He smiled nonchalantly. “Please, for all our sakes, decide what you want from her, before you act. Do you wish to be her lover, her friend, her colleague, her brother, her husband, what?” He leaned in, pointing a finger. “Seriously, Rory. Elly is not Peg, so be careful. I do not want her running away just because a love affair sours. So which do you prefer, coffee or tea?”
Rory took a moment, then smiled. "Coffee, thanks,"
*
That evening, Elly Fielding planned to look at the stage set for The Magistrate, then go into the stalls and watch the play. When she reached stage level, she heard laughter and saw backstage workers outside Katherine Stewart’s dressing room. She hid in the shadows, watching Katherine greet scene-shifters, costumers, and char women. Her honey blond hair was tied up in a stylish twist. Long sparkling earrings dangled against her cheeks and a matching necklace hugged her throat. A pale-blue silk dressing-gown wrapped gracefully, setting off her clear blue eyes. Her natural style stage makeup looked very beautiful, and very different from Lady Macbeth. She handed her dresser a brightly wrapped package. “Happy Birthday, Eileen. It’s from all of us.”
The older woman broke into a toothy grin and tore off the paper. Inside was a gilt framed photograph. “Oh, m’ gracious!” Tears filled her eyes and she wiped them away with the palm of her hand. “The kids are growin’ so fast. I been wantin’ a photo fer ever so long. Oh, Miss Katherine.” She threw herself in Katherine’s arms, then hugged the others.
*
Katherine saw Elly, nearly a silhouette in the shadows. The girl’s thin frame and long hair reminded her of herself at that age. I was always cold and hungry. Is she? “Hello, Miss Fielding.” Smiling warmly, she took Elly’s hand and pulled her into the light.
Elly smiled shyly. “Please call me Elly. You look so beautiful Miss Stewart, like a perfect china doll.”
Katherine laughed. “How sweet. Please come in.” She led Elly into her dressing room. It was the same size as Jeremy O’Connell’s, but decorated much more simply. A basket of shining apples stood invitingly. Katherine saw the girl’s hungry eyes. “Please help yourself. An admirer sent these, and we’ve got a whole bushel at home.” She sat at her dressing table, looked into the mirror, and checked her makeup.
Elly devoured an apple, while studying framed photographs hanging on the wall. One was a young man in black, holding a skull. The inscription read,
To Darling Kathy,
My first and only love.
Simon Camden
Elly was thrilled. “Oh my, I saw Simon Camden play Hamlet when I was little. Every summer, touring companies stopped near our village.” Her eyes were like saucers as she stared at another remarkable photograph. A slender young man, in a tight fitting white suit, gracefully lifted a beautiful woman high over his head. Her arms spread wide and they looked like a single graceful swan, ready for flight. “Is that Mr. Camden, as well?”
As she finished her lip rouge, Katherine watched Elly’s reflection in the mirror. “That is Simon and me. I was sixteen. He was twenty-one. We were the Stewart Swans, headliners, in Variety.”
“I didn’t know you were a dancer.”
“My entire life. I joined my family’s act as soon as I could walk. Please, have another apple. Come back after the show and take the basket to the boardinghouse. Just make sure you keep some for yourself. Please sit down.”
Elly tossed her apple core into a dust bin and perched on the edge of a chair. “You’re so kind. Everyone will be very grateful.”
“You obviously survived your first night at Mrs. Potter’s.”
Elly nodded sheepishly. “I was so afraid, but Miss O’Mally and Miss Lamoor weren’t there. Mr. Reid found clean bed sheets in the cellar and we changed the beds. It was frightfully cold, but I found a heavy quilt in the attic and slept very well.” Katherine smiled and Elly’s courage grew. “That was a lovely birthday photograph, you gave the lady.”
“Eileen’s been my dresser for twelve years. She’s like a mother to me. She supports a good-for-nothing husband and all those delightful children. I was so pleased we could do something special for her birthday. When’s your birthday?” She powered her face.
Embarrassed, Elly looked down and whispered. “Next week.”
“Really? What day?”
“The twenty-third.”
“You were a Christmas baby. Your mother must have been thrilled.”
“My mother died the night I was born.”
“Oh my dear, I’m so sorry.” She turned to face the girl.
Elly smiled self-consciously. “It’s all right. I never knew her, so I never missed her.”
“Are you an only child?”
“Yes.”
“Did your father remarry?”
“No.”
“Who brought you up?”
“My aunt. When I was fourteen, I was sent away to school. It was wonderful.”
Katherine made a quick mental inventory. Something was odd. Elly obviously came from money, but the way she devoured that apple, she was starving. “Is your aunt pleased that you’re becoming an actress?”
Elly paled. “My family has no money and I have no dowry. I can never marry and have to make my own way.”
“There was money enough for your schooling.”
“A family friend paid my tuition.”
“But she won’t provide a dowry? Apprentices earn no wages. If you need to make your own way, perhaps you should find work that pays a wage.”
Elly looked frightened. “I’ve thought of that, but I don’t want to do anything else. I want to be an actress. Miss O’Mally and Miss Lamoor find work.”
Katherine rolled her eyes, then smiled reassuringly. “Not to worry. You’re lovely. Jerry told me you have wonderful potential, and he’s never wrong. If you’re willing to study very hard, and go hungry…”
“I am. I promise. I’ll do anything that’s asked of me. I’m clever. I learn fast. You’ll never hear me complain. Not ever!”
Katherine laughed warmly. “I believe you. With that kind of passion, you’re sure to succeed. You begin acting classes next week. I hope Jerry will be kind.”
*
That evening, Jeremy O’Connell sailed through The Magistrate in an especially good mood. The night before, Rory had forced him to review his long history with Katherine Stewart. He was pleasantly surprised by the very real affection he still felt for her. As always, the silly comedy had ended with the husband and wife kissing. Tonight, he kissed Katherine passionately. The final curtain fell and they were still in a tight clutch. When they pulled apart for the curtain-call, she was breathless, Jeremy was ecstatic, and her young lover Owen Freeman was seething. The moment the stage lights came on, Owen sped to Katherine’s side, reclaiming stolen property.
Assuming Owen would stay with Katherine overnight; Jeremy wanted Evan in his downstairs flat, before they arrived. Men were arrested for wearing makeup on public streets, so Jeremy scurried home through dark shadows. He found the key for Katherine’s flat and opened her door.
Evan heard the lock turn and ran to the foyer. He was in his night clothes, but very wide awake. “You’re early, Daddy. How was the show?”
“Exceptional, dear boy, truly.” He put his hand on Evan’s head. “I am going to start staging The Tempest. Would you like to help me?”
“Oh, may I, please? Yes, yes!” He raced down the staircase to Jeremy’s flat. Jeremy followed, closing the door at the top of the stairs.
A miniature stage set was on the dining room table. Evan pulled himself onto a chair and carefully moved tiny, exquisitely carved ivory figurines, costumed for the play. “Why won’t Mummy be in the play?”
“Because she is stubborn as a mule. She insists that she is too old to play a girl of fifteen.” Jeremy shrugged. “You and I both know that is absolute rubbish, but she is convinced, and that-is-that. If she thinks she is getting time off, she is very much mistaken. I need her eyes and ears, whether or not she is on the stage. N
ow, I must take off this paint.” He walked to his bedroom and Evan followed.
“Can’t I be in the play?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Shakespeare didn’t want you in the play.”
“He didn’t want Miss Fielding in the play either, but she’s got a part.”
Jeremy hung up his suit jacket and threw his soiled shirt into a wicker basket. “Elly Fielding does not have a part. She is a super’. Miranda is the only woman in the play and she will be played by Sandra Lindford. Elly will practically be part of the scenery, a kind of symbol for all that is beautiful on the island: Miranda’s innocence, Prospero’s magic, all those things that must be left behind.” He went into the bathroom and Evan followed.
“Why does Elly get to play it?”
“Because she is a beautiful young girl.”
“I’m young.”
“You are not a girl.”
“Does it have to be a girl?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Prospero is a man, and men like beautiful girls.”
“Not all men like girls.” Evan spoke the simple truth, and Jeremy smiled.
“On stage, all men like girls.”
Evan looked at the floor and shuffled his feet. “In Shakespeare’s time, boys played girls. I could wear a wig. I still don’t see why I can’t play it.”
Jeremy sighed, opened a tub of lard, and rubbed some into his face. “There - is - no - role.” Evan looked totally dejected, and Jeremy shook his head. “Elly is going to spend most of the play sitting on a rock.” Evan’s expression grew even more miserable and Jeremy started laughing. “You are as stubborn as your mother. There will be another part for you, soon enough.”
“When?”
“Perhaps in the next play.”
“But the next play won’t be until September. I can’t wait that long.”
Jeremy threw up his hands. “Can’t wait that long?” He forced a frown and glared down. “How old are you?”
Evan threw up his hands, copying the gesture. “You know how old I am, I’m nine.”
“And are you planning on…”
“…reaching ten?” Evan finished the phrase and stamped his foot. Jeremy burst out laughing, and Evan looked up with sorrowful blue eyes, exactly like his mother’s. “You’re sure you couldn’t find even a small part for a small boy?”
Jeremy’s reading was cold. “No - chance - at - all.”
Evan heaved a final despair-filled sigh, yawned, and stretched. “Is Owen staying with Mummy?”
“I believe so.”
Almost asleep, Evan allowed Jeremy to tuck him into bed, and turn off the light. Jeremy was almost out the door when he heard a sleepy, “I like Owen.”
Jeremy chuckled. “So do I.” He took two steps and…
“I like Uncle Eric better.”
“So do I.”
“I like Uncle Simon better than Uncle Eric.”
“So do I, now go to sleep.”
“I love you best of all.”
Sighing happily, Jeremy walked back and sat on the edge of the bed. Evan reached his thin arms around Jeremy’s neck and kissed his cheek. Jeremy kissed Evan’s forehead, and pulled the covers around him.
“Mummy’s never cross when she sleeps with you. Why don’t you get married? We could take down those stupid doors between the floors. I could have all my things in one room…” Finally the boy was truly asleep. Jeremy pulled the door almost closed and went back to staging The Tempest.
It was very late when he finally went to bed. Staging a play on paper, and imagining his perfect production was pure joy. He dreaded the first rehearsals. The actors always brought their own ideas. After explaining his wants, they invariably misunderstood. He would become a monster, forcing them to do what he wanted. On opening night, if he did his job, his perfect vision would appear on the stage. The play would be a triumph.
He fell into a deep dreamless sleep, and only woke when the covers were pulled up. Katherine slid beside him. He opened one eye. “I thought you were with Adonis.”
“I was. I couldn’t stand it.”
“Umm.” He shut the eye and went back to sleep.
When Katherine woke, he was lying on his side, smiling.
She smiled back. “Good morning, darling.”
“Good morning, my love.” They exchanged a cordial kiss. She rolled over, snuggling her back against his front. He put his arms around her. “Umm, you feel good.” They were silent for few minutes. He whispered, “What are you doing here?” His hot breath tickled her ear.
“Owen’s an extraordinary lover, but he’s such a bore. Whenever we try to have a conversation, we row. I couldn’t stand another, so I ran away.”
“You left that man upstairs, in your bed?”
She nodded, smiling guiltily.
“That’s funny.” Laughing loudly, he fell back onto his pillow.
“Speaking of beds, last night I saw Rory Cook wearing Stephen’s brown suit.”
Embarrassed, Jeremy closed his eyes. “Indeed. Rory followed me home. I gave him Stephen’s bed, breakfast, a suit, and nothing more.”
She faced him. Her eyes were full of concern. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “I suppose. Speaking of love… You wouldn’t want to marry me, would you? Forsaking all others and all that?” He kissed her nose.
She lay back with a half-smile. “The man I’m in love with tells me he’s in love with someone else, then proposes marriage practically in the same breath. I’ll have to think about that one.” His cheeks flushed and Katherine chuckled, “I do wish there was something more I could do for you.”
“How absurd! Whatever more could you do, except perhaps turn yourself into a boy.”
“That’s very intriguing. Would you like me to be a boy?”
“No, just teasing.” He laughed, kissing her ear.
“That tickles.” She pulled away, giggling. “At times I have wished that I could be a boy, for you.”
“What a silly girl you are.” He rolled his eyes in exaggerated disdain. “You’re sugar…” He gently squeezed her nipple. “…and spice,” He tickled his fingers over her firm belly, “…and everything…” His hand moved down between her legs, “…nice.” She closed her eyes as his hand searched under the covers, pulling up her nightdress. Finding her soft opening, he probed with gentle fingers and nuzzled his mouth over her ear. “Umm, you’re all warm and juicy. I’m pleased I still have that effect on you.”
She gasped, “You’ve had that effect on me since the first moment I laid eyes on you, fifteen-years-ago.” Turning her face, her mouth found his. They kissed passionately as his fingers rubbed. Her soft flesh hardened into a round marble and he was thrilled, knowing he was thrilling her.
Suddenly, her body tensed, her legs pulled hard together, and her heart raced. She clung to him, breathing hard. When he smiled smugly, she laughed. “Naughty boy. You’re all snails and nails and puppy dogs’ tails.” Touching his face, she ran one finger over his forehead, along his eyebrow, cheek bone, down his nose and along his lips. He kissed it in passing. Her hand slid down his neck, and over his chest.
When it passed his ribs he said, “Don’t even think it.”
“Why not? It’s been a long time.”
“Yes, it has.”
“I’ve had mine.”
He laughed. “Yes, you have… in excess.”
“You need it.”
He thought for a moment. “Yes, I do.” He lay on his back, stretched his arms, and put his hands behind his head. Her hand continued down until it rested between his legs. He smiled and let out a contented sigh. Very gently, using both hands, she began to stroke his very eager cock. He stretched and groaned with pleasure. “Ah, Katie, you always did have magnificent hands.” She continued to pull, lift, gently squeeze, and finally rub until his body twisted, then collapsed back, totally relaxed. The worry lines left his face. She
cuddled against him, and fell asleep.
Chapter 7
Sunday, December 20, 1903
The stage-doorkeeper handed Elly two notes. “ ‘ello, Miss Fielding. You’ll ‘ave to sign in, from now on.” He pointed to a blackboard on the wall. A piece of chalk hung on a string.
Happy adrenaline rushed as she took the chalk and read down the list: Arthur Anderson, Eric Bates, Michael Burns, Nancy Cushman, Elly Fielding … She carefully initialed, E.F., next to her name. Jeremy O’Connell was in the middle. Katherine Stewart was at the end. “Thanks, Mr. Adams.” She smiled, opened her mail, and hurried to the lady’s washroom.
Miss Fielding,
Mr. Bates said I was to give you a schedule. Monday we’re dark. Tuesday at
10:00 report to Veronica Wallace, costume designer or Connie Vickers, costume-mistress, in the costume shop. At 12:00, go up the peacock’s nest, to Eugene the wig-master. Acting class will be in the rehearsal hall at 1:00.
Cheers,
Eddy Edwards
Elly caught her breath. Surely she would not be expected to do anything in an acting class? She read the second note.
Elly,
I hope you’re all right. The Actress and Villain is closed on Sundays, so we all eat at the Red Lion after the matinee. Something important has come up, so let me buy you a meal, and we’ll talk.
Michael
She took a quick wash and went into the crowded stalls for the Macbeth matinee. Old Jim greeted her. “ ‘ello, love. Y’ better keep out o’ sight today. Hilda Bates and ‘er family are in the box. She don’t like to see actors in the ‘ouse. Says they’re riffraff.” Elly saw Hilda Bates, her elderly parents, and two plain daughters. They sat as silently as visitors at a wake. Old Jim pulled Elly from sight as the houselights dimmed.
As soon as the final curtain fell, Elly hurried across the street to the Red Lion Pub. It was grander than The Actress and Villain and nearly empty. Her leather heels clipped along the dark-wood floor. She paused in front of an old photo in a worn frame. Six dancers, dressed like white birds, posed next to a large placard: The Stewart Swans. A huge carved mirror hung next to the bar. She saw her reflection, and tried to smooth her impossibly wrinkled skirt. Her hair was in a neat braid down her back.
But From Thine Eyes: Scintillating historical drama set in an Edwardian English theatre (His Majesty's Theatre Book 2) Page 7