the 'trunk' to him). Ellen came running out with a package and when I asked her what it was she said: “B&M Boston Baked Beans”! After more hugs, we got into the car and started on the three hour trip to Boston. Reggie was in the front seat for the first half of the journey, changing over with me for the second half. At our half-way break, I bought a bottle of single malt whisky for Henry to give to him when we reached Boston. The journey passed without incident, and chatting away happily and enjoying the scenery, it seemed to be completed in no time. I knew I was going to miss America, but I was also looking forward to getting back home and seeing the rest of the family.

At the airport, I presented Henry with his gift before we left 'Annabel'. He insisted on accompanying us into the airport and wheeling in our suitcases on a trolley to the check-in desk. Before we left him I gave him a hug and Reggie shook his hand as we thanked him for transporting us around. On presenting our Business Class tickets, to my surprise we were upgraded to First Class. I don't think the check-in staff recognised me, but we were dressed smartly and perhaps that helped. Of course, since Hiram knew what I had done with the tickets, there's always a chance he had a hand in the upgrade, but I'll never know for sure.

The flight back was very comfortable as you'd expect. Arriving in Manchester, we took a taxi to Piccadilly Railway Station, and from there, the train to York, which took about an hour and a quarter. Then it was another taxi back to our flat. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the flat was very tidy. I know that most men, even Reggie, tend to be a bit more casual than women as far as keeping a home clean and tidy goes, but he had obviously made a special effort. I sent him out to get some basic food; bread, milk and eggs, while I started to unpack the suitcases. When he returned, he was also carrying a bunch of flowers which was such a nice gesture. What's not to love about that man?

Despite dozing on the flight and the train, we were still ready for bed quite early in the evening. I couldn't really blame jet-lag since York is five hours ahead of Boston, so I'll just put it down to the fact that travelling is tiring. I can't deny that it was nice to snuggle up together in our own bed again.

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, menus and correct American idioms for this series of chapters while Harriet visited the United States.

Chapter 25   A big surprise.

We were up early the following morning, so maybe the time difference worked in our favour. Reggie had to return to university, but I had a couple more days break before I was expected back in Stratford. Emma knew I was back and we had arranged that I would drive over to Bridchester and see her for lunch and a good old 'chin-wag'. I had been in touch during my time away, but there's nothing like a face-to-face chat.

Reggie had regularly started 'Bluebird's' engine and driven around the block, so she was all ready to go. During the trip over I stopped to buy two bunches of flowers. I made a point of driving past what I still thought of as 'Mum's house' and was pleased to see the garden looking neat and tidy, and no obvious signs of disrepair on the house. I believe that if the exterior of a house looks good, then there's no reason to worry about the interior.

My next stop was the cemetery where I took one of the bunches of flowers to Mum and Dad's grave. I was pleased to see that there were fresh flowers already there, so Emma must have paid a visit recently. Since there was no-one around, I had a brief chat with them. I know this sounds silly but it was my way of dealing with their loss.

“Hi Mum and Dad, I'm back again. Thanks for looking after me while I was away, especially when I took that dive off the steps at Tanglewood. I promise to be more careful in future.”

I chatted for a bit longer and then glancing at my watch realised that Emma would be expecting me for lunch, so I left, promising to call by again soon.

It was wonderful to see Emma again even though it had only been two months since I saw her last. I offered my second bunch of flowers and then we hugged for several minutes before stopping to look at each other and it was then that it dawned on me.

“Emma! You're expecting!”

Emma blushed (maybe it runs in the family). “Yes, I am. It wasn't exactly planned, but we're still very pleased.”

I laughed. “You should have warned me and I would have brought back some baby clothes from the U.S.”

“As it happens, I still have some. I was just on the point of giving them to a charity shop, but you know the saying 'charity begins at home'?” Emma replied, and we both laughed.

Emma then led me into the kitchen where the table was laid out for lunch, but before that, I had some presents to hand out to everyone. Stella, in particular, seemed to have visibly grown since I last saw her and I was so pleased that the pretty dress I had bought for her was big enough as I'd had to guess her size.

Once all the children were settled into their chairs we began to eat, although Emma had frequent interruptions to attend to the children. In the end, we settled for small talk and waited until everyone had eaten and the children busy playing before we finally sat down with a cup of coffee and Emma said: “Well, tell me all about your trip.”

There was a lot to tell of course and an hour went by before I paused for breath and we had another cup of coffee.

“So you took a dive off the stairs from Juliet's balcony, that must have been scary,” said Emma.

“It certainly was. The first thing that I thought of when I came to and learned that I had knocked my head was that it might have affected my memory, but fortunately it didn't,” I replied.

Now it was my turn. “So tell me about the new baby. You were saying it was a happy accident. Maybe David should have a vasectomy?” I said with a smile.

Emma suddenly looked serious. “As a matter of fact, he did have a vasectomy about a year ago. We did all the right things, taking precautions until he had a negative sample. Then a few months back I missed my period. I wasn't too worried, but then it happened a second time and I began to feel sick in the mornings. A baby was the last thing on my mind after David's vasectomy, but I went to the doctor and after examining me she said she was almost sure I was pregnant. That was a big shock I can tell you.”

“So what happened then?” I asked.

“She did a pregnancy test in the surgery and it was positive. I just burst into tears wondering how this could possibly have happened. The doctor was very nice. She said she was sorry but she had to ask, was there any possibility that someone other than David was involved? I was shocked but swore that was definitely not the case. It was then that she said there was one other possibility. Sometimes a vasectomy spontaneously reverses over time when the two ends of the tube that carries the sperm reconnect. She suggested David have another test.

“That evening when David came home, he sensed immediately that something was wrong. When he asked me, I burst into tears and told him I was pregnant. I was so afraid that he would think that I had cheated on him, but when I told him about the possibility that he had become fertile again, he immediately said that must have happened, and he had no hesitation in agreeing to take another test.”

“And what happened?” I asked.

“Well the day he took the test was a very long one for both of us. David would be getting the result of course, since it was his specimen. He had to go to the theatre to conduct a rehearsal, which at least kept his mind occupied, while I had to sit and wait. I thought he would ring me, but instead, he came home. My heart raced when I saw him come through the door, but he immediately said: “Darling it's alright; well it isn't really, but my test was positive! The doctor said I had a count of twenty thousand sperm per millilitre with ten percent live sperm which sounded a lot to me but she said a normal count is at least fifteen million, often more like one hundred million, with at least half of them live. Becoming fertile again only happens in about one in four thousand vasectomies but it's happened to us. I'll have to have the procedure repeated.”

“So the chances of you becoming pregnant again were really very low,” I said.

“Extremely low, but then as the doctor said, it only takes one sperm to make you pregnant.”

We continued to chat for a while and then Emma remembered something.

“I was shopping in Bridchester with the young children a week ago when I happened to see June Whitlow. Do you remember you stepped in to play the Fairy Godmother when she was ill? Well her son Phillip was with her. Naturally, they stopped for a brief chat. Phillip seemed very interested in Stella, more so than the other children. I couldn't help thinking that they look a bit similar.”

I confess my heart jumped, but I said nothing. Emma didn't know about Reggie's vasectomy. We had sworn a pact that we would tell nobody else about it – no exceptions.

“Oh well, a lot of children look like someone who isn't their parent,” I said, attempting to laugh it off. “There have been some famous examples.”

The way Emma looked at me, I wasn't sure that she was convinced. Anyway, nothing more was said about it.

I had a lot to think about as I drove home. What if the same thing had happened to Reggie? Was there a possibility that Stella really was his child? I had always made a conscious effort not to think of Reggie in bed with Sophie. I knew that he had married her for my sake, but I didn't have to think of what that entailed. Then again, was it possible that Phillip was her biological father?

That evening, I told Reggie all that had happened that day.

“So you're saying there's a faint possibility that I really am Stella's biological father?”

“A very faint one,” I replied. “But the only way to tell for sure would be a repeat sperm test and then a DNA test on you both. Do you think it's really worth it? She's your daughter regardless.”

“I see what you mean,” replied Reggie. “The only reason for knowing would be if she needed an organ transplant or something like that.”

We discussed it a bit further and decided that the best option was to 'let sleeping dogs lie'.

The following day, with Reggie at university again, I spent my last day in York for a week or so, shopping for some food and then cooking and freezing some meals for him while I was away. I really enjoyed cooking and being a housewife once in a while. For me, it was a novelty, but I'm sure that some readers who have no other option than to be a housewife would be saying 'half her luck'.

Now that I was back in England, I rang Dame Emily. She wasn't home, which was hardly surprising when she was so much in demand, so I left her a message to say that I had called. Then I phoned the one person who would know where she was, Richard Green who just happened to be my agent as well as hers. In fact she had kindly referred me to him when she realised I didn't have an agent. He had taken me on as a favour to her, but I think he was now glad that he did since my career was really taking off.

“Harriet! How good to hear from you,” he said when he picked up the phone. “I was just about to call you. I've just heard from Hiram Thompson's secretary. It seems they were so pleased with your time there that he's paid you a bonus. Are you sitting down?” I wasn't, so I did as he asked and was glad I did. Hiram had paid me very well for my residency, but the generosity of his bonus took my breath away. Billionaires are just not like other people!

“Are you alright?” said Richard after the silence at my end had lasted about ten seconds.

“Err, yes. I'm just a bit shocked but in a nice way. He must have been really pleased with my contribution to the theatre there. I was actually ringing you to ask if you knew where Dame Emily is at present? She asked me to ring her when I returned to England.”

“She's shooting a film in Spain at present. She should be back next week,” he replied. “I know you are playing 'Juliet' again in a few months. That was a shame about Tanglewood.”

“Yes, I call it my 'Tanglefoot' moment,” I replied, and he laughed. “I'm going to Stratford tomorrow. They're about to mount a production of 'The Scottish Play' and I've got my eye on 'Lady M'.”

“You're doing my work for me,” said Richard. “I'll feel guilty about taking your money. Will they make you audition?”

“That depends entirely on the director, and I'm hoping to find out who it is when I go there tomorrow.”

I cooked a really nice roast dinner for when Reggie came home from the university, and after we enjoyed it, we had an early night as we often did when I was going away for a while. It may seem a strange lifestyle, but it worked for us.

The next morning, after kissing Reggie goodbye, I loaded my suitcase into 'Bluebird' and headed south the Stratford. I stopped off first at the flat I shared with Dale and Frank. I had been in touch with them while I was away, and they knew I was due back that day. To my surprise, Frank was there in the flat.

“Frank, darling, it's lovely to see you,” I said as I gave him a hug. “Not at work today, are you alright?”

“I should be asking you the same question, Harriet. I was so worried when I heard about your fall. Are you fully recovered?”

"I'm fine, really,” I replied. “So how you been?”

“Wonderful!” he replied. “Dale has asked me to marry him as soon as we can. In the meantime, we are going to have a Commitment Ceremony. It will be just like a wedding.”

“That's great news!” I exclaimed, giving him another hug. ”What took him so long?”

“Oh, you know what some men are like,” said Frank, laughing. “When it happens, we'd like you to be 'Best Woman'.”

“Oh Frank, that is so sweet,” I replied, tears starting in my eyes.

“Don't start crying now or you'll set me off. How about we have a cup of tea?”

I was very pleased for them of course, but couldn't help wondering if this meant that they would finally want to find their own place. Well, I'd leave that until it happened. I had hoped that our particular form of 'ménage à trois', as we laughingly called it, would go on indefinitely but all good things come to an end.

As it turned out, it was another ten years before the same-sex marriage bill passed the British parliament, and the first weddings took place in 2015. However, there was a Civil Partnership Act passed in 2004 and enacted a year later, and this was very similar to a civil wedding in the rights and responsibilities gained by the partners.

We sat down and had a 'cuppa'. Frank had baked scones, so we had a 'Devonshire tea' which was very nice. He was an excellent cook. It turned out that he had a rostered day off and had decided to spend it in the flat, cooking and also making sure that it was 'spick and span' for my return. In that, he succeeded; I certainly couldn't fault it. You could almost say it was the defining test of whether a guy was gay or not, just how clean and tidy his home was, and Frank always passed with flying colours!

After tea and a brief chat about my trip to America, with the promise of more and a picture show to come later, I changed my dress and headed down to the theatre and my appointment with Duncan Morgan. Penny Lane, his secretary smiled as she saw me walk in.

“He's currently in a meeting with Sir Stuart Patrick, but he shouldn't be long.”

I sat down and flipped through a magazine while I waited. In a few minutes, the door to Duncan's office opened and the famous actor emerged. I wondered if he would be starring in a future production. He gave me a polite smile and nod even though I'm sure he didn't know who I was, said 'good morning' to Penny and left the office. Duncan beckoned me into his office.

After we both sat down, he said: “Welcome back, Harriet. I don't have to ask how America was; I've had a most glowing report from Hiram Thompson. He's even said he'd love you to return there in a few years.”

“He's very kind,” I replied. “I had a great time and learned so much, I just hope I gave back as much as I received.”

Duncan smiled. “Modest as usual, Harriet.” I blushed as no doubt he expected.

“The only downside was my attempt to fly at Tanglewood,” I said, and he laughed. “Before I left, Mr Thompson invited young Miriam and Itzak Rabinovich, together with their parents to accompany him and Mrs Thompson to England to see me and Richard Jenkins perform in 'Romeo and Juliet' later in the year. In the circumstances, I'd like to get them really good seats and of course I will pay for them myself.”

I think Duncan felt a bit bad about his previous remark because he said. “That really won't be necessary, Harriet. It will be my pleasure to arrange the seats for them. I understand those two young people who performed at your recital are stars in the making.”

“I believe so,” I replied. “It was a privilege to have them to join me on stage. I can see the day coming when they will be too busy with their own careers.”

Duncan changed the subject. “As you know, while you were away we've mounted a production of 'Othello', and we have a new young actress, Edith Evans, playing the rôle of Desdemona.”

“That's a famous name, her parents must have had a premonition that she'd end up on stage,” I said.

“I believe she's very good, but I'd like your professional opinion,” said Duncan. That surprised me. After all, she had presumably been selected at an audition and passed the selection committee which included the company's artistic director and the play's director as well. What on earth could I add? Still, the old saying is “When the boss says 'Jump', the response is 'How high, sir?'”, so I said, “Would you like me to attend a performance, sir?”

“Yes, and report back to me, please. When can you go?”

“Tonight?”

“Excellent. Speak to Penny; she'll arrange a seat for you.”

It was apparent that the interview was over, so I stood up.

“Thank you Mr Duncan. It's good to be back.” I smiled and left the room.

Penny produced a ticket when I walked to her desk. I hate to be predictable, but it seems I was. Anyway, the ticket was halfway back in the stalls and the middle of the row, just where I like it.

“Penny, I'm auditioning for 'The Scottish Play'. Can you tell me when they are being held and the director please?”

Penny smiled at my superstitious reference to the Shakespeare play. “Yes, they are on next week and the director is Ioan Thomas. You'll be getting a call to tell you when to turn up.”

'Ioan Thomas eh?” I thought. 'That's novel, a Welshman directing a play by an Englisman and set in Scotland.' I only knew his name and reputation but had never met him. I had already read and memorised the part but decided to review it.

I drove back to the flat. I was looking forward to eating the tea that Frank was cooking, but I also had to be back at the theatre for the performance of 'Othello'. I decided to 'dress down'. Some people in Stratford knew me, and I didn't want to look like 'an actress trying hard not to be noticed, while really trying to be noticed'. After all, I had a job to do that evening.

Of course, a few people did notice me. I can always tell from that 'double take', but fortunately in Britain no-one asks for a 'selfie' or autograph. I slipped into my seat just a few minutes before the curtain went up, and settled down to enjoy the play. When I say 'enjoy', of course I was analysing it at the same time, particularly Edith Evans' performance as 'Desdemona'.

She was good, I mean very good. I really couldn't criticise her performance. Of course, there were places where I might have performed it differently, but every actor has their own interpretation of a rôle, and that's not to say that one is right and one is wrong. This was interesting; she was obviously going to be a rival in seeking rôles. I wondered if that was why Duncan Morgan had asked me to see her perform.

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.

Chapter 26   A significant purchase.

I realise now that I failed to mention that when I first returned to the flat the previous evening, ready to eat the tea that Frank had cooked, I was greeted by the most delicious aromas coming from the kitchen. Dale was home from work by now and of course, I congratulated him on the news of his impending marriage to Frank. We called it a 'marriage' even though we knew that officially it was a 'commitment ceremony', but as far as Dale and Frank were concerned, they were getting married.

During the discussion of the ceremony over tea of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, peas and carrots, with home-made apple strudel and custard to follow, it seemed that they had already worked out quite a lot of the details. The first thing I had to ask was whether it was to be a 'black tie' event? They assured me that it was, and that meant I could start thinking about what sort of a new dress I should buy. A floor-length gown sounded most suitable.

Dale laughed: “What to wear is always the first thing on a woman's mind.”

“Well, I wouldn't want to let you down by turning up in jeans and a tee-shirt,” I retorted. “After all, if I am to be the 'Best Woman', I want to look my best in the photos.”

I asked about the venue. As it was to be a ceremony conducted by a celebrant, they had decided that it would take place at the same venue as the reception.

“We're going to spend a few weekends checking out what is on offer, and the cost,” said Frank. “I don't think there'll be any problems about it being a 'same-sex commitment', but if they appear at all reluctant, then we'll just cross them off the list. There's plenty of choice.”

I wondered how many guests would be coming. I knew that Dale's parents had come around to the idea of him being gay, but I wasn't sure about Frank's parents and it didn't seem appropriate to ask. I would let him tell me.

The following morning I was back at the theatre to make my report to Duncan Morgan. I told him that in my opinion Edith Evans was very good and would be a real asset to the Company.

“It's very good of you to say so, Harriet,” he replied. “I'm sure there is room for two young female stars in our programme.”

'I hope so,' I thought to myself.

I had some shopping to do and also I wanted to review my selected speeches for the Lady M audition. I didn't know if Edith was also going to audition for the part. It might be a case of 'Let the best actress win'. I wondered if there was some way that I could meet Edith, and then it happened. As I was leaving the theatre building I saw a young woman walking towards me.

“Edith Evans?” I said. She looked at me quizzically, probably trying to remember where she had seen me.

“I'm Harriet Stow,” I said.

“Of course, Harriet. I'm so pleased to meet you,” she said, offering me her hand.

I made a quick decision: “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?” I asked.

She glanced at her watch: “Yes, the rehearsal doesn't start for forty minutes. I'm always chronically early.”

“Better that than chronically late,” I responded with a laugh as we headed to the theatre café.

“I've been wanting to meet you,” she said. “I've heard a lot about you, but I was told you were in America as a 'resident artist'.”

“Yes, I returned a few days ago. It was a great learning experience. I saw you perform 'Desdemona' last night; I was very impressed.”

Edith blushed: “It's very kind of you to say so.”

“When you get to know me better, you'll know that I don't throw praise around unless it's warranted. I hope you are going to stay at Stratford?” I enquired.

“I hope so,” she replied. “It's very kind of you. I was afraid you'd see me as a rival and hate me on sight.”

“Not at all. The only effect on me is to make me lift my game. I know we're likely to be rivals for rôles, but apart from that, I hope we can be friends.”

You may think this was a subtle form of gamesmanship, designed to put Edith off her guard, but I meant every word I said. I had always thought that the Company was more important than the actors in it, and if she proved to be the better person for some parts, then so be it. Of course, there were also some plays where we might have the chance to be on stage together.

Edith glanced at her watch and I didn't want to keep her.

“Just out of interest, are you auditioning for 'The Scottish Play'?” I asked.

“'The Scot...'?” she paused, looking puzzled. “Oh, of course, yes I am.”

“You'll have to forgive me, I'm one of those superstitious actors,” I smiled.

She smiled back: “It's good to keep the traditions alive. Is there a time when we can use the actual name?”

“Oh yes, if we're involved in the production. It would be a bit time-consuming to keep saying 'The Scottish Play',” I said.

With that we said 'goodbye' for the present. Edith walked to the stage and I left the theatre to go and do my shopping, and also check out a few boutiques for a possible gown for the boys' wedding. Well you can never start too soon.

Time got away from me and by the time I returned to the flat, Dale was already there.

“There's a letter for you,” he said, handing me an envelope with a solicitor's name on the front top corner. It wasn't the solicitor I used and I wondered what it was all about. Dale was itching to know, but I took the envelope very casually as though I knew what it was all about and walked into my bedroom before opening it.

After returning from America and receiving the unexpected bonus from Hiram Thompson, Reggie and I had discussed what I should do with the money. I had been in the business long enough now to know that acting can be a precarious occupation. It's possible to earn a lot of money very quickly and then have a 'dry' spell where no money is coming in at all. I had been lucky so far, but I was keen to invest my money somewhere secure, 'just in case'. After all, it only takes a downturn in the economy and people's discretionary spending falls. One of the first things they are likely to stop buying are theatre tickets.

“You could buy some shares, or maybe another property,” said Reggie.

I have always been dubious about the share market which I view as gambling akin to visiting a casino. Such illogical things happen, such as a company posting a good profit and the shares falling because someone thought their profit should have been higher. Of course the reverse can happen too; the company makes a loss but the shares go up because it wasn't as bad as expected.

“You have to choose your shares carefully,” said Reggie. “That's why you employ a broker to act for you.”

“But don't they get it wrong sometimes?” I asked.

“That's true, but the odds are more in your favour if you employ an expert,” he said.

'Odds'? That sounded very much like gambling to me but I said nothing. I still preferred the thought of 'bricks and mortar'.

Now, as I opened the solicitor's letter our conversation came back to me. Unfortunately, I seem to have mislaid the original. Solicitors like to use a quasi-legal form of writing, presumably to justify their high fees. As far as I can remember, the content was something like the following:

Dear Ms Stow,

We are acting on behalf of Miss Harriet Hosking, the proprietor of the apartment at (here it gave the address) which you are currently leasing.

To be honest, I had never heard of Miss Hosking before, since I dealt with an estate agent.

The letter went on:

Miss Hosking wishes to realise some of her assets, including the apartment, and as you are a long-term tenant, she has authorised me to give you first refusal of the property. She is aware of your occupation and has had much pleasure in seeing you perform in Imperial Shakespeare Company productions. She therefore wishes to offer you the property for (here the letter gave the asking price) which is £10,000 less than the sum for which it will be offered on the open market. Please reply within seven working days if you wish to proceed with purchase of the apartment.

Yours faithfully,

Charles Bennet,
Darcy, Bennet and Bingley,
Solicitors

I rang Reggie that evening and told him the contents of the letter.

“That sounds like the answer to your problem of what to do with your money. However, I hope you realise that by offering you a 'discount', Miss Hosking has made it difficult for you to offer less than her asking price. I suggest your first move is to contact a couple of estate agents and ask them to do a valuation on the flat. You'll probably have to pay for it but it shouldn't cost more than a hundred pounds. Can you do that tomorrow and tell me how you get on please?”

“Thanks for your advice Reggie. Of course I shall, darling, but I do wish you would remember it’s our money."

I explained what had happened to Dale and Frank.

“What will you do?” asked Frank. He looked a bit worried. I assured him and Dale that they were most unlikely to find themselves on the street, and told them about my conversation with Reggie.

The next day I telephoned two agents. One said the charge for a valuation of a flat was eighty pounds; the other said there would be no charge but they hoped I would bear them in mind if I wished to buy or sell property in the future. I arranged for them both to come to the flat the following day. Their valuations came in within ten thousand pounds of each other and interestingly were both slightly higher that Miss Hosking's asking price. When I reported this to Reggie, he said that I had my answer, and to go ahead and accept the offer.

Dale and Frank were very happy to find out that they would be living with their landlady. They were already paying me their portion of the rent each month and then I forwarded the full amount to the estate agent who was managing the property. We agreed that their payment would remain the same, only this time the money would be going directly to me. Of course, as the owner I would now be responsible for costs such as the Council Tax and any maintenance work which needed doing.

There was the usual paperwork to be completed, so it was a good thing that I was in Stratford. I used my usual solicitor to handle my side of the purchase. He was quite surprised when I told him that I would not require a bank loan to purchase the property. I hoped he didn't think I was a millionaire. It was only thanks to Hiram Thompson's generosity that I was able to do this, but I didn't tell him that of course.

I had a few days before the auditions, so I drove back to York to spend them with Reggie. The following day while he was at the university, I was busy doing my 'housewife' thing and singing away to the radio when Reggie arrived home early as one of the lecturers was sick.

The trouble with Reggie is that once he gets an idea in his head, it's very difficult to shift it. The subject of me singing professionally was raised again as it had been on several occasions, and so, more to stop the 'broken record' than anything else, I promised to seek out a reputable singing teacher back in Stratford who would check out my voice and in my opinion, surely tell me that I would be laughed off the stage if I ever sought payment for seeking rôles as a professional singer. If I came away with a written assessment to this effect, surely this would stop Reggie in his tracks and let me get back to doing what I did best, namely straight acting in serious plays, with just the odd song thrown in.

Since Shakespeare's plays have more than a hundred songs, I was always going to be singing occasionally, and I supposed that singing exercises would do no harm to my performing voice. My single song performed in America had gone down reasonably well, so perhaps I was already as good as I needed to be.

As soon as I returned to Stratford in time for the audition, I leafed through the Yellow Pages in a search of a singing teacher. I was surprised how many of them were in the Stratford area, and the problem was how to pick a good one. One name that caught my eye was a Madame Yelena Mussorgsky. I wondered if she could possibly be related in any way to the famous Russian composer. Her advertisement said 'Forty years experience. Children and seniors a speciality.' Well I wasn't either of those, but I thought I would give her a try. After all, if we didn't get on, there were plenty more teachers to chose from.

I phoned the number given and heard a message in a distinctly Russian accent informing me that she was sorry not to take my call, please leave a number and she would call back as soon as possible. This I did, and less than thirty minutes later my phone rang.

“Hello? This is Madame Mussorgsky; you left me a message?”

“Yes, Madame Mussorgsky. My name is Harriet Stow and I'm a performer with the Imperial Shakespeare Company here in Stratford,” I paused, expecting some sort of response but, there being none, I continued. “Shakespeare's plays have a number of songs and I feel that I am not doing them justice. I would like to enquire about some singing tuition to improve my performances.”

“I see,” she responded. “Well I'm sure I can help you. Are you busy at present?”

“I have to attend an audition tomorrow morning, but I'm free for the rest of today if that's not too short notice, or else tomorrow afternoon. Does that suit you at all?”

“It so happens I have a cancellation this afternoon at three o'clock. My first appointment is always for ninety minutes and I charge thirty pounds. Follow-up lessons are twenty pounds per hour,” she replied.

“This afternoon would suit me very well,” I replied.

“Good. Please be sure to wear loose clothing so that your chest can expand,” she replied.

After giving me her address, she hung up. I wondered about the 'cancellation'. Was it genuine or was she trying to make out that her appointment diary was usually very full? No matter, she was on trial as much as I was. If we didn't connect, then I would try someone else.

I followed her advice regarding clothing, wearing a loose summer dress as the weather was quite warm. Of course, as an actress, used to filling a theatre, unaided by a microphone, I did know something about breathing, but I suppose she had to give instructions to total beginners.

I arrived at her address which turned out to be a two-storey solid brick dwelling with a large bay window on the right-hand side of the front door. I was fifteen minutes early, so waited for five before approaching the front door. On it was a notice saying 'Madame Y Mussorgsky, CME.' Underneath in smaller type was: 'Teacher of Singing and Pianoforte' and on the third line: 'Please ring the bell, enter and take a seat in the room on your left.'

I pushed open the door and found myself in a central corridor which seemed to run the length of the house. Behind the closed door to my right, I could hear a piano playing and a voice singing, not terribly well in my opinion. I walked into the room on the left which had some comfortable chairs and couches, and picked up one of the small selection of magazines.

I am usually a confident person but it was at this point that I began to wonder what I was doing there. Did I really need singing lessons for the little I did, and should I reveal to Madame Mussorgsky my other reason for having my voice checked out, namely the possibility of expanding my repertoire by taking part in musicals or light opera. Would she laugh when she heard my ambitions and tell me to stick to my 'day job'?

The singing in the other room ceased and a few minutes later I heard the front door open and footsteps as the previous pupil left. Suddenly, Madame Mussorgsky appeared in the doorway.

“Good afternoon, Miss Stow,” she said.

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.

Chapter 27   Madame Mussorgsky and an audition.

Madame Mussorgsky was very much as I had imagined her. She appeared to be in her sixties, a little below average height and a little greater than average in girth and she was dressed from head to toe in black. A silk blouse was teamed with a velvet skirt, stockings and 'sensible shoes'. Only a dark blue and white cameo brooch, attached to the blouse and presumably representing her late husband, relieved what used to be called 'widow's weeds'.

“Please come this way,” she said, leading me into the room across the corridor from where I had been waiting. It was a large airy room with an upright piano and a couple of music stands.

“Now, Miss Stow, you said you perform with the Imperial Shakespeare Company. I thought your name sounded slightly familiar and checking my collection of programmes I realised that I had seen you perform as 'Ophelia' in a production of 'Hamlet' some time ago. In that performance, you were required to sing, but it was only a very small part of the rôle. Is there anything else you would like to do involving singing?”

I decided to be straight with her and proceeded to explain Reggie's insistence that with my voice I could be taking part in musical theatre or light opera.

“Of course his opinion is totally unbiased,” I said with a smile. “I finally decided that the best thing I could do was approach an expert who would give me a real unbiased assessment, and so, here I am.”

Madame Mussorgsky smiled. “Well, perhaps I am more of an expert than your husband who naturally believes the best of you. I should explain my background, and you can decide for yourself whether I meet the criteria of 'expert'. I was born in Moscow and took singing lessons myself as a young girl. My first professional appointment was as part of the chorus at the Bolshoi Theatre. From there I graduated to small rôles in operas, and finally as understudy to some of the most famous names in Russian opera, but I doubt if you would have heard of any of them.”

I was intrigued. “Did you manage to do any performances?” I asked.

“Alas, the women were very robust in those days and rarely were too sick to perform. However, I did perform as 'Kseniya' in four performances of 'Boris Gudonov', which you may know was composed by Modest Mussorgsky, a distant relative of mine.” She said this with some pride. “Even then, the singer I replaced, who had a bad throat infection and had almost lost her voice, still wanted to perform and had to be almost physically restrained by the management.” She smiled at the memory.

“That would have been an amazing experience, performing in front of so many people in one of the world's greatest opera houses,” I said.

There was a faraway look in her eyes as though she was reliving the pinnacle of her career all those years ago. “Indeed it was,” she said. “But you would know all about that.”

It occurred to me that since she was almost certainly widowed, she had returned to her maiden name after her husband died, but I thought it might not be polite to enquire about that.

“Enough of reminiscing,” she said. “We have work to do. I would like to start with an assessment of your lung function and also your vocal range if you have no objection?”

“None at all,” I replied.

“Good, I would like to take a measurement with this machine called a spirometer;” she said, leading me across the room to a machine sitting on a small table. “It measures your lung capacity and also the speed with which you can exhale air. I will put a clip on your nose so that all the air is expelled through your mouth.

She went on to explain how I should take as deep a breath as possible, and then putting my lips to the mouthpiece, exhale as hard and as long as possible. After I did this, she showed me a graph which the machine had drawn on paper. This meant nothing to me of course, but Madame Mussorgsky said that for my age and sex, these were excellent results.

“Not that I expected anything else from a professional actress who is used to projecting her voice to the most distant seats in the theatre,” she said.

Then she sat at the piano and said that she would now like to check on my vocal range. This she did by getting me to sing 'Ah' along with her playing a series of scales, at the end of which she said: “Excellent. Well, you, my dear, are a mezzo-soprano, but you are able to go some way into the contralto range and with teaching and exercises, you will find that you can extend your range to three octaves.There are plenty of good parts in musicals that you could perform. What is your favourite musical?”

“It would have to be 'South Pacific',” I replied. “I often sing along with my CD, and I've watched the movie countless times.”

“I think you could sing 'Bali Ha'i' quite well, if fact, why don't we try it now?” she said.

I was surprised as I thought I'd start by singing scales, but she was the teacher so I agreed to her request. She apparently didn't need the music as she gave me the note to start on for the introduction: “Most people live on a lonely island...” and then carried on the accompaniment.

Just as I so often do when acting a part, I quickly lost myself in the song and its emotional story. I had half expected Madame Mussorgsky to stop me half-way through, but instead, she let me go right to the end where the final 'Bali Ha'i' trails off into silence. It took me a few seconds to return from the South Pacific to a room in Stratford and realise that she was watching me. Then she smiled.

“Not bad for an untrained singer, not bad at all. I'll let you into a secret; I've heard countless people sing that song and only three times have I let them go through to the end, the first time they sang it for me. One of those singers now stars on the London and Broadway stages.” Here she mentioned a very well known singer. “The other? Well, despite my urging, she preferred to stay as a housewife and amateur singer where she has been much in demand by regional non-professional companies. Now, there's you. I'm sorry to tell you Miss Stow, but you were wrong and your husband is right; you have the potential to be a really good professional singer. You need some tuition of course and plenty of practice, but it would not surprise me to see you on the stage in London's West End or even Broadway if you work hard enough.”

To be honest, I was rather shocked. Even though I enjoyed singing, I was fully prepared for her to tell me that I might make a good amateur singer but not a professional one. I tried to make light of it.

“So I might make a Juanita Hall one day,” I said, referring to the actress who played 'Bloody Mary' in the film of 'South Pacific'.

“I'll let you into a secret. Although Juanita Hall played the part on Broadway for many years, at the time the film was made her voice had deepened, and the singing voice of African-American Muriel Smith was used instead, although she wasn't credited.”

I was not totally surprised: “I've heard of that happening quite a bit, for example, Marni Nixon who sang for Deborah Kerr in 'The King and I', for Audrey Hepburn in 'My Fair Lady' and in many other films, but I never heard of Muriel Smith before,” I said.

“Well you have indeed heard her, on your CD of 'South Pacific',” laughed Madame Mussorgsky.

It had been a most enjoyable afternoon, and I was determined to have further lessons with Madame Mussorgsky. To finish off, she instructed me on practising some scales and told me to continue singing along with the radio or my CD collection, but to play the music quietly so that I could hear my own voice.

“You mentioned an audition tomorrow. May I ask what character and play it is?” she said.

“It's Lady M in 'The Scottish Play',” I replied.

There was a puzzled look on her face. “'Lady M'? 'Scottish Play'? Is that Shakespeare?” she said.

I laughed. “It's an old theatrical superstition not to mention the real name of the play unless you're in a production because it's supposed to bring bad luck,” I said. She still looked puzzled, so I broke my own rule and said: “It's 'Macbeth'.”

She smiled. “I see. Well, I hope I have taught you something today and you have taught me something too.”

Before I left, I told Madame Mussorgsky that depending on the outcome of the audition I would know what free time I had and that I would ring her to arrange another lesson soon.

A keen wind had risen since I entered the house, and as I left it whipped up my skirts and I shivered. It felt like an omen, but I told myself not to be so silly.

The following day I arrived early at the theatre for the audition. I had heard that besides myself and Edith, there were three other actresses who had made the shortlist for the part of Lady M. I would have backed myself to win the part if Edith was not also auditioning, but now I thought it was a case of 'touch and go'.

Soon we were all assembled in the auditorium and were in turn introduced to the director, Ioan Thomas. He greeted us in that lovely musical tone of a Welshman. He was part of the selection panel for the cast, along with the Artistic Director Gwynneth Soames, and her new assistant Harry Evans.

'Good heavens, all these Welsh names,' I thought. I was tempted to greet them with 'Bore da' but thought the joke might fall flat.

We drew numbers out of a hat to determine the order of the auditions so that there was no suggestion of favouritism. I was first and Edith was last. I didn't know if being first gave me an advantage or not, but I drew a deep breath and walked up the steps to the stage.

We had been asked to prepare the speech:

'The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood.
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature’s mischief. Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark
To cry “Hold, hold!”'

This is a very dramatic speech and I thought we had been asked to perform it to see how quickly we could get into the character of Lady M. It contains that notorious phrase 'unsex me here' which has caused countless generations of schoolchildren to giggle and it was important to give it no more and no less emphasis than the rest of the soliloquy.

When I finished, I looked at the panel trying to gauge their reaction from their expressions, but they were doing a good job of keeping 'poker faces'.

“Thank you Harriet,” said Ioan. “May we have your own two selections please?”

“Yes, Mr Thomas. My first is Portia's 'The quality of mercy is not strained' and then Queen Gertrude's speech on the death of Ophelia - 'There is a willow grows aslant a brook'.”

These were two of my favourite speeches and contrast nicely with the drama of the first speech. To my surprise, when I had finished, the four other women applauded me. I bowed to them and the selection panel and left the stage, making my way back to the others in the stalls. The second young woman stood up and walked down to the stage, and Edith leaned over and murmured, “She just whispered to her friend 'We might as well go home'.”

I don't wish to sound boastful, but I felt that the other young women were no threat to me, all except Edith that is. Those of us left dutifully clapped each person of course, but I was waiting to hear my real rival for the part.

Edith was last to audition and was quite frankly excellent. When we had all finished, Ioan stood up to face us and thanked us all for attending the audition. He concluded with the traditional “We'll let you know.”

Edith had to prepare for the afternoon's performance of Othello. I asked the other young women if they would like to have a cup of coffee and they agreed so I led them to the café. They seemed a bit in awe of me, I'm not sure why.

“Realistically it's between you and Edith,” said one of the auditioners, I think her name was Jenny.

“I've learned never to second-guess an auditioning panel,” I replied while thinking to myself that she was probably right. “There are some other parts in the play. Would you take one if it was offered?”

“Oh yes!” they all replied. “Just being able to say we performed at Stratford is a great thing to put on a CV,” said one of them, and she was right of course.

I thought it was ironic that for Edith and I it was all or nothing. They certainly wouldn't offer us a minor part and perhaps we would have been insulted if they had. I went back to the flat to await the verdict and busied myself by catching up on some housework, but I found myself staring at the phone all the time, willing it to ring. I really needed to know, one way or the other. Finally, it rang and I picked it up to answer.

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.

Chapter 28   Harriet to the rescue – again!

“Miss Stow? Harriet?” that musical accent left me in no doubt that it was Ioan Thomas on the other end of the call.

“Yes, Mr Thomas,” I replied.

“Harriet, I'm sorry to keep you waiting so long but it was a very difficult choice that we had to make. Both you and Edith were excellent and I'm sure either of you would perform the rôle brilliantly. Unfortunately we could only choose one person, and in the end we offered the part to Edith and she has accepted.”

I smiled as I replied. It's said that smiling affects the tone of voice, so sometimes it's a good thing to do it even when you really don't want to.

“Thank you for ringing personally to tell me Mr Thomas. When I saw Edith's audition I knew that there was a good chance she would get the part. I will ring her up and congratulate her.”

“That's very decent of you,” he replied. “I do hope that we get the opportunity to work together in the future.”

“I hope so too,” I replied, and that was the end of the conversation. After I put the phone down I sat and stared at it for a few minutes. Then I picked it up again and dialled Edith's number.

“Hello Harriet,” she said as she answered my call. She sounded a bit nervous – did she think I was going to scream at her?

“Hi Edith, I'm just ringing to congratulate you on getting the part,” I said.

“That is so kind of you,” she replied. “I know how much you wanted the part; I even asked Ioan if there was some way we could share it, but he said no, he could only handle one person playing the rôle.”

“It's fine, really,” I replied. “In this business we are always applying for jobs and some we get and some we don't. I may 'pip you at the post' sometime in the future, but meanwhile I know that you will make a really good 'Scottish Lady', and I look forward to seeing you perform it.”

By the end of our conversation, we were confirmed friends and Edith sounded much more relaxed. It was true what I said, our fate is really in the hands of the selection panel and sometimes they make a decision which we don't like, but most times they do.

Then I phoned Reggie, who was very understanding and supportive as he always was.

“I'm sure you'll find something else to do before 'Romeo and Juliet',” he said.

I later found out that the three other young women who auditioned all obtained parts in the production; one was given 'Lady MacDuff', another a 'gentlewoman attendant' on 'Lady M', and the third became Edith's understudy, so it was just as well that they didn't pack up and go home.

Now I had to face the thought of having about three months with nothing to do until the 'Romeo and Julet' production started rehearsing. The logical thing was to ring my agent Richard and see if he had anything to offer me.

“Hi Richard, you may not have heard yet, but I didn't get the 'Scottish Lady', so I'm wondering if there is anything else I might go for to fill in about three months?”

“Oh I'm sorry to hear that Harriet, who did get the part?”

“She's called Edith Evans, and she's a really good young actress from Monmouth, but without any trace of a Welsh accent.”

“She must be good to beat you for a part,” said Richard loyally.

“I gave her a good run for her money, but ultimately it's the director and his panel who make the decision,” I replied.

“Well I haven't got anything on the books at present but now that I know you're available, I'll see what I can do.”

I knew that if anyone could find me something, Richard could.

I decided to stay a couple more days in Stratford to catch up on things and also have another singing lesson before heading back to York. Because I phoned Reggie every day that I was away, he knew what I was doing.

It was just before I was leaving the flat the following day to go to Madame Mussorgsky's that the telephone rang. It was Richard, my agent.

“You won't believe this Harriet, but I've had a phone call from a friend of mine who is also an agent, based in Leeds. It's about the Mercury Theatre there, they have a problem and you might be able to help them out.”

'Not another cast member unavailable at the last minute?' I thought.

“They're about to perform a three week season of 'Hamlet' and their Queen Gertrude fell off her bike and broke her leg.”

I burst out laughing, and Richard was a bit non-plussed: “Are you alright Harriet?” he enquired.

“I'm sorry Richard, that must have sounded very unkind, but I've been asked to step in at the last minute so many times now, and here's another one. Tell me though, don't they have an understudy?”

“That's the problem; they're working on a real shoestring at present, in fact they're in grave danger of having to shut down.” Then he played his trump card. “Somehow, they've got David Lodge playing Hamlet as a special favour and the show is sold out. This couldn't have happened at a worse time for them. They can't possibly cancel the season, it will break them.”

“Alright,” I said. “When does the season start?”

“This coming Saturday. I know you can play the part so I'm asking you as a favour to consider it. I'm afraid the money isn't as great as you're used to now, but David is doing it for a reduced rate to help them out, and I'll cut my commission to five percent if that helps.”

“I'll have to ask Reggie,” I said. “He's expecting me back in York tomorrow.”

“Please tell him it's a 'one-off',” said Richard, but that was the problem, it wasn't a 'one-off' at all, it had happened several times before. It was probably my fault, I had asked Richard if he had any work going. 'Be careful what you wish for' as the old saying goes.

“I'll call you back after I've spoken to him,” I said, and hung up, then I dialled Reggie who was at uni, but fortunately he replied straight away as he was between lectures. I explained the situation to him and listened carefully to the tone of his voice when he replied. I was worried that he might start to wish he'd married someone with a 'normal' job with regular hours.

“I promise this is the last work before Romeo and Juliet,” I said. “After this I'm coming home to York for a break, and anyway Leeds isn't so far away and I can come home for Sundays,” I continued in a rush.

Reggie laughed. “It's alright Harriet. Of course I'm going to miss seeing you but I knew when I married you what I was getting into. Actors just don't work normal hours.”

“Reggie, you're an amazing man and I love you so much,” I replied.

After that I rang Richard back and told him I could do the part. All this took time of course and now I knew I would be late for my lesson with Madame Mussorgsky, so I immediately rang her. Her phone was switched to messages, so I told her I would be about 15 minutes late and then hurried out to the car.

When I arrived, Madame Mussorgsky was waiting for me, so I explained what had happened.

“I'm so sorry that I'm late, I never am normally,” I said. She was very understanding and said that it was alright as the young woman who was going to have a lesson after me had had to cancel because of a family emergency. Hence, I could still have a full hour lesson.

We went through a number of scales and I practised a couple of songs.

“I will be away for a few months now until I return to Stratford for 'Romeo and Juliet',” I said. “We actors have what I call a 'vagrant gypsy life'. It's a quote from the poem 'Sea Fever'.”

Madame Mussorgsky smiled. “I do know where it's from, Harriet,” she said, and I blushed with embarrassment at assuming she would not be familiar with English poetry. She continued: “There's a musical version of it, and with your voice I think you could sing it quite well. I'll obtain the sheet music before you come for your next lesson if you like.”

“Thank you, Madame Mussorgsky, I'd like that very much. Something else I've been thinking about with regard to singing scales. I can't buy a piano since there isn't room for it in the flat, and anyway, I divide my time between different places as you know. I was thinking of buying an electronic keyboard that I could take with me wherever I happen to be staying.”

“Well nothing beats a proper piano of course, but I suppose in your situation, an electronic keyboard would be the best option and better than nothing,” she said.

She concluded the lesson by giving me some 'homework' to do while I was away.

After I returned to the flat I packed some clothes. Richard rang again and asked me to go straight to the theatre the next day, arriving about ten o'clock if I could, and to introduce myself to the director Miles Franklin. When Dale and Frank came home I explained the situation to them.

“I must say that they are very lucky to have you fill in for them,” said Frank. “I'd love to come to Leeds and see you perform again. I was looking forward to seeing you in the 'Scottish Play' as 'Lady M' but it wasn't to be.”

“Never say 'never'. Frank,” I said. “I'm sure I'll get another chance in the future.”

The following morning I was up bright and early for my trip to Leeds, which I knew took about two and a half hours. The trickiest bit was finding the theatre once I arrived there. Not for the first time I wished 'Bluebird' had a GPS, and decided to talk to Dale about that the next time I saw him. Fortunately I found it by nine-thirty, parked 'Bluebird', applied the steering wheel lock and took my case into the theatre. I was sure that Leeds was full of honest people, but it doesn't pay to take chances.

In the foyer I announced myself at the ticket office and asked for Miles Franklin. “In the auditorium,” was the offhand reply which didn't impress me, but I said nothing and walked through the doors marked 'Stalls'. The stage was lit and it was obvious that they were 'bumping in' the scenery because there were flats and ladders everywhere. I was a bit surprised that with only a few days before the season opened the scenery wasn't already installed, but thought that they might have just finished a previous production.

As I walked down the side aisle, pulling my suitcase behind me, a woman who looked to be in her late twenties turned and seeing me, walked towards me.

“G'day, can I help you?” she said in a strong Australian accent.

“Er, yes, I'm Harriet Stow and I'm looking for Miles Franklin,” I said.

“Well you've found her,” she replied. I confess I stared at her. With that name I had assumed that Miles was a man.

She laughed. “I get the same reaction everywhere. Everyone expects a bloke, not a sheila.”

She suddenly changed her voice to one where her accent was barely audible. “Actually, I'm not Crocodile Dundee's sister. 'Miles' is my nickname; my real first name is Sylvia, but I prefer Miles. There was a famous Australian author Miles Franklin. Her real first name was Stella but she used her fourth name so that readers might think she was a man and not be prejudiced against reading a book by a woman. Thank goodness things have changed since those days.”

' So why don't you use 'Sylvia'? I thought to myself but judged it prudent not to say anything.

“Is David Lodge going to be at the rehearsal today?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Do you know him?” asked Miles.

“Oh yes, we've performed together. Have you met him previously?” I asked.

“I saw him on television in Australia, but I've only been over here a few months. He's a real live wire isn't he?”

At that moment, the 'live wire' interrupted our conversation. “Harriet!” called out a familiar voice. David skipped down the steps from the stage, rushed up and kissed me on both cheeks.

“It's so good to see you again,” he said in that sexy Scottish accent which he seemed able to switch on and off at will. “How did they persuade you to come here?”

“Two things; I missed out on the 'Scottish Lady' at Stratford so I was at a loose end, and secondly, they told me you were playing 'Hamlet' so I knew they needed someone to keep you in check!”

He laughed. “Miles, Harriet and I were playing in 'Hamlet' when Dame Emily and her understudy got food poisoning, so this young lady switched from Ophelia to Queen Gertrude, while her understudy took over Ophelia. We were all very impressed.”

I was blushing hard enough to light up the theatre. “I'm sorry, Miss Franklin, David enjoys embarrassing me,” I said. “I think you should make up your own mind how good you think I am.”

“Speaking of which, it's time we started rehearsing, oh, and call me Miles,” she said with a smile. “How about we run through all the scenes in which Gertrude appears? I will block each one out with you Harriet and then we will rehearse it.”

And so we set to work. First, I was introduced to the other members of the cast and then we ran through the scenes. After the first two acts we broke for a working lunch, which I had with Miles and David. We discussed the play and I asked Miles what she thought of the way I was playing the part so far.

“I'm not looking for compliments, just an indication if this is the way you want it played,” I said.

“I've never seen it played better,” she replied. “When I heard that you are performing regularly at Stratford, I expected nothing less. You mentioned that you missed out on a part in 'The Scottish Play', I can only say that their loss is our gain. You've probably heard that this theatre is in financial trouble. We were so lucky that David was prepared to perform here. The season is now a sell-out and that bails us out for a while.”

“Och, it's my pleasure,” said David. “I never want to miss out on a chance to play 'Hamlet'.”

Turning to me, Miles said: “I almost forgot, we have arranged hotel accommodation for you. As soon as we finish today, I'll take you there. It's only five minutes walk from the theatre.”

It had been a busy day, especially as I had got up at five o'clock in order to arrive at Leeds in time, so I was pleased to get to the hotel, a three star, but clean and comfortable and after a light meal and phoning Reggie to report on the day's events, I had an early night.

The following day was a dress rehearsal and this was followed by two 'preview' performances. I always preferred to perform in costume, and fortunately my predecessor in the rôle was not very different in size to me. I'm always in awe of the wardrobe departments in theatres and how efficient they are in modifying costumes when necessary. I had been to see them on my arrival the previous day and now, my costume was ready for the dress rehearsal.

As I walked to the front door of the theatre that morning I noticed a change on the billboards. Topping the bill was David Lodge of course, with his name above the play title. Other main players were listed below in smaller type, and now near the bottom was an addition which read: Special Guest – Harriet Stow from the Imperial Shakespeare Company, Stratford-Upon-Avon as 'Queen Gertrude'.

It was too late to put my name in the programme since it had been printed a couple of weeks previously. However, before each performance, after the announcement that cameras were not to be used and no video to be recorded, it was announced that I was playing 'Queen Gertrude'.

The previews went very well, with standing ovations at each one. Then came opening night with the local dignitaries in attendance and occupying the front row seats of course, although on a couple of occasions when I glanced at them, lit by the light spilling from the stage, a couple looked bored and I think one was asleep! The reviews were uniformly positive, and as usual, I cut them out to post to Emma to put in my latest scrapbook. Thanks to such good reports, the few seats left were sold and the 'house full' signs went up.

Leeds is about an hour's drive from York, so after the Saturday night performance I jumped into 'Bluebird' and drove home to Reggie, arriving about half past twelve. He had suggested that I drive up on Sunday morning, but I wanted to be able to spend two nights with him, and I duly got my reward. What a man!

One morning, midway through the first week, I had a phone call from Penny Lane, Duncan Morgan's secretary. It was an invitation from Duncan himself for Reggie and I to be his guests at the opening night down in Stratford, which fortunately or unfortunately was taking place the week after the season of 'Hamlet' finished, so I had no excuse not to attend. At Leeds, they would love to have extended the season as the demand for tickets was so high, but David had another commitment and couldn't stay on. Anyway, the season was sold out, so they had certainly been bailed out financially for a while. I hoped it was enough to keep them going.

I was a little surprised to receive the invitation and wondered if there was something behind it. After all, I had missed out on the part, but now it seemed Reggie and I would be sitting in the front row with the Theatre's CEO and his wife. I checked the dress code and it was 'black tie'. That was nice, I've always enjoyed dressing up.

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.

Chapter 29   A crisis

I enjoyed a week back in York. I visited Emma several times while Reggie was at the university. All the children were growing up and Emma was doing a marvellous job of raising them. I also did a bit of painting, of the house variety, with the permission of the owner, since the flat was looking a little shabby. It was quite enjoyable to have a break from my regular occupation, but only because I was secure in the knowledge that I would soon be returning to the stage.

I had kept in regular contact with Miriam and Itzak in America and was pleased to hear that their recital at the East Devon theatre, arranged by Hiram Thompson, was scheduled for four weeks later. I had promised them that Reggie and I would attend if possible and now it seemed that we could since I wasn't performing in the 'Scottish Play'. Since Magnolia had insisted that we stay with them, I sent her an email and received a reply saying that they were looking forward to seeing us again and that Henry would pick us up at the airport. I had told her that we could make our own way to East Devon by public transport, but she wouldn't hear of it. I booked our tickets, Economy Class this time. I don't want to sound like a miser, but it was a relatively short flight to Boston, and hardly justified the extra expense of Business Class.

In the meantime, there was another special event to attend – the opening night of 'The Scottish Play' in Stratford. Aunt Peggy in Australia had introduced me to a delightful Australian expression – to 'frock up', and since it was a 'black tie' evening for Duncan Morgan's special guests, that's exactly what I would be doing. From my ever-increasing wardrobe, I had chosen a floor-length jersey evening dress in dark cherry red with a V neck and a rather daring slit close to the thigh. I teamed it with 'sheer to the waist' tights and towering six-inch heels, comfortable in the fact I would still be shorter than Reggie.

On the morning of the opening night, we packed the car and headed south to Stratford. Purely by chance we decided to approach the town via the A3400 road passing through the historic small town of Henley-in-Arden, about thirty minutes drive north of Stratford. It was just after ten o'clock; Reggie was driving, and I was enjoying the view of the delightful old houses along the main street. It was then that I spotted them; Ioan Thomas and Edith Evans hand in hand leaving one of the old hotels. I quickly turned my head away, although they seemed so wrapped up in each other, I doubt if they would have noticed anyone in a passing car.

It took me a few minutes to digest what I had seen, and in fact, Reggie commented that I was unusually quiet. I told myself that in this modern age there was really nothing wrong with two consenting adults spending the night together if they wished, although inevitably the thought crossed my mind that perhaps this relationship had started before the audition, in other words, the infamous 'casting couch' Then I dismissed this thought as unworthy, especially since as far as I knew, the first time Edith had met Ioan was on the day of the audition. I decided not to tell Reggie that I had seen them since he was no actor and if he met the two of them later in the evening, his reaction might betray what he knew.

We arrived at the flat and took our change of clothes inside; then we went out for a light lunch, and afterwards had a couple of hours 'siesta', so that we would be fresh for the evening. Knowing what I would have been doing if I had been given the part, I wasn't greatly upset that I was in the position of being able to relax and then enjoy the performance.

As usual, it took me about three times as long as Reggie to get ready, but when I finally appeared, I could tell from the look on his face that all the effort had been worth it.

“Darling, every man we see tonight will be jealous of me because you are on my arm,” he said, and not to be outdone and in order to spice things up a bit I replied “And every woman will be jealous of me because when we get back I will be welcoming you into my bed!”

We might have sounded more like a couple on their honeymoon than two people who had been together for quite a few years but we both put a lot of effort into keeping our relationship fresh and exciting. Reggie looked very handsome in his dinner suit, but only I knew how handsome he was when he was out of it. Just the thought of that made my body tingle.

We had booked a taxi to take us to the theatre and also to pick us up late in the evening. That way we could have a drink while we were out. We arrived at the theatre in plenty of time to collect our tickets, which, as I suspected, were in the front row. We proceeded to the bar for a glass of champagne and when the bell rang, made our way down to the front row, where Duncan Morgan and his wife were already seated. Duncan stood as we approached and bade us 'good evening', shaking Reggie's hand and kissing me on the cheek. He then introduced us to his wife who complimented me on my choice of gown. I noticed that there was an empty seat on the far side of them and just as the lights started to dim, a tall elegant lady walked in and took her seat, whispering 'Sorry' as she did so.

The curtain rose upon the 'blasted heath' with the three witches. Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled. It's one the most dramatic openings of any of Shakespeare's plays. I sat back and relaxed, ready to enjoy myself. Little did I know that the real storm was about to break.

When the house lights rose at interval and we all rose to our feet to stretch our legs and go for a drink, Duncan said to us, “Harriet and Reginald, may I introduce Ceridwen Thomas, Ioan's wife? We've invited her here as a surprise for Ioan.”

' Oh he's going to get a surprise alright when he sees her,' I thought to myself, but I smiled and held out my hand. “Ceridwen! What a lovely name! How are you enjoying the play so far?”

“It's very exciting, and so well acted,” she responded in a voice even more musical than Ioan's. “Living in Llanelli as we do, I don't often get to see a play that Ioan is directing as he travels all over Britain, so this is a special treat.”

“Harriet is one of our young stars,” said Duncan. “We are fortunate to have her and now Edith playing major rôles in our plays. She'll be playing a title rôle in 'Romeo and Juliet' again later in the year. You really should try to see to come to Stratford to see it.”

“I certainly will try,” said Ceridwen politely.

There were a number of special guests at the performance including some of the Stratford councillors and a local member of parliament with his wife and we chatted politely as we had our drinks at the bar. All I could think about was the fireworks which were certain to ensue when Edith was introduced to Ceridwen after the performance. I knew I couldn't warn her, and even if I could, it wouldn't have been the right thing to do as it would have inevitably affected her performance. I would just have to let the drama play out. I was furious with Ioan; what on earth was he thinking of, deceiving Edith and his wife this way and what would be the consequences?

Inevitably, I was distracted from what was an excellent performance by all the cast including Edith. She thoroughly deserved winning the part. At the conclusion, after all the curtain calls and a standing ovation, the house lights came up fully and the audience began to leave. As I knew he would, Duncan said that there would be a small reception for cast and crew together with the special guests in one of the rehearsal rooms behind the stage, and we were invited to attend. In some ways I wished that we could leave, but I knew that was impossible. We duly followed the Morgans and Ceridwen into the rehearsal room where drinks and finger food were laid out on some tables.

People started to mingle and chat and I was on tenterhooks waiting for the inevitable explosion. Finally, Ioan reached Reggie and I and introduced Ceridwen.

“We've already had the pleasure of meeting her during the interval,” I said.”It must have been a wonderful surprise for you to see her here.”

“Yes it was,” he said, and I could tell that he was searching my face for any hidden meaning behind my words, but he didn't find any; I am after all an actress. As they went off to mingle with the other people present, I did my best to keep an eye on them while chatting with other people. Finally, I saw that despite his best efforts to avoid it, Ceridwen had steered him in the direction of Edith.

While I was too far away to hear what they were saying over the general hubbub of conversation, judging by their body language, Edith was actually holding it together after what must have been a terrible shock. I had little doubt that Ioan had told her he was single or divorced and now here was his wife! They did not talk for long and Edith turned and left the room, no doubt to find somewhere to be alone and absorb what had just happened, or maybe to just burst into tears.

I was relieved then Reggie glanced at his watch and said that we should leave the reception as our taxi would be arriving soon. We first made our way over to the Morgans to thank Duncan for inviting us to the evening. I mentioned that we were flying over to America to attend Miriam and Itzak's recital and that the Thompsons had insisted that we stay with them.

“Please pass on my regards,” said Duncan and I promised to do so. They would be meeting up when the Thompsons came over to England to see me perform in 'Romeo and Juliet' later in the year.

Travelling home in the taxi Reggie said “You seemed a bit distracted at the reception. Did something happen that I didn't notice?”

I didn't want to say anything which the taxi driver might overhear, so I assured him that nothing happened. However, when we reached the flat I told him how I had seen Ioan and Edith coming out of the hotel.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you before but I was concerned that you might give yourself away when you met Edith and Ioan. Of course, I had no idea about Ioan's wife; I assumed he was single or divorced and I'm sure he told Edith something like that too. I was waiting for an explosion when they, Edith and Ceridwen, met, but somehow she must have held it together. That's why I was distracted.”

“That sounds like a bad situation,” said Reggie. “What do you think is going to happen?”

“I really have no idea,” I replied. “But whatever it is, it's going to be nasty.”

On Sunday morning we drove back to York. The whole day I was waiting to hear something, but there were no calls. I started to think that Edith had somehow come to terms with the situation, unlikely though that seemed.

Monday morning we were up early and after breakfast, Reggie went to the university. He was now approaching the end of his final year, with exams coming up soon. He was studying every waking moment and I was determined to keep him fed and watered so that he could concentrate on his books. I had to think that it was a good thing I wasn't down in Stratford with the play. Then the phone rang. It was Duncan Morgan, the theatre CEO. I felt my heart thump as I answered it.

“Harriet! Thank goodness I caught you. We have a crisis here. This morning Edith Evans rang up and withdrew from the current production, citing 'personal reasons'.”

My heart sank. I know what was coming next.

“I know we have an understudy, but we can't let her take over for the rest of the season. Can I count on you to come back to Stratford and take over, please?”

“If it's really necessary, I'm sure Reggie will understand,” I replied, wondering if he would after my promise that nothing would stop me staying in York until the 'Romeo and Juliet' rehearsals started. I needed to think fast.

“Mr Morgan, Edith and I are quite friendly, perhaps I can find out what's happened and see if there's some way she can be persuaded to stay on.”

When he replied he sounded doubtful: “Of course you can try, Harriet, but when she spoke to me she sounded like she'd been crying, so whatever has happened must be serious.”

He wasn't wrong about that, but of course he didn't know the situation and I did. After he hung up, I dialled Edith's number. She answered after a few rings.

“Edith? It's Harriet. I've just had a call from Mr Morgan.”

“Oh Harriet, I'm so sorry to pull out, but I can't go on, I just can't,” she said, sounding like she was about to cry again.

“Edith, I know what's happened. Reggie and I were driving through Henley last Saturday morning and we saw you. Am I right in thinking that Ioan didn't tell you he was married?”

“Of course not, he said he was divorced.” She sounded a bit shocked that I should even ask the question.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “That was a stupid question. Of course you didn't know. It must have been such a shock when his wife appeared.”

“It was a shock for him too. Mr Morgan had arranged for her to come to the performance as a surprise for him. Well it was a surprise alright,” she sounded bitter. “He thought she was safely tucked away in Wales.”

“What happened when she was introduced to you?” I asked.

“I think I handled it alright, but I'm sure she knew; women just do. Anyway, I can't stay in Stratford, I”m packing my bags now. At least I know that my replacement will do a great job.”

“Edith, you know I wanted the rôle, but not this way. Will you let me contact someone and tell them the whole story? You can totally rely on their discretion. It won't go any further, I can guarantee that.”

“What good would it do?” she said. “I'm just an actress and he's a famous director. I know what the result will be.”

'He's not that famous. I'd never heard of him before he came to Stratford' I thought, but aloud I said. “Well at least let me try, please.”

“Alright,” she said reluctantly. “I promise I won't leave until I hear back from you.”

I was worried. I'd given her hope and maybe she was right and nothing could be done, but I wasn't prepared to let it go without a fight. I picked up my phone again and selected another number.

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

Chapter 30   Back to the States

After I hung up from talking to Edith, I sat and thought for a few minutes. I considered trying to phone Dame Emily, but decided that I shouldn't involve her, I knew what I had to do, so I dialled another number. No, it wasn't Duncan Morgan, but his secretary, Penny Lane, the 'power behind the throne', and just as importantly, a woman. I told her everything that had happened and as I expected, she was outraged.

“Duncan will not be at all happy about this. He doesn't believe that people in positions of authority should misuse their power. Leave it with me, I'll talk to him as soon as possible.”

So that was that. I had done all that I could do. Now Edith and I would have to wait and see what happened. I prayed that I hadn't given her false hope. Something else occurred to me. If Ioan lost his job, and that was the preferred outcome of my phone call to Penny, who would they get to replace him? Would they ask me? Surely not! And yet, I had some experience now as Assistant Director and if there was no one else...

The fact was that I wasn't confident enough to take over as Director yet. Despite his personal failings, I had seen that Ioan was a good Director and I might compare poorly with him. No, I would much prefer to get more experience before tackling such a responsible job, so now I had something else to worry about.

Two hours went by, and I was trying to distract myself with housework but it wasn't working. As the minutes ticked by, so my confidence in a positive outcome diminished. Then the phone ran, making me jump. It was Edith.

“Harriet, oh Harriet,” she cried and I could tell that the tears were flowing, but they were happy tears. “I've just had a call from Miss Lane. She told me that Ioan has returned to Wales due to an 'urgent family crisis' and won't be returning to Stratford. Instead, Gwynneth Soames will be taking over as director of the play. She asked if, in the circumstances, I would reconsider my resignation, and of course, I said 'yes'.”

“I am so glad for you Edith. That's the best news you could have had.”

“And it's all due to you,” she replied.

“Not really, I just made a phone call.”

“You rang Mr Morgan?” she asked, sounding as shocked as if I had put through a call to the Almighty.

“Better than that, I rang Penny Lane, his secretary. She's been with him for a long time and he trusts her judgement implicitly,” I replied.

“Well I just can't thank you enough, and Miss Lane and Mr Morgan of course. It's restored my faith in humanity.”

I laughed. “I'm sure we were all happy to right a wrong. Now you go out there and 'break a leg',” I said before hanging up and keeping my fingers crossed that she had learned a valuable lesson. Then I rang Reggie and told him what had happened.

“You're a star, Harriet. You could easily have said nothing and taken over the rôle but you did the right thing.”

“You're right, I wanted the part but not under those circumstances,” I replied. “And Edith will perform it well.”

I was right in that regard; she was a rising young star and the critics confirmed my judgement. You probably want to know what happened to Ioan. It turned out that this was not the first time he had taken advantage of his position, but he had got away with it previously. Don't ask how I know, the theatre world is a small one and news eventually gets around.

Ceridwen and he divorced, no surprise there, and that was the last I heard of him for a long time. Then, some years later, I was in America and caught the end credits of one of those soap operas that seem to go on for ever, there he was, 'Ioan Thomas, Director'. Quite frankly I thought he'd really come down in the world, although he was probably earning more than if he'd stayed in Britain. I hoped that he had learned his lesson too.

My reward for not taking on the 'Scottish Lady' was that I could now go to America and attend Miriam and Itzak's recital. I wasn't sure if Reggie would feel he had time to come as he was studying so hard, but he finally decided that a three-day break might be what was needed to clear his head and ready him for the 'last few weeks of toil', as he put it. He intended to bring along one or two books to study on the flight which I thought might negate the idea of the break, but I didn't argue with him. Instead, I decided to upgrade our tickets to Business Class so he would find it easier to relax and study.

We left Manchester early on a Friday morning having stayed in a hotel there overnight. The flight time was about ten hours, but we picked up five hours with the time difference, arriving in Boston about lunchtime. The flight was very comfortable and I was glad that I'd made the decision to upgrade our seats, it really makes a big difference if you can afford it. After picking up our luggage and going through Customs, we walked out into the Arrivals Hall and there was Henry waiting for us. He was easy to spot being so much taller than most of the other waiting chauffeurs.

“Henry!” I called out and his face broke out into a big grin: “Miss Harriet, it's so good to see you again, and Mr Reginald too.”

He insisted on taking hold of my case as he led us to where 'Annabel' was waiting. I was full of questions on how everybody was and if there was any news. In fact nothing of consequence had happened – it was only a few months since I had last been there after all, so then the conversation turned to what Reggie and I had been doing. In Reggie's case it was in a word – 'studying', but after his urging, I related how I had been called upon to step in at short notice to play Queen Gertrude in Leeds. I mentioned that David Lodge had played Hamlet and this immediately caught Henry's attention.

“You were on stage with David Lodge!” It wasn't a question, more a statement of wonder. “Blossom and I love watching your British tv on cable and we saw him in that 'Space and Time' show, So what's he like in real life?”

“He is the nicest guy you could hope to meet,” I replied. “There's not too many top actors who would be willing to help out a struggling theatre at a fraction of his normal pay, but that's the kind of guy he is. As a result, they had a sold-out season and can keep going.”

“It seems to me they had two top actors helping them out,” said Henry, and I blushed at the compliment.

“I don't see myself in David's league,” I said. “Well at least not yet,” I added with a laugh.

I should mention that the next time I saw David, which was some months later, I got him to sign a photograph with an inscription “To Blossom and Henry – Best Wishes, David”. I posted it to them and received a thank you card informing me that it was now framed and in a place of honour in their sitting room.

We stopped at the usual halfway point of the journey to East Devon, Henry being a creature of habit, and I ordered a regular coffee and a jelly donut, so what does that say about me? Reggie was considering a hamburger but Henry warned him that it would be a meal in itself. Ellen was cooking up a storm to celebrate our return and would be most offended if we were unable to do justice to it, so he settled for a donut and coffee too.

Arriving in East Devon we were greeted like long-lost relatives, and after being shown to our bedroom, and having a shower and change, as predicted, we were greeted with a sumptuous meal that evening. With local time five hours earlier than Britain, by mid-evening, our bodies were telling us it was past midnight, and together with all the travelling that day, we were feeling very tired. Fortunately Magnolia and Hiram understood what was happening, especially when we found it difficult to suppress yawns, and they excused us retiring early. It wasn't long before we were fast asleep.

The following morning over breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast, Magnolia said that Miriam and Itzak had requested my presence at the theatre that morning, where they were conducting their final rehearsal before the evening's recital. I have a feeling that I am naturally naïve because I thought they wanted some advice on the program; why else would they want to see me?

When Reggie and I arrived at the theatre, the two young people greeted me with hugs and kisses on the cheek.

“It's so good to see you again Harriet. None of this would have happened if you hadn't invited us to be guests at your own recital,” said Miriam. “Actually, since you're here, there's something you might be able to help us with. One of the items we've been rehearsing is a Rogers and Hammerstein song from South Pacific. Itzak has written an arrangement for piano and violin.”

“There's only one problem,” said Itzak with a mischievous grin on his face. “We neglected to organise someone to sing it and we wondered if you could help us out?”

I looked at Reggie: “You had a hand in this didn't you?” I accused him.

“What me?” he replied, trying to sound indignant, but he's not a good liar.

Turning back to Miriam and Itzak, I said: “This song wouldn't happen to be 'Bali Ha'i' by any chance?”

They both laughed and said in unison:”How did you guess?”

“Someone's being 'telling tales out of school'. You do realise that I've only just started taking singing lessons, don't you?”

“We heard you sing at your recital, and you have a nice voice, so please, will you give it a try?” said Miriam.

“Well alright, but if I'm terrible, you must tell me,” I said. “I don't want to embarrass you and myself.”

With that, they led me up to the stage. Itzak sat at the piano and Miriam picked up he violin. “I'll give you the opening note very softly,” she said. And so my impromptu rehearsal began. When it had finished, I actually received a round of applause from the people who were doing various tasks in the theatre.

“You were fine, really,” said Miriam. “So will you do it for us?”

It would have been churlish to refuse so I smiled and gave in.

“We don't want to push you,” said Itzak. “But there's one other item which doesn't involve singing. I've been writing a musical accompaniment to the reciting of the Shakespeare sonnet ' Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' It's the first time I've written something myself which I think is good enough to perform in public. Would you like to try it with us? Miriam will give you a nod when to start speaking.”

“Of course,” I replied. I was on surer ground now. They began to play and it was the loveliest, sweetest tune. I couldn't help thinking that Itzak was a young genius and his sister not far behind. Miriam nodded to me at the point where I should start speaking. I tried to match my rate of speech to the cadences of the music and managed pretty well as I spoke the last lines just before the final few bars of the music.

“Well? What do you think?” I asked.

“Wow, you nailed it first time,” said Itzak. “That's exactly how I imagined it.”

I complimented him on the music, saying I'd never heard anything better. There was nothing further for me to do, so we left them to their rehearsal.

I had brought an evening gown for the recital as it was a 'black tie' affair for the special guests. When we arrived back at the Thompsons', Magnolia smiled and said: “Well?”

I laughed. “Since everyone knew about this except me, the answer is, yes I will be performing a song with the two youngsters this evening. Everyone seems to think my singing 'passes with a push'.”

Magnolia smiled: “I'm sure it's a lot better than that.”

We had a light lunch and then a siesta before getting ready for the evening's show. Henry was driving us down in 'Annabel' and he and Blossom were staying to enjoy the recital. We took our seats in the front row, together with Miriam and Itzak's parents, grandparents and some other relatives. The auditorium was filling fast, and Magnolia told me it would be a full house.

Right on the stroke of eight o'clock, the recital began and the two youngsters showed no sign of nerves as they confidently played the items from the printed program. My contribution had been left out of the printed program, partly because they weren't sure if I would do it. It was scheduled for just before the interval.

Itzak stood up from the piano and walked to the front of the stage. “A few months ago, we were on this stage as special guests at the farewell recital of the famous Shakespearean actor Miss Harriet Stow, who was here as 'artist in residence' with the East Devon Theatre Company. Tonight I am so pleased to announce that she has flown over from England with her husband Mr Reginald Staunton to attend our recital.” There was applause at this point. “What's more, she has kindly agreed to sing 'Bali Ha'i' from the Rogers and Hammerstein musical South Pacific for us. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Harriet Stow.”

There was applause as I stood up and walked to the steps leading up to the stage. After my previous mishap, you can be sure I lifted up the hem of my dress and carefully negotiated them.

The song was very well received and the applause prolonged and genuine. When it subsided I spoke to the audience.

“Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen. When I met these two talented young people a few months back I immediately knew that they are stars in the making. In fact, they reminded me of the Menuhin brother and sister, even if the instruments are reversed. Itzak produced the wonderful adaption of the music for 'Bali Ha'i', and now we would like to perform a Shakespeare sonnet for you, probably the most famous one of all, ' Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' This time, Itzak has composed the musical accompaniment himself.”

I had told the audience what we were about to perform to try and stop or at least reduce applause when they recognised the sonnet. I nodded to the two youngsters and they started to play.

When we finished and the last note of the violin died away, there wasn't just applause but actually a standing ovation, something which is normally reserved for the conclusion of a concert. We bowed multiple times and then walked off the stage as the house lights rose and the interval was announced.

We joined the Thompsons and Rabinovich family at the bar. Initially, Magnolia was missing and when she appeared, she whispered to me that she'd had to go and repair her makeup because she had shed some tears during the final item before the interval. “You are all stars, my dear,” she said. The two young people had soft drinks and I rewarded myself with a glass of champagne. We were deluged with compliments and I insisted that the greatest praise should be directed to Miriam and Itzak and that I was privileged to take a small part in the recital..

For the second half of the concert, I resumed my seat in the front row. The playing was superb and the program well chosen and I wasn't in the least surprised when they received another standing ovation at the end. I was so pleased for them. When we gathered together for a light supper after the performance, I told them that I was looking forward to catching up with them in Stratford when they came over to see a performance of 'Romeo and Juliet' in a few month's time. It would be their first trip to England and they were really looking forward to it, so I told them I would show them around Stratford included historic places like Shakespeare's grave, the Knott Garden where 'New Place' had stood, and also his parents' house.

“I've heard that England is full of historic places,” said Miriam.

“It certainly is,” I replied. “Don't try to see too much at one time or it will all become a blur in your mind.” I had a sudden thought “Have you ever heard 'The Lark Ascending' by Ralph Vaughan Williams?” I asked.

It seemed that they hadn't, so I told them my favourite performance was by Hugh Bean with the New Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Sir Adrian Boult. “There's only one word for it – magical,” I said. “If you can't find a CD of it, let me know and I'm sure I can find one in England to send over to you. However, there is a version for violin and piano, why don't you check it out? You can find some recordings on YouTube, but I'm sure you could play it better than any of those.”

They promised they would do that. I wouldn't have even mentioned it, but I was confident that these two young stars could produce a fine performance.

As we returned to the Thompsons' house, Hiram said: “You have an excellent singing voice, Harriet. You really should consider auditioning for Broadway.”

“Thank you very much,” I replied. “But I'm still taking singing lessons and think I have a way to go yet. Maybe I could do that in a year or two. I'll be guided by what my singing teacher thinks.”

Hiram laughed. “You are the most modest star I ever met. I understand what you mean, but please don't leave it too long, and let me know, alright?”

I was aware that Hiram knew a lot of people, but I didn't want to rush things. There's a saying that you only get one chance to make a first impression and I didn't want to be written off before I had properly prepared. When I did finally audition for a singing role it would be for a provincial company in England or maybe an 'Off-Broadway' production, starting small, the same way I had in my acting career.

The visit was too short, but we had to get back to England for Reggie's sake, so the next morning after breakfast we made our goodbyes, Henry loaded our suitcases into Annabel's trunk and we started on the long trip back to Boston. This time we would be heading east, so adding five hours to the ten hours of flying time. I had booked an early evening flight out of Boston which was landing in Manchester in the early morning and we could then drive back to York.

The flight was very comfortable and we slept most of the way, awakening to breakfast about ninety minutes before we landed.

We drove out into the Manchester traffic about ten o'clock when the worst of the morning peak hour had subsided, but it was still busy as it always is. An hour later saw us arrive back in York and our trip to America seemed like a dream.

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.

Chapter 31   A chance meeting

Back in York, I devoted myself to the rôle of 'domestic goddess', doing everything I could to make Reggie's life run smoothly while he studied for his final exams. I also made several visits to my sister Emma, her family and Stella and spent some happy times with them. It was certainly a contrast from my life onstage, but a very pleasant interlude.

Finally, the days of Reggie's exams arrived. I had no doubt that he would do well, but it seemed like tempting fate to say so. The day of his final exam he came home and I could tell that he had something on his mind. In reply to my enquiry about how it had gone he replied:

“I don't want to sound overconfident but I think it all went well. Something happened today; just as I was leaving the exam room I ran into the Dean of the college. He said ' Staunton isn't it?' and when I admitted to it, he continued 'I understand that you have been doing very well. Have you considered going on to do an 'Honours' year?' I was a bit surprised and replied that I was thinking about it. I didn't know what else to say.”

“And are you thinking about it?” I asked.

Reggie looked a bit embarrassed: “Yes and no. I've been living the life of a 'kept man' for a couple of years now, with you providing all the funds for us to live on. I really feel that it's time I found a job and started to make a contribution.”

“But wouldn't it help you find a better job if you had a “Hons' after your 'BA'?” I asked. “It's your decision of course, but if you really want to do it, I will support you any way I can and that includes financially. I'm earning enough for us to live on, so the choice is yours.”

So it was decided that if Reggie's results were good enough and I had little doubt that they would be, he should continue on to do an 'Honours' year.

Now that his exams were finished, and because I still had a couple of weeks before I had to return to Stratford to start rehearsing 'Romeo and Juliet', we decided to have a week's holiday in the Lake District. Emma and I had been taken there by our parents when we were young and images had stuck in my mind. We toured around, staying in old pubs and thoroughly enjoying ourselves.

At one point we went to Wastwater, a glacial lake surrounded by spectacular mountains, including Great Gable and Scafell, which, together with its neighbour, Scafell Pike are the two highest peaks in England. We stayed overnight at the Wasdale Head Inn, visited the tiny church of St Olaf and the next day climbed Scafell, carrying water bottles and the famous Kendal Mint Cake, a staple of mountaineers the world over, and by that I mean serious climbers of the world's highest peaks, including Hilary and Tenzing on their ascent of Everest. I hasten to add that it is not 'cake' as we know it but a white slab of solidified glucose, milk and mint essence, a great source of energy.

The climb took us about three hours to the cairn at the summit. It is more of a steep walk and scramble rather than a climb but quite tiring. Reggie was surprised that I kept up with him but I pointed out that I have 'actors' lungs'. We rested for fifteen minutes and took pictures of each other to prove that we had 'summited'.

I have debated with myself whether I would recount the following as unlikely coincidences are a staple of rubbishy novels, but they do happen in real life too. I decided that it would be nice to get a picture of Reggie and me together, so I approached a couple of young women who were resting before they tackled the descent, and asked if they would mind taking a picture of us.

“Sure, we'd be glad to,” said one, and recognising her American accent, just to be sociable, I mentioned that we had recently been in the United States.

“Where did you go?” asked one of the young women who had introduced herself as Jen and her friend as Jan.

I thought I was on safe ground when I said: “It's a little place you've probably never heard of, called East Devon in Massachusetts.”

“No way!” Jen exclaimed. “My Mom lives there, it's where I was brought up.”

Jan said “Didn't she say an English lady was there recently teaching the local theatre company how to act Shakespeare's plays? Was that you ma'am?”

I could hardly deny it. “Yes, that was me, but I wasn't really teaching them, they're very good already. It was more like mentoring and I learned things from them as well.”

“Well she told me that the last production of 'Romeo and Juliet' was the best she's ever seen them do and I'm guessing that was after you were there,” said Jen.

I felt a bit embarrassed. “Yes, we did work on it together.”

“Are you performing here in England at present?” asked Jan, so I had to tell them that I was about to start rehearsals for 'Romeo and Juliet at Stratford.

“Mom loves Shakespeare, and we promised to go to Stratford and take some pictures for her. We'll have to see you perform too. I'm guessing you are 'Juliet', right?”

I agreed that was the case, and when I mentioned that Richard Jenkins was playing 'Romeo', that seemed to make their attendance obligatory. They both looked ready to swoon!

“You're playing opposite Richard Jenkins?” gasped Jen.

“Sure,” I said nonchalantly. “We're old friends.”

“Wow!” said Jan, and that single word seemed to sum up her feelings.

Then, of course, they had to have a picture with me to send back to the States, and I ended up telling them that if they made it to a performance, to tell one of the ushers that they are Jan and Jen from Scafell, and he would bring them to my dressing room after the performance.

After a few hugs, Reggie and I started on our way down the mountain.

“I can't get over how kind you are to people you've never met before,” said Reggie.

“It's called 'public relations'; after all they make up the audience who come to see me perform and pay my wages,” I replied. “I think they deserve a little extra for doing that, don't you?”

He rolled his eyes but said nothing more.

The descent took about two hours but needs care and is actually more difficult than the ascent. We were proud of ourselves when we reached the bottom and returned to the inn for a substantial evening meal. As we tucked in, Reggie said: “You know, the news of your meeting with those girls will go all round East Devon, it's a small place after all. You might even make it into the local newspaper.”

“I hardly think so,” I replied, but he was right as he so often was.

A few weeks later, I received in the mail a brief note from Magnolia, saying I might like to see the enclosed newspaper cutting; also how much they were all looking forward to coming over to see me onstage in a couple of weeks. I opened the cutting which came from the 'East Devon Gazette':

Under the heading 'Local girls meet famous theater actress on mountain top', was the picture Reggie took of me with Jen and Jan on Scafell. Beneath that was the following text which I reproduce exactly as it was written:

“Recently, local girls Jen Harris and Jan Scott, students at Boston University and currently on exchange with Durham University in England, were surprised to meet famous Shakespearean actress Harriet Stow on the summit of Scafell Mountain in England's Lakes District. Miss Stow, who recently spent two months mentoring our local theater company, was happy to pose for photos. Currently rehearsing for 'Romeo and Juliet' with superstar Richard Jenkins, she graciously invited the girls to meet up with her when they attend a performance in Shakespeare's home town of Stratford-on-Avon next month.”

When I showed the article to Reggie, his reply was: “I told you so.”

We spent the rest of the week touring around the Lakes, including visits to Dove Cottage and Rydal Mount, homes of William Wordworth, who is buried in the graveyard at St Oswald's church Grassmere. As the Poet Laureate I was surprised he wasn't buried in Westminster Abbey and his gravestone is surprisingly modest, but it certainly attracts many visitors. Everyone knows his poem 'Daffodils' which starts:' I wandered lonely as a cloud...' even if they know nothing else that he wrote.

On our last day we visited the Castlerigg stone circle on a hill outside the town of Keswick. Built on a low rise about 3200BC and surrounded by some of the highest Cumbrian peaks of Skiddaw, Helvellyn, Blencathra and Grassmoor, it is a magical place. I remembered being taken there by my parents when Emma and I were quite young and of course it was exactly how I remembered it, and will be for thousands of years to come. Standing in the middle of something so ancient makes us aware of our own fleeting mortality.

We drove back to York for a few days and then it was time for me to return to Stratford to start rehearsals for 'Romeo and Juliet'. I was very pleased for Reggie's sake that he had obtained a short-term job in the university Administration Department during the recess between semesters, replacing someone on long-term sick leave. Ever since he had commented that he felt like a 'kept man', I had worried about his feelings of self-worth and hoped that doing a job and earning money would make a difference for him. Of course I would have liked him to come to Stratford with me, but then, what would he do while I was rehearsing and later acting? No, it was better that he stayed in York. Some people might think that ours was an unusual marriage, but it worked for us.

Just before I returned to Stratford, I had a phone call from Hannah Barrow who was directing the play.

“Harriet, how are you?” she said and not waiting for a response continued. “I have news for you, Dame Emily is going to play your nurse in 'Romeo and Juliet'.”

I was shocked as I had understood another famous actress was in the running for the rôle and expected to get it. I managed to pull myself together.

“That's wonderful news, Miss Barrow,” I replied.

“Call me Hannah,” she replied. “It's a great coup for the Company. She was shooting a film and it finished early.”

“I will look forward to working with her again. We were both in 'Hamlet' together.”

“Really? Well you have the advantage on me. It will be my first experience of working with her, but I'm really looking forward to it.”

When I put the phone down, I stared into space for a few minutes. I was surprised to find that I felt a little ambivalent about the news. Of course it would be wonderful to act with Dame Emily again, but I was also aware that she had played 'Juliet' to great aclaim when she was a young actress and I wondered if she would inevitably compare my performance with hers.

Arriving at the theatre for the first rehearsal, Dame Emily greeted me with a hug and said she was so looking forward to working with me! Then Richard stepped up and gave me an even more enthusiastic hug. It was great to be among old friends again.

I have previously written about rehearsals, so suffice it to say that all went well, as indeed it should have done, we were all professionals after all.. Some people have asked me why actors need to rehearse when they know a part so well, but I compare it to a top symphony orchestra rehearsing works with which they are very familiar. Each conductor has his own interpretation of a work, just as a theatre director has.

It was my first experience of working with a female director of 'Romeo and Juliet' and it was interesting to experience a female take on the play. I had worked with many of the cast before and we all got on very well together.

I still felt some trepidation about performing such a major rôle in front of Dame Emily and I think she sensed my unease. One day when Richard and I were rehearsing the 'Balcony Scene' I suddenly realised that Dame Emily was sitting near the back of the stalls watching us. I was surprised as she had a couple of words to say in the scene when the nurse calls to Juliet from within the house even though she doesn't actually appear. When the voice came though, it was Hannah who spoke the words.

Later, we had a break and Dame Emily came up to me: “That was truly excellent, my dear. You remind me of myself when I was younger, if that doesn't sound like I'm boasting,” she said with a smile. “Now stop worrying about what I think and just go out there and slay them.”

'Thank you, Dame Emily,” I said. “I didn't realise that my concerns were so obvious.”

“I was young once too, my dear and I know what it was like to act in front of someone with more experience, but you have nothing to worry about. It helps too that there is such obvious chemistry between you and Richard.”

I could feel myself blushing: “That can be a problem too. Some people think that we are doing more than just acting. Thank goodness Reggie trusts me.”

She sighed: “I know exactly what you mean. When I was young and just married, some of the press seemed to take a delight in implying that I was having an affair with every leading man I acted with. My late husband was very good about it and knew it was all rubbish, but there's nothing you can do about it, so just ignore them.”

We both laughed and after that I was able to relax.

While the rehearsals were in progress, I returned to York and Reggie every weekend, but this would stop when the season began and I had to perform on Saturday nights and instead, he would make the trip to Stratford.

I must confess I was happy to be back onstage, and there was something else to look forward to – Dale and Frank's Commitment Ceremony and Reception which fortunately was taking place on the Saturday two weekends prior to the start of the 'Romeo and Juliet' season. I think they planned it that way as they knew I couldn't attend once the season started.

Surprisingly the problem for them wasn't finding a 'gay-friendly' reception centre so much as finding one which was prepared to cater for only about thirty guests. Fortunately they found the perfect place a few miles out of Stratford on the banks of the Avon, with a wonderful view of the countryside, looking much as it must have done in Shakespeare's day. Dale took me to see it one morning when I wasn't required for rehearsal; I think he wanted my approval and he had it.

Reggie and I discussed what we should give them for a present. We knew that they were trying to save to buy their own place so we finally decided to offer to pay for the reception. Sometimes it's more difficult to give a present than to receive one. Both Dale and Frank were slightly shocked when we told them what we had in mind, but were finally persuaded to accept our offer. I had another surprise gift for them which was two tickets to the opening night of 'Romeo and Juliet', in the centre of the front row of the Dress Circle, Frank's favourite seats. I was going to present the tickets to them on the evening of the reception. I knew they would be back in time as they were only going away for a week to Edinburgh as a 'honeymoon'.

I discussed with Frank what I should wear as 'Best Woman'. He and Dale would be wearing 'black tie', so logically that meant a floor-length gown, and I had my eye on the perfect one in a Stratford boutique. No woman needs an excuse to buy a new dress but this was the perfect one. It was in blue chiffon and stretch satin with a beaded halter neck, sleeveless and backless, so rather sexy if I say so myself. Not something you'd wear to go shopping! I economised by not buying new shoes since I already had the perfect pair of heels to go with the dress. When I modelled it for Reggie, his comment was “Wow!” I think he must have been taking lessons from the American girls!

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.

Chapter 32   'Accept this ring...'

Like many people, I have attended a number of weddings, but the one that stands out in my memory wasn't officially a wedding at all, although it really was one in all but name. Frank and Dale's commitment to each other was just as binding in their eyes as a marriage, but I'm glad they did not delay having their ceremony as it would be another ten years before the British government, lagging behind public opinion as happened in many other countries, finally made same-sex marriage legal. In the main, this was due to the ultra-conservatives in both politics and churches who predicted dire consequences if the law was ever passed.

It comes as no surprise to learn that their predictions were totally false. One of these, absurd though it so obviously was, predicted that people who supply services to a wedding, such as caterers, dress-makers, photographers etc would be sued if they declined to accept a booking for a same-sex wedding because they were morally opposed to it. Why on earth would anyone organising a wedding try to force someone to supply a service against their will, when there were so many others only too happy to step in? There is enough stress in organising a wedding without deliberately adding to it unnecessarily.

As mentioned previously, Dale and Frank's ceremony would be attended by only about thirty guests. I am totally n favour of this since it means that everyone can meet everyone else, something which is impossible when the guest list numbers a hundred or more. Reggie was invited to be a 'groomsman/usher' which meant that he could sit at the top table with me in my rôle as 'Best Woman'. I would be performing the same duties as the 'Best Man' in a traditional wedding with the exception of taking the grooms out on a boozy 'bachelor party', also known as a 'stag night', which in any case Dale and Frank had decided against in favour of the four of us going out to dinner a few nights before the ceremony. I fully approved of this decision. Call me old-fashioned if you like, but the idea of getting a groom or grooms drunk and placed in compromising situations is not one of which I approve.

Dale's parents were going to be present at the ceremony, having reconciled themselves to his choice of a life partner, but sadly Frank's parents were unable to accept his decision and had refused the invitation. However, his sister Catherine and her husband Jack were going to attend, so Catherine was asked to be Matron of Honour and Jack a groomsman/usher. I could tell that Frank was bitterly disappointed by his parents' decision. Effectively they had made an ultimatum – chose between us or Dale. Of course, there was no contest, how could there be?

The day of the ceremony finally arrived. We had already discussed the logistics of the four of us getting ready in a flat with only one bathroom, and Dale and Frank had solved this by booking a room at a hotel where they could arrive about ten in the morning and also stay overnight before heading off on their trip. This meant that Reggie and I could have the flat to ourselves and there was no problem about me wandering around in my undies. Reggie had the first shower because he was obviously going to take much less time than me to get ready, and I wouldn't be rushing around with one eye on the clock.

In fact I was ready in a little over two hours and Reggie's reaction was most satisfying. Naturally, I complimented him too as he looked incredibly handsome in his dinner suit. It's sad in a way that men don't have a choice when it comes to formal wear – white shirt, black suit, bow tie and shoes, well that's what I thought anyway.

We took a taxi to the reception centre, arriving at six o'clock. It was beautifully set up with an area best described as a small 'bower' with an arch covered in flowers and large vases filled with flowering plants. This I presumed was where the ceremony would take place. Next to it was a small table with a multi-tier cake with two male figures on the top. Some of the guests had already arrived, and I introduced Reggie to Dale's parents.

Drinks and canapés were being served and a man in a tuxedo approached us, saying he was Robert, the Master of Ceremonies and asked if I was Miss Stow. Reggie and I were then shown into a small room where we found Dale and Frank. My ideas about what they would wear went out of the window. While they still wore white shirts, black trousers and shoes, Dale wore a burgundy velvet jacket and Frank a similar one in electric blue!

“Wow! You two look amazing!” I exclaimed.

“I' glad you like them,” said Dale. “This was Frank's idea and I thought it was a great one. We'll certainly stand out from the other men at the reception!”

“And so you should,” said Reggie.

A waitress came in with canapés and drinks for us. I could tell that Dale and Frank were very nervous, so we all made small-talk trying to keep them relaxed. Finally, the Master of Ceremonies came in to say that everyone had arrived.

Dale looked at Frank and grasping his hand said: “Here we go!”

First Catherine and Jack, then Reggie and I made our entrance to the strains of Jeremiah Clarke's 'Trumpet Voluntary' and applause, which increased in volume as Dale and Frank made their appearance and stood under the arch facing each other waiting for the celebrant to appear. They turned to the guests and it was then that I noticed that Frank had turned white and swayed slightly. Dale grasped his hands, spoke quietly and steadied him. I followed Frank's gaze and was suddenly realised that I was looking at two people that I recognised from a framed photo in Dale and Frank's room. I was looking at Frank's parents – they had come after all! I was so pleased for him but couldn't help thinking that they could have warned him – having one of the grooms faint before the ceremony would not have been a good look.

The celebrant, a charming woman who looked very like Dawn French walked in from the side and introduced herself as Helen. She was wearing a quasi-religious robe and made a joke about not being the Vicar of Dibley which got a laugh and helped relax things. She told us that we were gathered to celebrate Dale and Frank's love and commitment to each other to the exclusion of all others and with the firm intention that it would last for life. In that, it was very similar to a wedding ceremony.

Then came the vows which Frank and Dale had written themselves. Each, in turn, were separately asked if they would take each other as a life partner to love, cherish and support through good times and bad for the rest of their lives.

This was the point at which I as 'Best Woman' was asked for the rings and handed them to the celebrant who passed them to Dale and Frank separately so they could put them on each other's 'ring finger', saying: “Accept this ring as a symbol of my undying love for you. Please take it and wear it as a symbol of all that we share today and always.”

The ceremony continued with a quote from the bible which probably surprised some people but both Dale and Frank felt that fact that it wasn't a religious ceremony didn't mean that one of the greatest descriptions of love could not be included. It was from 1 Corinthians 13, verses 1-8 which most people know whether they are religious or not as it is quoted in many wedding ceremonies.

It starts: "If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.” and concludes with ”Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

I glanced at Dale's and Frank's mothers and saw that they were dabbing at their eyes, and it suddenly occurred to me that it was Frank's mother who had insisted, probably at the last minute, that they come.

To conclude the ceremony, Helen announced that by their vows and the giving and receiving of rings, Dale and Frank had committed themselves to each other and she was proud to announce that they were now partners for life. At this point Dale and Frank exchanged a brief and chaste kiss on the lips, and everyone started to applaud. They were led to a little table where a Certificate of Commitment had been prepared for them to sign, and the final part of the ceremony was where it was presented to them. Both sets of parents stepped forward to congratulate them with hugs and kisses and I was so pleased for them, especially Frank that it took all my self-control not to shed a tear too.

The whole ceremony had been recorded on video with some pictures taken of the highlights. Now we were led onto the balcony for photographs of every combination of family and friends before going inside and taking our seats for the reception. With the last minute arrival of Frank's parents, some rearranging of the top table had been achieved. Both sets of parents were seated on either side of their sons, with Catherine and Jack next to Frank's parents and Reggie and me next to Dale's parents. Thank goodness the M.C. who was also the owner of the reception centre had managed to be so flexible.

Everyone took their seats and the M.C. announced that dinner would be served. Following the entrée and main course came the speeches, much as they do in a wedding reception. There were some changes; Dale's father spoke and proposed a toast to the two grooms, then Dale spoke on behalf of himself and Frank, starting with the traditional 'On behalf of my partner and myself...' which always gets a laugh and a cheer. He proposed a toast to the 'Best Woman', the 'Matron of Honour' and the two groomsmen/ushers.

Then it was my turn. I spoke about how I had met Dale when he gave me driving lessons and then helped me buy a car and had ever since made sure that 'Bluebird' was in top running order.

“I hope I can still count on him to continue doing that,” I said to laughter. Then I spoke about meeting Frank for the first time and how I was sure even then that he and Dale would end up being partners. “Call it women's intuition if you like but it rarely fails me. Some of you may know that I am currently Dale and Frank's landlady, a situation which I selfishly hope will continue for some time to come. There's a reason for this of course, they are a lot tidier than I am.”

When the laughter died down, I said: “Some of you know that I earn my living by standing on a stage and talking, but have no fear, I don't intend this speech to be a three-act play in length. To conclude, I looked for a piece of poetry which would aptly describe what we see before us with Frank and Dale today and could find nothing better than one written by our local playwright William Shakespeare in one of his sonnets and this is what it says:

'Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error, and upon me prov’d,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.'

With that, I sat down to applause. I know what you are thinking 'The woman just can't help herself.' However, in my defence, both Frank and Dale later told me it was one of the best wedding speeches they had ever heard.

It was now time for the cutting of the cake and after that, a trio of musicians started to play and there was dancing and much conversation and laughter. Dale and Frank asked Catherine and I to dance and halfway through the first bracket of tunes we swapped partners, while first, the parents and then other guests joined in. While dancing with Dale I took the opportunity to ask him about the unexpected arrival of Franks parents.

“We genuinely didn't know they were coming. You saw Frank's reaction; I really thought he was going to faint, thank goodness he didn't. Catherine had been trying to persuade her parents to come for weeks and it seems his mother finally put an ultimatum to his father saying that she'd never speak to him again if he wouldn't attend his only son's wedding. That was yesterday so it was quite a rush for them to get ready. Frank's Mum only bought her new outfit this morning in Stratford. Fortunately, his father already had a dinner suit, and they picked it up from the dry cleaners only an hour before they got ready at the hotel.”

“Well, I'm so glad they came. I know it means the world to Frank, in fact to both of you. I hope this is the start of a new chapter in Franks relationship with his parents.”

The dessert was served and later there was more dancing before Frank and Dale finally left the reception, after going around all the guests grouped in a circle and giving each a hug and a kiss or handshake. It was a very pleasant evening and both Reggie and I enjoyed it very much. I must admit that when we arrived back at the flat, I was happy to kick off my heels and relax my feet in slippers.

'And so to bed' as Samuel Pepys wrote.

On Sunday we enjoyed a quiet time, going out to lunch and generally relaxing until Reggie had to drive back to York. Before he left he asked me if I was alright about sleeping in the flat on my own while the boys were away.

“Don't be silly, I'm a big girl now,” I replied.

However, Reggie was right; it was a little strange being in the flat on my own at night. Dale and Frank were due back the following Sunday, and Reggie had promised to drive down from York on Friday evening but I still had six nights on my own. Normally I am a good sleeper, but I was finding it harder to rest and lay awake for an hour or more before finally falling into a troubled sleep.

Each evening I rang Reggie, and I was disappointed when on Thursday he told me that a well-known and very reputable economist was visiting York and it had been arranged that he would give a lecture at the university on Friday evening. Senior staff had strongly suggested that all the economics students attend, so Reggie was asking if I minded if he attended too and drove down to Stratford early Saturday morning. Of course I was disappointed but didn't want to disappoint him, so I tried to sound cheerful when I said that would be alright.

It was now a little over a week before the season of 'Romeo and Juliet' started, so the pressure was intensifying. I decided to go to bed early Friday evening, so I would be up by the time Reggie arrived. Surprisingly I fell asleep quite quickly, but some time later I was suddenly wide awake. I lay there in the darkness, straining my ears and wondering what had woken me, and then I heard it. One of the floorboards in the corridor outside my bedroom squeaked when trodden on. I had been thinking of getting it fixed, but Dale and Frank said it didn't bother them, so there was really no need.

I heard the squeak again - someone was in the flat! . It couldn't be Dale, Frank or Reggie, so it must be a burglar. I quietly slipped out of bed and reached underneath it for the baseball bat that Reggie had insisted on placing there in case of an emergency just like this one. With my heart pounding I tiptoed over to stand behind the door. I prayed whoever it was would take whatever he wanted from other rooms in the flat and then leave, but my hopes were in vain. As I stood there, the baseball bat gripped in both hands and raised just as I had seen baseball players do, the door silently swung open. The room was pitch black but I could just make out a figure standing there so I swung the bat down with all my might, and the shock of it striking bone travelled up my arm. The intruder groaned and fell to the floor with a crash.

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.

Chapter 33   A night of drama

I'm sure we've all had moments when we wished we could turn back the clock – this was one of mine. Fortunately, the man moved just as the baseball bat crashed down on him, so instead of hitting the middle of his skull as I intended, it glanced off one side and hit his shoulder. Hearing him groan, I knew instantly who it was. I leapt to the light switch and turned it on, only to confirm my fears. Reggie was lying face down on the floor. Dropping the bat I rushed over and knelt beside him.

“Reggie, oh Reggie!” I cried. “What have I done?”

Reggie groaned and it was music to my ears as I thought for a moment that I had killed him. He slowly turned over, wincing as his shoulder touched the floor and he peered up at me through half-closed eyes.

“Harriet? Why did you do that?” he groaned.

“I thought you were a burgler! I almost screamed. “Oh Reggie, why didn't you tell me you were coming down after all? I might have killed you.”

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts and spoke slowly: “The guest speaker cancelled at the last minute, so I thought I'd drive down anyway. It was meant to be a surprise, and it certainly was that.” He glanced at the baseball bat which I had dropped beside him. “You should try out for the Boston Red Sox.”

At least his sense of humour was intact but I was worried about what damage I might have done to him. He was struggling to get up but I immediately told him to keep still.

“Just lie there Reggie, I'm going to call an ambulance.”

“Don't do that, they might inform the police,” Reggie said. “If what happened gets out, the tabloids will crucify you.”

“But you need checking out; I might have split your skull.”

“Then tell them I fell over in the dark and crashed against some furniture, alright?” He paused: “And hide that bloody baseball bat!”

It gave me some comfort that he was thinking so logically, more logically in fact than I was, but I still felt he should be checked out, so I called '999', asked for 'Ambulance' and briefly told them the version of events we had agreed upon. Now I had recovered from the initial shock, I hurriedly dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt and put on some lights, including the one outside the porch to let the paramedics know where we were.

The ambulance arrived five minutes later. The lights were flashing but thank goodness they weren't using their siren as it was after midnight and I didn't want the street woken up. Two young men got out of the ambulance and approached me.

“Good evening miss, where is the patient please?”

“He's my husband and he's in the bedroom,” I replied. They asked our names and I used 'Staunton' for both of us. Sometimes it's handy to work under a different name.

They walked into the bedroom, knelt down beside Reggie and checked his 'obs' and the area of his injuries. He wasn't bleeding but an area on his head was already developing a big bruise and I had little doubt that there would be another one on his shoulder. That was confirmed when they eased off his coat and shirt, but at least there was no bone fracture.

“What exactly happened here? Was he unconscious?” they asked.

“Yes, for a minute or so. Reginald drove down from York to join me for the weekend. He didn't turn on the lights so as not to disturb me, and tripped over and hit his head and shoulder on the furniture,” I said with a perfectly straight face, acting the anxious wife, which really didn't require much acting. “When I realised what had happened I rang you.”

“There doesn't seem to be any serious injuries, but when someone bangs their head and loses consciousness we prefer to take them to hospital for observation just in case of an internal bleed,” said the senior paramedic.

“Can I come with him?” I asked and they agreed that I could ride in the ambulance with Reggie. They went back to the ambulance for a trolley and loaded Reggie up ready for transportation. I left a quick note for Dale and Frank in case they came back early, and also left a light on to make it look like someone was home. The last thing I wanted was a real burglar to breaking in while we were away.

Stratford only has a community hospital with limited services, so we set off for Warwick Hospital about ten miles away which has an Accident and Emergency Department and with the lights flashing we arrived there in under fifteen minutes. I rode in the back with Reggie and one of the paramedics and we kept a close eye on Reggie during the journey. He winced a bit when we ran over bumps in the road, even though the driver was keeping his speed down to make the ride as smooth as possible. The paramedic named David checked his 'obs' every five minutes or so and said Reggie was doing fine.

He was taken into the Emergency Department and David gave a brief history to the triage nurse while Reggie was wheeled into a cubicle and transferred into one of those incredibly narrow beds.. I went with him and sat beside the bed, waiting for the doctor to arrive. One of the nurses, with my help, eased him out of his clothes. I was shocked at the size of the bruise now developing on his shoulder. Then the doctor arrived.

“I'm Doctor Murphy,” he sais in a broad Irish accent. “Now what have we here?”

I gave him our concocted story again, and he examined Reggie.

“What exactly did he hit?” he asked.

“Well it was dark but I think it must have been my dressing table,” I replied

“Well, neither his skull nor his clavicle are broken, although as you can see he has two big bruises. I'm a bit concerned that he lost consciousness, so I think an MRI scan is in order just to exclude internal bleeding.”

With that he left to attend to other patients and we both waited for about ten minutes until an orderly came and wheeled Reggie away to the Radiology Department. He returned after about thirty minutes and then we waited again for the results.

Dr Murphy returned and announced that there was no sign of bleeding but nevertheless Reggie should stay overnight for observation. He was given an injection to ease the pain and I settled down for a long night, sitting beside him and it wasn't long before both he and I fell asleep.

I awoke to see a grey dawn breaking outside the window. It was raining and looked miserable. I stood up and walked around trying to shake off the stiffness from sitting in an uncomfortable chair for about six hours. Reggie was still asleep, so I went to the desk and asked if there was anywhere I could get a coffee. A nurse directed me to a small café where a sleepy-looking catering staff member sold me a coffee and an egg and bacon roll. I felt a bit better after I had consumed them, and arrived back in Emergency just in time to see Dr Murphy, whom I imagined was coming to the end of his shift, check Reggie for the last time and pronounced him ready to go home. He wrote out a script for a pain-killer rather more powerful than the average paracetamol or aspirin and advised complete rest for a few days and a checkup with a local doctor, before leaving for his own well-earned rest, with our thanks.

Reggie had been given a cup of coffee and a plate of sandwiches and already looked a lot better. A nurse came in and help me with getting Reggie dressed and I asked the receptionist to ring a taxi to take us back to Stratford. The taxi arrived in five minutes and the driver was happy to get a bigger than usual fare. Reggie had been given a pain-killing injection before we left which presumably contained some narcotic and as a result, it wasn't long before he fell asleep. I watched the scenery go by and started to think about the implications of the doctor's advice. Reggie was in no state to travel back to York and be on his own, but I had a final week of rehearsals and then a couple of preview performances to attend. What was I going to do?

Just then my mobile phone rang; it was Frank.

“Hello Harriet, we just got back a day early, what's happened?” he said.

I gave him the official version after all taxi drivers do have ears. I could tell him the real story later.

“Oh that's bad news,” he said, but then he gave me the best possible news: “You need to go back to rehearsals I know and we still have another week off so we can look after Reggie if you like?”

I felt like crying with relief. “Oh, could you Frank? That would be wonderful. I was just starting to wonder how I would manage.”

We arrived back in Stratford in about half an hour, as I asked the driver to take it slowly and Dale and Frank met us at the taxi and helped Reggie inside. I paid the taxi driver and gave him a healthy tip. He was very pleased as he left to drive back to Warwick, no doubt hoping to pick up a fare on the way.

Reggie didn't argue when I suggested he go straight to bed and rest. He already looked like he wanted to go to sleep again. Frank offered to go to the pharmacy and get the tablets and even asked if I wanted any shopping bought as well. I put my arms around Frank and Dale and gave them both a big kiss on the cheek.

“It's so wonderful to have you both back,” I said. “You don't know how much I've missed you.”

I gave Frank a small list and included a cooked chicken so that we could all have a nice lunch without having to go to too much trouble. It would be frozen vegetables, but who cared?

Over lunch, I told both the boys what had really happened. I could tell that they were having great difficulty stifling laughter.

“Well, put yourself in my position,” I said indignantly: “I'm in the flat on my own, you are both away and Reggie told me he wouldn't be down until Saturday morning. What was I supposed to think?”

Dale managed to compose himself: “You're right of course Harriet and we'll take that as a warning never to creep into the flat late at night without putting lights on and making plenty of noise.”

Then he and Frank couldn't restrain themselves any longer and both burst out laughing. What could I do? I had to laugh too because when the story was told it all sounded so absurd. The noise woke up Reggie and I heard him calling from the bedroom. It seemed he was hungry, surely a good sign, so I opened a can of chicken soup for him and sat with him while he ate it.

“What did the boys say when you told them the true story of what happened?” he asked.

“They laughed of course,” I replied.

Reggie smiled: “Well it does sound like something you'd read about in a bad novel.”

I sighed. “I suppose you're right, but it didn't seem funny at the time. I thought I had killed you.” At the thought, a tear trickled down my cheek.

“Come here,” said Reggie. I snuggled up to him and he kissed me tenderly on the cheek.

“It's just as well that I have a thick skull,” he said.

“Oh Reggie, I love you so much. I couldn't bear it if I lost you,” I said, and the tears started to flow in earnest.

He soothed me as if I was a little child, stroking my hair with his uninjured arm and this time we kissed on the lips.

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.

Chapter 34   Another opening to another show.

The rest of Saturday, and also Sunday were very low-key days. Reggie was recovering rapidly, but I was determined that he should not drive back to York for a few more days at least. I asked him to stay on until after the opening night of 'Romeo and Juliet', and if he did so I would do my best to get him a ticket. I was so pleased when he agreed. There are some perks to being in the cast of a show; the booking office told me that the performance was sold out but promised to let me know if they had any returns, and thank goodness they came up with one. It's often much easier to come up with a single seat than a pair of them.

On Monday I returned to the theatre after telling Dale and Frank to call me if they were at all worried about Reggie. At the theatre I gave Hannah the 'official version' of Reggie's 'accident' and asked her to keep my mobile phone with her, turned to silent, just in case of an emergency. Towards the end of the week, Reggie visited a local GP for a check-up and was pronounced well on the road to recovery, which was a great relief to me. His bruises were still quite spectacular but gradually resolving.

During the first week of rehearsals, Hannah had informed us all that one of the television production companies was starting a project to make new recordings of all of Shakespeare's plays as presented onstage before a live audience. 'As opposed to a dead one?' I heard someone mutter quietly behind me. I kept a straight face.

Our company had been chosen for the current production of 'Romeo and Juliet' and might be selected for more of the plays since, along with the Globe Theatre in London, Shakespeare was our speciality.

“After discussions with the production company, we've decided that the best time to do the recording will be at one of the previews. A number of cameras will be set up in the auditorium so that a mixture of long shots, mid shots and close-ups can be recorded. We will sell the tickets at a big discount so that we can be sure of filling the theatre, and no-one can complain if there are any delays. However, the intention is to run the play through as if the cameras were not there,” said Hannah. She went on to inform us that we would receive a bonus in lieu of royalties for the recording and hoped that our agents would be in agreement.

There were to be three preview performances with reduced ticket prices so that any little kinks could be ironed out. The recording would take place during the second one, so on that morning when I arrived at the theatre, I saw that there were several large vans parked outside, with a number of thick cables snaking out of one, through the stage door and down to the auditorium. I sneaked a look and saw that technicians were setting up a number of cameras, one at the rear of the stalls, one part-way down each side aisle and a couple actually in the wings. I later saw that there were a few in the circle too. This was quite a production!

Before we had lunch, Hannah called us all together on the stage. There was a young man with her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to Brian Shakespeare, the producer from ABC Productions who will be working with me today.”

There was a murmur from the cast at the sound of his name of course.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen; I am so pleased to be here today. First things first, my wife who is very keen on genealogy has been doing her best to see if I am related to William, but so far without success. However, as you can imagine, it means that from a very early age I was interested in the Bard and it is now my privilege to be involved in this project to produce new recordings of all his plays. When we heard that you had such a stellar cast performing 'Romeo and Juliet'; Harriet Stow and Richard Jenkins in the name parts, Dame Emily Good as the 'Nurse' and Sir John McKenna as 'Friar Lawrence', well it was a no-brainer to approach ISC to participate and so here we are.

“Now some of you have considerable experience in film and television productions, but in this recording we want you to ignore the cameras and perform just as you would normally do for the audience. There might be a slightly longer pause between scenes if we need to reset any of the cameras, but we will only stop if there is a major glitch, in which case we may have to backpedal to a suitable place in the script to restart the recording.”

Having absorbed this information, we all went to our dressing rooms to check that everything was ready to transform ourselves into our characters, and then we dispersed for a light lunch.

Two hours later, we were all made up and in costume, ready for the start of the performance.

Richard decided to tease me by saying “Well, you heard what Brian said, how does it feel to be a star?”

“I think he meant that I was working with stars,” I replied, colouring slightly. I had heard what Brian said of course and was very flattered, but I determined to keep a cool head.

I always liked to stand in the wings at the start of a performance to absorb the atmosphere.
I should mention at this point that in recent years the main theatre in Stratford has undergone a major renovation with a large thrust stage installed. However, at the time of which I write, it was still a conventional theatre with all the action taking place on the stage behind a proscenium arch.

The curtain was down, but the buzz of the audience was clearly audible and to my ears, they sounded more excited than usual. Presumably, the presence of the cameras, and the thought that in some way they were taking part in the recording, had something to do with that. Brian was standing on the stage and then he stepped through the gap in the curtains to face the audience, and we heard the applause.

He introduced himself and there was the usual reaction. Then he told the audience that because of the video recording there was a little bit of 'housekeeping' before the performance started.

“You will recognise some famous faces in the cast, but we ask you not to applaud when they first appear. In fact we ask you to save all your applause until the final curtain of the play.”

This, I'm sure, was aimed at any Americans in the audience where it is common practice to applaud any well-known faces. He went on to mention that except in an emergency, nobody in the audience should stand up and leave the auditorium as this might result in the recording having to be paused if they passed in front of the main camera recording the action and this couldn't be worked around.

“Apart from that, please sit back and enjoy the performance as you normally would. If there are no questions, the performance will start in five minutes,” he concluded.

There were no questions, so he walked through the divide in the curtains again, and 'Chorus' took his position to start the play.

Everything went very well until Act Three Scene One in which Mercutio and Tybald fight a duel. Unfortunately, Mercutio dropped his rapier but quickly stooped and picked it up and they continued with the fight, just as would have happened in a normal performance. Unfortunately, Brian was not happy and called 'Cut' loudly from the wings. Everyone stopped, and Brian and Hannah appeared on the stage and conferred. I could tell from the look on Hannah's face that she wasn't happy. The discussion was about whether the action could be picked up part of the way through the scene, but it was finally decided that for the sake of continuity, the best thing was to start the scene again. This was announced to the audience and after a couple of minutes, so they had time to settle down, the action was started again. This time the scene proceeded faultlessly.

At the conclusion of the play, the applause was prolonged and genuine, concluding with a standing ovation. After the curtain came down for the final time, Brian came on stage and thanked us all for a 'magnificent performance' as he put it. He actually apologised for stopping the action in the fight scene, saying that our production was so good that he didn't want to spoil it by including an obvious error. It seemed Hannah had forgiven him as she was all smiles and kissed him on the cheek.

The production was broadcast and also sold on DVD and all the cast were given a complimentary copy. I still have mine, and from time to time enjoy watching a much younger version of myself acting as 'Juliet'.

At the start of the final week of rehearsals, I was thinking that the Thompsons and Rabinovichs must be arriving in England soon, but I'd heard nothing so far. Then on Tuesday, while at the theatre, I had a message to call Penny Lane. She informed me that both families were in Stratford, and Duncan Morgan had invited me, and also Reggie if he was in Stratford to join him for lunch with his guests on Friday. Normally, Reggie wouldn't have been in Stratford, but thanks to our little 'contretemps', he was still with me. I had bribed him with a ticket to the opening night of 'Romeo and Juliet' and a promise that I would drive with him back to York on Sunday, and then take the train back to Stratford. He thought it was too much for me, but I said that I could sleep on the train so it wasn't a problem.

The booking was at one of Stratford's best restaurants, and it was lovely to see the Thompsons and Rabinovichs again. I noticed that Miriam had her violin with her, and when she saw me looking at the case, she told me that even though she was sure that everyone in England was honest, she didn't want to let it out of her sight!

“England has its share of bad people too, so I think that's a wise move,” I said. “So are you playing for someone while you are here?”

“Yes, both Itzak and I have been to see some of Britain's top teachers in London.”

“Are you thinking of coming over to further your musical education?” I asked.

“It's possible,” replied Miriam. “They did say that we were quite talented.” She coloured slightly when she said that.

“My darling, you are being too modest; they said you were both very talented and should seriously consider careers as musicians,” said Mrs Rabinovich.

“We have to finish school first before we decide what we want to do,” said Itzak. “There are some good music teachers in the States too.”

“I'm sure there are,” I said diplomatically.

“We're really looking forward to seeing you perform on Saturday night,” said Mr Thompson, changing the subject.

I told them about the recording the previous day and both families said they must buy one.

“Of course nothing beats a live performance,” said Duncan.

“Have you had a look around Stratford?” I asked the visitors.

“Oh yes, we've seen Shakespeare's birthplace, the school he attended, visited his grave and the Knott garden at New Place. We also saw Anne Hathaway's cottage. I guess you could say we are typical tourists. What a pity that the minister who bought his house had it knocked down.”

“I believe he was annoyed by visitors wanting to see it. Anyway, it made him very unpopular and he had to leave the town in the end,” I replied.

I should mention that Reggie wasn't left out of the conversation. He was asked about his studies in York, and rather mischievously what it was like being married to a famous actress.

“I've known Harriet since we were children,” he replied. “So I knew what I was taking on when I married her.” That got a laugh of course, even from me. Altogether it was a very nice lunch.

We had one final preview performance on Friday evening, and then it was Saturday. Even though we had already performed at three previews, there is always something special about an opening night. It's almost always a sell-out and most of the audience get dressed up, especially those in the 'A Reserve' seats. There was also a special buzz in the dressing rooms when we learned that there was a member of the royal family and his wife in the 'Royal Box'.

I met Dame Emily after we emerged from our dressing rooms.

“You look lovely my dear, and so young!” she exclaimed. “Maybe not quite fourteen but still just a teenager.”

I laughed, trying to cover up my blush. “I don't think anyone who is really fourteen plays this part, they just wouldn't remember all the lines.”

Like me, Dame Emily liked to stand in the wings at the start of the play to absorb the atmosphere before going onstage. We would both first appear in Scene Three of the First Act. Young Harry Miles who played 'Chorus' was standing beside us, ready to go on and I could tell that he was nervous. It was a small rôle but an important one since it sets the scene for the whole play. I gave his arm a squeeze.

“Break a leg, Harry. I saw you at rehearsal, you'll do well,” I said, and Dame Emily gave him an encouraging smile.

We heard the murmur of the audience quieten and knew that the auditorium lights had dimmed. Hannah, who was standing in the wings opposite us nodded.

“Here goes,” said Harry as the curtain rose and he strode out onto the stage, bowed very low and began to speak:

“Two families both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona where we lay our scene...”

We were off and running.

Besides the Thompsons and Rabinovichs, sitting beside Duncan Morgan and his wife in the front row of the stalls, who I could clearly see from the reflected light off the stage, I knew that Dale and Frank were in the front row of the Circle, and Reggie, unfortunately, had to sit on his own towards the back of the stalls, the only seat I was able to get for him.

I've written previously about 'Romeo and Juliet', so won't bore you with any great detail about the performance except to say that it went very well. Just one thing I'd like to mention; close to the end of the play in the final scene in the Capulet mausoleum when I had the stage to myself except for the body of Romeo lying at my feet and spoke my final lines before stabbing myself with Romeo's dagger, there was total silence in the theatre as if fifteen hundred people were holding their breath. I hardly needed to speak above a whisper, and yet I knew my voice carried to the farthest seat. Then, at the moment of my stabbing, it seemed they all let out their breaths with a sigh. It was a magical moment.

Two minor players drew a white net curtain across the stage in front of us before the other cast members appeared to conclude the play. Richard and I had to keep quite still until the last speech from the Prince:

'A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.'

The curtain came down and the applause burst out like an explosion. We quickly arranged ourselves for the curtain calls. The curtain rose and the cast appeared in order from the wings, the minor parts first and then Sir John McKenna, followed by Dame Emily Good, and finally Richard and I, appearing from opposite sides of the stage and joining hands to advance to the front of the stage. The audience was now on its feet and not just clapping but cheering as well. We bowed and curtseyed to the audience and then turning to each other, Richard bowed and I curtseyed. Then we joined hands with the other major cast members and bowed again as the audience continued to cheer. The curtain fell and rose again about six times until the stagehands, sensing that the applause was starting to wane left the curtain down, the house lights come up and the audience started to make their way out of the theatre.

We had already been told that the Duke and Duchess would be coming down from the royal box to the stage for a 'meet and greet'. I had to hurry down to my dressing room to change out of my blood-stained gown into something more seemly to greet our guests. The dresser was waiting for me and I quickly changed and arrived back onstage just in time.

The royal couple came on stage right and started to make their way along the lined-up cast. When the Duke reached Richard who was standing to my right, he congratulated him on a fine performance and Richard, bless him, said that it helped to have such a talented co-star.

Then it was my turn. Hannah introduced me and I took his offered hand and made a small curtsey, saying “Your Grace.”

“A wonderful performance Miss Stow, most affecting. I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you perform again soon,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” was my response and then he passed on to Dame Emily on my right, whom he had obviously met many times before.

Then it was my turn with the Duchess and another handshake and curtsey.

“That was a wonderful performance, my dear. I confess I was close to tears at the end.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” I replied and thought that was it, but her husband was still chatting with Dame Emily, and now she had a question for me.

" How do you remember all those lines?” she said.

“I've been blessed with a good memory, ma'am,” I replied.

“Well, you certainly make excellent use of it. I've seen 'Romeo and Juliet' many times, but this performance will live long in my memory.”

“Thank you ma'am,” I said, and now Dame Emily was free, so the Duchess moved on.

I should mention that there was a photographer taking pictures of each cast member as they met the Duke and Duchess, so in due course I obtained two pictures to add to my scrapbooks, still being dutifully kept by Emma. I confess I worried sometimes that she might not enjoy this task as it could remind her of the career that she had put on hold to raise a family, but she assured me that she enjoyed doing it. I counted myself very lucky to have such a wonderful sister.

The night was not yet over. Duncan Morgan was holding a small reception for the Thompsons and Rabinovichs in one of the rehearsal rooms behind the stage. He had invited Richard, Dame Emily and Sir John along to meet them, and also Reggie as a courtesy to me. It was something of a tradition for me to have supper with Frank and Dale after a first night, so with some trepidation I asked if they might be invited too. I was relieved that Duncan said they would be most welcome. It wasn't that he was a difficult man to get on with, but it was his party and I wasn't sure if he would mind two extra guests.

In fact, Frank and Dale fitted in very well. Frank, in particular, had a long conversation with Dame Emily and Sir John and told me later that they were such nice people and not in the least - well I hesitate to use the common vulgar expression, so let's just say, not in love with themselves but quite humble about their talent.

Everyone was most complimentary about all our performances. One of the difficult things about acting in a play where everybody in the audience knows what is coming is making them feel emotional as the action unfolds, and truly the final scenes of the play are filled with tragedy. It seemed we had achieved what we set out to do because Dame Emily, followed by the Thompsons and Rabinovichs, embraced Richard and me telling us that it was the best performance of 'Romeo and Juliet' that they had ever seen, and coming from Dame Emily especially, that was some compliment.

Miriam later said to me: “I cried at the end, I couldn't help it. I know it's silly, but It was so sad and I suppose I related to 'Juliet' because she was about my age.”

I smiled at her: "It's not silly at all. Shakespeare was such a great playwright that what he wrote resonates with people nearly four hundred years later."

The room had a piano in the corner, and when Duncan saw Miriam clutching her violin case, he naturally asked if as a special favour, she and Itzak would play something for us. They played a movement of a Beethoven sonata for violin and piano to general acclaim and while I am not an expert, I thought their playing was even better than when I last heard them in America. Miriam later confided to me that they had been playing the violin and piano version of 'The Lark Ascending'. I would love to have heard it but it was too long for an impromptu performance, so they promised to send me a recording as a consolation prize.

It was late when Dale, Frank, Reggie and I returned to the flat and we slept in the next morning before Reggie and I drove back to York. It had been lovely to sleep with him for a week, even if it only happened because of our little drama. I was able to stay the night and make sure that he was settled in with some home cooking to sustain him, and then I took the early Monday morning train back to Stratford.

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.

Chapter 35   The Youth Theatre

At this point, I must reintroduce Madge Browning, Dame Emily's close friend, who was once again her understudy, as the 'Nurse' in 'Romeo and Juliet'. I first met Madge during the ISC production of 'Hamlet' in which I was playing 'Ophelia' and Dame Emily played 'Queen Gertrude' with Madge as her understudy. You may recall that both Dame Emily and Madge simultaneously suffered severe food poisoning during the season and as a result, I took over the rôle of 'Queen Gertrude' for a few performances, while my understudy took over 'Ophelia'. This certainly did my career no harm as everyone seemed quite impressed that I could perform a different rôle at very short notice. Thank goodness for my memory! I'm sure I wasn't the only actress who could have stepped in, in similar circumstances; I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Madge is one member of that incredible stable of British character actors who take part in so many stage, film and television productions that their faces become quite well known to the general public, even if their names are not familiar. Madge was quite content with this as it meant she had a steady income and didn't have the burden of knowing that the production depended on her. Once again she was acting as understudy for Dame Emily and shared a dressing room with her. For most of the season she was quite content to sit there knitting during each performance.

On just one occasion, a matinée, she was asked to perform, as Dame Emily had to return to London on urgent business. Performing when you are an understudy is difficult, especially if you are replacing someone famous whom the audience wishes to see. They feel they are being short-changed and so develop a certain antipathy to the replacement.

This was the first time, apart from rehearsals, that I had performed with Madge and I was very impressed with the standard of her acting. I couldn't help thinking that if she had wanted to, she could probably have starred in some productions, but it seemed she was quite content with what she was doing. At the curtain call, I was pleased to see that the applause for her was prolonged and generous.

One day, Dame Emily told me that she and Madge wanted to have coffee with me and discuss a project they had in mind. I was intrigued, and we arranged to meet the next day that we all had a morning free. Sitting down with these two senior actresses, I wondered what on earth I could do to assist them.

“Harriet, you know that Madge lives in Stratford,” began Dame Emily. Actually I didn't know that; I thought that she might rent a flat like I did previously, or maybe stay in a hotel while she was performing. “This is largely her idea. We were in London a while back and attended a performance by the Youth Theatre group which performs at the Globe Theatre. Madge said to me what a pity it was that we couldn't do something similar in Stratford. I spoke to Duncan and he is very supportive about it.”

“I'm starting to wind down my acting career, so have some free time, and I thought what a great thing it would be if we could form a youth group in Stratford for talented young actors,” said Madge. “We thought that you might be interested in joining us and that's why we asked you to speak with us today. You would be much closer to the age of the students and that would be an advantage. You don't need to answer right away. Why not discuss it with your husband and then let us know what you think?”

I thought it was a great idea but knew that it was only fair that I talk to Reggie first.

“Where would you get the students from? Would you check out the local schools? I know that acting is very attractive to many young people who don't know how much hard work is involved,” I said.

Dame Emily laughed: “Yes, all they see is the red carpets and glamorous gowns, not the unsociable hours and other negative aspects. Of course the stage has one advantage over film and tv; no-one gets you to stand up to your neck in freezing cold water for hours on end while they adjust the lights!”

“Maybe that should be the first thing we get any budding students to do?” I suggested, and we all laughed.

Reggie of course was supportive, as he always is: “All I ask is that you don't overdo things. You're very busy as it is, but I know that's how you like to live,” he said.

I haven't mentioned my singing lessons, which I had resumed now I was back in Stratford. Madame Mussorgsky was very supportive, but I think she wondered what I was going to do with my developing skills. I wasn't sure myself.

The following week, Madge started touring the local schools to assess the interest in the new drama school, and it seemed very positive. She tried to emphasise that its aim was to provide tuition to students that were exceptionally talented and seriously considering a career in theatre, film or television. She also had a small advertisement put in the 'Stratford Herald' which stated that Dame Emily Good, Miss Margaret Browning and Miss Harriet Stow of the Imperial Shakespeare Company were planning to open a Youth Theatre Group in Stratford and would be holding an information session in the main theatre in Stratford the following Saturday morning for young people between the ages of fourteen and twenty, who should bring at least one parent or guardian with them. I wondered how many people would turn up.

I turned up to the theatre on the date advertised and was met by Madge.

“I'm sorry, but Emily has been called to London urgently, so we'll have to manage without her. I'm afraid that the young people will be very disappointed.”

“Will she be back for the performance this evening?” I asked.

“Oh yes. Well if she isn't, I'm afraid you'll just have to put up with me,” she replied.

“That won't be a problem,” I replied, smiling. It seemed strange for me to be boosting the confidence of someone about three times my age. “So how many are arriving?”

“There's at least a hundred already,” she replied. “It seems every young person in Stratford wants to be an actor!”

I was afraid of that. Well it would be my job to persuade them otherwise.

At the appointed hour I walked onto the stage of the theatre and faced the people sitting in the stalls. At a guess there were about two hundred there, including parents and guardians.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen; thank you for coming to this information session today. I would like to introduce you to Miss Margaret Browning, a member of the Imperial Shakespeare Company who is in the cast of the current production of 'Romeo and Juliet'. Please welcome her.”

Madge walked onto the stage to some applause and thanked me for the introduction. I retreated to the wings. Madge welcomed everyone and explained how she and her associates were planning to start a youth theatre group similar to the one at the Globe Theatre In London. She apologised for the absence of Dame Emily but said that the venture had her full support.

“I would now like to introduce you to Harriet Stow, who is currently starring in 'Romeo and Juliet', and she will tell you a little about an actor's life from a younger person's point of view.”

I stepped forward onto the stage and said: “Thank you Miss Browning. I will start by saying that in my opinion, acting is the best career in the world. We may not be rocket scientists or brain surgeons, but what we do brings joy into people's lives, if only for a few hours, and not everyone can say that about their job. In addition, besides getting paid, we get applauded too!

“Many of you are taking part in drama classes at your schools. So what are we offering you that you don't get there? It's the chance to receive tuition from and work with professional actors, people who make their living on the stage or film and television, sometimes all three. It's also the chance that you may be able to perform on stage with these actors, if you are good enough.

“That said, like every job it has its requirements and its ups and downs. To start with, you must be able to speak publicly. I've been to weddings which were ruined for the father of the bride because he was dreading making a speech at the reception. In fact some people would rather have root canal surgery than stand up and give a speech in front of twenty people, most of whom they already know. On this stage you have to stand before up to fifteen hundred people, none of whom you know.”

There was a ripple of laughter at this comment.

“Please don't think I am making fun of these people since we all have our fears. If you made me stand on a small platform one hundred feet in the air, you'd quickly see how much I hate heights.

“Another thing an actor needs is a good memory. The rest of the cast is relying on you to get your lines right, at least most of the time. There is only so much they can do to cover up for the fact that your mind has gone blank. In Romeo and Juliet, the two leads probably have about five hundred lines each, but of course in your first parts you will only have a few lines, so you work up to the larger rôles.

“Next, you have to be able to speak so that someone sitting in the very back row can hear you.” I gestured behind me. “You will see that the scenery behind me is Juliet's balcony and garden, one of the most famous scenes in all of Shakespeare. Every night I stand on that balcony in the moonlight and cry out (and here I switched to my 'acting voice')

'O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.'

They actually clapped me again! I switched back to my normal voice and said: “Thank you. That's just a small sample of what you must do, and don't forget, we don't use microphones. It's reminded me of another reason why we are starting this youth group. Juliet is not quite fourteen, although I don't think anyone who plays her is that young. Nevertheless, it means that there comes a time in the career of every actress when she is too old for certain parts and must hand them over to someone younger.

"Another thing, you must be punctual. I'm sure you've heard stories of famous actors or actresses who were notoriously late. That's a classic way to make yourself unpopular with directors and other cast members and you'll soon find that the work dries up.

“Finally, do you mind applying for jobs? Even the best actors may be applying for a job several times a year – they're called auditions. You may feel you are the best applicant for the job and you may be right, but if the director has his heart set on a particular interpretation which someone else can give him better than you can, then you won't get the part. Sometimes actors go for many months without performing – we call that 'resting', but if you are short of money it can be a real problem.

“Don't get me wrong; I love what I do, but if you have any doubts that you can take the negatives of acting, then consider doing it as an amateur while working at another job. There are plenty of amateur dramatic groups that would love good actors to join them.

“Are there any questions?” I asked. It seems I must have shocked them because nobody spoke.

“Now, if I haven't put you off completely, you can come down to the front of the stalls and sign a form to indicate that you are still interested. There will be some cost involved of course, but we are giving our time for free. We will be in touch to tell you when the first group sessions will take place, and we will do our very best to give you a good introduction to the theatre. You may still want to apply to some of the drama schools in the future, but we hope to give you a head start.”

Everyone applauded me again and then they started to troop down to the front to sign up, well most of them did. A few of the young people were in deep discussion with their parents and left without bothering to sign up. I was glad that by laying it on the line, they had realised that the professional stage probably wasn't for them.

We ended up with forty-eight youngsters signing up. One of the theatre's secretaries kindly typed them up, thanks to Duncan Morgan. Dame Emily arrived at the theatre about six o'clock and was keen to know how it had gone.

“Quite well we think,” said Madge. “A few went home without signing up, but we expected that. We will have the first session in the rehearsal room next Saturday morning and then let them walk on the stage to get an idea of what it feels like. I'm sure some will drop out, but we may get some some stars of the future, who knows?”

“Excellent!” said Dame Emily. “Well, I'd better start getting ready. I managed to sleep on the train which was good. I don't want to nod off during the performance.”

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.

Chapter 36   Working with the youth group and a surprise invitation

The rest of the week flew by. Our performances were rapturously received by our audiences, and we almost always performed to a full house. Many people seemed to think that Richard and I were actually in love and our death scenes not only had the audiences crying, but I shed real tears in those final moments before stabbing myself.

Soo it was Saturday, and the first of the tuition sessions for the new youth group. The head count showed we had lost a few more youngsters who had decided that acting was less about glamour and more about hard work. The theatre auditorium was available, so that is where we held the first session. There were forty-one youngsters seated in the front rows of the stalls, seventeen young men and twenty-four young women, all awaiting our 'pearls of wisdom'.

Dame Emily, Madge and I walked out to centre stage to welcome the group, with Dame Emily speaking first.

“Those who decided not to further pursue their professional acting careers may have made a wise choice. For the next twenty-four Saturdays we will teach you how to act, how to speak, and how to enjoy what you are doing, but I warn you, there will be a lot of hard work. I will now over to Miss Harriet Stow for your introduction to stage acting.”

I thanked Dame Emily, who left the stage and then I addressed our students.

“Acting is making the story real to the audience. Not every play we cover will be by William Shakespeare. In some sessions you will only read a poem, but you must believe in its message and convey that to the audience. That is what acting is all about; you are the conduit from the author of the words to the audience, making them come alive.

“Here is an example; first I will read the lines as it is mostly read in school.”

I started to recite in a 'sing-song' voice, pausing at the end of each line:

'I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.'

“This of course, is the poem “Trees” by the American Joyce Kilmer. It's quite short, only twelve lines, and when you see it printed, it appears as six rhyming couplets, 'see' and 'tree', 'prest' and 'breast' etc. It's often read as if there was a comma at the end of each line, but in fact the first two and the fourth couplets have no comma after the first line, which means they should be read as one continuous sentence. That makes a big difference.

“Now I will read it as if I was performing it onstage.” This I proceeded to do, and they all applauded me at the end.

“Thank you, but there is no need to applaud me since this is a tuition session. Did you all feel the difference? This is what we as actors must bring to each performance every time, no matter how we feel. Never forget that while we may perform a part many times in a season, the audience will only see one performance, so it is important that we make every performance special. Also, did you all notice the difference between my normal speaking voice and my acting voice? This is because our voices must reach the furthest audience member in the back row of the 'gods', which is what we call the upper circle. In addition, stage acting must be exaggerated, so that expressions are visible to people who are sitting quite a long way from the stage. Acting for television or film must be much more natural.

“Are there any questions? Don't be shy, there are no silly questions. You may be the one who asks the question that other people are too shy to ask.”

There was silence, so I said: “Who would like to come up on stage and perform 'Trees'?”

For a moment, no-one reacted and then a young woman in the front row tentatively put up her hand.

“Excellent! What is your name please? I'll learn them all in time but would everyone please start by stating their name?”

“It's Emma, Miss Stow,” said the girl.

“That's a very good name, Emma. Please come up on the stage.”

I could see that she was very nervous, but I gave her full marks for overcoming it enough to be the first to offer to perform. I had a printed copy of 'Trees' ready for her to read, and showed her where to stand on the stage. She was actually not at all bad. She took my advice about not pausing at the end of every line, and put quite a lot of expression into her performance. I led the applause at the end and she blushed scarlet.

“Well done Emma; that's your first performance on this stage and I hope it won't be the last,” I said. “Now can we get a volunteer from among the young gentlemen?”

As I suspected, they were reluctant but not wishing to be outdone by a girl, one eventually put up his hand. His name was Todd and his performance was quite good too. Finally I invited everyone to come up on the stage to see the auditorium from the actors' point of view.

“Now you are facing the audience, which is 'stage left' and which is 'stage right'?” I asked them. Most got it right. “Yes, it's the stage from our point of view, not the audience's. Now which is the prompt side?”

They were less sure on this, so I told them it was 'stage left', and sometimes referred to a 'PS', while the the other side is called 'opposite prompt' or 'OP'. "However, in America the prompt side is often 'stage right', so be sure to check if you ever work over there."

For the final part of the session, I gave them some homework.

“I want you to learn 'Trees' by heart, and next Saturday I will pick some of you at random to recite it.” There was some nervous laughter at this. Dame Emily, Madge and I had decided that we would not be too demanding of them, at least for the start, but we wouldn't spoonfeed them either. They had to realise that they were here to work.

“Are there any questions?”

One of the other young women raised her hand: “Will we be able to perform onstage with the company?” she asked.

“If you are good enough,” I replied. “The sort of parts you could hope to play at first are non-speaking rôles, such as guests in a ball scene. These may seem inconsequencial, but they are important too, in fact every part is important, never forget that. If someone in the background is performing badly, this may distract the audience.

From non-speaking parts, you may graduate to small speaking parts. That's how most of us started off. Right, I think we've done enough for today. We look forward to seeing you at the same time next Saturday.”

The group trooped down the steps to the auditorium to leave the theatre. When I walked off the stage into the wings, Dame Emily and Madge were waiting for me.

“You handled that very well,” said Dame Emily. “I can see that you're a born teacher.”

We all walked to the café to have a light lunch prior to the matinée performance, and to discuss the following week's tuition. We had already worked out a provisional program, but since this was the first group of aspiring young actors to take part in our course, we knew we might have to adjust it as we went along.

“It will take a few weeks before we decide if any of the young people look like they have star potential,” said Dame Emily.

“Yes indeed. It will be interesting to see how they go at memorising the poem and then reciting it. I do give full marks to the two youngsters who were prepared to come up on the stage and recite the poem. I could tell they were very nervous, probably because they were afraid of making a fool of themselves in front of me and the other students.”

The season of 'Romeo and Juliet' was coming to an end. The ticket sales had been so good that it had been extended, but Richard was signed to appear in a film, and it was decided that rather than replace him, the season would close.

We had a small party for the cast and crew after the final performance which was completely sold out. I felt a certain sadness, wondering if this was my final performance as Juliet, but it turned out that I was wrong. Richard, my agent rang me that day and asked me how I felt about another trip to America?

“You know that Americans are huge Shakespeare fans and have a few companies who specialise in his plays, just like the one where you were resident artist. I've been approached by a company who have a Shakespeare Festival which runs for almost the whole year. They perform plays by other authors, but Shakesepare is their number one attraction. Well, you are becoming quite well known in America, and they've just approached me to find out if you might be interested in performing Juliet in their production in a few month's time. The contract they've proposed is quite lucrative. How do you feel about it?”

“Well, I'll have to discuss it with Reggie of course and get back to you. Do you have exact dates yet?” I replied.

“No, but I'll get back to you as soon as I do,” he replied.

I was still continuing my singing lessons with Madame Mussorgsky and she assured me that I was making genuine progress. It was the week before the season of 'Romeo and Juliet' ended, and after the usual warm-up singing scales, Madame said: “Harriet, I'd like you to try a new song today. Are you familiar with the musical 'Camelot'?”

“Yes I am and I enjoyed it very much,” I replied.

“Well, I have the music here for one of 'Queen Guenevere's' songs “I Loved You Once in Silence” Shall we try it out?”

She handed me a copy of the score with the music and words and played the introduction on the piano. I started to sing but I found some of the top notes a little high for me.

“I'll transpose it down for you as you're a mezzo-soprano and we'll try it again,” she said.

This time I found it a lot more comfortable, and at the conclusion, Madame clapped me.

“Very good! You put a lot of emotion into it as I knew you would,” she said. “Now I'm going to tell you why I asked you to sing that particular song. One of my other pupils is a member of the Warwick Theatrical Society. They are an amateur group but their productions are always a very high standard. Jenny told me that they are currently preparing to present 'Camelot' but they have a problem. They rehearse for several months because they can only do it part-time, and the actress who was cast as Queen Guenevere is pregnant, although she didn't know it at the time she auditioned. She's having quite a hard time of it and would like to withdraw from the cast on her doctor's advice. She doesn't want to let the company down as it's now only a month until the season starts. If all else fails she will try to keep going, but it's not a good situation. They don't have understudies and they don't have much time to replace her.

“I know that you are thinking of trying your hand at musical theatre, so when Jenny asked me if I knew of anyone who might be capable of stepping in at short notice, I told her I know someone who might help out, without mentioning your name of course. I said that there was one problem; the person I was thinking of is a professional actress so couldn't be expected to perform for free. She told me she would discuss it with the committee and see how they thought the other cast members would react if only one person was getting paid.

“She called me today and said they were in agreement, but there was a limit to what they could pay. That tells me that they are getting quite desperate. I believe that the standard of your singing is sufficiently good to play the part and there is certainly no doubts about your acting ability. There are only twelve performances spread over three weekends, starting in a month's time. I'm not putting pressure on you, but it struck me that this could be an ideal opportunity for you to ease your way into musical theatre.”

When she finished speaking, I was more than a little shocked. How many times was it now that I had been asked to step in to help out a production? Did this happen to every actor or was it just me? Perhaps others had been asked and refused.

I took a deep breath: “Madame, I was thinking of taking a few months off, but what you say certainly makes sense. I'll have to talk to my husband Reggie, and also my agent Richard. This wouldn't be the first time that I have helped out in a situation where I wasn't paid much. I look upon it as an opportunity to gain experience, so my first inclination is to say 'yes', but I will need a day or two before I can say for sure if I can do it. Of course they will probably want me to audition, and I won't be offended if they do. I'll let you know my answer as soon as I can.”

“Before you make a decision, you might like to see the standard of their productions, so I asked Jenny to borrow a video of last year's production of 'The King and I'. Interestingly, 'The King' is played by Martin Benson who is also playing 'King Arthur' in 'Camelot'. I don't have any more lessons today so would you like to watch some of it? I'll put it on for you while I make a cup of tea if you like?”

I agreed that it would be advisable to watch some of it. While not wanting to seem snobbish, I certainly couldn't be associated with a production if it didn't meet a certain standard, so I sat down in Madame's sitting room while she put the television and tape player on.

I was pleasantly surprised by how good the production was. Martin was a very good actor, and I was impressed by the fact that he didn't try to copy Yul Brynner, who, thanks to his playing the rôle in London and Broadway for many years, plus the 1956 film, is the 'King of Siam' in most people's eyes. Interestingly, King Mongkut wasn't bald, and story of him and Anna Leonowens as depicted in the show is light on fact and heavy on fiction, which doesn't mean that it isn't a very entertaining musical. After watching a number of scenes I decided that I would like to take part in the production.

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.

Chapter 37   Auditioning for a musical

'Punctuality is the politeness of kings', a saying attributed to LouisXVIII, is one of my favourites and I'm sure I've mentioned it before. It's unfortunate that some 'stars' of stage and screen have the attitude that things can't start before they arrive, and that it somehow enhances their importance to keep people waiting. It does nothing for their popularity, but perhaps they don't care.

At fifteen minutes to ten o'clock, I parked 'Bluebird' outside the Lyric Theatre in Warwick. This gave me enough time to check my makeup and walk through the ornate wooden and glass doors of the theatre and into the foyer at five minutes to the hour. A rather fey young man was standing there, obviously waiting for me.

“Miss Stow? I'm Ken Williams, the ASM. It's so good of you to come and see us. I saw you in 'Romeo and Juliet' about a month ago; you were brilliant!”

I smiled. “I started my theatrical career as Assistant Stage Manager. Not everyone appreciates how important a job it is, until something goes wrong.”

He beamed. “You are so right, Miss Stow. This way please, the director, casting director and the WTS president are waiting for you in the auditorium. I can't tell you what a drama it's been since Elspeth got in the family way, poor love.”

Elspeth! That was a familiar name and there couldn't be too many of them. We walked down the aisle and there she was.

“Harriet!” she cried and rushing up to me we embraced. I could distinctly feel her small baby bump.

“Well, you've been a busy girl since we last met,” I said. Elspeth had been my understudy in London a few years previously.

She smiled ruefully: “Yes I have; marriage and now a baby, but my timing wasn't the best.”

“There's never a bad time to bring new life into the world,” I said, and I could see she was tearing up. “Well, I'm here now, and if I can help, I will.”

“I'm sorry, it's the hormones,” she said. “I must introduce you to our director, Stephen Wright.”

“Miss Stow,” he said, shaking my hand. “Your reputation preceeds you. It's so good of you to come along to see if you can help us. May I introduce Basil Fox, the President of WTS, and Marion Hood, our Casting Director?”

I shook Basil's and Marion's hands too. They all seemed slightly in awe of having a real professional actress in their midst.

“I hope I can help, but please note that I'm not a singer who acts, but an actor who sings a bit, so I'm happy to let you hear what I sound like and then you can make up your mind if I will be suitable for your production. I've brought along music for three songs.”

Stephen smiled. “Our 'répétiteur' Marie is here to accompany you if you would like to sing for us when you are ready? As for your acting skills, we are in no doubt about those. ”

I looked up at the stage where a pretty young woman was standing beside the upright piano, and Stephen gave me a hand to walk up the steps.

“Good morning Miss Stow,” Marie said with a charming French accent.

“Call me Harriet, please. I have some music with me. My singing teacher Madame Mussorgsky has transposed some songs as I am a 'mezzo' and find it a bit hard to reach the highest notes.”

“Of course; that is not a problem,” Marie said.

I started off with 'I Loved You Once in Silence' which is sung by Guinevere and Lancelot in 'Camelot', and followed it up with 'If I Loved You' from 'Carousel'. They seemed to go down well; at least they hadn't stopped me after the first song.

“You mentioned three songs?” said Stephen.

“Well, it's not from a musical, it's just an old Irish folk song called 'Wee Hughie', which I've been practising with my music teacher,” I replied.

I nodded to Marie and she started to play the introduction. The song is about a little boy going off to school for the first time and his mother's reaction. Though most people would say it's a song to be sung by a woman, my favourite interpretation is by the peerless Kenneth McKellar. He invests it with so much emotion that I get a lump in my throat every time I hear it. I did my best to interpret it as well as he did. When I finished, much to my surprise, after a moment's silence, applause broke out from all around me as the cast and crew who had been standing in the wings out of my sight, walked onto the stage. I turned around, embarrassed, said 'hello' and thanked them all. I didn't know what else to say, after all, I wasn't yet part of the cast.

I walked over to the piano to thank Marie for her wonderful accompaniment and collect my music. Then I walked down the steps to the the auditorium to speak to Stephen, Marion and Basil. I noticed that Elspeth was still dabbing her eyes. Perhaps it was a tactless song to sing in front of a pregnant woman with her hormones in turmoil.

“Thank you very much. I know you'll want to have a discussion, so I'll wait to hear from you,” I said. As I turned to walk out of the theatre, Stephen called me back.

“One moment, Miss Stow. Would you mind waiting while we have a brief discussion?”

I sat down out of earshot and waited. I suspected they wanted me but were worried that they couldn't afford me. It was for that reason that I had already spoken to Richard, my agent.

“They probably can't pay much, but they will be doing me a favour by allowing me to try out performing in a musical without the pressure of a West End audience,” I said.

“In other words don't tell them 'they can't be serious' when they make their offer?”

“Exactly. Please just tell them you'll get back to them and then ring me,” I said.

Stephen, Marion and Basil called me over. “I'm sure you realise that our funds are limited, but we'd really love you to play Guinevere,” said Basil.

“I'm aware of your financial situation,” I replied. “But as I'm a professional, it's necessary for you to make an offer through my agent. Here is his card. The final decision on whether I accept or not is up to me. In the meantime, would you have a copy of the book and score please?”

I was effectively telling them that they could count on my acceptance without actually saying so, and I think they got the message.

“Yes, Elspeth has offered her book which already has Guinevere's lines highlighted. Here are the scores of the songs too.”

Wth that I bade them 'au revoir' and left the theatre.

I had driven halfway back to Stratford when my phone rang. I pulled over into a handy layby and answered it. It was Richard, my agent.

“Hi Harriet, you were right about the offer from Warwick, but I was very polite and said I'd get back to them.”

The offer was tiny compared to what I was now earning, but I told him that they were giving me the chance to see how much I enjoyed performing in a musical, so that was a bonus and I wished to accept the offer.

“I'm happy for you to take a twenty percent commission on this one,” I said and Richard laughed.

“No, that's fine. You know that I'm trying to make you a millionairess, don't you? It's not going to happen if you insist on signing contracts like this.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “You know that some top lawyers do 'pro bono' work don't you? Well this is a similar thing.”

He sighed audibly and theatrically. “Alright, but just allow me to do one thing. Let me insist that they keep the terms of the contract confidential. If anyone hears about it, they'll think your career has hit the skids and you are prepared to work for peanuts.”

I saw the sense in what he was saying and agreed.

“Now I'd better get back to Stratford, since I've still got a few performances as 'Juliet' to go. Please tell them I'll ring them and check on rehearsal times starting next week.”

It was the last week of the season of 'Romeo and Juliet'. I knew it was probably the last time I would play the part in Britain as I was getting too old, but I had a season in America to look forward to.

One day I was having a coffee with Dame Emily in the café and she asked what I was doing next. I told her about agreeing to play in a musical, wondering how she would react.

“Well that's marvelous my dear. It's good to spread your wings a bit.”

“You actually inspired me to try something different, Dame Emily. I suspect that Shakespeare is your first love like he is mine, but you have tackled a variety of rôles with such great success.”

“But never a musical,” she laughed. “I would give Florence Foster Jenkins a run for her money.” Here she referred to the famous American socialite whose enthusiasm for public performances was not matched by her singing ability.

“I have been taking singing lessons, and Madame Mussorgsky assures me that I will not make a fool of myself, so this seemed a good opportunity to see how I enjoy playing in a musical.”

“It's a good idea,” Dame Emily responded. She looked hard at me. “Is something bothering you my dear?”

“I'm just a bit concerned about being away from Reggie too much,” I hesitated. “May I ask how you coped?” I was a bit worried about referring to her late husband.

Dame Emily smiled. “It's alright Harriet, I've been a widow for some time now. It all depends on trust.”

“Reggie and I do trust each other, but it must be a bit hard on a man being married to a woman who, as part of her job description, has to kiss other men on a regular basis.”

“I don't think you have anything to worry about my dear; Reggie knows it's only play-acting.”

It was the final performance of the season on Saturday evening. The theatre was completely sold out, and at the conclusion the audience gave us so many curtain calls that I lost count. As was their custom, the management put on a reception with drinks and finger food, after the audience finally left. Duncan Morgan gave a speech in which he made particular mention of my performance and said he was sad that I had outgrown the part, only in age, not in talent. He also mentioned that Stratford's loss was America's gain, since I would soon be travelling across the Atlantic to take part in one of America's famous Shakespearean festivals.

Then Dame Emily made a speech in which she said that she had thoroughly enjoyed playing the part of Juliet's nurse and that she and other actors of her generation were so pleased to see the baton passed to the next one. She added that one of the advantages of Shakespeare was that actors could play different rôles from quite a young age until they were old performers like herself. This prompted cries of “No, no!”, “You've got many years of performing to go”, etc.

Richard had his turn, saying how much he had enjoyed playing 'Romeo' again with such a distinguished cast and that it might be the last time for him since he was getting older too.

It seemed only right that I should make a little speech myself, saying how much we of the younger generation gained from being onstage with actors of Dame Emily's calibre, and this prompted her to say that she had forgotten to mention that I was working in the new Youth Theatre project along with her and Madge in order to encourage the next generation of actors.

There was much cheering and applause, perhaps encouraged by the liquid refreshment. It was a wonderful conclusion to a very successful season.

I had already checked with Stephen Wright when rehearsals would be held. Since the rest of the cast were non-professionals and most had full-time jobs, the rehearsals in the week were held on Tuesday and Thursday evenings and Saturday afternoons and evenings. I was pleased about this as I was anxious to spend some time with Reggie in York.

The next morning was Sunday, and I packed my usual small suitcase and drove in 'Bluebird' to York. As soon as I was in Reggie's arms I knew that all my fears were groundless. We were as much in love as ever. If there was a positive side to being separated, it was that when we came together again, it was like another honeymoon. I arrived in York about lunchtime but it was late afternoon before we finally got out of bed and shared a shower.

Reggie wanted to know all about the musical, so I explained how it had come about that I was acting with an amateur group.

“They are very lucky to have you,” said Reggie. “If they're smart, they'll learn a lot from having a professional act with them.”

“I expect to learn from them too. After all, they've staged a lot of musicals, and it will be my first one.”

“I suppose you know the part already?” said Reggie.

“Well I've had a few days to study it, so yes, I know it. Madame Mussorgsky recorded the piano accompaniment for my songs – I”ve got five altogether, so I can play them and practise before the rehearsals start. I'll have to go back to Warwick on Tuesday.”

“That means we have two nights together, so we'll make the most of them,” said Reggie with a twinkle in his eye. “Have you met any of the cast yet?”

“Not yet, but I've seen them perform 'The King and I” on a video and they did it very well. The young chap who played the King will be 'Lancelot' in this production. He seems very competent.”

The following day, we drove to Bridchester as it had been a while since I'd seen my sister, David and the children. We had been invited to lunch and had a wonderful day.

“I was surprised when I heard you were going to be in a musical,” said Emma.

“Well that shows that I've been getting a bit 'type-cast'. I don't think a break from Shakespeare will do me any harm. Taking part in an amateur production will be a great introduction and I'll get an idea of how good I am at singing.”

“I think it's a very smart move,” said David. “It's a bit like a golf 'pro-am'. The cast are going to learn from you too, so it's a 'win-win' situation.”

“That's exactly how I see it,” I said.

While I tried not to play favourites with the children, inevitably my eyes were drawn to my stepdaughter Stella. She was growing rapidly and was the prettiest little girl you could imagine. The issue of what to do about her was still unresolved. She was very comfortable as part of Emma and David's family and Reggie and I certainly couldn't take her away from such a stable environment.

I quite enjoyed my 'dual personality'. While in Stratford I was 'Miss Harriet Stow', increasingly well-known actress, but in York I was 'Mrs Reginald Staunton', housewife.
Before I returned to Stratford, I devoted Monday and part of Tuesday while Reggie was at the university, to cooking and freezing a number of meals for him while I was away. I really enjoyed cooking, and we had bought quite a large freezer in order to accommodate my culinary efforts, which he assured me he really enjoyed. Some people might say it was a strange sort of marriage, but it worked for us.

About lunchtime Tuesday, I packed my suitcase and loaded up 'Bluebird' ready to drive to Warwick for my first rehearsal of 'Camelot'. I was confident that I knew the script and I had practised the songs many times, now all that remained was to bring it together with the rest of the cast. As I drove south I couldn't help feeling like the 'new girl at school'. Eveyone there knew each other and no-one knew me unless they had seen me perform. I hoped that we would all soon get on good terms with each other.

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. Anyone interesting in hearing Kenneth McKellar's recording of 'Wee Hughie' can find it on Youtube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hnsoPvt5TAU If you're like me, you'll keep the tissues handy.

Chapter 38   Camelot

I arrived in Warwick three hours before the start of the rehearsal and parked 'Bluebird' outside a café close to the theatre. I hadn't eaten since I had a cup of tea and a biscuit mid-morning and I was famished. I'm one of those people many women hate – I can eat what I like and don't put on any weight! I think it's something to do with my metabolism.

I chose a table and looked at the menu. The waitress, a very pretty young woman walked up to take my order and instead stood staring at me.

“Excuse me, are you Miss Harriet Stow who's going to play 'Guinevere' in 'Camelot'?” she asked. I assured her that I was.

“It's so nice to meet you. I'm playing one of your 'ladies in waiting' in the show. It's my first part on stage in a proper theatre and I've only got two lines but I'm a bit nervous,” she said. “Can you give me any tips please?”

I smiled. “When I first started out, an old actor said I had to remember three things; 'be on time, know my lines and don't bump into the scenery'. It was a joke of course although there's some truth in it. To that I would add that when you're onstage, it doesn't matter how small a part you have, you have to be acting and reacting all the time because the audience will be aware of you even if they're focussing on someone else. If you do it well, then the director will notice too, and you'll go on to get bigger parts.”

She smiled. “Thank you so much; I'll remember that.” She paused: “Oh I'm sorry, you're here to eat and I'm taking up your time.”

“That's alright. I look forward to working with you. By the way, you haven't told me your name.”

“It's Mary Rose,” she said.

“That's a very pretty name. Well, Mary Rose, I'll have a meat pie, chips and peas, with jam roly-poly and custard for 'afters'. I hate acting on an empty stomach. I'm always worried that people in the front row will hear it rumbling.”

She smiled and went off to order my meal from the kitchen.

It was simple food but well cooked and as I departed, leaving a generous tip, I waved to Mary Rose and said “See you this evening'.

I had arranged to meet Stephen the director, at six o'clock in the theatre, ninety minutes before the rehearsal started, so that we could block out my moves in each of the scenes I was in, and there were quite a few of them.

“How are you going with the part?” he asked, a delicate way of asking if I knew my lines yet.

“I think I should be alright,” I replied. “But I've brought the book just in case.” Of course, I was sure I knew the part but I didn't want to sound over-confident, just in case I did have a 'dry', then I'd look foolish.

We proceeded to block out my movements and those of others onstage and I made notes about each scene. We just finished before the cast arrived for rehearsals to start at seven-thirty. They all assembled on the stage and Stephen introduced me.

“Everyone, I'd like to introduce Harriet Stow from Stratford who has kindly agreed to step in for Elspeth, who, as you know is not feeling too well at present. I'd like you all to make her welcome.”

There was a smattering of applause and Stephen asked if I would like to say something.

“Good evening everyone. I'm very happy to be here. I'm sure you are all aware that I'm a professional actress, but that doesn't mean that I know everything, far from it. This will be my first experience of acting in a musical, so I'm looking forward to learning from all of you who have plenty of experience in this area of theatre. I've seen a video of your production of 'The King and I” and I'm very impressed with the standard, especially taking into account that most of you have jobs and are only doing theatre part-time. Anyway, enough of me making a speech; we're eating into valuable rehearsal time, so I'll hand you back to Stephen.”

Stephen took over and announced the first scene to be rehearsed, the one where as 'Guinevere' I arrive at Camelot and meet Arthur. Playing 'King Arthur' was Gareth Thomas. With a name like that, I'm sure you've guessed that he was Welsh and naturally enough a very good singer. The original King Arthur, if indeed he existed, could easily have been Welsh as no-one knows exactly where he came from, and there is a suggestion that Cornwall was once part of Wales.

We ran through the scene which includes three songs, two by Arthur, 'I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight', followed by my 'Simple Joys of Maidenhood', and then after we meet, Arthur sings 'Camelot'. We skipped the last part of the scene where the water nymph Nimue sings 'Follow Me' to Merlin. I thought it went well for a first run through. Afterwards, Stephen came up on the stage and made a few minor suggestions which I committed to memory, and then we went through it again, this time completing the scene.

I was impressed with John Hawkins who played 'Merlin', and also with Sue Berryman who played 'Nimue'. She had a lovely soprano voice. I wondered why she hadn't been offered 'Guinevere'.

At the conclusion of the rehearsal, I congratulated her. “You would sing Guinevere's songs better than I can,” I said.

Sue laughed: “This is actually my first time onstage with Warwick. My normal rôle in the company is vocal coach and assistant to the musical director. We were going to look for someone to play 'Nimue' but since it's such a short part, just one song and knowing I'm a singer, Stephen said why didn't I do it? So here I am, but I would never tackle a part like 'Guinevere' since I'm not an actor. You are doing it amazingly well for a first rehearsal.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Each to his or her own, I suppose. When you sing in costume with the scenery and lighting, I know it's going to be a magical moment. I'd appreciate any advice you can give me on the songs I have to sing. I'm still a novice in that area.”

“Sure, I'd be happy to do that,” said Sue. In the following weeks she took me through all my songs and as a result, I'm sure I sang them much better than I would otherwise have done. She told me that I had an unique voice with more power than that of most woman, but she put that down to my acting career. I did wonder if she suspected my past was a little unconventional, but she said nothing, and anyway, the theatre is a great place to work if you don't quite fit the standard image.

Then we went on with the next scene which takes place five years later, where Arthur has the idea of the round table. The following scene is where Guinevere meets Lancelot. I noticed that Martin Benson, who played 'Lancelot' had not been present at the start of the rehearsal and must have sneaked in late. He was a very handsome young man and I instantly decided that he was rather full of himself, so a great choice for Lancelot!. That said, he was a good actor, and our first scene together went well. Most people know the story of how Guinevere takes an instant dislike to Lancelot but eventually falls in love with him, and he with her. It's a rather clichéd storyline, but after all, it is a fantasy. That sort of thing doesn't happen in real life.

The time flew by and soon it was time to finish for the evening. We all bade each other 'good night', and I drove down to Stratford in 'Bluebird'. Dale and Frank were pleased to see me.

“How did the rehearsal go?” said Frank.

“Very well for a first run-through. I wondered how I'd feel being the 'new girl', but they are all very friendly despite me being the only one of the cast being paid. I was worried that that might lead to bad feeling.”

“I'm sure they realised that their production would have been in trouble if you or someone like you hadn't taken over the part of 'Guinevere',” said Frank. “I'm betting you know all the lines already, and another amateur actor probably wouldn't.”

“Well, yes I do know the lines, of course,” I replied. “You know me and my memory.”

Dale said: “I'm a bit worried about you driving around on your own at night. Frank or I would be happy to drive you to Warwick for the rehearsals and performances if you like.”

“I do have my mobile phone, but if you really want to, and it doesn't cause you too much inconvenience, then I will accept and thank you very much,” I replied, knowing that Reggie would feel happier if I had one of the boys with me. I felt bad about them having to wait around for three hours until the rehearsal finished, but they insisted that they were happy to do it, especially Frank who is mad about theatre and would be happy sitting in the stalls watching us rehearse. I have suggested to him that he might like to try acting himself, but he insists he'd be too nervous.

I had told Stephen that I'd like my presence in the production to be low-key, but somehow the news got out, and the following week when I turned up for rehearsal, Stephen said: “I suppose I'd better show you this,” and he handed me a copy of the 'Warwick Gazette'.

The headline said “SHAKESPEAREAN ACTRESS TO STAR IN 'CAMELOT'”
'Imperial Shakespeare Company rising star Harriet Stow has taken over the rôle of 'Queen Guinevere' in the Warwick Theatrical Society's production of the musical 'Camelot' after the original actress had to withdraw through illness. Harriet, who has just been starring in the ISC production of 'Romeo and Juliet', had expressed an interest in expanding her repertoire.
This will be the first time that a professional actress has performed with the amateur theatrical company and they are looking forward to working together and learning from each other.'

The article was accompanied by a picture of me performing in 'Romeo and Juliet'.

“Oh dear, bang goes my 'low-key' approach,” I said. “I hope Elspeth is not upset about the article. I wouldn't call pregnancy an 'illness'.”

“Well, since the news broke there has been a huge increase in ticket enquiries,” said Stephen. “Every cloud has a silver lining, at least for us, but I can assure you that nobody I know spread the news.”

“I suppose with so many people in the company, it was almost inevitable that the news has leaked, even unintentionally. It puts a little extra pressure on me, but I'm sure I can cope with it,” I said.

Rehearsals continued and everything seemed to be going well. I was pleased that Mary Rose, as one of my ladies in waiting performed her part well, and I could see her moving on to bigger things. Meanwhile, Sue regularly took me through my songs and made some helpful suggestions which I felt really improved them.

“I know you are a bit worried about your singing voice, but you mustn't be,” she said. “You have a very good voice and with all your acting experience you certainly have your breathing under control. Do you remember Richard Burton in the original production of 'Camelot'? He did a 'Rex Harrison' and more or less spoke the words but everyone was happy with his performances. You have a very good voice and you do sing the songs, as well as being a fine actress, so I'm sure the audience will love your perfomances.”

I was very happy to receive her assurances. Of course, actors and actresses have to have self-confidence or we couldn't do what we do, but we are human as well!

One evening after the rehearsal had finished, Stephen asked if I could stay back for a chat.

“How do you think it's going?” he asked, obviously wanting a professional's viewpoint.

“Very well, I think. Everyone seems to be working really hard.”

“We can thank you for that. It's the first time they've performed with a professional actor and it's been an eye-opener to them how much you concentrate on getting things right. They've really lifted their game to try and match you. I wish we could afford to get a professional to take part in every production, but I don't think we'd find someone else who was willing to be so generous in their contract.”

I smiled: “Well sometimes actors go for months 'resting' and they might be willing to take a smaller contract just to get some income. I've been fortunate in working regularly, but I'll never take that for granted. Anyway, I'm learning so much from you and the company that I almost think I should be paying you, not the other way around.”

There was only one thing that bothered me about the production and it wasn't something I felt I could share with Stephen. I had noticed that Martin was always surrounded by the younger female members of the cast. 'Like moths to a flame' I thought to myself. I strongly suspected that he was the type of young man who picked a young woman, flattered her until he got what he wanted and then dumped her. I was concerned that this might affect the production. His latest conquest was Mary Rose. I saw the way she looked at him and I knew that there was no future in it. Should I say something to her or not? I wasn't sure. Maybe she would think that I was jealous and wanted him for myself. When a woman thinks that about another woman there is no way of convincing her that she is wrong.

It was good that early on, I had obtained some excellent Opening Night seats for Reggie, Dale and Frank as I was informed that it had now sold out.

“That's a first for us,” said Stephen. He was diplomatic enough not to say that it was largely due to my presence, but I was sure that was what he was thinking. So no pressure! Then he continued: “I had a call today from someone representing a couple of local schools, enquiring if we had seats for several hundred students to see the show, and I regretfully had to tell him I couldn't oblige.”

I suddenly had one of my 'bright ideas'.

“Stephen, we're having two full dress rehearsals, what if we made the second one a preview show and sold tickets at a reduced price?”

He beamed; “Now why didn't I think of that?”

“Well, it's a common practice in professional theatre now. It helps the cast to have an audience prior to opening night so that they can adjust their performance to audience reaction, and of course, it does bring in more money. Maybe it's not done in amateur productions?”

“It would be a first for us. I'll have to run it past Basil of course and then speak to the cast and crew, but I think we might just get a positive reaction.”

And that is what happened. Stephen very kindly acknowledged the idea as mine and also said how it would help the cast when the audience reacted such as laughing or applause. Everyone was in favour of change and the big bonus was the additional income from an extra performance, even though the tickets were sold at a reduced price. It turned out to be another sell-out show.

There's something about being in full costume and makeup, with the scenery and lighting, that makes the performance go up a notch. We had now graduated from a piano to a twenty-piece orchestra, all amateur but very fine musicians. Permission had been obtained to make an archive video recording for the company's records and also so that the cast could see themselves as the audience would. We were promised a viewing after the season was over. When I watch myself performing, I can always see things which I could have done better, so I was happy not to see the recording yet.

The day of the first dress rehearsal, I was standing in the wings with Mary and my other 'ladies in waiting', waiting to make my entrance. Harry Mulligan who was playing 'Merlin' was standing beside me, unrecognisable in his flowing robes, long hair, and beard, and Sue was dressed in a shimmering green gown as 'Nimue'. I was dressed in a gorgeous multi-coloured gown as befits a woman about to become the queen at Camelot.

Gareth Thomas as 'King Arthur' was already on-stage in his russet and green doublet and hose singing. Soon it was my cue to walk on-stage with my attendants.

The performance went well and Stephen was very pleased. I was glad for him as I knew he felt he was taking a risk converting the second dress rehearsal into a preview performance.

A few days later we were standing in the wings again, but this time we could hear the loud buzz of a capacity audience beyond the curtains. Sue was standing next to me

“I don't know how you can be so calm,” she said. “I'm shaking.”

“I'm calm because I know what I'm doing, just as you do,” I said, squeezing her hand. “You'll be fine.” And of course, she was.

It's different performing in front of an audience. The players feed off their energy and response to what is happening on-stage. This audience consisted mainly of young people and we could tell that they were really enjoying the show. At the conclusion, there was generous applause and four curtain calls.

Stephen called us all together after the performance and congratulated us on how it had gone: “I've never seen you perform so well. You're all stars!” he said.

After that, I went back to the flat for a good night's sleep.

The first performance was on a Saturday night. Reggie was driving down from York and Frank and Dale were driving me to the theatre as I had stayed in Stratford overnight after the preview performance. I arrived early at the theatre to dress in my first costume and do my makeup, while they went off to have a meal. At Stephen's insistence, I had been allocated a dressing room on my own. The rest of the cast were having their makeup applied by a specialist artist, but as a professional, I was used to applying my own, and it had passed muster at the dress rehearsals. Then I had a coffee and some sandwiches as was my routine before a performance.

I was sitting there relaxing when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” I said.

The door opened. It was Mary and she looked terrible. I could see she had been crying, and my heart sank.

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.

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.

Chapter 40   Of mice and men

“The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley” Robert Burns 1785

Life seemed to be going so well. You could say I was 'living a dream'. Just as 'Camelot' finished, I had a phone call from my agent Richard.

“I've got another opportunity for you to earn some real money,” he started off.”How would you feel about a trip to Australia?”

“Where in Australia?” I replied. “It's a big country.”

“Melbourne as it happens,” he replied. “A group called 'The Chimes Theatrical Group' that specialises in Shakespeare is planning to perform three of his plays in repertory, 'Romeo and Juliet', 'Henry V' and 'The Taming of the Shrew'. They are particularly interested in having you play 'Juliet', 'Katherine' in 'The Taming', and possibly 'Princess Katherine de Valois' in 'Henry V'. The season runs for a month and starts in six month's time.”

“Interesting name, like the 'chimes at midnight'? I mused. "Most appropriate for 'Henry V', though it's really from 'Henry IV Part Two'.”

Richard said: ”Have you memorised every play Shakespeare wrote?”

I laughed. “Just about. Did they say which theatre?”

“Yes, it's the Princess Theatre; it seats about fifteen hundred people. You've performed there haven't you?”

“Oh yes!” I replied. “I've even seen their famous ghost.”

Richard laughed: “What is it about theatres, actors and ghosts? Almost every old theatre has at least one. I wouldn't go telling people outside the theatre scene that you saw one; they might think you are a bit quirky.”

I laughed too. I decided not to tell Richard that I'd had quite a close encounter with another theatre ghost in London. What I did tell him was that I was interested in the proposal. The thought of playing three parts, although 'Katherine de Valois' is quite a small one, didn't bother me at all. It seemed that I was starting to get a name for myself outside of England.

“I'll do some negotiations and let you know how I go,” said Richard.

I returned to York for my break before heading off to America. It was lovely to be 'Mrs Staunton' for a change. I really missed Reggie while I was performing at Stratford, although I knew as well as he did that if I stayed away from the stage too long, I would inevitably start to miss it.

While I was gone, I suggested to Dame Emily and Madge that we could do worse than ask Sue Berryman to give tuition in singing on stage to our youth theatre group. Of course, we would have to pay her, but both ladies were very receptive to the idea, and I'm glad to say that Sue was happy to join our small band of tutors. We were also looking for other suitable people to help out since our commitments meant that Dame Emily and I were not always available. A few more of the youngsters had dropped out but we didn't mind as it meant that those remaining were really committed to working towards a theatrical career, and realised that it wasn't all glamorous gowns and red carpets.

Back at York, after a few days sorting out our flat (Reggie was very good for a man but any home needs a woman's touch) I had a phone call from my sister Emma asking if I would come over for lunch. We have always been very close and I could tell from her voice that something was worrying her. However I decided that it would be better if we discussed it face to face, so the next day I drove to Bridchester.

It hadn't been that long since I last saw the children, but they were certainly all springing up. Penny was at school, but Elizabeth and Stella were thrilled to see 'Aunty Harriet'. I did notice that Thomas seemed a bit subdued and I thought he looked rather pale. Before we sat down to lunch, I asked Emma what was bothering her.

“It's Thomas. He's been a bit off-colour and not eating like he usually does. I felt some swellings in his neck which I thought was lymph nodes, soI took him to the doctor yesterday. She checked him over and said it could well be a viral infection, but she'd like to do a blood test just to be sure. Poor little chap, he was very brave when the needle went into his arm and she gave him a sticker because he hadn't cried.”

“When do you get the results?” I asked.

“Sometime today,” said Emma. “Anyway, I've got to stop worrying. Let's start lunch.”

We had almost finished our lunch, and I was pleased to see that the children were now managing their own food a lot better, even though Thomas only picked at his, which was unusual. Then the telephone rang. Emma went to answer it, and when she came back into the room I could tell it wasn't good news.

“That was Dr Henry. She told me she had the blood test results but she wouldn't tell me what they are. She just asked if I could take Thomas back to see her right away, and that I should ask David to meet us there if he possibly could. Oh Harriet, now I'm really worried. Could you possibly look after the other children while I take Thomas back to the clinic?”

“Of course,” I replied. I was worried too. It sounded like Thomas might have something seriously wrong with him than a virus.

Emma rang David who was taking a rehearsal for a new play. She had their car, so drove down to the theatre to pick him up before going on to see the doctor. While they were gone, I entertained the children by reading them a story, which they loved, because as they said 'I made up all the funny voices'. Then we played with their dolls' house until Penny came home from school and asked where mum and dad were, so I told her about them taking Thomas to the doctor.

The moment Emma walked through the door, my heart sank. I could tell she had been crying, and David looked grim. Penny sensed there was something wrong and asked what it was.

“Penny darling, I'll tell you soon, but would you look after the children for a minute while your dad and I talk to Aunty Harriet,” said Emma. We walked into the dining room and all sat down.

“Dr Henry got the results of Thomas's blood test,” said Emma, trying not to cry. “It seems he's probably got leukaemia – acute lympho-something.” She looked up at David.

“Probably acute lymphoblastic leukaemia, it's the most common type in children, but he'll need another test to confirm it,” said David in a tight voice. I sat there stunned. My heart felt like it had just been stabbed with a shard of ice.

Finally I found my voice: “But there is treatment?” I asked.

“Oh yes, chemotherapy and possibly a bone marrow transplant,” said Emma, and now tears were rolling down her cheeks. She reached out and grasped David's hand. “The poor little chap will really have to go through the mill, but there's a good chance of a cure.” I could tell she was clutching at that hope.

'A good chance,' I thought, 'So not one hundred percent.' but I didn't say it of course.

“I hate to ask you, Harriet,” said David. “But we have an appointment to see a specialist in the hospital at York tomorrow. Could you possibly come over again and look after the children?”

“Of course,” I replied. “Anything I can possibly do, just tell me and I'll do it.”

The day had started off sunny, but it had clouded over in the afternoon, and by the time I headed back to York, the rain was bucketing down. This, together with thoughts about Thomas whirling about my head and distracting me, meant that I nearly ran into the back of a lorry that had suddenly slowed down in front of me. With my heart beating wildly, I drove on much more cautiously. If I'd ended up in hospital, that would have made a bad situation worse.

When Reggie arrived home I told him all about Thomas and he was as shocked as I had been. He too asked about treatment. By then I had done a computer search about leukaemia and discovered that the acute forms were more common in children and whereas some years back, leukaemia was a death sentence, now there was a good chance of recovery with suitable treatment. This made me think of another problem.

“Reggie, we know that Emma and David live off a tight budget. He has a regular job as Director at the Apollo Players but I don't think he's paid a lot, and it's lucky that Emma is a very good housekeeper. Even if they get Thomas's treatment on the National Health, there will be expenses they hadn't budgeted for and this is going to cost them money. I'd like to help them but I don't want to upset David by making him think he's having to rely on the charity of others even though I'm part of the family. How do you think I should handle it?”

“I understand what you are saying Harriet,” said Reggie. “We men like to think that as the head of the household we should be able to manage everything. We feel it's demeaning to have to rely on someone else to pay the bills,” He smiled. “It's just as well that I'm not like most men since you've been keeping us both while I'm at university, but I hope that will end when I get a job. But, how about this? You've often told me that it was due to David, and Emma of course, that you started performing in the theatre. Perhaps you could say that this is your way of paying them back for giving you the start which has led you to being where you are today?”

“That's a great idea, darling,” I replied. “Anyway, I could never forgive myself if Thomas had a worse outcome because I didn't do everything in my power to help him get better. Perhaps I should speak to Emma about it first?”

“I think that's a good idea,” said Reggie.

I was up early the next morning to drive back to Bridchester to look after the young children. Penny had already gone to school when I arrived and I asked Emma if they had told her about Thomas's illness.

“Yes, we had to, but we downplayed the seriousness of it as much as we could, so she just thinks it's a case of him having some treatment and then he'll be well again,” said Emma. She looked a bit better than she had the previous day, and I was glad to see that. She made us all a cup of coffee before they left for York and I decided that now was as good a time as any to discuss the question of money. I realised it was probably better to talk to them both at the same time, so I took a deep breath.

“Emma, David, there's something I need to talk to you about. Do you remember how you were both responsible for me getting a job in the theatre, first as ASM and then acting? I've always felt that I owe you so much for me being in the position that I'm in today, and I've never really repayed you. Well now, maybe I can. I'm on quite a good wage at Stratford...” I paused, this was more difficult than I thought. Emma managed a smile and reached out and took my hand.

“Are you saying you want to help us financially with Thomas's treatment?” she said gently.

“Well, yes. It can't be easy bringing up four children on one wage. I know we help out a bit with Stella, but children have lots of expenses,” I said. I knew I was blushing hotly and felt I was making a hash of this. Then David spoke.

“I know I speak for Emma, and indeed the whole family when I say I'm not too proud to accept help in the current situation; after all you are family,” he said quietly. “We'll make it a loan and then we can pay you back one day.”

I felt so relieved that they had made it easy for me. “Thank you, David. I really didn't know how to do this, but I wanted to take a bit of the stress off you, and goodness knows you'll have enough without worrying about money. There's just one thing, I don't want to pay the bills directly, that's for you to do, so just let me transfer funds into your bank account as necessary, please.”

Emma got up and coming over gave me a hug: “Harriet, we are so grateful, we really are.” She was followed by David who also hugged me. I could see a glint of a tear in his eye. Fortunately, before I started crying, Emma said that it was time for them to drive to York. I smiled at Thomas who had no idea what was going on. I just hoped he didn't find the treatment too traumatic, but I knew that there was a hard road ahead from him, and indeed the whole family.

As they got into the car and we waved them goodbye, Elizabeth and Stella wanted to know why they weren't going too.

“Mummy and Daddy are taking Thomas to see a doctor,” I said. We had agreed that we shouldn't make up stories but tell them the truth but in a very simple way. I felt it was going to be a long day for me, but then I had the easy part, I just had to keep the two youngsters entertained.

A couple of hours passed and then David rang me: “Dr Butcher is a really nice woman. She has the blood test results but says that Thomas needs a bone marrow test to confirm that he has leukaemia and if so, how serious it is. The sooner that happens the sooner he can start treatment and she is able to do it today. I'm ringing you because he'll need heavy sedation and we'll have to wait until he is fully awake again and given the all-clear to go home. We might be back quite late. Are you able to stay there until we get back?”

“Of course I can,” I replied. “I'm really glad to hear that they are able to start his treatment so quickly. Please ring me when you are leaving York and I'll have tea ready for you.”

I didn't have suitable belts in my car to take Elizabeth and Stella out, so I waited until Penny came home from school. She was a very responsible young lady, so I asked her to look after the two youngsters for a short time while I drove down to my favourite French bakery in Bridchester. It had been a few years since I last went there, but I was pleased to see that they were still as popular as ever.

“Bon jour, madame. Comment ça va?” I said to Madame Bellerose who was standing behind the counter.

“Mam'selle Harriet! How nice to see you,” she said in that wonderful French accent which she'd never lost despite living many years in England. “Your sister tells me you are doing very well acting in Stratford.”

I blushed: “I'm one of those lucky people who gets paid for doing what they love,” I said with a smile. “It's a pity that I don't get a chance to visit Bridchester more often, but I see you are looking very well.”

She laughed: “I think you mean I am putting on weight, but that's what happens when you marry an excellent pastry cook.”

We chatted for a few more minutes. She asked what plays I had been performing, so I told her about 'Juliet' and 'Guinevere'. She seemed very impressed and said she really must come down to Stratford and see me perform one day. I wondered if that day would ever come as she always seemed so busy when I saw her, but I said nothing.

I bought a large Beef Stroganoff pie, a large quiche and a big box of pastries, explaining that I was looking after the children while Emma and David were out for the day and I wanted to prepare tea for them.

“All I have to do is warm up the pie or quiche, cook some vegetables and 'voilà', tea is ready,” I said with a smile, and that's exactly what I did.

When Emma, David and Thomas arrived home, both the adults looked exhausted and Thomas was actually asleep when David carried him inside. He took him into the bedroom and laid him on his bed, covering him with a blanket. I had cooked some new potatoes, peas and carrots and had warmed up the pie in the oven. Emma looked very grateful to have tea waiting.

“Harriet, you're a star!” she said as all the family sat down at the table to eat. I don't claim to be a great cook, but even I can manage a few vegetables! I wanted to ask them how things had gone but didn't like to say anything in front of the children, so had to confine myself to small-talk while we ate. Once the children had eaten their main course, then the pastries were revealed and of course they were a great success.

Finally, with the younger children put to bed, and Penny watching the television, we were able to sit down and discuss what had happened during the day.

“We didn't see the doctors do the bone marrow test on Thomas because they took him into a treatment room and the fewer people there the better, in case of infection,” she said “After they sedated him apparently they put a needle into his hip bone and drew out some of the marrow material to examine. They will have the results in a couple of days and assuming it is leukaemia, then Thomas will need to start chemotherapy for about a month. This means he will have to stay in hospital for much of the time.” Emma was holding it together well but I could see that tears were not far away.

“Can you stay in the hospital with him?” I asked.

“Yes I can but of course there are the other children to think of too,” replied Emma. “I really don't know at this stage how we can deal with this.”

“Well I am here for another three weeks before I have to go to America and I'm happy to look after the children, even stay here if necessary,” I said. “That gives us a bit of time to think of something.”

Although I was the younger sister, it seemed to me that because I wasn't directly involved, I would have to play the part of 'big sister' for a while.

As I drove back to York, it occurred to me to check with my agent, Richard, if there was some way I could get out of my contract to play 'Juliet' in America, so I pulled over at a parking bay and rang him on my phone. When Richard answered I explained the situation to him and asked if anything could be done.

“I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Harriet, but I don't think you can get out of it. In the standard contract you signed, there is an option to cancel without penalty but only if you suffer severe illness or accident, or a close relative dies or has severe illness or accident. 'Close relative' means a spouse or legal partner, parents, or children. Unfortunately, a nephew doesn't qualify.”

“Supposing I walked away from the contract?” I asked.

Richard laughed: “Don't even go there. Our friends across the Atlantic tend to be a bit litigious. It could cost you a six or even seven figure sum. It might even bankrupt you and of course, there's also the damage to your reputation for reliability.”

“I see. Well, in that case, we'd better forget this conversation ever occurred,” I said.

“What conversation?” said Richard. “I meant to ask you how 'Camelot' went. Was it a success?”

“Yes it was, but I'm not saying that was because of me. They are a very good amateur company and I enjoyed performing with them.”

“How were the ticket sales?” said Richard.

“It sold out most performances.”

“And you're saying that had nothing to do with one of the stars of the Imperial Shakespeare Company performing with them? I don't believe you! You should have let me ask them for more money, they paid you a pittance.”

“It was all they could afford,” I replied. I wasn't going to tell him that I actually gave them the money back. If he knew that he really would think I was crazy. We chatted for a few more minutes about the Melbourne season of Shakespeare. He was still waiting to finalise the contract, but it seemed it would go ahead. I had already discussed it with Reggie and obtained his support of course. Then I continued my drive back to York.

So that was one idea out of the window. What else could I do? And then I had one of my 'bright ideas'. It just might work.

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.

Chapter 41   A problem solved

It's been a while since I mentioned our Aunt Peggy who lives in Australia, but that's not to say that I hadn't been in touch with her quite frequently. When Aunt Peggy came over to England to care for Mum during her final illness, both Emma and I became very close to her. It made a huge difference to Mum, having her sister with her during the final weeks of her life and we will always be grateful to her for that. After she returned to Australia, we exchanged frequent emails and occasional phone calls. I was fortunate enough to meet Aunt Peggy, her husband Ron and her children Ron junior and Flora, when I spent a short time in Melbourne during the ISC's world tour. I mention this because I would hate you to think that I only contacted her when I needed a favour and of course I did need one now.

I didn't want to put her on the spot by ringing her but instead wrote her an email. I explained about Thomas's leukaemia and how he would need to spend some weeks hospitalised in York while receiving treatment. I told her how it would be good for both him and Emma if she could be with him, but there were the other three children who needed caring for while their father was at work, and unfortunately, soon I had to go to America for a month to perform and couldn't get out of my contract. If Ron and the children could spare her for about a month, that would be an enormous help to us. I finished by telling her that I realised that I was asking a great favour of her. Then I pressed 'send' with my finger's crossed. If she couldn't make it I'd have to go to Plan B, except I didn't have a Plan B, since there were no other close relatives that I could ask to step in. I didn't tell Emma and David since I didn't want to raise their hopes and then perhaps dash them.

Two days passed, and I confess I had taken to checking my email 'inbox' about ten times a day. When I finally saw an email from Aunt Peggy, my heart was in my mouth before I clicked to open it.

'Dear Harriet, Emma and David, I was so sorry to hear about young Thomas's illness. It must be a very worrying time for all of you. Harriet, I have talked over your request with Ron and the children and they all agreed that we should do everything we can to help you at this time. If by coming over to England again I can help, then we are happy that I do so. I will have to ask you to make the travel arrangements, just as you did when I came over before, and I will look forward to seeing you all, even though it's such a bad time for you.
With much love, Aunt Peggy, Uncle Ron, Ron jnr and Flora.

I could have wept, I was so grateful. I immediately rang Emma and told her what I had done.

“I hope you don't think I went behind your back, but I didn't want to raise false hopes,” I said.

“Oh Harriet, don't be silly. That's just the best news you could give me,” she said. “Thomas starts his first round of chemotherapy in two days and I was going to ask if you could come over and even stay for a few days if you think Reggie won't mind?”

It was fortunate that as the only boy in the family, Thomas had his own room and an adult-size single bed which had been bought with the thought that he would 'grow into it'.

With Reggie's agreement and support, I packed a suitcase of clothes, toiletries etc and drove over to Bridchester the next day. In the meantime, I had telephoned Aunt Peggy and so had Emma, thanking her for once again helping in our hour of need. She said she could be ready in a week, so I set about booking a flight for her which would land her in Manchester, the nearest international airport. As I had done previously, I purchased a Business Class flight for her with an open-ended return date. This would be a lot more comfortable and help her to get over jetlag.

Early next morning I was off to Bridchester again and arrived just as Emma was getting ready to leave. David was driving her and Thomas to York so that he would have use of the car while she was away, and I settled in to look after the two youngsters. Penny had already left for school. They were pleased to hear that Aunt Peggy would be arriving on Wednesday week and I would be driving to Manchester to pick her up from the airport. David would go to the theatre when he came back as the Apollo Players were in rehearsal for a play starting in two weeks so time was getting short.

I settled in to being a locum housewife for my sister's family. It certainly wasn't what I had anticipated when I drove back to York after 'Camelot' concluded, but then life has a habit of doing these things. What was that saying by John Lennon – something like 'Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans'? Anyway, thanks to Aunt Peggy, I would soon be able to withdraw and get ready for my trip to America. I would also be able to spend more time in my proper rôle as a housewife for Reggie. I didn't resent looking after the children, but I confess that the amount of time we were spending apart was beginning to worry me.

The days passed by. We had daily reports from Emma and she was cautiously optimistic. Thomas was coping with the treatment very well. Children hate needles, and he was being subject to daily blood tests to check his response to the treatment. When Emma described how his lower lip quivered when the blood collector lady arrived in the ward, I could tell that she was on the brink of crying, and I wasn't far off it myself. However, the good news was that the number of bad 'blast' cells in his blood was falling.

I had organised with Reggie to drop a key off to Emma so that she could use our flat to wash her clothes, and take a break from the hospital, rather than come back to Bridchester. She was able to do this while Thomas slept which he usually did after a dose of chemotherapy. I would like to have gone to York to see them, but for the present my place was at Bridchester, looking after the other children. They kept asking when Mummy and Thomas were coming home and all we could tell them was 'soon'. I was glad that David was working as it gave him a distraction from worrying about Thomas. Since I would never have children of my own, looking after Penny, Elizabeth and Stella, gave me an insight into just how much work is involved in caring for children and increased my respect for Emma that she seemed to cope with it so well.

The days passed, and soon Aunt Peggy was on her way to England. She would be landing in Manchester early Wednesday morning and David had arranged to take the day off and stay home while I drove to Manchester to pick her up. Tuesday evening I set my alarm and Wednesday morning got up while it was still dark for my shower and breakfast before dressing. The forecast was for a warm day, so I chose a pretty cotton summer dress to wear with bare legs and sandals. You might wonder why I was dressing up to meet Aunt Peggy. It had been some time since I last saw her and I wanted to look nice. In addition, I was following the example of my mentor, Dame Emily, who is instantly recognisable almost anywhere in the world.

“People expect us to look much as we do on stage or screen and I would hate to disappoint them,” she said. “Besides, the 'paparazzi' always delight in taking a picture of us if we are not looking our best and splashing it all over the tabloids.”

I was nowhere near as recognisable as stars of the big or small screen, since most of the time I performed on stage, but I took her advice to heart.

I arrived at Manchester Airport about thirty minutes before Aunt Peggy's plane was due to land. I knew from past experience that although First Class and Business Class passenger emerge first, it takes the best part of an hour to get through Immigration and Customs, so I found a café with a good view of the doors in the Arrivals Hall, ordered a coffee and sat down to wait. I do find airports interesting places to spend an hour, there are so many people passing by, some wearing exotic garments, not always suitable for the British weather.

Eventually, the doors leading into the Arrivals Hall started to open and people emerged with their trolleys laden with suitcases. Judging by the look of their luggage, they were from First Class, but gradually more and more people appeared, and then suddenly, there was Aunt Peggy! I moved to the front of the barrier and waved, and catching sight of me she waved back. Then we were hugging each other and she held me at arms' length and said: “Goodness me, Harriet, you look amazing! Married life and the stage is definitely agreeing with you.”

Inevitably I blushed and struggled to find something to say in return and came out with: “It's so good to see you again, Aunt Peggy. How was your flight?” Banal I know, but it was the best I could think of on the spur of the moment.

“Excellent, thank you, Harriet, although I feel sorry for everyone packed in at the back of the plane for twenty-four hours with only one break. I hope you realise that I could never face a long-haul Economy flight again thanks to you?”

I laughed. “It's the least I could do in return for you leaving your family for a month to come and help us.”

We walked out of the terminal and over to the carpark, where I loaded Aunt Peggy's big suitcase into 'Bluebird' ad we headed out into Manchester. Thank goodness I had had some experience of driving to the airport and back as the traffic is not for the faint-hearted.

Aunt Peggy sensibly kept quiet while I navigated clear of the city, allowing me to concentrate on driving, but once we were onto the Motorway and north of the city, then I could relax and we could talk. I filled her in on what was happening with Thomas and how Emma was staying with him while I stayed at Bridchester.

“I would have stayed there longer, but I signed a contract to perform in America and my agent told me not to even think of breaking it as I would probably be sued and bankrupted. That really wouldn't help things at present when I need my savings to help out Emma and David.”

“That's very good of you,” said Aunt Peggy. “You've always been a generous person.”

“I know they would do the same for me if our positions were reversed,” I replied. “They're bringing up their three children on one wage, and also Stella, though of course we pay money for her upkeep. Even so, I think it's quite a struggle for them, so it's only right that I help out where I can, and Reggie agrees that I should do it. Believe me, after looking after small children for even a short time, my respect for Emma has increased tenfold.”

Aunt Peggy looked at me and changed the subject: “I'm going to embarrass you again,” she said. “But when I saw you there at the airport, I thought to myself 'That young lady is a star, and anyone seeing her would know that'. It wasn't just the fact that you were beautifully made up and wearing a pretty dress while almost every other woman, myself included was wearing pants (which I should mention is the Australian word for what we call trousers); no, you just have that look about you that says you are special.”

As she predicted, my face was glowing.

“There's just one thing that bothers me, and I hope you don't mind me mentioning it. As you become more and more well known, what if someone in the gutter press decides to go digging into your past and finds out your origins. How will you handle that?”

“I'm prepared for the fact that it might happen,” I replied. “The business that I'm in, it's always a possibility, but everyone who needs to know, like Dame Emily, and Duncan Morgan, my boss at Stratford, already know and it doesn't bother them. Even the general public understand a bit more now and realise that there's a difference between a transgender woman and a drag queen. We have to thank those brave souls who were prepared to 'come out' as it were and reveal who they really are. I might hit the headlines for a day, but then it would be old news and soon forgotten. I don't think it would affect my career.”

“Well I hope you are right,” said Aunt Peggy. “I would hate to see you get hurt.”

Now it was my turn to change the subject: “How's Ron, Ron junior and Flora?” I asked.

Aunt Peggy laughed. “Ron's the same as he always was, he really doesn't change, he just gets a bit more grey hair; Ron junior is determined to be a farmer like his Dad and Flora wants to be a nurse.”

“That's good to hear. They are both well-grounded, which doesn't surprise me a bit, having parents like you. With my job I meet a lot of young people, girls mostly, who want to be professional actresses. It's a bit hard to dissuade them without sounding like a hypocrite, but I know that only a few will ever make it professionally. Nurses are always in demand, and I have not doubt that Flora will be a very good one, she's such a caring person”

We stopped off at a Services about half-way to York and had a 'cuppa' and a sandwich. We had agreed that it would be good to visit Emma and Thomas at the hospital first before going on to Bridchester. I had sent Emma a text with our estimated time of arrival and checked that it was alright with her. About an hour later we pulled into the hospital car park.

Hospitals, especially the big ones, can be scary places if you're not used to them. The corridors seem to go forever, like a rabbit warren. Notices indicate departments with long names mostly derived from Greek or Latin; nurses in their crisp uniforms hurry past and so do doctors in their white coats with the obligatory stethoscope around their necks like a badge of office.

Aunt Peggy and I made our way to a sign that said 'Enquiries' and enquired where we would find Thomas and Emma. In reply to the question, I said that I was his aunt and Peggy was his 'great aunt'. We were directed to 'Paediatric Oncology' on the fourth floor. As we took the lift, Aunt Peggy said to me: “Please don't call me a 'great aunt', it makes me sound positively prehistoric.” She did say it with a smile. We agreed that she would be 'Aunt Peggy' to both generations.

We found the ward and the Nurses' Station from where we were directed to a single room and told we must wash our hands and don a gown and a mask to reduce the chance of infection since Thomas's immune system was compromised by the chemotherapy he was on. We did as we were told and tapped on the window of Thomas's room. Emma was sitting by his bed and looking up, smiled when she saw us.

Opening the door she whispered “Thomas is asleep. It usually happens after a dose of chemo. Come in and hae a look at him.”

We stepped inside the room. It was hard not to let the tears flow seeing the small fragile figure asleep in the bed. He had lost most of his hair and looked very pale.

“How is he going?” Aunt Peggy whispered.

“Quite well, but it's going to be a long haul for the poor mite,” whispered Emma back.”The blood tests are showing promise.”

“I can come and sit here to give you a break until I have to go to America,” I said. “I'll take Aunt Peggy to Brid now and she can settle in.”

Emma hugged Aunt Peggy: “Thank you so much for coming over and please pass on my thanks to your family for sparing you for a month. We really didn't know how we were going to cope.”

Thomas stirred and opened his eyes. He didn't seem in the least alarmed at seeing two more figures in gowns and masks, perhaps because there was no sign of the blood-collecting trolley.

“Thomas, your Aunty Harriet is here to see you, and this is Aunt Peggy who has come all the way from Australia to look after your Daddy and sisters until we can both go home. Wasn't that kind of her?”

Thomas nodded solemnly.

“Aunt Peggy is going to Bridchester now, but Aunty Harriet will come in and see you sometimes now she's coming back to York.”

Thomas seemed to take all this in. I said we had better be going. I could see that Aunt Peggy was having trouble holding back the tears and I wasn't far off them myself. We didn't touch Thomas, but we hugged Emma again and left the room, putting our gowns in a laundry basket and our masks in a bin. Aunt Peggy's eyes were brimming with tears.

“He'll pull through, he has to,” I said with a note of determination in my voice that I did not feel.

Then we walked back to the car and drove to Bridchester.

To be continued.

Chapter 42  . Mixed emotions

About an hour later, Aunt Peggy and I arrived in Bridchester and drew up outside Emma and David's house. David welcomed Aunt Peggy with a hug, told her how much he appreciated what she was doing for them and introduced her to the children. Penny remembered her from her previous visit, but the two youngest members of the family had no idea who she was. Aunt Peggy is a genius with children and it wasn't long before they seemed quite relaxed with her. I think her Australian accent intrigued them, and gifts of a toy koala and kangaroo to the youngsters, and a necklace with an opal for Penny to acknowledge that she was growing up, were very well received.

They asked if she had seen Mummy and Thomas and when were they coming home? Aunt Peggy handled these questions very diplomatically, saying that she had seen them and that Thomas would come home with Mummy as soon as the doctors said he was well enough. Rather than leave the children alone with a comparative stranger, David said he would stay home the next morning, and I said I would drive up again for the day so that he could go to the theatre for a rehearsal while I stayed with Aunt Peg gy and the girls.Teatime was coming up, so I unloaded Aunt Peggy's suitcase, put it in Thomas's room and bidding everyone goodbye, I drove back to York to make tea for Reggie.

It was wonderful to spend time with Reggie once more. Circumstances had kept us apart far too much, but Reggie was very understanding. I knew I was so lucky to be married to such a marvellous man. Much later when we lay in bed together after the wonder of intimacy, Reggie said to me: “You're very quiet, what are you, thinking”

“Well I can't help wondering if you ever wish you were married to a woman with a regular 'nine to five' job?”

Reggie laughed quietly. “I happen to love you and that's not who you are. We've talked about this before and you must know that I totally understand that you would be miserable if you couldn't go on stage. I'm not jealous of that because I know you will always come back to me.”

I turned to him and hugged him and we fell asleep in each other's arms.

The following morning, after I had made breakfast for us both, and Reggie had left for university, I drove back to Bridchester for the day. Once I arrived, David headed off to the theatre for a rehearsal. Penny had gone to school and both Elizabeth and Stella had obviously taken to Aunt Peggy 'like ducks to water' as the saying goes. I know it's totally ridiculous, but I suddenly felt very jealous of her; me, the person who had suggested in the first place that she come over and look after the children.

Aunt Peggy and I played with the little girls, but it was very obvious to me that I was superfluous to the situation. After lunch, when the girls were put down for their afternoon nap, Aunt Peggy and I sat down for a cup of tea.

“I've become quite envious of you,” said Aunt Peggy. “I'm one of those many people who hate public speaking, even if it's only in front of people that I know. If I have to stand up and give a speech, my heart races and I get sweaty palms. On the other hand, I've seen you in the theatre in Melbourne holding fifteen hundred people in the palm of your hand as you convince them that you really are Juliet, a fourteen year-old girl in love for the first time. You must never tell him I said so, but you brought my husband Ron to the brink of tears in that final scene. That is a very special gift.”

I felt tears start in my eyes:”Aunt Peggy, you are a very wise woman. I know why you told me that story. You saw how I felt this morning and I feel ashamed. You have a very special talent; children just automatically gravitate to you in a way they never would with me and I realise now that that's alright, because we all have our particular talents, and this is yours.”

Aunt Peggy smiled and reaching out, took my hand. “You mustn't be hard on yourself. You're actually a very good aunt and an excellent step-mother. I've had an advantage in that I've brought up two children from birth so I've learned a lot. If you'd been in my shoes, you would have learned it too. None of us can everything we want in life and sometimes we just have to accept that.”

I found myself able to smile too: “I've just realised something Aunt Peggy, and I can't think why I didn't realise it before; you are so very like Mum, which isn't really surprising since you're her sister.”

“Harriet, I know that you miss her, and that's very natural; I miss her too. Perhaps we'll all be together again one day,” she responded.

I felt I was in danger of tearing up again. “Sometimes when I'm onstage and things are going really well, I like to imagine that she's there in the audience and nodding approvingly.” I managed another smile. “I know that sounds crazy and I wouldn't tell anyone else or they'd think I'm going 'ga-ga'.”

Aunt Peggy smiled: “I don't think you're going 'ga-ga' at all, it's a very natural reaction. I'm really looking forward to seeing you onstage again when you come out to Melbourne.”

“Well I'm going to make sure you get the best possible seats, all of you,” I replied, grateful that she had subtly changed the subject.

We finished our tea and I helped her wash up before I headed back to York. It had been an emotional day but a fruitful one for me.

The following couple of weeks I divided between York and Bridchester. After just over a week of chemotherapy, Thomas was allowed a break from his treatment and I picked up him and Emma from the hospital and drove them home. With Thomas reclaiming his own room, Penny had offered to share with Aunt Peggy, so a single bed had been bought for her. It was lucky that the bedrooms in their house were quite large.

I will always have a soft spot for the Apollo Players, not just because their main director is my brother-in-law, but also because they gave me my first rôle on the professional stage.

Outside of the major towns, Bridchester is one of the few places in the country to still have an active professional theatre group. This is largely due to the wonderful support they receive from the town and surrounds and in return, the Players have always tried to put on really entertaining plays, and to look 'outside the box' as they had on this occasion.

Their latest production was 'Summer of the Seventeenth Doll' by the playright Ray Lawler, considered an Australian classic. Set in 1953, two sugarcane cutters, Barney and Roo travel from Queensland to Melbourne in the 'off season' where they spend their 'rest and relaxation' time with two women, Olive and Nancy. Among the gifts they bring annually is a kewpie doll, hence the title of the play. It's a human trait to think that when a tradition is established, it will go on for ever, but this is not necessarily the case. To say more would be to spoil the play for anyone who gets a chance to see it.

“I think it will go well, I certainly hope so,” said David. “It's been produced in England before but not for some years. I hope there's no complaints about the lack of Australian accents.”

Aunt Peggy laughed: “We don't all sound like 'Chips Rafferty',” she said, ironically in her own broad Australian accent. “There's so many migrants in Australia that you can hear almost any accent that exists. I do hope it goes well. You know I've never seen it?”

“Well in that case you must come to a perfomance as my guest,” said David. “The play is actually a part of what's called the 'Doll Trilogy', as there are two prequels, although Lawler wrote them later than the original 'Doll'. If this production goes well, I hope we can present them too.”

“How are ticket sales going?” I asked.

“Really well; our locals are great supporters and we couldn't manage without them. Opening Night is sold out.”

It was arranged that Reggie and I would drive to Brid one evening and Reggie would babysit while Aunt Peggy and I accompanied David to the theatre. It was an excellent performance and I sat there fascinated. It was a real treat for me to be in the audience for a change. At the end when we gave the cast a standing ovation, Aunt Peggy said: “To think I had to come twelve thousand miles to see an Australian play!”

When we saw David after the performance I complimented him on an excellent production. I had noticed that he really took notice of my opinion now, that's what performing with the ISC does for one!

“Do you have any suggestions for improvements?” he asked, and I honestly hadn't and told him so. I could tell that he was really pleased with my response. The only thing that might have made the performance better would have been actors with genuine Australian accents, but rather than try to imitate the accent and fail, as I have heard quite well-known actors do, it was better than they just used their normal speaking voices and let the audience concentrate on the drama. Later, when he pressed me, saying there must surely be something that would have improved the play, that's what I told him and he agreed with my view.

Back in York, Thomas had returned to the hospital for more treatment and some days I spent at the hospital to give Emma a break. Thomas was progressing really well. Some days he was sleeping, and I just sat beside the bed and read, mainly scripts, even 'Romeo and Juliet' for the umpteenth time. Some people might ask why I would do that when I knew the whole script backwards? My reply would be that with a genius like Shakespeare, no matter how many times you read his works, there is always something new to discover.

Other times Thomas was awake and like any child, loved having favourite books read to him, especially as I made up different voices for all the characters. He knew the books by heart and would pull me up if I made the slightest mistake, which I occasionally did deliberately to see if he was alert.

The time was approaching when I would have to leave for America, so I prepared him for my absence.

“You know that I'm an actor, which means that I do things called plays which are telling stories in a big room called a theatre?” I said.

“Daddy does that and Mummy did before I was born,” he responded, once again proving what a smart child he was.

“Well I have to go over the sea to a place called America to do a play for four weeks, so I won't be able to come and see you while I'm gone, but I'll think of you every day and come back as soon as I can,” I said.

“Do you go in an aeroplane?” he said.

“Yes, just like in the book we've been reading,” I replied. “Would you like to go in an aeroplane?”

“Yes please,” he replied and I wondered what I'd let myself in for, realising that children don't take such remarks as something they might like to do sometime in the future What I had said amounted to an invitation to take a plane trip.

“I'll talk to Mummy and Daddy and see if we can go on one when I come back and as soon as you're well,” I said, hoping he'd forget about it but suspecting he wouldn't.

This time I had mixed feelings about my overseas trip. I really didn't want to leave England because of Thomas and also because I had been spending too much time away from Reggie and that worried me as well. However, I knew, especially after my discussion with Richard, my agent, that I had no option but to go, so being a professional, I determined to do the best I could; audiences deserve that.

The last week in England I spent visiting Thomas in hospital, the other children and Aunt Peggy in Bridchester, and always being home with tea cooked when Reggie arrived, being the best wife I could possibly be.

The last night with Reggie, after we had made love, I started crying which of course concerned him and made me furious with myself.

“I'm sorry, darling, I'm just not as good a wife as you deserve,” I sobbed, and Reggie held me tight and comforted me telling me that of course I was a good wife and that he was very proud of me. It was wonderful being held in his arms and I knew I was going to miss that so much. I would have suggested that he fly over for a few days in the middle of the season but he had final exams coming up and I knew that to ask him to interupt his studies would have been selfish. I would just have to tough it out.

To be continued.

Chapter 43   Back in America

We English tend to be a bit possessive about Shakespeare; after all he was born, lived his whole life and died in England and as far a we know never set foot outside of it. Some people ask how he seemed to have so much knowledge of Italy, as displayed in 'Romeo and Juliet', 'Two Gentlemen of Verona' and 'The Merchant of Venice'? The answer is that he probably gained his knowledge from wealthy friends who had spent time there, as the rich did enjoy travelling to mainland Euro,pe..

Of course, there are still some people who claim that Shakespeare's plays were actually written by his contemporary Christopher Marlowe, who, fearing for his life after accusations of blasphemy, faked his death and was smuggled abroad, later sending plays and poetry anonymously to England to be published under Shakespeare's name. In the four hundred years since Shakespeare's death, no-one has conclusively proved this to be true, and it might surprise you to know that I don't really care. Whoever wrote the work attributed to Shakespeare was a brilliant poet and playwright and there can be no argument about that.

Shakespeare is very popular in America and I had already spent some time there as an 'artist in residence' and performer. This time I was heading to a relatively small town of Burntoak near Orlando in Florida. Each year there is a Festival featuring plays by Shakespeare, his contemporaries and some more modern works. This continues for about six months but I was contracted to perform for four weeks in 'Romeo and Juliet'.

Reggie drove me to Manchester where I boarded the flight to Orlando. As usual I flew Business Class. It might sound like luxury but I would be rehearsing the following day and needed to arrive refreshed.The flight lasted just over nine hours leaving at noon and arriving in America at about five o'clock in the evening because of the four-hour time difference. I slept for much of the journey, another reason for flying Business Class, the seats are much more comfortable I had been told that there would be a chauffer waiting to take me to Burntoak, and sure enough, when I came out into the Arrivals Hall, there he was, waiting with a sign saying 'Miss Stow'. He introduced himself as Paul, took my cases and showed me to the limousine waiting in the parking lot. As usual, it was the size of a small bus.

I chose to sit in the front seat with Paul and as we travelled along, asked him about Burntoak where it seemed the annual Festival was its main claim to fame and largely responsible for the health of its economy. There were a number of hotels and motels and apart from that most of the residents were retirees. The surrounding countryside consisted mainly of farms.

As we neared the town we passed a giant billboard featuring a much larger than lifesize picture of me in costume as Juliet. My name actually appeared above the play's title at the top of the sign in a very large font with 'of the Imperial Shakespeare Company, England' beneath.

Below the play's title were the other major players in a smaller font. Romeo was being played by a young American actor, Dean James, whom I had heard of but had never seen perform, and the font for him was larger than Friar Lawrence played by Robertson Greene and Nurse by Margaret Smith. Below them was the Director's name – Gregory Nunn.

You might think I would get a swelled head seeing my 'star billing' but in fact it had the reverse effect. In Stratford I was one member of the company, and even though I had graduated to bigger parts, I was acting with some members of 'theatre royalty' who were household names. Here it seemed I was 'the star' and I suddenly felt the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. If this productions was not a success, then it would be all my fault. I think Paul noticed that I became rather quiet, but I don't think he realise why.

We drew up outside Burntoak's best hotel, and after I alighted, Paul took my suitcases out of the trunk and led the way into the foyer. Two men were standing there wearing dinner suits and the older one immediately stepped forward to greet me, shaking my hand.

“Miss Stow, I'm Gavin Robertson, the Festival Director, and this is Greg Nunn who is directing 'Romeo and Juliet'.”

The younger man stepped forward and also shook my hand: “I'm so pleased to meet you Miss Stow and I'm looking forward to working with you.”

I responded that I was pleased to meet them both and to please call me Harriet.

Gavin told me that they hoped I would join them for dinner in the hotel restaurant, and after I was shown to my room, I considered the clothes I had brought with me. I decided that an evening gown was most suitable considering the way my hosts were dressed and the fact that the hotel was decidedly 'upmarket'. I had a quick shower, put on fresh makeup, dressed in my gown and put on six inch heels.

When I came down the stairs at the appointed time, the two men were again waiting for me, and led the way into the dining room. The table towards which they were headed had a young man sitting at it with his back to me and for a brief moment I thought it was Richard Jenkins. Then he glanced around, saw us coming and stood up. It was obvious to me that this must be Dean James. He was very tall and incredibly handsome. I might be married but that doesn't mean that I can't appreciate male beauty. I imagined that he must have to beat off women with a stick. Greg introduced us and we shook hands. I decided that I was going to enjoy acting with this young man.

The dinner was very pleasant. Naturally, we all chatted about the theatre. It might have been very boring to an outsider, but we were all in the business, so it was natural to 'talk shop'. I was asked what plays I had been in recently and all three men were surprised to hear that despite being mostly known for my work in Shakespeare's plays, my last rôle had been in a musical. I asked Dean what he had been doing and it seemed he had been very busy too, with several Shakespeare productions and also a small part in a film. When I was asked if I had been in any films I replied that I hadn't. I decided against referring to my small part in 'Under Milk Wood' which required me to bare my breasts, not that I was ashamed of it, but now that I was concentrating on Shakespeare and these people didn't really know me, it didn't seem the right thing to mention. Perhaps I was overly concerned and maybe they weren't familiar with Dylan Thomas's masterpiece. I was prepared to mention my very small part in the television production of Charlotte Brontë's “The Professor”, her first novel and they certainly hadn't heard of that.

“Haven't you considered more television or films?” asked Greg.

“I might in the future but I must admit that even in my limited experience, all the waiting around between shots didn't appeal to me. My only other television productions have been live recordings of stage performances and I suppose that doesn't really count.”

We didn't have a late night because there would be a rehearsal the following morning. For the same reason, I had kept to mineral water during the dinner. With only a four-hour difference in time zones from England, I didn't expect to suffer from jet-lag but I still felt that an early night was in order.

The following morning I was up early, showered, dressed and went down to the dining room for breakfast. The limousine was waiting for me at the appointed hour and took me to the theatre.

The rehearsals and performances would take place in an interesting venue, called 'The Elizabethan Theater'. The stage area had a rear wall with practical doors, a balcony, thrust stage and canopy resembling the stage area of the Globe theatre in London, but that's where the similarity ended; instead of circular seating it was arranged more in the style of a modern theatre with raked rows of seats and no space in front of the stage for 'groundlings'. Total capacity was about two thousand people.

You may wonder how rehearsals had taken place prior to my arrival. Well, there was an understudy, Olivia Hathaway and she had played the part of Juliet in the rehearsals to date. I was introduced to her and couldn't help thinking what a wonderful name she had for acting Shakespeare. It seemed she was something of a fan of mine, which in some ways was a relief. I'm always concerned that my understudy will hate me and consider slipping poison in my tea in order to get a chance to perform! Alright, I'm joking, but having been an understudy myself in the past, I realise what a frustrating business it can be to turn up night after night and sit in the dresing room reading, knitting or listening to music.

“It's wonderful to meet you, Miss Stow. I've seen some of your work and I hope that one day I'll be as good as you,” she said. I try to take compliments like that in my stride but I still find them rather embarrassing.

“I'm sure you will be, perhaps even better,” I replied. Well what else could I say?

I was introduced to all the cast and backstage staff before we started a rehearsal of all my scenes. I was very pleased with the way they went. I hadn't had as much chemistry with a co-star since acting with Richard Jenkins. Greg Nunn was a very good director. He blocked out the scenes with me, and made a few suggestions during the rehearsals. I could tell that he was pleased with how the scenes had gone. Dean and I just 'clicked' but I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea from me writing that. I had already made it clear, although in a subtle manner, that I was happily married.

During one break in rehearsals, we had a cup of coffee together and I asked the question that had been bugging me: “Is Dean James your real name or a stage name?”

Dean smiled. “It's my stage name. My agent was a great fan of a young actor called James Dean who died in a car crash back in 1955, way before my time. He was only twenty-four and never fulfilled his potential. Jimmy suggested we reverse the two names and here I am 'Dean James'.”

“What about your real name” I asked.

“Promise you won't tell, or laugh?” he said.

When I nodded he said: “It's Hubert Humperdinck. Now you know why I don't use it.”

I kept a straight face. “Yes, long names mean smaller type on billboards.”

He looked at me suspiciously and then burst out laughing: “You're very kind Harriet.”

“Are you related to the German composer?” I asked.

“Engelbert? I believe he is a distant relative,” replied Dean, “But musical talent was not passed down to me. I did hear that there was an English singer who actually changed his name to Engelbert Humperdinck. Go figure.”

“Well you don't need musical talent, since you have enough acting talent to get by,” I responded. I wouldn't call that flattery, I was just speaking the truth.

The important thing about getting on so well with a co-star is that I was now much more relaxed and confident that the peformances would be a success. We all worked hard to achieve this and on opening night as I stood in the wings as was my custom, waiting for the show to start, I could hear the buzz of excitement in the audience. Greg walked by and paused: “It's a full house tonight.” he said

“I can hear them,” I replied with a smile, feeling quite confident that they would enjoy the show.

The lights dimmed and Chorus strode onto the stage, bowed and began to recite those well-known lines:

'Two households both alike in dignity
In fair Verona where we lay our scene...”

We were off and running.

Even at that point in my career, I could tell when a performance was going well, and this one certainly was. We could hear the audience reactions to the drama and the love scenes. Dean incidentally was a very good kisser, but strictly closed mouths of course!

During the final scene in the mausoleum the audience were very quiet, as if they were holding their breath and hoping for a happy ending, and when the Prince spoke his final words:

'For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.'

there was complete silence for at least ten seconds and then the applause began and it was like rolling thunder. Dean and I had been hidden by a curtain which enable me to go offstage and change into another costume, one without the fake blood where I had 'stabbed' myself.

The curtain calls began, and when Dean and I walked down the stage hand in hand and bowed, the audience were on their feet and cheering. It would be a strange person who was not pleased with such a response. We walked out of the doors at the back of the stage and the applause continued, so the whole cast walked out again, with Dean and I in the middle. We all joined hands and bowed again and again. Then everyone, including Dean turned and left the stage leaving me standing there alone and slightly surprised!

Obviously a speech was called for, so I thanked everyone for coming.

“It has been wonderful as a British actress to perform in the United States again, especially with such a talented cast,” I said to more applause.

I had been told that the State Governer and his wife were there so I acknowledged them by name to yet more applause. I was starting to wonder how I could gracefully leave the stage and then I had a brainwave.

“It's a convention for musical concerts to end with an encore, but not common at all after a play,” I said. “Nevertheless, you have been such a wonderful audience that I thought I would conclude this evening with a short speech by my favourite author, William Shakespeare, in which he sums up perfectly what we have all experienced tonight.” Inevitably there was more applause.

“This comes from 'The Tempest' and is spoken by Prospero. I waited for the applause to cease and then began:

'Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.'

“Thank you, and good night.” With that I bowed, turned and left the stage to more applause.

As I walked through the door at the back of the stage Greg Nunn was waiting for me. For a moment I wondered if I had upset him with my 'ad-lib', but he beamed.

“That was wonderful Harriet. You sent them away happy. What more could an audience want? They'll remember this night for the rest of their lives”

I returned to my dressing room which I shared with Olivia. I had been offered one on my own but I had no problems in sharing with my understudy, I never have. Olivia was bubbling over: “That was the best performance of Juliet that I've ever seen”, she said. “And the way you handled the audience at the end, I could never do that.”

“I really had no choice,” I laughed. “They all went off and left me alone on the stage. I would have looked a bit stupid running after them.”

“Well, you did it very well,” she said. “I guess I can go home now and leave you to change. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.” With that she left.

I phoned Reggie every evening while I was away and tonight had been no exception. However, he also insisted that I ring him when the performance was over to tell him how it went.

“You realise that with the time diffrence it might be three o'clock in the moring there, before I can ring?”

“It doesn't matter. It's the weekend. I'll wait up for you,” was his reply.

When I rang our home number, the phone rang for a full minute before a sleepy voice answered it.

“Reggie! I told you it was too late to phone you,” I said.

“Nonsense, I was sitting here watching television and I just dozed off for a bit. So how did it go?”

“Very well indeed. It was a full house and judging by the applause, they enjoyed the performance,” I said. “I think it's going to be a good season, but I'd still rather be there with you.”

“Me too,” he replied. “I'm marking off the days on the calendar. It won't be so long until you come back”

“I love you Reggie,” I said softly to my gorgeous man who responded in kind.

After I hung up, I changed out of my costume, took off my stage makeup and walked to the stage door where Paul was waiting to take me back to the hotel. It was comforting to know that I didn't have to rely on a taxi. With such a large population in America, I'm sure I was in no greater danger than in England, but you hear stories about muggings, especially late at night, and it doesn't pay to be over-confident. One day I asked Paul if he carried a gun.

“Yes I do Miss Harriet, but I've never had to use it apart from practise at the range,” was his reply. I guess that was some comfort to me; it's just that in England I would never have expected a chauffer to carry a firearm. Apparently it's that 'Second Amendment' thing over there.

To be continued.

Chapter 44   Drama offstage

The reviews were excellent, although I did feel that they concentrated a bit too much on me, and I mentioned this to Greg.

“You are too modest,” he replied. “The fact is that the whole company has shown a marked improvement since you arrived. I don't know whether it's the fact that they are trying to prove to the 'Limey' that Americans can do Shakespeare as well as the English can, or more likely, you just inspire them to try harder.”

That was a very kind remark, although I don't know if it was warranted.

The season was a great success. We were playing to full houses most days, and having set a precedent with my originally 'ad-lib, of course,re, now, of course, I was expected to produce one every performance. I gave them a mixture of Shakespeare speeches, some of his sonnets and poems such as one of my favourites – 'Annabel Lee' by Edgar Allan Poe. They were all greeted with rapturous applause, especially the American poems and seemed to finish off each performance very well.

Everything was going well and then one night there was some unexpected drama. At the hotel, the women were given rooms on the third floor and the men on the fourth for propriety's sake. As usual, returning to my room after the performance I was soon in bed and ready for my eight hours' sleep. I usually fall asleep very quickly but this night was an exception. I have a rather acute sense of smell and suddenly realised that I could detect smoke. 'Not again', I thought to myself, remembering my previous American trip, but there was no doubt about it. I slipped out of bed, put on my robe and walked to the door of my room. I checked the door for heat first, something I had been taught at school, and then cautiously opened it.

The corridor was empty, so I stepped out. The smell of smoke was not strong and obviously hadn't set off smoke alarms yet. Margaret Smith had the room next door to mine and as I stepped closer to its door, I was convinced that this was the source. I tried the door but it was locked, so I started to pound on the door with my fists and shouted out her name with all my might, but there was no response. It occurred to me that she might have been overcome by the smoke and I was becoming increasingly anxious. I was just about to run down the corridor seeking help when I realised that Dean James was beside me.

“What's up Harriet?” he asked curtly.

“It's Margaret. I can smell smoke coming from her room and she isn't answering.”

“Right. Have you rung the Night Desk?” I shook my head. “Tell them to ring the fire brigade and get an ambulance,” he said. Of course! Why hadn't I thought of that? I rushed back to my room, hearing a crash in the corridor, but I didn't hesitate and rang the Night Clerk. When I was sure she had understood me, I hurried back outside

The door to Margaret's room was open and smoke was pouring out. People had emerged from their rooms but there was no sign of Dean. The corridor smoke alarm was now emitting piercing beeps. I saw Olivia and said: “Where's Dean gone?”

“He's broken the door and gone in the room,” she cried, sounding terrified. “He's been gone ages. Oh Harriet, I'm so worried.”

Suddenly the penny dropped. I realised that when I saw Dean he was wearing trousers and an unbuttoned shirt but no socks or shoes. He must have been in Olivia's room.

Suddenly we heard loud coughing and Dean staggered out from the smoke, carrying a limp body in his arms. “Get the door shut,” he gasped.

This was no time for modesty. I knew the door lock was broken, so I slipped out of my robe, took a deep breath and stepping into the doorway, grabbed the door and pulled it towards me, jamming it against the doorframe with the material of my robe. It held the door shut and that stopped most of the smoke escaping. Meanwhile, Dean had carried Margaret into Olivia's room thee doors further down and laid her on the bed. By the time I got there, Olivia was administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but there was no response. I felt so useless, all I could do was stand there and watch, my heart pounding.

It was only a couple of minutes later that we all heard the thud of heavy boots running along the corridor and I ran out to see the firemen arriving, I pointed out Margaret's room, not that there was any real need. They had breathing apparatus and entered the room with fire extinguishers. Then to my intense relief, the paramedics arrived and I directed them into Olivia's room.

“What's the story?” asked one of them tersely.

“This is Margaret Smith. I know she's a smoker. I smelt smoke in her room and Dean, here broke in and rescued her. That was about five minutes ago and Olivia's been giving her 'mouth-to-mouth' ever since.”

“Thank you. We'll take over now,” said the lead paramedic. They attached an oxygen mask over Margaret's nose and mouth and started compressing her chest. After about a minute she started to cough.

“Thank God!” I exclaimed. My heart rate started to slow down.

A few minutes later it was all over. The paramedics brought up a trolley and loaded Margaret onto it to take to hospital for observation. The firemen were standing in the corridor and had just finished sealing up the door. One held the remains of my robe in his hands.

“I think this is yours ma'am, but it looks beyond repair,” he said.

I became acutely aware that I was standing there in my nightdress.

“I think you're right officer, but no matter if it helped contain the smoke. Do you know what happened?”

“The mattress was smouldering, that's where the smoke was coming from,” said one of them. “It looks like your friend is a smoker and smoking in bed is one of the most dangerous things you can do.”

A few minutes later the hotel manager arrived, looking extremely worried and he was greatly relieved to find that there was only one injury and no fatalities. I returned to my room to put on the hotel's complimentary dressing gown and also my slippers. The manager invited us all to go down to the hotel restaurant for coffee and biscuits. In addition, he suggested that Olivia, I and anyone else whose rooms were still smoke affected, might like to transfer to other rooms for the rest of the night. Four of us nearest to Margaret's room took him up on the offer.

“Should we ring Gavin or Greg?” Olivia asked me.

I looked at the wall clock. It was just after one o'clock.

“I think we should call Gavin,” I said. “He is the boss after all and needs to know about it. I'll do it.”

Gavin was asleep when I rang, but thanked me for letting him know what had happened. He was very relieved to hear that Margaret was in hospital and no-one else was affected. He said he would ring the hospital and see us all in the morning.

Down in the restaurant, I sat with Olivia and Dean.

“We'd better get our story straight about tonight,” I said. “It's quite possible that the press will get to hear of it and want to write an article for the local paper. I suggest we say that Olivia had a bad headache and rang me to borrow some analgesics but I couldn't help her so she rang Dean. He was just bringing some down when he saw me hammering on Margaret's door. Then everyone else was out in the corridor and saw what happened. It's not a great story and if you can think of something more convincing please speak up.”

Olivia was blushing deeply while I was speaking, knowing that I knew exactly why Dean was down on our floor. Neither she nor Dean could come up with anything better so we left it at that.

I was right about the press; two days later there was a banner headline in the local paper:

'ROMEO AND JULIET TO THE RESCUE'

Beneath it in smaller type was 'Stage stars rescue fellow thespian'. There was a large publicity photo taken of Dean and me onstage in the 'balcony scene'.

Strangely, the reporter didn't contact Olivia, Dean or me to find out what had happened, so our concocted story wasn't really needed. My experience of reporters is that they tend to write the story they want to write regardless of the facts. In a nutshell, the story was that I had detected smoke coming from Margaret's room, which the report said was 'due to an electrical fault', and was attempting to alert her when Dean walked by on the way to his room, broke down the door and rescued her.

If it had been anyone else, the story would only have appeared in the local paper, but thanks to our higher profile, the international press picked it up, and when I rang Reggie, whom I'd told the previous day, he said there was a small article about the incident in the York newspaper.

“My goodness, it's probably appeared in the Stratford paper too,” I said, and in that I was right. I thought I had better ring Emma and tell her what had happened.

“Yes, Dean was in bed with an actress, but it wasn't me,” I said.

Emma laughed. “I never thought for a moment it was. I've rarely seen two people so much in love as you and Reggie.”

“Well actresses do have a bad reputation, and to be honest, Dean is a very handsome young man,” I said.

“Careful, or you'll be sowing seeds of doubt in my mind,” said Emma, laughing.

There are times when I need to keep my mouth shut!

The day after the drama, it suddenly occurred to me that the smoke alarm in Margaret's room had not activated, something I hadn't realised in the heat of the moment. I immediately visited the hotel manager and pointed this out to him.

"If I had not smelled the smoke, Miss Smith might not have survived. I hope you will make it your business to have all of the room smoke alarms checked to see if they are working. If one has failed, there may be more."

He promised to get them checked immediately and I'm sure he did since any subsequent failure with catastrophic consequences would have resulted in a court case where I would inevitably be a witness for the prosecution. I never heard if there were any more alarms not working, but I'm sure they were replaced if there were.

Margaret Smith was in hospital for three days but made a full recovery. Fortunately, she had an understudy, so the performances were able to carry on. Naturally, Margaret wanted to thank us for saving her life and promised to never smoke In bed again. She was curious to know how Dean happened to be passing by and asked me when we were alone, which made me think she had suspicions..

“He happened to be visiting someone, but no, it wasn't me,” I said.

Margaret smiled. “I think we'd better leave it at that,” she said with a smile.

I agreed.

Margaret was able to return to her rôle after five days, as good as ever.

As for Olivia and Dean, they were both young single adults, so what they did in their own time was no-one's business. I don't know how long their romance persisted, although I do know that several years later they were both married to other people.

The season carried on with no more offstage dramas. One day I was in my dressing room and singing along to the radio. The door was open and Greg was passing by and stopped.

“I didn't know you are a singer, Harriet,” he said.
“Well Shakespeare's plays contain a lot of songs so we all have to sing a bit,” I replied.

“But you're really good.”

“I'm an actor who sings rather than a singer who acts,” I responded. I didn't tell him about 'Camelot'. Nevertheless, this little episode had a consequence.

The season finally came to an end. The last performance was packed out, not a spare seat to be had. At the conclusion and being left on stage by myself once more (by now I had had to accept that I was the 'star'), I recited 'Our revels now are ended...', just as I had done at the first night. It seemed the most appropriate thing to say. The crowd was on their feet cheering and I couldn't get away. Finally, I held up my hand for silence:

“You have been a wonderful audience, in fact all the audiences during this season have been so enthusiastic and supportive that I hope I get an opportunity to come here to perform again.”

This resulted in more cheers.

I glanced into the wings. “However the Stage Manager is looking at his watch and if we go on much longer he has to pay us overtime, so one more piece and then I really have to say goodnight. It's probably the most famous of all Shakespeare's sonnets, number eighteen. The final two lines show that he knew that he was writing for the ages. It starts “Shall I compare thee to a summer's day.”

I waited until the applause died down and the theatre was completely silent and then I raised my head and started to speak:

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou are more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd,
And every fair from fair sometimes declines
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimm'd
But thy eternal Summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breath or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee”

I spoke the last six words with quiet emphasis. There was a moment's silence and then the applause again. I bowed once more and turning left the stage as the house lights came up. The season was finally over.

Following the performance, there was a cast and crew reception with finger food and drinks in one of the rehearsal rooms. We all chatted and thanked each other for their contribution to the production. Then it happened; Greg, who perhaps had had a drink or two, tapped his glass to gain attention and said: “Everyone has contributed so much to this production that it might seem strange to single any one person out, but I think we can all agree that our guest performer from England, young Harriet has proved to be a real star and inspiration to us all.”

There were cheers at this and I, of course, turned bright red, but there was worse to come.

“Now I'm going to reveal a surprise to you. Harriet likes to hide her light under a bushel, but a little bird has told me that besides being a brilliant Shakespearean actress, she was recently playing the part of Guinevere in a production of 'Camelot'.”

There was a gasp from many of the cast and some cheers. My blushes would have lit up the room.

“So how about a song for us Harriet?”

I thought I saw a way out: “But I need an accompanist,” I said.

“We've got someone here who plays the piano,” said a voice.

Julie, who played Lady Montague stepped forward: “I play piano for an amateur theatrical group, we did a production of 'Camelot' last year. I'm sure I can remember the songs.”

So that's how I came to sing “I Loved You Once in Silence” to the cast and crew, and after thinking that I'd had my quota of applause for the night, gained even more! What a night it was. More was demanded. It turned out that Julie had played for 'South Pacific' so I sang 'Bali Ha'i'. It then became a general singsong and a really fun party to end the season.

The following evening, after a lunch with Greg and Gavin, and the promise to return for another season if my schedule permitted, Paul drove me to Orlando to catch the plane back to England. This time I would be adding four hours to the nine hours flying time, so by flying through the night I would be arriving in Manchester in the morning, where Reggie would be meeting me. Having made discreet enquiries, I bought Paul a large bottle of whiskey (as the Americans spell it) as a 'thank-you' for driving me around. He seemed genuinely surprised. Didn't everyone do that?

“Why thank you Miss Harriet, but you really didn't need to give me a present; I was just doing my job.”

“You did it extremely well and I wanted to show my appreciation,” I replied.shook his hand after he toom my suitcases into the Departures Hall.

--ooOoo--

I was flying back to England on a Boeing 747. I took my window seat in Business Class and wondered who would be sitting next to me. Flying as a single person it's always a bit of a gamble whether you get an entertaining companion or a thoroughly boring one. A little old lady was shown to the seat next to me only minutes before we were due to take off. I suspected that she has arrived late.

“Good evening my dear, My name is Gladys Watts and I'm pleased to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Harriet Staunton,” I replied. “I'm pleased to meet you too.”

The hostess came around with hot towels to refresh us, and then it was the obligatory safety talk as we taxied to the start of the runway.

Gladys was quite talkative and seemed a bit jumpy: “I'm from a little place called Burntoak and I'm going to England to visit my cousin whom I haven't seen in about twenty years. My children paid my fare and insisted I fly Business Class. Margery lives in a place called Stratford on Avon where Shakespeare was born, do you know it?”

I smiled. “Yes, quite well in fact.”

Gladys looked at me: “This is my first ever time flying and I'm a bit nervous. Do you mind if I hold your hand?”

“Of course,” I replied, and she clutched my hand. Hers was warm and damp, she really was nervous.

“I hope you don't mind me saying so, my dear, but your face looks familiar,” she said. “Have we ever met?”

I decided that if I told her the truth it might distract her as the aircraft started to pick up speed.

“I'm actually an actress and I've just spent a month playing in 'Romeo and Juliet' at the Burntoak Festival. Did you happen to see it?”

“Sadly no, I was too late trying to get a seat and it was sold out. Oh now I know where I've seen your face, it was on one of those big billboards around Burntoak, but I don't remember the name Staunton.”

I felt a bit embarrassed: “Well that's my married name; I use 'Harriet Stow' when I'm acting. I spend a lot of time acting in Stratford. I'd be happy to get tickets for you and your cousin to attend a performance at the theatre there if you like?”

“Could you? Oh, that would be wonderful,” she replied.

We were now in the air and I don't think she even noticed. My 'cunning plan' had succeeded.

While I had been in America, my agent, Richard, had rung me to say that I had been offered the part of 'Katherine Minola' in 'The Taming of the Shrew'. I thought this would be a fun part to play and a change from tragedy, so I had agreed at once. I said to Gladys: “Will you be in England for a few months? I'll be playing in 'The Taming of the Shrew' in Stratford.”

“I'd love to see it, but are the tickets very expensive?” she asked.

“I'd like you and your cousin to attend as my guests,” I responded, and she was thrilled at that. We exchanged contact details. She didn't have a mobile phone but gave me her cousin's address instead. The digital age seemed to have passed her by.

The flight passed very amicably. We chatted and later both slept for a while and woke when it was light and the cabin crew were starting to come around to serve breakfast. I was midway through my cereal when I heard a bang outside the aircraft which gave us all a shock. I craned my neck to look out of the window at the wing and was shocked to see flames apparently coming from the outer engine on the port wing.

To be continued.

Chapter 45   Return to Stratford.

Gladys started and nearly dropped her knife and fork: “What was that?” she gasped

I toyed with the idea of making something up, but realising that the Captain was bound to make an announcement in a few minutes, I thought the truth was best.

“I think there's a problem with one of the engines,” I said. “I'm sure the crew have it in hand and we do have three more working perfectly well.” I mentally crossed my fingers.

“Oh dear, and on my very first flight too,” said Gladys, but it seemed my apparent calmness reassured her.

Then the Captain's voice came over the loudspeakers. I don't know if they're taught to do this at pilot school, but they always sound so calm, whatever the crisis. After all, since our lives were in the Captain's hands, if he sounded scared, panic might ensue.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. As some of you are aware, we have a technical problem with one of our four engines which has had to be shut down. This aircraft can fly perfectly well on three engines, but as a precaution, we have been diverted to Shannon Airport in Ireland where we should land in about thirty minutes. You will be transferred to another aircraft to complete your journey to Manchester. We apologise for any inconvenience. Please continue to enjoy your breakfast.”

As a professional actress, I could have said it was a good act, but it seemed to work and the passengers stayed calm. I did some checking later and discovered that a 747 can fly perfectly well on only two engines and can even stay in the air on one, although it can't maintain its height and gradually descends. That really would be a problem. There have been a couple of famous cases of 747s flying into a volcanic ash cloud which caused all four engines to shut down. Fortunately, the crew were able to restart them and land safely. The 747 must be one of the safest aircraft ever built. However, nowadays planes are diverted well away from any active volcanoes.

I looked out of the porthole again and was pleased to see that flames were no longer visible, so I did the only thing I could do and continued to eat my breakfast. My apparent lack of concern seemed to rub off on Gladys. I'm only human, and that thirty minutes seemed to last a very long time. Eventually, the plane started to descent, and the captain announced that we would be landing in about ten minutes. We descended lower and lower and now we could see the country below us which was a great relief. There was the usual thump when the wheels were lowered and I had to explain to Gladys what was happening. A few minutes later we saw the airport buildings, then the sound of the wheels hitting the runway and the remaining engines going into reverse thrust mode to slow us down. I think there was a collective sigh of relief from all the passengers, whom I'm sure had all been holding their breath for the last few seconds, I know I had.. The aircraft slowed right down and swung off the main runway to taxi towards the terminal.

We were told that we would be escorted into a departure lounge and telephones made available to those without a mobile phone so that they could speak to anyone waiting for them in Manchester. I rang Reggie who was on his way to the airport, explaining what had happened and saying I would ring again when I had an idea of what time we would arrive.

“You sound remarkably calm for someone who's been through a crisis,” he said.

“Well, there's no point in panicking when there's absolutely nothing you can do but sit there and rely on the skill of the flight crew,” I replied.

Reggie laughed. “The unflappable Harriet Stow,” he said.

Gladys's nephew was coming to pick her up in Manchester but of course, she had no idea what his mobile phone number was.

“Never mind. I'm sure there will be an announcement at the airport, so he won't be worrying,” I said.

About an hour later we boarded another 747 which had been sent to pick us up. Gladys had asked to sit next to me again; it seemed I gave her confidence. The very short flight from Shannon to Manchester passed without incident and soon we were touching down again. I stayed with Gladys as we passed through Immigration, although we were separated for a while since I was a Briton returning home whereas she was an American visitor.

We found our luggage and went out into the Arrivals Hall. I saw Reggie immediately and after a big hug, introduced him to Gladys. Her nephew proved a bit harder to locate as he really didn't know what she looked like apart from the occasional photograph. Eventually, when the crowds thinned out a bit, we found him and I said goodbye to Gladys for the time being, promising to contact her again when I came down to Stratford in a week or so.

As we walked towards the terminal exit, two of the airport 'paparazzi' raced up to take our picture and asked how my trip had been. It seemed I was now famous enough to be recognised by newspaper reporters. I wasn't sure that was a good thing, but I supposed it came with the territory.

It was wonderful to be back in York with my husband again, and as you can imagine, we made up for lost time. The following morning he left early for the university leaving me to sleep in!

I haven't mentioned Thomas for a while, but all the time I was in America I kept in regular contact with Emma as well as Reggie, and I was pleased to hear that Thomas was responding very well to treatment. That morning I drove to Bridchester to visit Emma, Aunt Peggy and the children. I had bought small gifts for everyone and as Thomas had lost his hair due to the chemo, he was very pleased to get a Miami Dolphins Football Team cap. When I was passing through Boston previously, I had bought him a New England Patriots cap and I'd promised to buy him one wherever I went in America. Children never forget promises, something we adults sometimes forget. The other children weren't left out with dolls for Stella and Elizabeth, and a charm bracelet for Penny.

It was good to see Aunt Peggy again. Now that Thomas was on the mend, she was preparing to return to Australia and her family. I thanked her once again for her kindness in coming to help us in our hour of need.

“No worries,” she replied. “I'm always glad to help out, you know that. So when are you coming to Australia again?”

“My agent has organised my appearance for a month in Melbourne in about six months' time. I'll be playing Juliet for the very last time as I'm getting too old for the part. I confess, I'm going to miss it. When I'm an old lady, I'll put on the video recording and think to myself 'Was I ever really that young?'” I said laughing.

“So how does it feel to be a star?” said Emma, mischievously. She was looking so much better than when I last saw her. Thanks to Thomas's improving health, she looked more like her normal self. I blushed at her question as she had known I would, but I didn't really mind. Instead of denying it, I replied as follows -

“It was quite a shock to see my name above the title, and that huge picture of me on the billboards. They certainly do things differently over there. Actually, it's a huge responsibility. I was acutely aware that all those people were paying a lot of money to watch me perform, and they expected to get their money's worth. Thank goodness nobody booed, so I assume that they were not disappointed.”

“I'm sure you did give value for money. All jokes aside, you're a better actor than I'll ever be,” said Emma, which was very kind of her.

“And you're a better mother than I would have been,” I said, trying to deflect attention from myself.

-

On Saturday we had a farewell lunch for Aunt Peggy at Emma and David's home. The children were asking why she had to go and it was explained to them that Aunt Peggy had her own family in Australia who wanted to see her again. I don't think the children were convinced!

The following Monday, Aunt Peggy was flying out from Manchester. It was agreed that I would take her to the airport and then continue on to Stratford. I wasn't due to start rehearsing until the following day, but I hadn't been there for so long, I wanted to catch up with Dale and Frank and possibly do a little shopping. By sleeping at Stratford, I would get to the rehearsal room at ten o'clock without having to set out from York while it was still dark.

There were plenty of tears when Aunt Peggy's suitcases were loaded into my car and the final hugs and kisses exchanged. It was only when Aunt Peggy promised to come back and see the children again one day that they appeared a little molified. Then we both got into the car and I drove off, with Aunt Peggy dabbing her eyes. Saying goodbye is always hard.

As we drove to Manchester we chatted, mainly about the family and my career. I wanted her advice about Stella, asking if she thought we'd done the right thing about having her brought up in Emma and David's family.

“I know it's the best thing for her, but when she grows up will she be cross that her father and stepmother effectively palmed her off, even if it was with another branch of the family?”

“I think you worry too much, my dear,” said Aunt Peggy. “You are right, it would never have worked for you and Reggie to try and bring her up, when you are away so much and Reggie is away at University each day. She would spend half her time being baby-sat and getting very insecure. When she is older, she will understand. In the meantime, she is obviously very happy in a warm family environment.”

I was very relieved by this assessment from someone whose opinion I really respected.

“Now, what about you? Your career seems to be going from strength to strength,” she said.

“I've been very fortunate,” I responded. “When I get to Stratfrd I will be rehearsing for 'The Taming of the Shrew'. It will be nice to perform in a comedy for a change, even though I've really enjoyed playing Juliet. I'm looking forward to going to Australia as well; it's only a few months off.”

“This time I hope you will have a couple of days free so that you can visit us at home in Yack.”

“I do hope so, I'll really look forward to that. You must be so keen to get home again. You mentioned that Ron Junior wants to be a farmer like his dad, and Flora wants to be a nurse?”

“Oh yes, they've both got their heads screwed on and are quite determined on their choice of career. That's a good thing, since so many young people don't really know what they want to do. Young Ron will probably stay on the farm but we are encouraging him to keep studying as farming is becoming more complex than it once was. Flora will have to go to nursing school which will probably mean going to live in Melbourne for a awhile, but she won't be too far away.”

“Nursing is a great career for a young woman – they are in demand all round the world. It's much more secure than what I do.”

Aunt Peggy laughed “Well you seem to be doing alright!” I had to laugh with her.

We parked at Manchester Airport and it was time to say goodbye for now. At least I knew that I would be seeing her and the rest of her family in a few month's time. We were early, so after she had checked in, coming back to me wide-eyed and saying “They've upgraded me to First Class!” I had mentioned that if she looked smartly dressed there was always a chance of that happening, but of course it always depended on how full the sections were.

We had a cup of coffee and then it was time for her to board the aircraft. We hugged and kissed, and then she was off, through the double doors. I didn't wait to see the aircraft take off, since she couldn't see me and I couldn't see her, so I retrieved my car and took the road for Stratford. I had contacted Dale and Frank as a courtesy to let them know I was arriving that day. It wasn't to give them a chance to clean up since I knew that the apartment would be in perfect order, largely due to Frank.

I charged Dale and Frank a rent which any estate agent in Stratford would have told me was crazily low, but there was method in my madness. I didn't want them to leave, so, in the immortal quote from 'The Godfather', I 'made them an offer they couldn't refuse'. Where else would I find a couple who would look after the place so well, especially since I was away so often? Every so often, Dale and Frank told me they thought the rent should be raised and in paying so little they were taking advantage of me, but I assured them that I was very happy with things the way they were, and that they made up for the low rent by all the work they put into keeping the apartment in such good order.

When I pulled up outside the apartment I was surprised to see Frank's car was there. As soon as I went through the front door, he rushed up to greet me with a hug and a big kiss on the cheek.

“You're looking great Harriet! What a success you had in America! I read all the reviews, and I so wish I could have been there to see you perform!”

I laughed. “I wasn't expecting to see you here Frank.”

In turn he laughed. “Well it's my rostered day off and I thought I should clean up before you arrived.”

“Clean up? If I see a speck of dust it will be lonely,” I replied.

Frank's expression changed. “Actually, there's another reason I'm here; there's something I want to talk to you about. It's rather personal. Shall I make a cup of tea so we can sit down and chat?”

This was a shock to me and thoughts flashed through my brain. Were he and Dale splitting up? Or had they decided to move out after all? I sat at the kitchen table and waited while Frank made two cups of tea and put some biscuits on a plate, although I had suddenly lost my appetite.

To be continued.

Author's note – I would like to wish all my readers the Compliments of the Season. Thank you so much for your support during the year, your kudos and especially your comments on each chapter. Harriet's story will continue early in the New Year – sorry to end this year on a cliffhanger again but I'm sure you'll forgive me! Bronwen

Chapter 46   A big surprise

As Frank brought the tea to the table he looked at the expression on my face.

“What's wrong Harriet?” he asked.

“Well, when you say you want to discuss something personal, all sorts of things are entering my head, none of them very nice.”

“Such as?”

“I'm worried you and Dale have decided to move out, or worse still that you've decided to split up.”

F,rank laughed. “No, it's nothing like that. Let me explain.” He sat down and offered me the plate of biscuits which I declined. “When Dale and I were married, the celebrant said 'I now pronounce you husband and husband', and it just didn't sound right to me. You've always known that I took on the rôle of 'wife' in our relationship, and for a while, that was all I needed. Now I feel I need more. I kept quiet for a long while because I love Dale dearly and I didn't know how he would react; he's very perceptive for a man. (I thought to myself, 'that's more the sort of thing one woman would say to another') Eventually, he asked me what was wrong and I'm ashamed to say I burst into tears which of course really concerned him. He hugged me and like a dam breaching it all spilled out. I don't just want to take the rôle of a wife, I want to be Dale's wife.”

“You mean?”

“Yes, I want to become a woman in every way I can, just like you.”

I was shocked and relieved at the same time.

“How did Dale take it?”

“Remarkably well. You see he loves me too, and he said that anything I need to do to fulfill myself is fine by him; after all, I'll still be the same person inside, I'll just look different on the outside.”

“I hope you don't mind me asking, but how far do you want to take transitioning?” I asked.

“All the way, including surgery,” Frank replied. “I want to become 'Frances', the woman I now realise I was always meant to be. I've already been to my doctor who referred me to a specialist. He sent me for some tests and as soon as the results come back, I hope to start on hormones. I don't know why I'm telling you all this, you know it already,” said Frank, or should I now say, Frances?

“Have you already taken the first steps?” I asked.

“Oh yes. I've been dressing as a woman full time for a few weeks. You've seen me dress as a woman a few times before, but that was for a bit of fun, at least that's what I told myself. The only reason I dressed as a man today was because I didn't want to give you a shock.”

I had indeed seen Frank dressed and made up as a woman and a very pretty one he had looked. He was nervous now, clasping and unclasping his hands and I suddenly realised that he was wearing clear nail polish and how beautifully manicured his nails were. Frances noticed where I was looking and smiled. “I decided to leave my nail polish on; I do use colours too of course.”

“May I ask how they feel about this where you work?”

“They've been wonderful about it. The manager said that he had hired me for the quality of my work, not how I looked, and he would be very happy for Frances to continue to work for them. I broke the news to my workmates and they are all very supportive. I'm gradually getting them used to the idea by wearing trouser suits to work, minimal makeup and low-heeled shoes. The last thing I want to do is look like a drag queen. When they are more used to me, then I will graduate to dresses and high heels. It's fortunate that I'm doing this now when people are starting to realised the difference between transgender and transvestites.”

“Well, I'm very relieved, and of course I will help you in any way that I can. In fact, if you'd feel more comfortable wearing something more feminine now that you've told me, please don't let me stop you changing.”

Frank smiled. “I don't need to change right now, but the next time you see me, I'll be Frances.”

“Well, I have to go to the theatre to see the CEO, Duncan Morgan before I start rehearsing tomorrow, so maybe I'll see Frances when I return?”

Frank smiled. “You can count on it.”

When the 'Boss' asks to see you, it can be a bit intimidating, but I had no reason to believe that Duncan had any bad news for me. Before leaving for the theatre, I went to my bedroom and changed into a dress and heels. There was a chance that people would recognise me at the theatre and I always followed Dame Emily's advice that I should present myself the way the public expected to see me.

I parked at the theatre and entered through the front doors and yes, I was aware that some eyes were upon me. I went up to the Admin Suite and greeted Duncan's secretary Penny Lane.

“Hi Harriet! I hear you were a big star in America,” she said mischievously, reaching into a drawer in her desk and producing a print of the billboards in Florida. “Can I have your autograph, miss?”

“Oh goodness! Has everyone seen that?” I cried.

“Well if they haven't, it's not for want of me trying,” she said, laughing, and I had to laugh too.

“They're different in America, nice but different; they like to have 'stars' in their shows. For want of someone better they decided to choose me.”

“You're too modest,” she replied. “Duncan is with Sir John Richardson but he shouldn't be much longer.”

“Sir John? I thought he was retiring,” I said.

Penny laughed. “Pretend I didn't say anything. I've probably said too much already.”

Just then, Duncan's door opened and Sir John appeared. I had seen him before and he had nodded to me in that way people do when they don't actually know who you are. This time was different, he stopped to talk to me.

“Ah, Miss Stow. I understand you had a very successful season in America,” he said.

For a moment I was struck dumb and then, finding my voice said. “Yes, Sir John, it went quite well.”

“More than 'quite well' from what I've heard,” he replied. “I look forward to working with you soon.”

Not having a clue what he was talking about, the best I could come up with was “It will be an honour, Sir John.”

He smiled, nodded, and then he was gone. I noticed Duncan was standing at the open door to his office taking it all in, so I stood and walked over to where he was waiting for me.

“Come in, Harriet, and take a seat. Welcome back to Stratford. Sir John was right, your season in Florida was a great success from all my reports. In fact it went so well, they are now making inquiries about us sending a full cast over there to play Shakespeare, and of course, they insist that you are included.”

“Well, that's very flattering,” I said. “But something puzzled me just now, Sir John said something about looking forward to working with me. Do you know what he was talking about?”

Duncan smiled. “Perhaps he jumped the gun a little. Sir John is proposing to retire from the stage soon, but he wants to have one final season of 'King Lear', which has become one of his most famous rôles, a bit like you with 'Juliet'. He wants it to be presented in Stratford and of course, we are delighted to accommodate him. I've been discussing the other major rôles with Gwynneth, our Artistic Director and she suggested that you would be perfect for the part of 'Cordelia'. I know it's one of the smaller major parts, but would you like to read for it?”

I gasped. “That would be wonderful,” I said. As the youngest of Lear's three daughters, it was the obvious part for me to play.

“Excellent,” said Duncan. “It would fit in nicely after you return from the season of 'Romeo and Juliet' in Melbourne, speaking of which, there's one more project which I hope you'll be interested in; one of our major film studios is proposing to make another film of 'Romeo and Juliet', not a filmed stage version, but a proper film with the exteriors and some if not all interiors shot in Italy. I know there have been more than thirty filmed versions of the play, but they still feel there's a market for a new one, especially since the stage productions featuring you and Richard have been so successful. Keep this under your hat, for now, not all proposed film projects come to fruition, but if it does, they want you and Richard Jenkins to play the title rôles.”

I was stunned by all these projects coming up. “When would they shoot it?” I asked.

“It could be a year off, even longer, one never quite knows with films. Even when they are announced they still sometimes don't get off the ground, financing falls through, that sort of thing.”

'Goodness me. If I felt the weight of responsibility in Florida, that will be nothing compared to a film that would cost some millions of pounds to produce and is relying partly on me for its success,' I thought.

Out loud I said “Well I would be very interested in that, particularly if I get the chance to act with Richard again. I hope they don't take too long making up their minds or I will definitely look too old for the part.”

Duncan smiled. “You two certainly had great chemistry,” he said, and stupidly I found myself blushing. Richard and I had history of course, but he didn't know that, and anyway it was before I got married. If Duncan noticed, he was too diplomatic to say anything.

“Well, it's been good to see you again Harriet. I understand you are starting rehearsals for 'The Taming of the Shrew' tomorrow, so I won't keep you, but I wanted to get you up to speed on what is happening, or at least, what we hope will be happening.”

My interview was obviously at an end, so I stood up. “Thank you, Mr Duncan. I will, of course, keep quiet about the proposed film.”

Duncan stood up too and smiled. “Well I hope it happens, it will be a feather in our caps and give you the international recognition you richly deserve. You can tell your husband of course, but impress on him the need to keep quiet about it.”

I smiled and left his office. I was thrilled to have all this work coming up. One thing an actor can never rely on is a constant supply of work. Perhaps the only exception is someone acting in one of the American television soaps which seem to go on forever, but who would want to get stuck in one of those?

I walked to my car and drove back to the flat. It was no surprise to me when I was met at the door by Frances. She was wearing a pretty cotton dress, stockings and heels; her makeup was perfect and her hair brushed until it shone. She now wore red nail polish which matched the colour of her lipstick. I was very impressed.

“Hi, Frances, you look gorgeous!” I exclaimed.

Frances beamed and also blushed. “Do you really think so?” she asked.

“I really do; is Dale taking you out tonight?”

Frances laughed. “No, this is just a practice run for me, I wanted to get your opinion of how passable I looked.”

“Quite honestly, you look amazing. In fact, you're dressed exactly how a young woman would dress to go out on a date, or a night out with her husband. I think you should ring Dale and suggest he does just that.”

“That sounds wonderful but would you come with us? I still feel a bit nervous about going out as a woman.”

“Well, so long as it doesn't look like I'm 'playing gooseberry'? Alright, I'll ring Dale if you like, and I'll even make it my treat.”

I rang Dale and explained that two very pretty women were waiting to be taken out to dinner that evening and only needed a handsome man to escort them.

“Hmm. Who would they be?” asked Dale. Two can play that game.

“Well I was offering to pay for three people, but if you're not interested, we'll just have to go on our own. It's not the nineteenth century after all.”

Dale conceded defeat. “I can be there in an hour, is that alright?”

“Fine, I'll book a table now.”

I rang 'The Opposition' restaurant, or 'Oppos' to those familiar with it, which includes many in the theatrical world because it it located quite close to our main theatre. It also had the advantage of them knowing me quite well by now, so when I rang and spoke to the receptionist she immediately said: “Certainly, Miss Stow, I'll book you a table for three at seven o'clock.”

While we waited for Dale, Frances said to me “I know I've dressed appropriately for going out tonight, but can you give me some advice on the sort of clothes I should normally wear and not stand out in the crowd?”

“Well, I suppose the most obvious advice is to look at what other young women are wearing and copy them. Unfortunately, not so many are wearing skirts and dresses during the day, which I'm sure you would prefer to wear. Many women dress for comfort rather than style, and wear jeans or trousers, though why they want to copy men beats me. One exception is the classic business suit which is often a charcoal grey knee-length skirt and a jacket over a white silk blouse. You can wear that with stockings and low heels, maybe three inches at most, and people will just take you for a businesswoman, which of course you are. Daytime makeup is toned down from what you are wearing now, but you don't need me to tell you that. I'm very impressed with your makeup skills, where did you learn them?”

Frances blushed; I hadn't seen her do that much while she was Frank, but it seemed to come rather naturally now. “I went to a Transformation Service miles from here and explained what I was about to do, and they gave me lessons. I'm glad you think I've learned to do makeup well.

“I notice that you wear skirts or dresses almost all the time, even though, as you say, it might make you stand out in a crowd. Can you tell me why that is, please?”

“I transitioned so long ago that no-one is going to think that I mightn't be a woman; I also have the advantage of being an actress which means that I have to dress up because that's how the public expects me to be.”

Frances smiled. “Yes, that makes sense. I hope you didn't think I was being rude asking you that?”

“Not at all. After what I said about the way young women dress, you could say I'm the exception that proves the rule!”

Frances sighed. “You know, my favourite era was back in the fifties and sixties before I was born of course but when you see films of that era, all the women are wearing skirts and dresses with masses of petticoats. They all wore corsets and slips, stockings, not tights, and high heels. Most of them wore their hair long. They looked so feminine.” She sounded a bit wistful. She was right of course, but fashions change and women's wardrobes have to change with them.

“I'd better go and check my makeup before Dale wants to use the bathroom,” she said. I nearly commented that she didn't need to do a thing to it since it looked perfect, but realised in time that she wanted an excuse to check how she looked and make minor adjustments, so I said nothing. For 'new women', everything feminine is a great pleasure.

Dale was as good as his word and arrived within the hour. “Goodness me! You weren't wrong about the two pretty ladies. I was thinking of wearing my jeans and a tee shirt, but I think I'd better put on a suit.”

“That's a very good idea,” I said, and Frances and I both laughed.

“Give me fifteen minutes,” said Dale as he hurried into their bedroom.

Men have a certain advantage over women in that their wardrobes are quite restricted. I happened to know that Dale had two suits, so he didn't have to take much time in choosing one. Compare this to a woman who opens her wardrobe and has twenty or more dresses to chose from. It's no wonder she takes longer to dress. In addition, while men may need to shave their faces, they certainly don't need to shave elsewhere. They only have to run a brush through their hair and don't have makeup to think about. It was no wonder that Dale appeared at the doorway in fifteen minutes flat, in his suit, hair brushed, black shoes gleaming.

“Right, ladies, shall we go?” He had his Jaguar parked outside, so Frances and I sat in the back like two ladies being driven by a chauffeur.

'Oppos' was busy as usual, but we had a very nice table reserved for us and I think we caused a bit of a stir as we entered the dining room. The meal was excellent, as it always is, so there is really no need for me to describe it. We enjoyed catching up after my trip away, and Frances and Dale wanted to know all about my trip to America.

“They really see you as a star over there,” said Frances.

“Maybe, but I don't see myself as one,” I replied. “I still have so much to learn from the real stars that I'm privileged to perform with, people like Dame Emily and Sir John Richardson to name just a couple. It seems I'm going to be performing with him in 'King Lear' in about six months.”

I took pains to divert the conversation to what Dale and Frances had been doing, instead of having it all about me.

Dale's big news was that his father was very unwell and as a result, he had asked Dale to officially take over the business. Dale had been doing most of its running and organising for some time, so this was really only making officially what was already happening.

Frances's big news I'd already discussed with her and it really wasn't a topic to discuss in a restaurant in case someone overheard her. As Frank, she had a light tenor voice, and she was already sounding quite like a woman, but she still had work to do in that area.

What I will mention is something that happened as we were drinking our coffee towards the conclusion of the meal. A tall distinguished looking gentleman came up to our table.

“Excuse me interrupting you; my name is Cyrus Oppenheimer and I'm from the States,” he said. “My wife is convinced you are the Miss Harriet Stow we saw in a brilliant performance of 'Romeo and Juliet' in Florida a few weeks back.”

I agreed that I was indeed Harriet Stow.

“It was a truly great performance, absolutely mesmerising. Might I inquire if we will have the opportunity to see you perform while we are here?”

“I'm just about to start rehearsals for 'The Taming of the Shrew', but the season doesn't start for another three weeks,” I said. “Will you still be in England then?”

“We're due to leave England and spend a week in France before going on to Italy, but maybe we could fly back for a day; when you live in the States, everywhere here seems very close together,” he replied.

“The Company is currently performing 'A Winter's Tale' and 'Two Gentlemen of Verona',” I said. “I'm not performing in either of those. However, the box office is already open for 'The Shrew' if you wish to book tickets.”

“I'l speak to my wife,” Cyrus replied. “I think seeing you perform again would be the icing on the cake of our trip. Might I ask which rôle you are playing?”

“It's 'Katherine', the 'shrew' of the play,” I replied with a smile. “It will be a pleasure to play in a comedy for a change”

“In that case, we really must come back to see you perform, My apologies again for interrupting your meal,” he said, smiling at all three of us.

After he was out of earshot, Dale said: “ I don't know how you can be so nice to people when they invade your privacy like that.”

“It comes with the territory,” I replied. “He and many other people pay my wages, so it would be foolish to insult them; they would tell all their friends who would tell all of theirs. As it is, he will now give a good report of me and maybe those friends will buy some tickets to see me perform. Lest that sounds cynical, I confess I do still find it very flattering that people recognise me. It's not like I'm internationally famous.”

Dale laughed. “Well, I think he's an even bigger fan of yours than before he came over to speak to you.”

We didn't stay too long in the restaurant. While I had promised to pay, there is still an expectation that if there is a man present, he will be the one to pick up the bill, so it was placed in front of Dale. After checking the amount, I discreetly slipped him the money to cover the bill and the expected tip.

Then we headed back to the apartment, as all three of us had to work the next day.

To be continued.

Chapter 47   Rehearsals begin and a problem develops

Before I went to bed I phoned Reggie as I did without fail every day that I was away and I brought him up to date with the day's events. He accepted the news about Frank now being Frances without comment.

“You don't seem very surprised,” I said.

“Well, it was so obvious. Are you telling me I saw something in her that you didn't see?” he replied.

I was a bit put out. Women are supposed to be more attuned to such things than men, but then Reggie wasn't an ordinary man.

“I've seen her dressed as a woman before, but I thought she was doing it for a bit of fun, and she did look very pretty I must say.”

“Perhaps you are too close to her to see what was staring you in the face?” he said.

It seems he had a point. “Well, you'll be in no doubt that she is Frances when you see her next. She's a very pretty woman; I'll have to take care not to become jealous of her!”

Reggie laughed. “That's women for you, always competing with one another.”

I decided to change the subject and told him the top secret news about the possible film of 'Romeo and Juliet'.

“That's great news. It's about time you were in a film and became known internationally.”

“The only thing is it might not happen for years. In fact, by the time they make it I might be so old I'll have to play Juliet's mother or nurse!”

“Oh, I don't know, they can work wonders with makeup nowadays,” he replied.

“Reginald Staunton, are you suggesting that I only look young because of makeup?” I said outraged, my voice going up a couple of octaves by the end of the sentence.

He laughed: “You're so easy to tease. My darling, you will still look like a teenager for many years to come, and people will still think that I'm a 'cradle-snatcher'.”

We finished our conversation and he said several things which I'm not going to repeat here, but which made me realise how much I missed him every time I went away, it was time for me to go to my lonely bed, promising myself I was going to wear him out the next time we were together.

The following morning I was up early. I confess I was curious to see how Frances looked when dressed to go to the accountancy firm where she worked. She was wearing a trouser suit in charcoal grey, with a white cotton shirt and a padded bra which gave her the look of A cup breasts. I caught a glimpse of black hose and her shoes were black closed toe pumps with a tiny heel. Her makeup was very subtle, just light foundation and lipstick which was very pale pink, about normal lip colour. Her hair, which was now growing quite long was tied up in a pony tail.

She looked at me as though saying 'How do I look?' and I gave her a smile of approval and a 'thumbs up' sign. At the time of their marriage, Frank, as Frances was then, had decided to adopt Dale's surname of Swenson, so now she referred to herself as Mrs Swenson.

We all made our own breakfasts and then Dale gave Frances a quick kiss on the lips, as he had always done when she was Frank and headed off for work. In turn, Frances and I left for work, she to the accountants, and me to the theatre.

I arrived about nine-thirty, early for the first rehearsal which was due to start at ten o'clock. Chairs for all the cast had been arranged in a semi-circle on the stage. I was one of the first there. Gradually the cast drifted in; I knew some of them and exchanged greetings, but some of the cast were new to me. I was amused to find that they all seemed to know my name.

At ten o'clock precisely, Gwynneth, the Artistic Director appeared with a young woman she introduced as Ceridwen Thomas, the play's director. With a name like that she had to be Welsh! It was at that moment that a young woman with flaming red hair and sharpish features rushed onto the stage and sat down on the only free seat which happened to be next to me. If Gwynneth and Cerdiwen were annoyed, they didn't show it.

Ceridwen said she was so pleased to be directing this production, and since some of the cast didn't know each other and she wasn't familiar with everyone, we would start by her calling out our names one by one, at which point we were asked to stand so that everyone knew who we were and what part we were playing. As each person stood and we were told where they had come from, there was a smattering of applause. When it came to my turn, Ceridwen announced that I had just returned from a sellout season playing Juliet in America. In a way, I wished that she hadn't since it would raise everyone's expectations. It turned out that the young redhead was called Pauline Handscomb, she originated from Australia and she was to be my understudy.

Gwynneth left the stage and Ceridwen said she would like to do a read-through before we got down to rehearsals, but first she would like to speak about her interpretation of the play.

“A lot of people see this as a difficult play to view in modern times, even going so far as to say it proves that Shakespeare was a misogynist, but I think we have to view it in terms of the time in which it was written. In those days, women were expected to be subservient to men and the idea of 'women's liberation' would have been totally foreign to them. Don't forget that there was no law that said women couldn't appear on the stage, but in fact, they didn't and all the female rôles were played by boys or young men. This may well have been because no man would like the idea of his wife or sweetheart being ogled by other men as she acted on a stage.

“The principal character, Katherine is an exception to the rule of women being subservient, she is wilful, smart and therefore termed 'shrewish'. When Petruchio meets her and tries to best her in words, she gives back as good as she gets. After she realises that he is her equal and agrees to marry him, he tries to tame her by refusing her food and clothing, claiming that everything he offers is not good enough for her.

“Katherine's apparent complete change of heart at the end of the play and particularly the long speech in which she states the duties of a wife:

'Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign, one that cares for thee
I am ashamed that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey

This is troubling to some modern audiences, but many people, myself included think that she is only pretending wifely compliance in an 'over the top' speech. Whether Petruccio takes her at her word or they have conspired so that he wins a wager, is a matter for conjecture, but there is little doubt that at the end of the play they love each other, so this is the way I chose to interpret it. That, of course, is the wonderful thing about Shakespeare – his plays are so nuanced that they can be interpreted in many different ways.”

I was impressed with her interpretation which matched my own feelings about the play. You could say that Shakespeare was actually implying that women are cleverer than men when it comes to human relationships. While we know that to be true, to say so in Shakespeare's time was so outrageous that he disguised it; that is his genius.

We had each been issued with a copy of the script, or 'the book' as it is usually called. I knew my part already, in fact I knew the entire text of the play, but I didn't want to appear superior to the others, so I opened the script and followed it while the reading was taking place. During the read-through, the understudies couldn't take part, but they would be getting their chance on another occasion. I noticed that Pauline uttered barely supressed expressions of criticism, normally written as 'tsk' when someone stumbled over their words, something she had no cause to do when I read my part, anyway I don't think she would have dared!

We ran through the first three acts and then Ceridwen said we would break for lunch. Most of us went to the theatre café. I decided that rather than sit with the cast members I knew, I should sit with some of the newcomers and try to make them feel at home.

“Hi everyone, I'm Harriet. How are you finding Stratford?” I asked.

“It's just amazing to be in Shakespeare's birthplace and acting in one of his plays,” replied John, who was playing the part of Lucentio.

“I understand how you feel because I felt the same way when I first arrived in Stratford, and to a degree I still feel it,” I said.

“You are one of the company's top performers now, can you give us some advice on the most important things to remember in acting?” asked Susan who had been made understudy for the part of 'Bianca'.

I smiled. “I don't know about a 'top performer' since I am still learning my craft from actors much more experienced than I, but at the risk of sounding flippant, I can only quote these basic rules which were given to me by a very famous actress I know. She said 'work hard, know your lines and always be on time'.”

“I guess that's a black mark against my name,” said a voice behind me in a bitter tone and turning I saw Pauline standng there.

“You were only a couple of minutes late and I don't think doing it once at rehearsal, is going to be held against you,” I said mildly. “However this is an occupation where promptness is important. If we are late for a performance it will be delayed which audiences don't like, and neither does the director because it doesn't look professional. If we are very late then the understudy might have to step in.” This might have sounded like a rebuke but it was something I felt strongly about.

“If you're a big enough star, they just have to wait for you,” said Pauline.

“Maybe, but it won't endear you to them. I'm reminded of that saying by King Lous XVIII of France 'Punctuality is the politeness of kings' We show respect for our audiences by being there when we say we will be.”

Pauline sniffed. I don't think she entirely agreed with me.

It was time to return to the theatre for the last two acts. These passed without incident and Ceridwen expressed her satisfaction with the first run through.

“We'll finish now, even though it's early and you can all be fresh for the first rehearsal tomorrow, starting at nine-thirty,” she said. I hoped Pauline had taken note of the earlier time.

That evening when I spoke to Reggie I told him about my concerns.

“I'm sure Pauline's a good actress or she would never have got the understudy position, but there's just something about her that I can't warm to. I've never had that problem with understudies before.”

“Just make sure she doesn't spike your drink so she can take over the part,” said Reggie. He was joking, but for some reason, I couldn't see the humour in his remark. I told myself that I might be worrying over nothing and that my best option was to get a good night's sleep so that I was fresh for the rehearsal the following day.

The next morning over the breakfast table, Frances asked how things had gone on the first day. She was an avid theatre lover and having someone like myself as a flatmate was seventh heaven for her. I did my best to sound upbeat, but even a good night's sleep hadn't totally washed all my worries away; Frances was smart enough to see this.

“Is something worrying you, Harriet?” she asked.

“Not really, well yes,” I decided to be honest. “There's something about my understudy which disturbs me. I might be worrying over nothing; only time will tell.”

“You'd better tell her to break a leg and mean it,” said Dale who had come into the kitchen and caught the conversation. I managed a smile. He was the second man to imply that I was being a silly woman and worrying over nothing, but I have always been a believer in 'female intuition' and wasnt convinced that I was worrying over nothing.

At the theatre everyone was on time, including Pauline. The understudies sat in the stalls while we rehearsed onstage. They would get their turn in a couple of days' time. Before we started, Ceridwen said she would like everyone to be 'off book' as soon as possible. I decided that while I held onto the book for making notes, I needn't pretend any longer that I needed it. I immediately warmed to her style of direction; she didn't constantly stop us over trivial errors, preferring to let the action flow. After all, that is what happens during a performance if someone makes a mistake. When one of the other actors had a momentary 'dry', I gave them a quiet prompt. I thought Ceridwen didn't notice, but later when we had a break, she took the opportunity to have a word with me.

“I see you are 'off book' already, but would I be mistaken in thinking that you know the whole script?” she asked. I felt slightly embarrassed.

“Well, yes, I've been blessed with a very good memory, but I can't claim credit for it, any more than John can for being six feet tall.”

She laughed. “Well I have no objection to having an extra prompter on stage,” she said.

I was pleased that she was so understanding.

It was a couple of days later that there was a rehearsal for the understudies. I didn't have to be there but I decided that I would see what Pauline's acting was like, so I quietly slipped into a back seat in the stalls where I wouldn't be noticed.. As I suspected, she was good, but when Ceridwen pulled her up over something, she barely concealed her irritation. 'Not a good move' I thought to myself.

One bonus about the rehearsal period was that we had weekends off. For the first one, Reggie came to Stratford. Frances was a little concerned about seeing him but I told her not to worry. As I predicted, when he arrived he said “Hello Frances, it's good to see you,” and kissed her on the cheek. She blushed but smiled at the same time, and there was no awkwardness between them. Indeed why should there be when he was married to me and had seen me in both of my 'lives'? Reggie just accepted her in how she chose to present herself.

It was wonderful to spend time with Reggie again. He asked me how rehearsals were going and especially about Pauline.

“I'm sure I can cope with her, after all the season doesn't go on forever,” I replied.

The following weekend I drove to York which had the advantage that we could visit Emma, David and their family.

--ooOoo---

Time passed quickly and soon it was Opening Night. Reggie had come down from York to see me perform and Dale and Frances were also present. They all came to my dressing room after the performance. Frances was wearing a beautiful green silk gown that I hadn't seen before and was looking really glamorous with full evening makeup. I had changed into a blue and purple shot silk gown; Dale wore a dinner suit to compliment his wife's appearance, and not to be outdone, Reggie did too. Pauline had gone home towards the end of the last act when it was obvious that she would not be required. I expected this to happen and in a way, I was glad she wasn't there. There was a risk that she might have realised that Frances was trans, and it would be too much to hope for that she would keep her mouth shut.

To finish off the evening, we had supper at 'Oppos', and I think we caused quite a sensation when we arrived. We hadn't been there long when Annette Clunes, a photographer and reporter for the local newspaper arrived. I knew her from the times she came to the theatre to take publicity shots and other pictures to accompany the play reviews, so seeing me she came straight over to our table. I introduced her to Reggie, Frances and Dale and she asked if she could take some pictures. The others were happy with the idea so I agreed.

“You were in top form this evening, Harriet,” Annette said. “That look you gave the audience at the end of your closing speech, it spoke volumes to every woman in the audience.”

I laughed. “It sounds like I calculated it just right.”

“Without a doubt,” Annette responded.

One of the photos she took appeared in the next issue of the paper, under the heading “ISC Star Sparkles as Katherine in “The Shrew”.

The article beneath the photo which was captioned with our names, was as follows:

“Rising Imperial Theatre Company star Harriet Stow enjoys supper with her husband and friends following a sensational performance in the opening night of “The Taming of the Shrew”. Taking the lead rôle of Katherine, Harriet sparkled as the feisty heroine and perfectly handled the dramatic conclusion of the play which still has audiences divided, four hundred years after Shakespeare wrote it.”

It was a very flattering report, almost a review of the play, and I was glad that she did not include a 'spoiler' at the end; after all, some people have not seen it.

I admit I was very pleased with the way the performance went, and the official reviews were excellent. Michael Abel, who played my husband Petruchio received well-deserved compliments, as did the rest of the company. Some very nice things were written about my part in the production and that is always good to see. As usual, I cut the reviews out of the newspapers and, together with Annette's picture and article, posted them up to Emma to put in my scrapbooks.

Reviews are important as they have a definite effect on the ticket sales, and when those are good, everyone is happy, including the company's accountants.

The season went well and we were playing to almost full houses. I could tell that Pauline was becoming increasingly frustrated at having to sit in the dressing room during each performance. The fact that there was a monitor on the wall showing the action onstage probably didn't help as it was a constant reminder that I was performing and she wasn't.

I did speak to Ceridwen and suggested that perhaps Pauline could perform in one of the matinées, but her reply was that audiences expected to see me in the rôle and that Pauline was only there in case I couldn't perform for some reason. It was her call, so there was nothing more that I could do.

From my point of view, everything was going well, perhaps too well, since it was during the third Saturday evening performance that one of the most bizarre moments of my career occurred.

To be continued.

Chapter 48   A narrow escape

During performances, it was my custom to have a sandwich, sweet biscuit and a cup of tea delivered to the dressing room during the interval in order to give me an energy boost before tackling the second half of the play. It was waiting for me as usual so after greeting Pauline who was reading a novel but seemed a bit on edge, I sat down and consumed them. When I finished my cup of tea, it was ten minutes before the start of the next act. I stood up and suddenly the room started to spin and I sat down suddenly.

“Are you alright, Harriet?” said Pauline, and she sounded genuinely concerned.

“I think I must have stood up too suddenly,” I replied. “I'll give myself a couple of minutes and I should be alright by then.”

I wondered if the sugar hit had affected me, although it had never done so before. After a few minutes I stood up cautiously and for a moment felt that everything was alright, but then the room started spinning again and I felt even worse than before. I gingerly lowered myself onto the chair and started to feel nauseous.

“What's the matter, Harriet?” said Pauline and her voice sounded strange, like it was echoing in a tunnel.

“I don't know. I don't feel well, can you get me a bowl, please? I think I'm going to be sick,” I managed to say. “And can you ring Don the Stage Manager? I don't think I can go on.”

Pauline did as I asked and a couple of minutes later, Don appeared. When he saw me he looked very concerned. “What's the matter, Harriet?” he asked, echoing Pauline.

“I don't know. I feel terrible. I need to lie down,” I managed to get out. There was a couch in the corner of the dressing room and he and Pauline helped me to walk over to it and I lay down, my head still spinning. I was clutching the bowl but didn't vomit, although it might have been better if I had done so.

Don glanced at his watch. “The next act is due to start, I think you will have to take over, Pauline,” he said.

“Yes Don, I think I'll have to, but Harriet needs a doctor, don't you think?” said Pauline.

What happened from then on is very vague, so I've had to rely on accounts given to me by other people. By now, news of my illness had spread like wildfire and several of the women in the cast and the dressers had appeared. Shortly afterwards Gwynneth also arrived. Don left me with them while he hurried to the auditorium to make an announcement from the stage that the next act would be delayed due to the illness of a cast member. He concluded with those immortal words 'Is there a doctor in the house?' Fortunately for me, there was. A young woman stood up and Don asked her to meet him at the front of the stage. She introduced herself as Dr Jane Dunn, a local GP and Don led her to my dressing room.

I was only vaguely aware of someone holding my wrist, taking my pulse and then, making use of a stethoscope which the Props Department thoughtfully supplied, she checked my heart. We didn't have a sphygmomanometer in the theatre, so she couldn't take my blood pressure.

“Does she ever take drugs?” she asked.

“Certainly not!” exclaimed Don. “I've known her for years and she's absolutely not into that scene.”

“I only asked because she appears to have suffered a drug overdose. I suggest you call an ambulance and tell them it's urgent.”

Meanwhile, Pauline was behind a screen putting on her costume, and one of the makeup artists helped her to get ready; the show must go on. Don went back on the stage to tell the audience that due to illness I could no longer perform and that Miss Pauline Handscomb would take over the rôle of Katherine for the rest of the performance. I can imagine that would have caused a stir.

Meanwhile, some of the women helped me to take off my costume. In fact, they really did it all, as by now I was close to unconscious. They managed to get my dressing gown on just before the ambulance arrived a few minutes later and parked outside the Stage Door. The paramedics brought in a trolley and Dr Jane told them of her suspected diagnosis. By now my heart rate was dangerously low and my blood pressure dropping so in consultation with Dr Dunn, they gave me an injection of adrenaline before loading me onto the trolley and taking me to the ambulance.

Unfortunately, Stratford Hospital does not have an Emergency Department, the nearest one being at Warwick. Dr Dunn kindly offered to come with me and soon the ambulance was on its way, siren blaring and lights flashing. At normal speeds, the trip would take around twenty minutes, but the ambulance made it in less than fifteen. The doctor and the paramedic called Jane kept a close watch on me, giving me oxygen and monitoring my vital signs as the ambulance raced along the road.

When we arrived at the hospital, I was wheeled into a cubicle and subjected to the indignity of having my stomach pumped out, although I was now unconscious so totally unaware of the treatment being given to me. I was also put onto a drip and a respirator. I hate to think what I must have looked like.

It was some hours later that I opened my eyes and realised that someone was holding my hand. Turning I saw Reggie sitting by the bed.

“Hello darling, welcome back,” he said, his voice choking with emotion, and his cheeks wet with tears.

As my mouth was still covered by a respirator mask, he had to lean forward to hear my response. “Why, where have I been?”

Reggie managed a smile, but I saw another tear roll down his cheek. “Having sweet dreams, I hope,” he replied.

Another figure appeared, this time wearing a white coat.

“I'm Doctor Norton and I'm glad to see you are awake, Mrs Staunton,” he said. “I'm removing your mask for a minute so that I can talk to you. I understand you are an actress in Stratford and it seems you took an overdose of sedatives. I'm assured that you wouldn't have done this deliberately, so I'd like to ask what you can remember of when you first started to feel ill.”

It was starting to come back to me, so I described how I had my tea, sandwich and biscuit as usual and then felt disorientated and nauseous.

“I don't remember much after that,” I said.

“I'm trying to work out where the sedative came from. Did your tea taste funny?” he asked.

“Now you mention it, it did, but I thought they had given me Earl Grey instead of English Breakfast, and there wasn't time to ask for another cup, so I drank it. But how on earth did sedative get into it?”

“I'm a doctor, not a policeman,” he said, which made me realised that he thought someone had deliberately set out to poison me, but why?

My brain was kicking into gear and with it I started to have concerns.

“I do hope that my presence here is kept from the press. I would hate to be the subject of a sensational and totally untrue story,” I said. I had visions of a front-page headline in one of the tabloids saying something like 'FAMOUS ACTRESS IN DRUG OVERDOSE', followed by a piece of pure fiction implying a feud between me and some other actress. The problem with tabloids is that they will do anything for a story and truth is an optional extra. If they are finally caught out, their apology, if it happens at all, will be a small paragraph buried away on page forty, just enough to avoid being sued.

“You need have no worries on that score,” said Dr Norton. “Patient confidentiality is impressed on all our staff.”

I confess that didn't totally allay my fears; an anonymous tipoff for a discreet payment might result in a reporter and photographer waiting for me at the hospital's entrance.

“Am I well enough to leave while it's still dark?” I asked.

“I'd prefer you to stay for some hours at least, maybe a day, so that we can be sure you are over the effects of the drug,” he said.

I could see the sense in what he said so I didn't argue. The clock on the wall said three o'clock, so I said “Perhaps I could leave about five o'clock if you think I'm alright. At least it will still be dark then. My husband can drive me.”

Dr Norton looked doubtful, but finally agreed, if only to get my mask on again and stop me getting agitated, I suspect. In the end, when five o'clock came, he felt that I shouldn't leave and I had to agree with him as I still didn't feel well; at least I was moved to a single room where I could have privacy. One advantage was that I had been admitted under my married name, so that lessened the chance of anyone realising who I was. We came to an agreement that I would stay until Sunday evening and then leave by a rear door of the hospital, 'just in case'. This might sound like I was getting paranoid, but it wasn't just my reputation that I was protecting but also that of the Company.

On Sunday morning there was a telephone call from Duncan Morgan to enquire how I was recovering. Reggie took it and reassured him that I was much better. Sensibly he didn't ask for any more details but said he would like to see me as soon as I returned to Stratford and felt well enough to come to the theatre.

It was about then that I realised that I didn't have my handbag. It contained my car keys, phone, purse and cards so I felt rather concerned. Gwynneth had given me her mobile number in case of emergencies, so I thought I was justified in ringing her. She was very pleased to hear from me and also that I was feeling a lot better. I was relieved when she told me that my handbag was locked up in the theatre's safe.

“I must tell you, Harriet, that when we heard from the doctor that you had taken a drug overdose, I contacted Duncan and after he arrived, we searched the dressing room while Pauline was onstage, including her handbag and yours, but we found nothing. Unfortunately, someone had taken your cup back to the kitchen and it had been washed, so it couldn't be checked.”

After she rang off, I phoned Dale to tell him what had happened. He and Frances were worried sick when I didn't come home, but by the time they phoned the theatre, everyone had gone home. They had even phoned the local hospital, but of course, they knew nothing.

Reggie and I whiled away the day chatting and watching daytime television after I was taken off the respirator. He went to the hospital cafeteria for meals while I ate the food provided, which I have to say was much better than I expected. Hospital food has a bad reputation which is not always deserved.

Partway through the day, I was taken off the drip as my regular 'obs' were back to normal. In a rather 'cloak and dagger' operation which appealed to my theatrical spirit, at nine o'clock, when it was dark, I was formally discharged and led through a rabbit warren of passages, through the kitchens and out into a parking lot where Reggie had his car waiting for me. Having arrived at the hospital in my underwear and a theatre dressing gown, that is the way I left. Naturally enough, when Reggie was contacted with the news about me, the last thing on his mind would have been to bring me any clothes. There was no sign of any reporters or photographers, thank goodness.

We drove back to Stratford without incident. Dale and Frances were naturally very pleased to see me arrive back at the apartment. They were kind enough not to pester me with questions and understood when I expressed a desire just to go to bed.

The following morning, after a good night's sleep, something which is very hard to achieve in hospital, Reggie asked me if he should stay for another day, but I assured him that I would be alright. I knew that I would have to have the meeting with the theatre administration that Duncan Morgan had requested after what had happened, so after breakfast, Reggie drove me to the theatre and then headed off to York.

I walked up to the Administration area and Penny greeted me. “Harriet, how are you feeling?”

“A lot better than I did on Saturday night, Penny; that was really scary.”

“I'll let Duncan know you're here and call Gwynneth,” she said, and after a brief conversation with him, she made the call and said, “She'll be here in a minute.”

After Gwynneth arrived, I was ushered into Duncan's office.

“How are you feeling, Harriet?” he asked, standing up as I entered the room and I replied that I was much better. He, Gwynneth and I settled into comfortable chairs.

He looked rather uncomfortable. “I'm sorry, but there's a question I have to ask; have you ever taken sedatives or recreational drugs?”

I was expecting this, so I didn't bristle, but just quietly answered that I'd never taken either.

“I thought as much, but I had to ask. I hope you understand?”

“Of course I do,” I replied. “It's a mystery to me how I happened to take the sedative. The doctor at the hospital thinks it was in my tea at Interval.”

“I don't suppose you have any idea who put it there?”

“No idea at all,” I replied, which wasn't strictly true. I had been reminded of Reggie's joke about Pauline spiking my drink. What if she had? But I had no proof and couldn't accuse her without it.

“We've spoken to the staff in the cafeteria kitchen who prepared the tea and food. We just told them you had food poisoning, which is true, but not about the sedative. They said they did nothing different to their normal routine; we also spoke to Pauline and of course, she professed total ignorance. She said she had been so bored that she had walked around backstage for a while before the Interval, and when she came back to the dressing room a few minutes before you arrived, the food and drink were already there. We didn't want to make a big thing about it in case it gets in the papers. A reporter rang and said he had heard about you not completing the show, but we told them you'd had a stomach upset, so it was a 'non-story'.

“One thing we did do, as Gwynneth told you, was search the dressing room and your handbags, which reminds me, here it is. I hope you don't mind that we searched it, we had to exclude all possibilities.”

He looked hard at me. “I know there is no proof, but do you think it's possible that Pauline was responsible?”

“All I can say is that she has become increasingly irritable about not getting a chance to perform. I think she believes it is a waste of her talent. I suppose that incapacitating me would have been one way of achieving it, but it's a very extreme action to take, so I wouldn't like to accuse her without any proof. Even if she did do it, she might not have intended it to affect me so badly.”

Gwynneth spoke now. “Harriet did suggest that I give Pauline a matinée, and I chose not to do it. I do regret offering her the understudy position, she's obviously not suited for it.”

“So what do you plan to do now?” I asked.

“You can still have your refreshments at Interval of course, but the kitchen supervisor will oversee their preparation, and they won't be delivered to your dressing room until you are there and ring for them. The alternative would be for you to bring your own food and your drink in a Thermos and have them locked away until you are ready for them. What do you think?”

“This might be a 'one-off'; after all, if it happened again, I assume you would have to bring in the police,” I replied. “I'm sure I can trust the kitchen, and I'm also sure I'll be alright to perform tonight.”

So that is how we left it. Before I left the office, I thought of something else.

“By the way, how did Pauline go in the second half of the performance?”

“She was quite good, but not nearly as good as you of course,” said Gwynneth.

That evening when I arrived in the dressing room, Pauline was already there. When she saw me she looked decidedly nervous, or was it guilty?

“Hello Harriet, how are you feeling?” she said.

I decided to give her a scare and see how she reacted. “I'm a lot better than I was last Saturday. I'm told it was touch and go whether they got me to the hospital in time. I'm very grateful to the doctor and paramedics for keeping me alive.”

Pauline looked shocked. “But the hospital is only five minutes down the road.”

“The Stratford hospital is, but they don't have an Emergency Department, so they had to take me to Warwick, that's about twenty minutes away.”

I noticed that Pauline was white as a sheet. “I never knew that,” she muttered.

“Anyway, 'all's well that ends well', as the Bard says. By the way, how did your performance go? I must thank you for stepping in for me.”

Pauline looked startled at my change of topic. “It went quite well, after all that's what understudies are for.”

I smiled. “I'll suggest to Gwynneth again that you get a complete performance. You realise it's not my decision, but I'll do my best for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking a bit sheepish.

There were no further incidents. Perhaps whoever it was, whether Pauline or someone else, realised that they had taken an enormous risk and could possibly have faced a manslaughter or murder charge.

Gwynneth decided that Pauline could be given a matinée. There was one coming up for local secondary school students who were studying the play for their exams. The irony was that a few days beforehand, Pauline caught a bad cold, losing her voice, so I had to perform after all.

She did finally perform a matinée just before the season ended, but Gwynneth privately told me that she would not employ her again. “She thinks she is better than she is,” she said.

I did hear that after failing to get any more work in England (word gets around), Pauline returned to Australia. After that, she seems to have dropped off the radar.

To be continued.

Author's note: My sincere thanks to my dear friend Alison whose suggestion provided the inspiration for this chapter.

Chapter 49   Dale's dilemma and an enjoyable flight.

I've been neglecting to mention other things going on besides my theatrical life. The Youth Theatre started by Dame Emily, Madge and myself was still going well, and when we held auditions for young aspiring performers to join, we were inundated with applications. We had acquired more teaching staff, since, with my own and Dame Emily's other commitments we were away a lot of the time, putting too much pressure on Madge.

After the school had been running for about nine months, we had persuaded the ISC management to allow us to put on a performance featuring the students when the theatre was free. Rather than a full play, we decided on scenes from a number of plays, both by Shakespeare other playwrights. In this way, we were able to showcase the talents of the students and give them the opportunity to experience performing on a large professional stage.

Naturally enough, with parents and various other relatives and friends coming along, the main theatre was nearly filled to capacity. This was good as even with a modest charge per seat, we were able to raise quite a lot of money. After paying the backstage crew, we had more funds for the various expenses of running the school. Dame Emily, Madge and I gave our services for free, but we had to pay some of the teaching staff who could not afford to work without payment. I was persuaded to introduce the show since Dame Emily was unavailable and I have to say it went very well. The teaching staff had already spotted some students with real potential and the main Company started to use them where possible in some of their productions. It really was a win-win situation.

I was still taking singing lessons from Madam Mussorgsky and in her opinion, I was making good progress. I had it in mind to try for a small part in a West End musical when I felt confident that I wouldn't be making a fool of myself. This had to take second place to my other stage commitments, particularly in Stratford. Also rapidly approaching was my trip to Melbourne, Australia to star in a season of 'Romeo and Juliet', very likely my final time playing this part unless the proposed film became a reality. As time went by this seemed less and less likely.

I didn't spend all my life on stage; I made sure to spend as much time as possible with Reggie and also visit Emma, David and family in Bridchester whenever I could. The Apollo Players where my career had started, was still going well, thanks to David's stewardship and I made a point of attending a performance of all their new productions. David seemed very appreciative of my comments on each production and I always tried to be positive even if as an established professional, I could sometimes see flaws. I was always diplomatic in pointing out anything that I thought could be improved, and David took on board my comments in the spirit in which they were intended and indeed welcomed them.

While the season of 'The Shrew' was in progress, I was staying five or six nights a week in the apartment in Stratford, and it soon became apparent to me that the dynamic of our trio living in the flat had changed since Frank had announced his intention to transition and become Frances. I was inevitably involved in these changes. It was natural for Frances to seek my advice and assistance as she started her journey of transition, and it would have seemed churlish of me to have refused it, especially since I had gone through the same process myself. She asked my advice on everything that would make her 'pass' convincingly as a woman and persuaded me to go clothes shopping with her so that she didn't make the mistakes many new trans-women make.

She was fortunate in that when made up and with her hair styled, she was a naturally pretty woman, and her light tenor voice as Frank morphed very convincingly into a woman's voice. When we were out shopping together, without appearing to do so, I carefully monitored the reactions of people around me, and apart from admiring glances from young and not so young men, there was nothing to suggest that anyone was 'reading' her. Frances noticed many of the admiring glances and blushed prettily in response to them. This got me thinking; as a gay man, she had been attracted to other young men, although once she was in a steady relationship with Dale, I'm sure she was never unfaithful to him. Now, as a woman, she was still attracted to men, which effectively meant she had changed from a gay man to a heterosexual young woman. Well, that's how I saw it.

I started to worry about how Dale was taking this change; he hadn't signed up to be married to a woman, and yet this was what was happening. For the time being, Frances was in the intermediate phase, not wholly man or woman, but she had made clear to me that she intended to take the full path of transition, including surgery. I felt that I needed to talk to Dale about it, but I didn't want to go behind Frances' back, so I told her what I intended to do.

I was a little taken aback when she said rather sharply “Well, of course, it's entirely up to you what you do, I can't stop you.”

She saw the look on my face and blushed hotly. “I'm sorry, Harriet, that didn't come out the way I intended. Of course you should talk to Dale, although I think you'll find that he's fine with the situation, he certainly hasn't indicated to me that there's a problem.”

I couldn't help thinking to myself that perhaps Dale, being the kind man he was, was concealing his true feelings for Frances's sake. I only stood a chance of finding out about his true feelings if I spoke to him alone, so this is what I arranged to do. I phoned him at work and arranged that we would have lunch together on a day when I didn't have a rehearsal or matinée, and it was a few days later that we sat together on the banks of the Avon sharing a picnic lunch which I had put together.

We chatted for a while about this and that and finally I took the plunge.

“I'm sure you've guessed why I asked to see you, Dale, and before I go on, you should know that Frances knows I've arranged to meet with you. I'm hoping you will be totally frank with me about your feelings for Frances, as she now wishes to be. Am I presuming too much upon our friendship to ask that?”

Dale sat staring at the water for nearly a minute, watching the ducks competing for bread thrown by a young mother and her excitable child before he began to talk.

“Harriet, when I first met Frank, I fell instantly in love with him, and it was the happiest day of my life when I proposed marriage to him and he said 'yes'. When the celebrant said 'I now proclaim you to be husband and husband', I felt that my happiness was complete. Of course, I knew right from the start that Frank was going to take on the rôle of 'wife' and I was the 'husband', but we were both fine with that. I also knew that from time to time he liked to dress as a woman for fun, and he did it so well that when we went out together, everyone must have thought we were a straight couple.

“To be honest with you, I just didn't see this coming and I don't think you did either?”

I nodded.

“So where to from here? I honestly don't know. I still love the person I married, no matter how that person dresses or is named. Because I love him...or her, I want what is best for her, and if in the end that means she will want to divorce me and marry a straight man, then that is the sacrifice I have to make to prove that my love is selfless and not selfish.”

He looked bereft as he spoke and I reached out and took his hand. The thought flashed through my mind that anyone seeing us would assume we were a straight couple in love and have no idea of the true circumstances.

“Dale, you are one of the nicest men I've ever met, and I'm proud to have you as a friend,” I said.

A tear coursed its way down his cheek. “Oh Harriet, I'm doing my best to stay upbeat and for Frances' sake, make out it's not affecting me, but I'm not an actor and sometimes it gets very hard.”

I looked at him very seriously. “You know I can't take sides, Dale, but I've known you for a long time now and I count you as one of my closest friends. I just hope that this situation can be sorted out and you will both come out of it living fulfilling and happy lives, although whether together or separately, I just don't know.”

Dale squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Harriet, you are one of my closest friends too, and I'm sure we will always remain that way.”

He suddenly glanced at his watch. “Goodness me, we've been gone over an hour, Pearl will have my guts for garters!”

Pearl was the bright young woman Dale had employed to handle the office side of the business when he took it over from his father and realised that he just couldn't manage everything by himself.

“Tell her you've been having lunch with a glamorous actress; that will really give her food for thought,” I said and was rewarded with a smile.

Naturally, I had discussed what was going on with Reggie, who is very wise. His reply was that there was nothing I could do about it, Dale and Frances would have to sort things out for themselves. “I know you are very fond of them both, Dale especially, As for what will happen, who knows? By the time you come back from Australia, they may have sorted things out.

Soon it was time for my trip to Melbourne. I don't know of anyone who really enjoys long-haul flights and the flight from London to the east coast of Australia is one of the longest. Still, there are ways of making it less of a marathon, and one of these is to travel First Class if you can afford it, and thankfully I could. There were a number of reasons why I chose to do this; for a start, the seats in the First Class cabin of the 747converted into beds which enabled passengers to get more rest than when having to sit more or less upright for the journey. In my case this was important because I would be starting rehearsals the day after I arrived and I didn't want to be suppressing yawns all the way through – it's not a good look! Travelling halfway around the world inevitably leads to jetlag, but this way I could minimise it.

I don't deny that sitting in a cabin with comparatively few fellow passengers gave me more privacy and as my face was starting to become better known, that was an advantage. The food was better quality too, and the pampering from the cabin staff was greatly superior to that given to Economy. In case it has occurred to my readers, yes, my travel costs were tax deductible since they were all part of the expenditure necessary for me to earn a living. Each performer is effectively a 'one-person business' so naturally, I employed an accountant to handle my financial affairs, and no, it wasn't Reggie! I was fastidious about paying my taxes, and Reggie agreed with me that if he had been involved, at some stage the tabloids might suggest that I was shafting the system.

One of the cabin staff showed me to my seat 3E in the centre of the cabin, with 3F adjacent to it. I do prefer a window seat but it seemed these had all been snapped up, mostly by 'captains of industry' from what I could see, who probably valued privacy while they worked away on their laptops. The centre seats are often booked by couples but I was on my own, so I was a little concerned to find out who would be occupying the adjacent seat. I hoped it would be a woman and my wish was granted. A young blonde woman was shown to the seat and immediately introduced herself as 'Amalie'. She really didn't need to tell me her name because even I recognised one of Australia's most famous pop stars who is so well-known that she doesn't even have to use her surname. I introduced myself with my full name, sure that she had never heard of me, but to my surprise, she looked curiously at me and asked if we had met before. This led to me telling her what I did for a living and why I was flying to Melbourne.

“This so cool!” she exclaimed. “I saw you in 'Romeo and Juliet' in Stratford; you were amazing.”

I felt my cheeks turn pink. “You're very kind,” I said. “I'm a great fan of your singing. Are you going on a concert tour in Australia?”

“Yes, I am, but it's also a chance to catch up with my family. They live in Melbourne you know? I spend so much time in London and other places, that its a real treat for us all to catch up whenever we can.”

“If it's not a rude question, how do you manage to go to the theatre and other places without all the paparazzi trailing after you?”

She laughed. “I'm a bit of an actress myself, though not in your league of course. I wear a brunette wig and dress down with minimal makeup. I've got away with it so far. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate what the media have done for me, but sometimes it's nice to just blend into the crowd. I'm sure you'll find that as your fame increases.”

I laughed too. “At present, almost all my work is in the theatres, so I'm still fairly low profile, but there is talk of a film and I'm guessing that would make me more easily recognised. I wonder if it's a good move?”

“Of course it is,” Amalie replied. “A relatively small number of people go to the theatre, but millions go to the cinema and also see films when they're released to television. You should let more people see how good you are; don't hide your light under a bushell.”

All this was very flattering of course, but I still had lingering doubts.

We really enjoyed sitting together for the flight to Melbourne; sometimes we chatted, sometimes we watched movies or listened to music and sometimes we slept. Having a flatbed to sleep on was certainly worth the extra money to me. Amalie exchanged mobile numbers with me and offered me a couple of tickets and backstage passes to her concert in Melbourne which, would be held while I was still rehearsing, which meant I'd have the evening free. I immediately thought of Aunt Peggy's daughter Flora who I guessed would be an Amalie fan and would love to accompany me to the concert. In return, I told Amalie that I could get her some tickets for 'Romeo and Juliet' if she thought she could get away with her disguise in her home town.

I remembered something I had read about Amalie visiting the Melbourne Children's Hospital without fanfare, and definitely without reporters and television cameras in tow, just to lift the children's spirits by talking and singing with them. It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps our youth theatre is Stratford could do something similar, putting on performances for children who were too sick to go to the theatre. I decided to discuss it with Dame Emily when I returned to England. She knew the right people and could make it happen if anyone could.

All too soon the plane was descending to land in Melbourne. Now that's not something you often say about a long-haul flight! Amalie and I attended to our ablutions, reapplied our makeup and changed our clothes, she to face the media who would be waiting to greet her, and me to look decent for the inspection of the theatre executives and play's director who would be waiting to meet me in Melbourne. With all the attention focussed on Amalie, I would be able to slip through un-noticed. That's exactly what happened, although, in one of her photos in a daily newspaper, I noticed myself in the background doing my 'low-key' exit!

To be continued.