When the Curtain Falls

by Carrie Hope Fletcher

  ‘That’s a very small price to pay,’ she said, pulling her own dressing gown tighter and folding her arms across her chest.

  ‘What?’ Hamish spat.

  ‘I will gladly sacrifice my career if my happiness is in far greater peril. I’ll find other jobs, other careers that make me happy, but I will never find happiness being Mrs Boatwright. I’d rather die.’ Hamish ran towards her, but she didn’t flinch. He put his hand around her throat, the crown of her head pushing against the cool glass of the window pane, but she looked him dead in the eye and he faltered for a moment.

  ‘Don’t think that can’t be arranged,’ Hamish spat as he ran his splayed fingers down her throat and down between her breasts. She grabbed his wrist and he let her push his hand away, laughing under his breath. Hamish swished his cloak out behind him but before he walked out into the corridor, he turned and said, ‘You will be my wife, or you’ll have a very different curtain call.’

  As soon as he was gone she ran to the door, locking it once more, before running back to the window.

  Walter had heard every word through the glass and had even watched Fawn’s red hair, ablaze against the glass as Hamish had pushed her against it and it had taken everything in him not to kick through the windows and stop him.

  ‘Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down,’ he’d whispered to himself, trying to ignore the sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose, but Walter couldn’t help it. It was getting dark but the light from the windows at the back of the theatre illuminated the street below and there, under the awning of the pub opposite stage door, stood Randall Heaves, Hamish’s right-hand man. He was taking a large drag on the last of his cigar and looking Walter dead in the eye. Finally, the window opened and Fawn reached out and tugged at Walter’s trouser leg.

  Walter carefully ducked in through the open window and jumped to the floor, but Fawn didn’t throw herself into his arms the way she had earlier. One arm was wrapped around her waist, his handkerchief still in her fist, and she was rubbing her throat with the other.

  ‘Fawn, it’s too late,’ Walter said, wiping the sweat from his face.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she sniffed. Walter pulled her away from the window and just the touch of her made the blood boil in his veins. She was so soft to look at, so delicate to touch and yet her mind was so sharp and eyes were so bright. To Walter, she was pure gold and the thought of Hamish handling her like she were anything less made an anger rise up in him like he’d never felt before.

  ‘I have to go.’ Walter opened up the door just enough so that he could see out into the hallway.

  ‘Meet me?’ Fawn slid her hand down his arm and interlinked their fingers, squeezing his hand with all the worry she had.

  ‘When the curtain falls.’ He kissed her quickly but still managed to linger ever so slightly. Almost like each time they were apart, he forgot what kissing her was really like and when the time came to kiss her again, he fell in love with her lips once more.

  ‘The usual place?’ she whispered, caressing his cheek.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Walter, what’s happened?’

  ‘Get ready for the show. We’ll talk tonight.’ He kissed her once more and slid out into the corridor, praying that no one else saw.

  Randall watched Walter and Fawn move away from the window from his roadside position. He threw the stub of his burned-out cigar onto the floor and stamped out the dying embers with the heel of his boot.

  17

  An Idea

  Fawn never missed a line nor a beat, even when her mind was elsewhere. But even though her body moved to her marks, her hands picked up the right props and her mouth said the lines, Fawn’s brain kept replaying the way Hamish’s lips had pressed against her ear, the way his cane had been cold against her throat and the way his body had pressed up against her. She felt numb and knew no amount of water would scrub away the kind of dirty she felt. When the curtain hit the floor, Fawn seized her moment. She slipped off her heels and climbed the ladder to the fly floor. Walter was already waiting for her and gingerly, she ran to him, the grated floor harsh on her bare feet. He pulled her in close and held her, gently swaying back and forth whilst she let the tears she’d been holding in come pouring out in great sobs.

  ‘Please don’t cry,’ Walter said softly as he stroked the back of her neck.

  ‘I don’t know what else to do. Everywhere I turn there seems to be a dead end.’ Fawn wiped her cheeks, her make-up coming off onto the backs of her hands. ‘If we run away, he’ll chase us. If we hide, he’ll find us. I absolutely cannot marry him and if I just quit… well, I don’t know what he’d do,’ she said, knowing exactly what Hamish would do.

  ‘He’d kill you.’ Walter raised his voice.

  ‘Shush! And there was me trying not to say it,’ Fawn laughed, despite the tears still creating troughs in her make-up.

  ‘Surely, he wouldn’t actually kill you?’

  ‘You’ve seen how he treats me. How he treats everyone. He’s a violent man with violent people in his employ and he’s only ever been accustomed to getting his own way.’ She suddenly felt out of breath.

  ‘Then we go to the police! We tell them that he’s hurt you. That he’s going to keep hurting you.’ Walter took a step away from her as if he were already on his way to the nearest police station, but Fawn remained unmoved, tired of trying to find her way through a labyrinth with no exit.

  ‘You don’t think someone like Hamish has connections? I won’t have been the first woman he’s treated like this and where was the law then? If they’re paid off well enough, they’ll turn a blind eye to anything, Walter. Having money has taught me that it really can buy you anything. Loyalty, protection…’

  ‘Love?’ he asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Love.’ Walter held her close and stroked her cheek. ‘Could Hamish buy your love if he wanted to?’

  ‘Of course he couldn’t.’

  ‘Then at least he’s left me something.’ Walter went to kiss her, but she pulled back.

  ‘Hamish didn’t leave you anything. I’ve chosen to give you my heart based on nothing but my own wish to. It’s nothing to do with him, so don’t you dare go giving Hamish the credit for that now.’

  ‘I know, I know, I’m sorry.’ Walter pulled her into him once more and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  ‘I wish I’d never met Hamish. I wish my father had never bought my way into his hands.’

  ‘Shhh.’

  ‘I wish men like Hamish didn’t exist.’ Walter was quiet for a moment, the cogs in his head starting to whirr and clunk, churning out an idea. ‘I wish they didn’t either,’ he said, stroking her hair. Fawn felt fragile in his arms, sad and shivering and the mere thought that anyone would lay a hand on her made his cheeks grow hotter and hotter with anger. Fawn had a strong will and a strong mind but Hamish had strong hands. Men like that don’t deserve women like Fawn, he thought. Men like that should be locked away. Men like that should…

  ‘What if he didn’t?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she said, halting their gentle swaying.

  ‘What if he didn’t… exist.’

  ‘I still don’t know what that means, Walter.’

  ‘We can’t run, hide, go to the police, you can’t marry him and you don’t want to marry him but if you don’t he’ll kill you so why don’t we… beat him to the punch?’

  ‘Are you suggesting I kill myself?’ she scoffed.

  ‘What? No, Fawn…’ He leaned away from her, so she would look at his face. Don’t make me say it, he thought but then he watched as the idea dawned in her eyes too.

  ‘Walter, are you mad?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘What do you mean, why not? That’s not who we are. That’s not who I am or who you are! Walter!’ She clapped a hand over her mouth.

  ‘Fawn, what other option do we have?! He may kill you!’ he hissed.

  ‘He may not,’ she said without conviction
.

  ‘Only if you do what he says, Fawn.’

  ‘I know… oh God, I know.’ Fawn pulled away and started to pace despite the pain in her feet.

  ‘Then we have no other choice.’ They looked at each other then, a silence and a coldness washing over them.

  ‘I can’t. I just can’t.’ Fawn covered her eyes, wishing it would all go away.

  ‘You won’t have to. We could stage it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ She looked at Walter through her fingers.

  ‘We work in a show that stages a murder. Lars, in the show, murders —’

  ‘Hamish…’

  ‘Well, his character at least. All it would take is something to fall into the barrel of that gun for things to go… slightly wrong.’

  ‘Slightly? Walter, we’re talking about…’ she lowered her voice, ‘about murdering someone here.’

  ‘It would look like an accident, Fawn. Stage tricks go wrong all the time. This would just be another one added to the list and no one would be to blame. It would just be an unfortunate accident.’ The idea settled in the air between them for a moment. Walter’s eyes were wide and wild and Fawn took another step backwards.

  ‘Walter this is madness. We can’t… kill… Hamish.’

  ‘There’s no other way, Fawn.’ Walter stepped towards her, but she kept retreating.

  ‘Walter, you’re scaring me.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ He rushed to her. ‘I just… don’t want to lose you. Not at all but most of all, not to him.’

  ‘Fawn?’ A distant voice called out.

  Who is it? Walter mouthed. The doors to the wing opened and the voice called out again, ‘Fawn, sweetie?’

  ‘It’s him. I have to go.’

  ‘No, please don’t…’

  ‘Walter, I have to. I’m supposed to be going to a party with him this evening.’ Fawn looked over the railing and saw Hamish walk onto the stage behind the fire curtain. He checked his pocket watch. ‘Just stay here.’

  Fawn descended the ladder as quickly as she could and picked up her shoes from behind the wicker basket where she’d hidden them, and holding them in her hand, walked onto stage to meet Hamish. Walter could only watch from his perch above them.

  ‘Mr Boatwright…’ Fawn stopped at what she thought was an acceptable distance from him.

  ‘There you are!’ Hamish smiled broadly, as if their earlier altercation had never happened. ‘You’re still in costume.’ His smile shrank.

  ‘Yes, I wasn’t feeling too well so I’ve just… been in the lavatory. Collecting myself.’ She took a deep breath, but she knew she already looked shaken up enough from her conversation with Walter for her lie to be plausible.

  ‘Not… too unwell for tonight, I hope.’ A muscle in his top lip twitched.

  ‘I was hoping to get a proper night’s sleep tonight. There have been quite a few parties over the last week or so and —’

  ‘They’re all to further your career, darling. The people you’re meeting are vital to your future success.’ He laughed, but it was short and shrill.

  ‘I didn’t think I had a future career in this industry.’ Fawn couldn’t keep the bite out of her voice and took another deep breath to steady herself.

  ‘Of course you do!’ He moved towards her and put his arms around her shoulders, ducking his head so close to her face that she could smell the tobacco on his breath. Their closeness made Walter’s stomach lurch and he wondered if he should be watching them at all, but a part of him felt as though he could protect her somehow if he kept her in his sights.

  ‘When you’re my wife there is nothing we won’t be able to accomplish together,’ Hamish said as he stepped closer still to Fawn.

  ‘I’ve told you, Mr Boatwright, I will never be Mrs Boatwright.’

  ‘AND I HAVE TOLD YOU I WILL HAVE OBEDIENCE.’ Hamish grabbed Fawn’s pearl necklace and wrapped what he could around his fist and roughly yanked her towards him so that she had to stand on tiptoe. She dropped her shoes and clawed at his wrists to release her, but his fists were like wrought iron, unflinching and unaffected by her efforts and his face was red with unadulterated rage. The pearls dug into her neck and it felt as though his knuckles were piercing her windpipe. Walter wanted to yell, to run down the ladder and give Hamish the beating of a lifetime but he knew if he did he would be risking both their lives. And so Walter clutched his flat cap to his head, bit his tongue until he tasted blood, and watched with bated breath.

  ‘You will do as I say or there is no use for you,’ Hamish growled through gritted teeth.

  ‘Hamish…’ Fawn choked and Hamish smiled, his eyes glinting.

  ‘So this is what it takes for you to say my name. Finally. A little obedience.’ He stroked her cheek with the cold, silver end of his cane. Fawn felt a volcano erupt in her belly and without a second’s thought she conjured up the little saliva that was left in her drying mouth and spat it in one huge wad onto his cheek. Hamish’s fist clenched, and the necklace snapped. Pearls slipped off their chain and scattered to the floor like hailstones in a storm and lying amongst them was Fawn, gasping for breath and clutching her throat once again.

  ‘You bitch!’ Hamish raised his cane in both hands, ready to bring it down onto her head, clean and sharp.

  ‘STOP!’ Hamish’s head snapped up and Fawn prayed it wasn’t Walter coming to her rescue. But as she looked up through her watering eyes, she saw Lenny rushing from the wings. ‘Don’t you dare touch that girl,’ Lenny said, as he ran between them and flung his arms out wide to protect her.

  ‘Who do you think you are?’

  ‘I am the stage door man of the Suvern Cross Theat-ah and a friend to every cast member going. This girl ain’t done a single thing except be exceptional in this show and she does just about everyfing you’ve asked of ’er but this is asking too much. Now, ’oo do you fink you are, eh?’ Lenny’s face was puce and the veins in his neck sprouted out so far, Walter could see them from his balcony position. Hamish simply polished the end of his cane with his black cloak.

  ‘Leonard. Do you have trouble with your ears?’

  ‘You wha’?’

  ‘Because not once have you ever seemed to be able to listen.’

  ‘I only listen to people I like.’

  ‘Oh, dear. I fear that way of thinking is going to get you into a spot of bother, one day. Perhaps… one day soon.’

  ‘Empty threats, Hamish. You throw ’em about left, right and centre, daily, and not once ’ave you ever actually walked the walk. But if I ever see you lay a hand on this girl or anyone else for that matter, so ’elp me God, I will give you what for.’ Lenny held out his hand which Fawn took, the pieces of her broken necklace clutched in the other hand. Slowly, she heaved herself onto her unsteady legs, as Lenny supported her as best he could and escorted her from the stage. ‘Come on, girl. I’ve gotcha. Let’s get you into warmer clothes and sit you down with a nice cup of tea, how does that sound?’

  When he was sure the coast was clear, Walter clambered down the ladder and ran ahead through the doors and up into dressing room four and when they came through the door, it was Walter who fell into Fawn’s arms.

  ‘I felt so helpless,’ he sobbed. ‘There was nothing I could do, I just had to sit and watch him do that to you.’

  ‘I know, I know. Oh, Walter.’ She stroked his hair. ‘Hush now.’ Walter caught Lenny looking at the two of them, clearly closer than theatre staff and actors usually were, but he didn’t raise an eyebrow or give them a look of concern. He merely tipped his flat cap and said, ‘I’ll leave you both to it. I’ll book you a cab, Miss.’

  ‘I won’t need a cab, but Lenny,’ she reached out her hand and even though her fingers were aching from trying to release herself from Hamish’s grip, she squeezed his hand, hard. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘We have to do something,’ Walter sniffed when the door was closed.

  ‘We’ll figure it out.’

  ‘We’ve figured it out.’

&n
bsp; ‘Walter. No.’

  ‘We can’t let that happen again… wait… why won’t you need a cab?’ Fawn was silent for a moment as she slipped the wig from her head, placed it on its block and started unpinning her hair. ‘Fawn, you’re not going to that party. Please don’t go, I can’t bear the thought of you being alone with him.’ Fawn threw down the final pin and walked over to Walter.

  ‘Walter, will you be quiet for just a moment.’ She kissed him then, every ache in her body softening, evaporating into the air above them. Walter’s hands meandered up her back and she held onto him like a piece of driftwood in a rough and raging sea.