The overnight rain had washed away almost all the remaining snow, leaving only dirty patches at the bases of the trees that lined the pathway to the main building and on the grounds where the bungalows were located. Spring had officially arrived, and this morning a light, refreshing breeze was blowing along the river, bringing with it a sweet hint of warmer days to come. Even this early in the day, the sun had an intensity that hadn’t been there just a couple of weeks earlier.
Charlotte let herself into the hotel through the staff entrance and walked along the corridor that led to the backstage area. Beyond that, down another short passageway, were her workroom and the wardrobe storage area. As she passed the black curtains that made up the theater wings, a man’s voice caught her attention. She stopped to listen.
“Look, Brian, what you get up to in your own time is your business, but when it starts affecting your ability to remember your lines, be on time for rehearsals, or work with the rest of the cast, then as the director, it becomes my problem. You’ve got to lay off the booze. It’s destroying your career. Or what’s left of it.”
Feeling uncomfortable at overhearing Brian get a dressing down, Charlotte was about to move on. But she decided she wanted to hear what Brian Prentice had to say in response, so she ducked out of the corridor and stood between the curtains where she wouldn’t be seen by anyone who might come down the hallway. It was still a few minutes before nine, and she guessed that the rest of the cast on call for this rehearsal would start to arrive in a few minutes.
“Well, I’m not late this morning, am I?” Brian said, finally.
“No, but I can smell the booze on you from last night. It’s not pleasant, and you don’t look too clever,” said Simon Dyer.
“Going through a bad patch right now, you see,” Brian said. “Deborah’s about to leave me, I know she is. I don’t even know why she agreed to come here with me. The only reason I can think of is that she liked the idea of being so close to New York City. And then I did a really stupid thing that probably means I pressed the self-destruct button. When Deborah finds out, I’ll be for the high jump. She’ll have my guts for garters this time, for sure.”
“What have you done?” Simon asked. “Do you want to tell me? Is it something I can help with?”
“Nah.”
“The thing is, Brian, this is a funny old place. For some of us—you and me, for example—it’s our last chance to make something of ourselves so our careers don’t end in the gutter. For others, it’s a starting point. For them, the only way from here is up. The ones just out of theater school are paying their dues here, and it’s up to us to show them the ropes.” He waited, and when there was no response, he continued. “Think about it this way, Brian. These young actors will take what happens here this summer with them for the rest of their careers. Do you really want your legacy to be ‘the old drunk British geezer I worked with that summer in the Catskills’? Because if you don’t clean up your act, that’s exactly where you’re headed.”
The only reply was a deep, violent coughing fit that sounded as if a pair of lungs were about to be turned inside out.
“And Brian, you might want to do something about the smoking. It’s destroying that beautiful voice of yours. Look, I’m sorry if all this sounds harsh,” Simon continued, “but someone needs to talk to you like a Dutch uncle, and I guess that someone had to be me. Okay. Speech over. Let’s get ready for the rehearsal. I need and expect full participation from you this morning. You’re the company’s lead actor, and I’m looking to you to lead the company.”
“What about Lauren?”
“What about her?”
“Well, will somebody be standing in for her?”
“Of course.”
“Have you, er, heard how she’s doing?”
“I had a message from Harvey this morning. I’m planning to update the cast in a few minutes.”
Just as they finished speaking, footsteps behind Charlotte signaled approaching cast members, so she slipped out from behind the curtain and, at a quick pace, hoping to give the impression she’d just arrived, bustled toward Simon. She was relieved that Brian had moved away and was standing alone in the middle of the stage, looking out at the empty seats. A young actor approached him, and the two were soon in animated conversation. Brian raised his arm in a sweeping gesture, pretending to take off his hat and then bow. His movements were fluid and expressive. If they seemed exaggerated on stage, they would read beautifully from the audience. A moment later, the younger man took a step back, repositioned his feet slightly wider apart, and lifted his arm. Brian grasped it and lifted it higher. The actor then bent his knees and mimicked Brian’s bow. Brian gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and the young man smiled at him and then joined the other cast members.
Simon and Charlotte turned to each other.
“Morning, Simon.”
“Hello, there.” He tipped his head in Brian’s direction. “That was interesting.”
“Brian always was generous with other actors. Makes sure they have their moment and never tries to upstage. He’s also really good with the stagecraft. Makes it look so easy.”
“You know him, do you?”
“Yes, we worked together at the RSC a long time ago.”
“I wondered if your paths might have crossed.”
“Well,” said Charlotte, “I just wanted to remind you that we’re going to need all the cast members in for measurements and then fittings. I’d like Aaron to work with me on this, so we can get the costumes sorted in half the time. We can work around your rehearsal schedule.”
Simon nodded. “Sounds good. Thanks for the reminder. We’ll start booking them in at the end of the week.”
“Fortunately, we took Lauren’s measurements yesterday and started on her dresses, so as soon as she returns . . .”
“If she returns,” Simon said.
“Oh, gosh, is it that bad? I thought she was on the mend, and just assumed . . .”
“Look, I’m just about to brief the cast. Why don’t you stay for that?”
“I’d like that very much. I’d also like to say a few words to them, if you don’t mind,” said Charlotte.
In the center of the stage, a young actor was arranging chairs in a semicircle. Once the rest of the cast had arrived, one or two with hair still damp from the shower and several clutching coffee cups, Simon clapped his hands to get their attention.
“All right, everybody. Take your seats, please. I want to give you an update on how Lauren’s doing, and then I want to introduce you to our costume designer.”
They shuffled to the chairs and settled quickly amidst an air of expectation. Usually the conversational hubbub would die down slowly, but this morning, they immediately gave their director their full attention.
“Harvey Jacobs called me this morning. He’s been in touch with the hospital, and they’re keeping him informed about Lauren’s condition. The good news is that she’s out of danger, but the bad news is that she’s experiencing some medical issues. They’re still not sure what happened, but it seems likely she took an overdose of something.”
One or two cast members gasped, raising their hands to cover their mouths. A few exchanged quick glances of surprise.
“So if any of you have any information or know anything at all about what might have happened to her, come and see me.”
“Is she coming back?” one of the older actresses asked.
“That’s a good question. It’s a little too early to say,” Simon responded carefully. “We hope so. If she can recover in time, she will be back. If not, unfortunately, she’ll have to be replaced. In the meantime, we go ahead with rehearsals, with someone standing in for her.”
He waited for a moment to give the cast time to digest what they had just been told. “Does anyone have any questions?” His eyes scanned the group. “No? Well if there’s nothing else, let me introduce you to our wardrobe mistress Charlotte Fairfax. Charlotte has a lot of experience, including the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford-upon-Avon, so you’re in very good hands.” He gestured in her direction, and Charlotte stood up.
“Good morning, everyone.” She glanced at their faces, but deliberately avoided making eye contact with Brian, although she could feel his eyes on her. “I haven’t met all of you yet, but I will as soon as we begin costume fittings at the end of the week and, er, I’m looking forward to that.” She could feel her composure evaporating under Brian’s gaze but plowed on.
“I’ve been asked to tell you that Lauren’s handbag—that is, her purse—seems to be missing. Please keep your eyes open for it. I don’t know what it looks like, but if you find a woman’s bag, it’ll probably be hers. If you do find a woman’s bag, please don’t open it or disturb the contents—just bring it to me in the wardrobe department.” She started to sit down and then quickly straightened up. “We’re located just down the hall, on the other side of the back entrance.”