cb.booksofblood-第21章

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　　〃She　was　a　wonderful　Viola。〃　He　was　too　tired　for　this　mooning　over　dead　actresses；　she　was　dead　wasn't　she？　He　had　said　she　was　dead；　hadn't　he？
　　〃Wonderful；〃　said　Tallulah　again。
　　〃Goodnight；　Tallulah。　I'll　see　you　tomorrow。〃　The　old　crone　didn't　answer。　If　she　was　offended　by　his　brusque　manner；　then　so　be　it。　He　left　her　to　her　plaints　and　faced　the　street。
　　It　was　late　November；　and　chilly。　No　balm　in　the　night　air；　just　the　smell　of　tar　from　a　freshly　laid　road；　and　grit　in　the　wind。
　　Galloway　pulled　his　jacket　collar　up　around　the　back　of　his　neck；　and　hurried　off　to　the　questionable　refuge　of　Murphy's　Bed　and　Breakfast。
　　In　the　foyer　Tallulah　turned　her　back　on　the　cold　and　dark　of　the　outside　world；　and　shuffled　back　into　the　temple　of　dreams。　It　smelt　so　weary　now：　stale　with　use　and　age；　like　her　own　body。　It　was　time　to　let　natural　processes　take　their　toll；　there　was　no　point　in　letting　things　run　beyond　their　allotted　span。　That　was　as　true　of　buildings　as　of　people。　But　the　Elysium　had　to　die　as　it　had　lived；　in　glory。
　　Respectfully；　she　drew　back　the　red　curtains　that　covered　the　portraits　in　the　corridor　that　led　from　foyer　to　stalls。　Barrymore；　Irving：　great　names　and　great　actors。　Stained　and　faded　pictures　perhaps；　but　the　memories　were　as　sharp　and　as　refreshing　as　spring　water。　And　in　pride　of　place；　the　last　of　the　line　to　be　unveiled；　a　portrait　of　Constantia　Lichfield。　A　face　of　transcendent　beauty；　a　bone　structure　to　make　an　anatomist　weep。
　　She　had　been　far　too　young　for　Lichfield　of　course；　and　that　had　been　part　of　the　tragedy　of　it。　Lichfield　the　Svengali；　a　man　twice　her　age；　had　been　capable　of　giving　his　brilliant　beauty　everything　she　desired；　fame；　money；　panionship。　Everything　but　the　gift　she　most　required：　life　itself。
　　She'd　died　before　she　was　yet　twenty；　a　cancer　in　the　breast。　Taken　so　suddenly　it　was　still　difficult　to　believe　she'd　gone。
　　Tears　brimmed　in　Tallulah's　eyes　as　she　remembered　that　lost　and　wasted　genius。　So　many　parts　Constantia　would　have　illuminated　had　she　been　spared。　Cleopatra；　Hedda；　Rosalind；　Electra。　。
　　But　it　wasn't　to　be。　She'd　gone；　extinguished　like　a　candle　in　a　hurricane；　and　for　those　who　were　left　behind　life　was　a　slow　and　joyless　march　through　a　cold　land。　There　were　mornings　now；　stirring　to　another　dawn；　when　she　would　turn　over　and　pray　to　die　in　her　sleep。
　　The　tears　were　quite　blinding　her　now；　she　was　awash。　And　oh　dear；　there　was　somebody　behind　her；　probably　Mr　Galloway　back　for　something；　and　here　was　she；　sobbing　fit　to　burst；　behaving　like　the　silly　old　woman　she　knew　he　thought　her　to　be。　A　young　man　like　him；　what　did　he　understand　about　the　pain　of　the　years；　the　deep　ache　of　irretrievable　loss？　That　wouldn't　e　to　him　for　a　while　yet。　Sooner　than　he　thought；　but　a　while　nevertheless。
　　〃Tallie；〃　somebody　said。
　　She　knew　who　it　was。　Richard　Walden　Lichfield。　She　turned　round　and　he　was　standing　no　more　than　six　feet　from　her；　as　fine　a　figure　of　a　man　as　ever　she　remembered　him　to　be。　He　must　be　twenty　years　older　than　she　was；　but　age　didn't　seem　to　bow　him。
　　She　felt　ashamed　of　her　tears。
　　〃Tallie；〃　he　said　kindly；　〃I　know　it's　a　little　late；　but　I　felt　you'd　surely　want　to　say　hello。〃
　　〃Hello？〃　The　tears　were　clearing；　and　now　she　saw　Lichfield's　panion；　standing　a　respectful　foot　or　two　behind　him；　partially　obscured。　The　figure　stepped　out　of　Lichfield's　shadow　and　there　was　a　luminous；　fine…boned　beauty　Tallulah　recognized　as　easily　as　her　own　reflection。　Time　broke　in　pieces；　and　reason　deserted　the　world。　Longed…for　faces　were　suddenly　back　to　fill　the　empty　nights；　and　offer　fresh　hope　to　a　life　grown　weary。　Why　should　she　argue　with　the　evidence　of　her　eyes？
　　It　was　Constantia；　the　radiant　Constantia；　who　was　looping　her　arm　through　Lichfield's　and　nodding　gravely　at　Tallulah　in　greeting。
　　Dear；　dead　Constantia。
　　
　　The　rehearsal　was　called　for　nine…thirty　the　following　morning。　Diane　Duvall　made　an　entrance　her　customary　half　hour　late。　She　looked　as　though　she　hadn't　slept　all　night。
　　〃Sorry　I'm　late；〃　she　said；　her　open　vowels　oozing　down　the　aisle　towards　the　stage。
　　Galloway　was　in　no　mood　for　foot…kissing。
　　〃We've　got　an　opening　tomorrow；〃　he　snapped；　〃and　everybody's　been　kept　waiting　by　you。〃
　　〃Oh　really？〃　she　fluttered；　trying　to　be　devastating。　It　was　too　early　in　the　morning；　and　the　effect　fell　on　stony　ground。
　　〃OK；　we're　going　from　the　top；〃　Galloway　announced；　〃and　everybody　please　have　your　copies　and　a　pen。　I've　got　a　list　of　cuts　here　and　I　want　them　rehearsed　in　by　lunchtime。　Ryan；　have　you　got　the　prompt　copy？〃　There　was　a　hurried　exchange　with　the　ASM　and　an　apologetic　negative　from　Ryan。
　　〃Well　get　it。　And　I　don't　want　any　plaints　from　anyone；　it's　too　late　in　the　day。　Last　night's　run　was　a　wake；　not　a　performance。　The　cues　took　forever；　the　business　was　ragged。　I'm　going　to　cut；　and　it's　not　going　to　be　very　palatable。〃　It　wasn't。　The　plaints　came；　warning　or　no；　the　arguments；　the　promises；　the　sour　faces　and　muttered　insults。　Galloway　would　have　rather　been　hanging　by　his　toes　from　a　trapeze　than　manoeuvring　fourteen　highly…strung　people　through　a　play　two…thirds　of　them　scarcely　understood；　and　the　other　third　couldn't　give　a　monkey's　about。　It　was　nerve…wracking。
　　It　was　made　worse　because　all　the　time　he　had　the　prickly　sense　of　being　watched；　though　the　auditorium　was　empty　from　Gods　to　front　stalls。　Maybe　Lichfield　had　a　spy　hole　somewhere；　he　thought；　then　condemned　the　idea　as　the　first　signs　of　budding　paranoia。
　　At　last；　lunch。
　　Galloway　knew　where　he'd　find　Diane；　and　he　was　prepared　for　the　scene　he　had　to　play　with　her。　Accusations；　tears；　reassurance；　tears　again；　reconciliation。　Standard　format。
　　He　knocked　on　the　Star's　door。
　　〃Who　is　it？〃　Was　she　crying　already；　or　talking　through　a　glass　of　something　forting。
　　〃It's　me。〃
　　〃Oh。〃
　　〃Can　I　e　in？〃
　　〃Yes。〃　She　had　a　bottle　of　vodka；　good　vodka；　and　a　glass。　No　tears　as　yet。
　　〃I'm　useless；　aren't　I？〃　she　said；　almost　as　soon　as　he'd　closed　the　door。　Her　eyes　begged　for　contradiction。
　　〃Don't　be　silly；〃　he　hedged。
　　〃I　could　never　get　the　hang　of　Shakespeare；〃　she　pouted；　as　though　it　were　the　Bard's　fault。　〃All　those　bloody　words。〃　The　squall　was　on　the　horizon；　he　could　see　it　mustering。
　　〃It's　all　right；〃　he　lied；　putting　his　arm　around　her。　〃You　just　need　a　little　time。〃　Her　face　clouded。
　　〃We　open　tomorrow；〃　she　said　flatly。　The　point　was　difficult　to　refute。
　　〃They'll　tear　me　apart；　won't　they？〃　He　wanted　to　say　no；　but　his　tongue　had　a　fit　of　honesty。　〃Yes。　Unless…；　〃I'll　never　work　again；　will　I？　Harry　talked　me　into　this；　that　damn　half…witted　Jew：　good　for　my　reputation；　he　said。　Bound　to　give　me　a　bit　more　clout；　he　said。　What　does　he　know？　Takes　his　ten　bloody　per　cent　and　leaves　me　holding　the　baby。　I'm　the　one　who　looks　the　damn　fool　aren't　I？〃　At　the　thought　of　looking　a　fool；　the　storm　broke。　No　light　shower　this：　it　was　a　cloudburst　or　nothing。　He　did　what　he　could；　but　it　was　difficult。　She　was　sobbing　so　loudly　his　pearls　of　wisdom　were　drowned　out。　So　he　kissed　her　a　little；　as　any　decent　director　was　bound　to　do；　and　（miracle　upon　miracle）　that　seemed　to　do　the　trick。　He　applied　the　technique　with　a　little　more　gusto；　his　hands　straying　to　her　breasts；　ferreting　under　her　blouse　for　her　nipples　and　teasing　them　between　thumb　and　forefinger。
　　It　worked　wonders。　There　were　hints　of　sun　between　the　clouds　now；　she　sniffed　and　unbuckled　his　belt；　letting　his　heat　dry　out　the　last　of　the　rain。　His　fingers　were　finding　the　lacy　edge　of　her　panties；　and　she　was　sighing　as　he　investigated　her；　gently　but　not　too　gently；　insistent　but　never　too　insistent。　Somewhere　along　the　line　she　knocked　over　the　vodka　bottle　but　neither　of　them　cared　to　stop　and　right　it；　so　it　sloshed　on　to　the　floor　off　the　edge　of　the　table；　counter　pointing　her　instructions；　his　gasps。
　　Then　the　bloody　door　opened；　and　a　draught　blew　up　between　them；　cooling　the　point　at　issue。
　　Galloway　almost　turned　round；　then　realized　he　was　unbuckled；　and　stared　instead　into　the　mirror　behind　Diane　to　see　the　intruder's　face。　It　was　Lichfield。　He　was　looking　straight　at　Galloway；　his　face　impassive。
　　〃I'm　sorry；　I　should　have　knocked。〃　His　voice　was　as　smooth　as　whipped　cream；　betraying　nary　a　tremor　of　embarrassment。　Galloway　wedged　himself　away；　buckled　up　his　belt　and　turned　to　Lichfield；　silently　cursing　his　burning　cheeks。
　　〃Yes。。　。　it　would　have　been　polite；〃　he　said。
　　〃Again；　my　apologies。　I　wanted　a　word　with…〃　his　eyes；　so　deep…set　they　were　unfathomable；　were　on　Diane　〃…your　star；〃　he　said。
　　Galloway　could　practically　feel　Diane's　ego　expand　at　the　word。　The　approach　confounded　him：　had　Lichfield　undergone　a　volte…face？　Was　he　ing　here；　the　repentant　admirer；　to　kneel　at　the　feet　of　greatness？
　　〃I　would　appreciate　a　word　with　the　lady　in　private；　if　that　were　possible；〃　the　mellow　voice　went　on。
　　〃Well；　we　were　just…〃
　　〃Of　course；〃　Diane　interrupted。　〃Just　allow　me　a　moment；　would　you？〃　She　was　immediately　on　top　of　the　situation；　tears　forgotten。
　　〃I'll　be　just　outside；〃　said　Lichfield；　already　taking　his　leave。
　　Before　he　had　closed　the　door　behind　him　Diane　was　in　front　of　the　mirror；　tissue…wrapped　finger　skirting　her　eye　to　divert　a　rivulet　of　mascara。
　　〃Well；〃　she　was　cooing；　〃how　lovely　to　have　a　well…wisher。　Do　you　know　who　he　is？〃
　　〃His　name's　Lichfield；〃　Galloway　told　her。　〃He　used　to　be　a　trustee　of　the　theatre。〃
　　〃Maybe　he　wants　to　offer　me　something。〃
　　〃I　doubt　it。〃
　　〃Oh　don't　be　such　a　drag　Terence；〃　she　snarled。　〃You　just　can't　bear　to　have　anyone　else　get　any　attention；　can　you？〃
　　〃My　mistake。〃　She　peered　at　her　eyes。
　　〃How　do　I　look？〃　she　asked。
　　〃Fine。〃
　　〃I'm　sorry　about　before。〃
　　〃Before？〃
　　〃You　know。〃
　　〃Oh。。。　yes。〃
　　〃I'll　see　you　in　the　pub；　eh？〃　He　was　summarily　dismissed　apparently；　his　function　as　lover　or　confidante　no　longer　required。
　　In　the　chilly　corridor　outside　the　dressing　room　Lichfield　was　waiting　patiently。　Though　the　lights　were　better　here　than　on　the　ill…lit　stage；　and　he　was　closer　now　than　he'd　been　the　night　before；　Galloway　could　still　not　quite　make　out　the　face　under　the　wide　brim。　There　was　something　…what　was　the　idea　buzzing　in　his　head？…something　artificial　about　Lichfield's　features。　The　flesh　of　his　face　didn't　move　as　interlocking　system　of　muscle　and　tendon；　it　was　too　stiff；　too　pink；　almost　like　scar…tissue。
　　〃She's　not　quite　ready；〃　Galloway　told　him。
　　〃She's　a　lovely　woman；〃　Lichfield　purred。
　　〃Yes。〃
　　〃I　don't　blame　you。。。〃
　　〃Um。〃
　　〃She's　no　actress　though。〃
　　〃You're　not　going　to　interfere　are　you；　Lichfield？　I　won't　let　you。〃
　　〃Perish　the　thought。〃　The　voyeuristic　pleasure　Lichfield　had　plainly　taken　in　his　embarrassment　made　Galloway　less　respectful　than　he'd　been。
　　〃I　won't　have　you　upsetting　her…〃
　　〃My　interests　are　your　interests；　Terence。　All　I　want　to　do　is　see　this　production　prosper；　believe　me。　Am　I　likely；　under　those　circumstances；　to　alarm　your　Leading　Lady？　I'll　be　as　meek　as　a　lamb；　Terence。〃
　　〃Whatever