The Boy I Love

by Lynda Bellingham

  Hi, this is Jeremy Sinclair here. We met the other night at the theatre. You said you would like a tour backstage at some time. I have spoken to our general manager who says that is absolutely fine, so any time you and your sister would like to come, just give me a call. The number at the stage door is 01270 377555. I look forward to your call.

  He had dialled Eddie’s number and tried to do vocal exercises while he waited to calm himself down. He was totally caught offguard when he heard Eddie’s voice answer, ‘Hi, Eddie Graham here, how can I help you?’

  ‘Oh, um, hi, is that Eddie? Blimey, I wasn’t expecting your voice at all! Sorry, you have completely thrown me.’ Jeremy could feel his cheeks burning and was so glad the recipient of this call could not see him at this moment.

  ‘Is that Jeremy, by any chance?’ asked Eddie.

  ‘Yes – yes, it is. I am so sorry. Please forgive me for being so pathetic. I just assumed you would be out in the fields somewhere, as you told me you were working on the estate.’ Jeremy was trying very hard to pull himself together and sound like a grown-up.

  ‘Well, normally I am, but I was waiting for a delivery of animal feed – fascinating life I lead, don’t you think?’ Eddie laughed and Jeremy had a mental picture of his beautiful face lighting up. ‘So what can I do for you?’ Eddie continued.

  ‘Well, I was just wondering if you and Tilly still wanted to come and look round the theatre. I am actually free this week, as I am not in the next production so I have plenty of spare time,’ explained Jeremy.

  ‘Oh wow, that would be tremendous, thank you so much. I will have to check with Tilly, as she has school. If she can’t make it, could I come on my own?’ Eddie asked.

  Jeremy felt his heart leap into his mouth and he desperately fought to keep control of his tongue which was trying to tie itself in knots.

  ‘Yes, not a problem, just give me a ring at the stage door. Have you got a pen? The number is 01270 377555.’

  ‘Got it, right. Fantastic, thank you,’ Eddie said. ‘How is it all going? Are you getting good audiences? My father mentioned that you had a good write-up in the local rag this week.’

  ‘Yes, really good, thanks,’ replied Jeremy. ‘I am just off to the dentist in Nantwich to have a filling done. Not looking forward to that, I can tell you. But it is fortunate I am not working this week so I can get it sorted out.’

  ‘Nantwich? Whereabouts? I have to go into town this lunchtime to pick up some tools. We could meet and have a coffee. What time are you going to be finished with the dreaded dentist?’ asked Eddie.

  ‘About noon, I guess,’ whispered Jeremy in a fever of excitement. Why couldn’t he pull himself together? ‘Where shall we meet? I don’t know the town at all, but the address of the dentist is 126 Chester Way. Do you know where that is?’

  ‘Oh yes, I know exactly where you are going. I tell you what the best thing to do is: you wait there and I will pick you up and we can find a coffee place somewhere around there. How does that suit you?’

  Jeremy agreed. The phones went down and he was left in a state of complete panic. What was he doing? This was madness.

  And here they were, three hours later, sitting in a quaint little tearoom, and Jeremy was trying not to dribble on the tablecloth! They found so much to talk about, amazingly. The conversation flowed and they had laughed and joked like old friends.

  ‘I guess I had better make a move or I will get the sack,’ Jeremy said finally, remembering he had some shopping to do for Heather for the theatre. ‘Can you tell me how to get back to Crewe? I came by train, but I can’t remember where the station is now.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I will take you. It is only round the corner, and there are loads of trains. Come on.’ They both got up and Eddie paid the bill.

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ protested Jeremy. ‘Let’s split it.’

  Eddie laughed. ‘I think I can afford a teacake or two. You can pay next time, and we will go out to dinner.’

  They were standing on the pavement outside the café and Eddie took Jeremy’s arm. ‘Please say we can meet up soon.’ He held onto Jeremy’s arm as if his life depended on it, and Jeremy had an overwhelming desire to take Eddie into his arms and hold him.

  ‘Yes, of course we can. Whenever you want.’ Jeremy held Eddie’s gaze until the boy let go of his arm and they both seemed to relax back into the world around them.

  ‘We’d better get a move on,’ mumbled Eddie and strode off to the van he was driving. Jeremy hurried after him. The station was, indeed, just around the corner, and as Jeremy was searching for the door handle he felt Eddie move towards him. He turned slightly and was caught by a kiss from him. He started to respond and then gasped and broke the moment. Eddie pulled back and Jeremy could see fear in his eyes.

  ‘I am so sorry, please forgive me. Please don’t say anything. I—’ Jeremy took his hand and stopped him. ‘You have done nothing wrong, Eddie, but now is not the right time or place. Please, leave me a message at the stage door, or come and meet me after the show one night if you can and we will talk. But we have to be careful.’

  He squeezed Eddie’s hand and climbed out of the car. He turned and waved, and then walked to the platform. He could hardly put one foot in front of the other, for his legs felt as numb as his mouth – but he couldn’t blame the dentist for this. Oh God no, this was completely of his own making, yet he felt out of control. Suddenly his life was about to change forever, and Jeremy really was not sure if this change was for better or worse.

  Chapter 24

  When Jeremy got back to the theatre it was getting on for four o’clock. He had brought the bits and pieces that Heather had asked for, and was about to go and find her when he was stopped in his tracks by a piercing scream. He ran towards the sound, leaping up the steps to the dressing room two at a time. What the hell was going on? The screams grew louder as he neared the girls’ dressing room, and as he flung open the door he was greeted by a terrible sight.

  There were several women – well, they seemed to be women, but they were covered in copious amounts of hair of all different colours and in the middle was one horrible grotesque creature with a bald head and wisps of hair straggling down her neck. She was semi-naked, as were the other women, clad only in skimpy veils of transparent silk. As Jeremy ran in they screamed again, and then burst into hysterical laughter.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ he demanded. He was slowly beginning to realize that these creatures were in fact the girls he knew and loved. ‘Sally, what has happened? What is going on here?’ He had finally managed to recognize his friend under her mountain of blonde hair.

  Sally was laughing so much she could hardly speak.

  ‘Oh, my God, Jeremy, can you believe these wigs and costumes? Gwendoline is having a breakdown. She must be to create this. Look at poor Peggy . . .’ Sally turned to point at the bald crone and collapsed into fits of mirth again.

  Peggy was indignant. ‘Pipe down, Sally! It is bad enough I have to look like this without your mockery. Come on, girls, we have got to see a way through this.’

  At this point, Charmaine appeared at the dressing-room door looking stunning in a long diaphanous robe with her auburn locks cascading down her back.

  ‘Hi, everyone – isn’t this just wonderful? I am so thrilled with my costume – and look at Sarah.’ She turned and let Sarah come forward. She was dressed in a white silk Grecian-style dress which hung from her shoulders in very flattering folds. A hairpiece at the back gave her thick golden-brown tresses, and the false hair had been braided into her own hair at the front. The whole dressing room went quiet.

  ‘Sarah is going to play my maid and the sort of Vestal Virgin of the town,’ Charmaine informed them. ‘She represents love and purity, and all that was good before the men started going to war and causing grief and famine.’

  Sally was the first to find her voice and she half-whispered, ‘Sorry, but I don’t remember any of this in the script I have been reading from.’

&n
bsp; Sarah glided towards her with a triumphant gleam in her eye.

  ‘Oh, I know – it has only just been added,’ she said. ‘The thing was, Percy had been talking to Giles about the play because he did it years ago, and mentioned a scene that was not in this translation. Well, Giles loved it when he read it, and as I have so little to do in this play, and because Percy has been helping me with audition speeches and knows what I can really do, he persuaded Giles to put me in the scene. Isn’t that fantastic?’

  Sally sat down slowly and looked at Sarah through the mirror. ‘Yes, fantatic,’ was all she could muster for fear of giving the girl a real piece of her mind. Clever little minx, she thought. That’ll teach us to take our eyes off the ball.

  Jeremy could sense that the atmosphere in the room had dropped several degrees; it was feeling positively frosty, so he beat a hasty retreat. ‘Sally, I have to go and deliver this stuff to Heather, but can we talk later, please?’ He was gone before she answered.

  Gwendoline was gathering wigs from the ladies, telling them, ‘Look, girls, please don’t panic. By the time we have dressed the wigs they will look gorgeous.’

  ‘How can you dress a bald pate?’ whined Peggy. ‘Do I really have to play this old hag? What have I ever done to Giles to deserve this? I will never work again.’

  Dora came to the rescue and put her arm round the distraught actress.

  ‘Now listen to me, Peggy. You are a fantastic actress and you will make this work. In fact, you are the only one who can make this work. Think of that scene where you get us all in the square and talk about women, and what we do for society, and how beauty is but a fleeting distraction . . . all that stuff anyway. Your voice and strength onstage will be fantastic, and maybe, Gwendoline, Peggy can wear a robe of some sort that has a regal quality to it, to balance the head and the baldness; something in a wonderfully rich colour.’

  Gwendoline responded with the perfect answer. ‘Absolutely! You are quite right, Dora. Peggy’s character should have a regal quality about her. Time has ravaged her looks, but not her mind.’

  Everyone waited to see Peggy’s reaction. The woman knew how to hold a moment, and she milked it for all it was worth. Slowly she raised her head and wiped away a tear. Slowly she rose from her seat and walked to the door and then turned back to the room. A straggling wisp of hair strayed across her face and she blew it away, declaring, ‘Onwards and upwards, girls. I have never been beaten by a role yet. This will be my greatest challenge, and I shall embrace it with all my being. Bald is beautiful!’ With that she turned and swished out.

  Everyone let out a sigh of relief. Sally turned to Dora and said, ‘Come on, sis, let’s go and get some tea and take these bits of hankie off. I take it we will be wearing a bit more than this on the night, Gwendoline?’

  ‘Oh yes, of course. I was just trying to get a general feel of the thing. Goodness knows where Sarah got her costume. It certainly didn’t come from this wardrobe.’

  ‘I bet she made it herself,’ ventured Janie. ‘She is always up to something, isn’t she?’

  ‘I wonder what Peggy makes of all this?’ mused Sally, thinking that she was no doubt fully aware of Sarah’s machinations, and watching her progress very closely.

  ‘Well, there is a lesson for all of us,’ announced Dora. ‘Go for what you want in life.’

  No one in the room was cheering.

  Chapter 25

  Sally found Jeremy in the pub.

  ‘Not drinking before a performance, I hope?’ she scolded.

  ‘No, don’t be daft. I take my career way too seriously to do that,’ replied Jeremy. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  ‘Just an orange juice, please,’ said Sally. ‘So how are things? I have hardly seen you this week. Is it strange not being in the next play? Mind you, the way things are going you should be grateful you are not in it. What about those wigs and costumes, eh? I can’t believe Gwendoline is going to get away with her whole concept. And we have got all the bloody repertories coming to watch us make fools of ourselves.’

  Sally was in full flood when she suddenly realized she was getting no response from her friend at all. He was staring off into space, fiddling with a card.

  ‘Hey! Hello, earth calling, anyone at home? Jeremy, whatever is the matter with you?’ Sally shook his arm and finally Jeremy focused on her.

  ‘I am so sorry, Sally. I have a lot on my mind. There is so much to tell you, but I am not sure we should talk about it now as we have got a show in an hour. Can I come to your place tonight, after the play finishes? I really need to talk to you.’

  ‘Yes, of course you can, silly. We’ll get some fish and chips or something on the way home.’ Sally gave him a hug, finished her orange juice and went back to work, leaving Jeremy once more gazing into space. At the stage door Sally bumped into Giles and Robert deep in conversation. She nodded as she passed but didn’t stop. She was curious as to what their relationship actually was. Were they lovers? She didn’t think so, but maybe they had been once. Robert certainly kept close to the man at the top, and played all sorts of political games that Sally could only guess at. She really didn’t care, unlike Sarah; the latter, it would seem, was on a mission to make herself the leading lady. She really was something else, and Sally wasn’t sure she had much respect for the girl. Success at any cost? Not for Sally anyway. She wanted to be able to face herself at all times, and know she had shown integrity and respect to herself and others. She adored being an actress and just wanted to be able to do the work, knowing she had fulfilled those criteria.

  Sally went down to the Props Room to find Heather, who was as usual surrounded by an assortment of props, dirty coffee mugs and always one member of the crew asleep in her chair or eating her biscuits.

  ‘Sally, the very person I do want to see!’ exclaimed the stage manager happily. ‘Can you be on the book tonight? I need to have a meeting with all the heads of departments about our next offering. I gather you actors or rather actresses are not happy with your costumes?’

  Sally chuckled. ‘Well yes, that would be an understatement, but to be honest with you, Heather, I don’t think anyone much cares what the actresses think. Giles has a vision of sex and Ancient Greece that he is going to parade before the residents of Crewe and the directors of the Repertory Organization, whether we like it or not. We will either be run out of town, or never work again – or both! Yes, I will be on the book tonight, no problem. Is everyone in and on the job who should be?’ she added.

  ‘All present and correct. Thanks, Sally, I owe you one.’ Heather gave her a smile and set off to find her team.

  The evening show went without a hitch until Act Two, when Percy, in his robes as Sir Thomas More, got the edge of the huge coat he wore caught in the great oak door. Obviously the great oak door was only plywood cleverly disguised by the scene builders and painters as solid oak. If one opened or closed it too vigorously, it shook, or was in danger of snapping. Percy was trying very hard to extricate himself while giving a rather moving speech to Mrs More. Peggy was also trying to hide the problem from the audience by standing sideways, and holding out her long dress. Word spread backstage and suddenly the wings were full of actors bent double with laughter. Percy kept looking into the wings towards Sally, desperate for help, but even she was trying hard not to laugh. It was just one of those awful things that happen onstage sometimes. Suddenly there was a ripping sound which Peggy covered with a wrenching cough, as she fell upon Sir Thomas and tried to get him out of the great oak door. But the bloody door was stuck fast. Peggy was now so determined to get them off the stage that all reason and logic left her – and the next thing, she was climbing out of the window, pulling Sir Thomas with her. Bearing in mind they were supposed to be in a castle, even if they were lucky enough to have been on the ground floor, it was still a leap to terra firma. But Peggy could not care less about the reality of the scene, she just wanted out. So Sally brought the curtain down as Sir Thomas More disappeared, arse over tit, out of the castle
window. Happy days!

  Percy and Peggy came charging into the wings absolutely furious.

  ‘Why didn’t you do something, Sally? How could you leave me there struggling?’ Percy demanded. ‘I have never been so humiliated in all my life. Come on, Peggy, let’s get changed for the last act, though God knows if anybody has bothered to stay and watch. My performance was ruined.’

  Percy was off up the stairs followed by a placatory Peggy clutching a packet of digestives that she always kept in the wings for emergencies. The rest of the play passed without incident and the cast took an extra curtain call, so Percy was mollified.

  Everyone decided it was definitely a night for the pub.

  ‘You coming, Sally?’ asked Simon, giving her bum a squeeze as he passed. Truth be told he rather fancied Sally, but the opportunity had never presented itself yet. Maybe tonight.

  ‘Get off my bum, you pervert,’ Sally laughed. ‘Sorry, Simon, not tonight. I have got a date with fish and chips and Jeremy.’

  ‘Oh Gawd, more line learning and intellectual discussion about his “Acting”,’ mocked Simon. The boys often took the mickey out of poor Jeremy now, because he did take his work so seriously. ‘Well, more fool you is all I can say,’ Simon went on. ‘You could have had a fabulous evening with me in the pub. A few pints then a quick trip to Mrs Wong’s and back to my place for a shag. What more could you want?’

  Sally shook her head as she took a swipe at the incorrigible boy and told him to get lost. She finished clearing up and switching off all the lights, then went upstairs to get her stuff from the dressing room. As she passed Peggy and Percy’s dressing room she heard a stifled giggle. She paused and knocked on Peggy’s door.