Just in Time
“Emily, you are absolutely charming! Simply enchanting!” Charles Maxwell gallantly pressed a kiss to Emily’s gloved hand.
No, its all because of you! Emily blushed beneath her stage make-up. In the second act, I completely forgot my lines and nearly trippedyou saw, didnt you? If it hadnt been for your improvisation… Id love to play as you do: to suffer, to rejoice, as if its truly my own lifeto never flounder or lose my place. Charles, youre a real talent!
Nonsense, Em. Just a bit of foolingthats all. With time, youll learn to feel at home on stage, to loosen up. Then, and only then, will that sparkle appearthe gift of improvisation. Not, of course, off-script. Stick to the lines, as Mr. Sayers will have us all out the door otherwise, he chuckled knowingly. But you must learn to live on stage. Dont just follow the marks blindly.
No! Its a gift, Charles. Emily looked at him with frank admiration. He wasnt young, but his face still bore the traces of youthful charm, his eyes full of mischief and wisdom. Emily was likely already half in love, though she would never admit it. Charles was the perfect gentleman: witty, quick with a compliment, always smilingnothing like Emilys father. Her father only groused and complained day after day, and thought her acting career was little better than some tawdry job.
Why, Dad?! Emily would ask, her voice cracking with tears. Its an honest profession. There are famous actors everywhere, and some even get awards!
Ha! We know all about what happens backstage in those dressing rooms! Frank Evans, her father, would snap. He had worked his hands to the bone for Emily after her mother passeda stoic man, made hard by years of struggle. He believed Emilys choice to take up acting was akin to being a showgirl. He wanted to rant and cast her out, butwhat would the neighbours say? They all pitied Frank, after raising his child alone, burying his wife without shedding a single tear.
It was Charles Maxwell who first noticed Emily at a small local charity night, where she and her university friends performed silly skits for the students at Kings College. Charles son Henry studied therea notorious layabout, constantly in trouble with the Dean. More than once, Charles was summoned to school, but those meetings always ended with Dean Helen softening under his genial charm, flushed and giggling, while the renowned actor floated out, leaving a whiff of expensive cologne and an invitation to the theatre. Charles would slip Helen the best seats, and in return, shed turn a blind eye to Henrys little difficulties.
And it was on that little stage, under the harsh lights, that Charles first saw the spark in Emily. She acted decently, yes, but it was something elsea natural ease, a fresh honesty.
Shes got soul! Maxwell realised. A soul that rings out.
He invited her to join his theatre company. And her friends tooas extras, of course, because everyone needed experience.
It wasnt the Royal or the Old Vic, but it was a respected company, beloved by true aficionados of the classical stage. Emily loved it. Once, she journeyed to London to see a modern performancebare set, bizarre costumes, half-light… She came home disgruntled, straight to Maxwells dressing room.
Is this really the future of theatre, Charles? she sighed in despair. I want no part of it. I cant.
Oh, come off it, Em! The futures a long road. Therell be plenty you dont care for, and plenty to love. If youre a real actornot one of those pretendersadapt, blend in for a while. Later, when your names on every playbill in town, youll choose your parts and turn up your nose if you please. Earn it first.
There are so few of those chosen ones, Emily grumbled, rearranging creams and lotions on her dressing table before sneezing at a scent.
My dear! Charles looked slyly at her. Any rubbish can be served upif its with a fine wine! Be that fine bottle, Em. The dish, however strange, must be served well. Even in the oddest play, make it your masterpiece.
Im not up to it. She pulled a face at her reflection.
Maxwell slammed a fist to the table, veins standing out on his brow, scowl deepening.
Then you dont belong here! Off you go thento the library, as your father wishes! he barked.
Emily recoiled, clutching her chest, whispering apologies through frightened tears.
Maxwell called this a jolt. He thought nothing of delivering tough love; these pretty young things had grown too soft. Hed drive the point home, or show them the door.
Emily bolted from the room and huddled, small and trembling, in a dark corner of the stage. Fine wine, she thought. If I cant become that, I have no place under the lights at all.
She remembered the day she finished drama school, diploma in hand, when she presented herself at the theatre directors door.
She was given her first full contract, congratulated, then quickly shooed outNo time for chit-chat here!
Charles, waiting by the steps, handed her a bouquet of soft green roses and whisked her off to celebrate at a restaurant.
Oh really, Charles! This is too much! What would Mrs. Maxwell say? Emily protested.
Anna wants to congratulate you, love! She doesnt mind. Goodness, Em! Think shed be jealous of you? Charles threw back his head in laughter, whole-hearted and uninhibited.
Charles wifeAnna, never Ann, always Annahad once been an actress herself. She left the stage early when her voice failed.
Look after your throat, Em! Its your best weapon, even beyond that pretty face. Your voice can destroy or save, lift someone to the skies or grind them into the groundall with a word. I lost mine. Dont lose yours! Annas raspy whisper and perpetual cough kept her wrapped in shawls, but her sharp wit and warmth endured.
Anna accepted Emily from the start. She enjoyed their chats, their shared laughterunlike the feckless Henry. He played the clown off-stage, driving his parents mad, claiming his talent ran in the blood.
Emily was different. Whole. Bright. She could laugh at a dropped hat or burst into tears at a sudden rainstorm. She would jump up and act out scenes from Annas favourite plays.
Youre my little flame, Emily. Never go out, promise? Anna would whisper. You warm this house.
Perhaps Anna and Charles were the only souls to ever tell Emily she was goodnot just as an actress, but as a person. Her father was miserly with affection, and her relatives dismissed her career as folly. Why wave your skirts around? Why not get a real job? You werent born a Dame Judi Dench! theyd cackle at rare family gatherings.
Emily would escape those suffocating evenings, leaving her father to his sisters carols and sherry. She would wander the quiet roads, head cocked, letting the citys murmur and bustle inspire herIll act that No, not thisuntil she found herself at the Maxwells grand old flat, with its columns and ornate plasterwork.
Tea, Emily? You look like you need tea and a little peace, Anna would say, ushering her in.
The house always smelled of vanilla and fresh scones. Anna reigned supreme, with Charles at her side, joking that he was her footman.
The three of them would sit at the round table, sipping tea, talking of plays and dreams. Charles would strum his guitar, and the women would singAnna only for a moment, before coughing and passing the solo back to Emily.
Oh, Emily! You cant imaginehe shouts in his sleep, my Charles, shouting lines from plays! I get no rest, up all night! Anna would sigh, worry creasing her eyes. Is the theatre all right?
Alls wonderful, Emily would reply. Charles is marvelloushe always is. The house is sold out, the play is smart and modern, but subtle, too.
And again with all his admirers and those silly notes among the flowers! I suspect hes got a little affair on, now! Anna would exclaim, feigning outrage.
Oh, hardly! Emily would laugh, both of them knowing Charles faithfulness was absolute.
I found my masterpiece at Paddington. I dont care for imitations,” Charles always said, recalling how hed met Anna in tears at the railway station, her suitcase sprung open, its contents scattered over the platform, while the crowd hurried past. Hed rescued her, comforted her, bought a new suitcase, wooed her for months, and eventually, theyd married. My masterpieceno copies will do!
Still, bouquets and notes, perfume-scented letters, silent phone calls, and giggling girls always seemed to orbit Charles. He charmingly deflected them all, never wounding, ever the gentleman. Anna was amused by it: her husband in such demand proved shed chosen well.
But over time, even the flood of attention wore thin.
Why were you born so charming, Charles? shed scold him. So much heartbreak for a few square feet of Englandall your fault
He would only smile, draw her close, and kiss the top of her head. She seemed so small beside him. To him, though, she was a goddess. Hed do anything for Anna, anything at all.
Now Emily was a real actress, educated and on contract. Theyd just played the evening showapplause, bouquets pouring in like a river. All the women wanted to give their flowers to Charles. He passed them around the company, kissed outstretched hands, rolled his eyes heavenward after each curtain call. He was the god and devil of the troupe; the whole production seemed to balance on the edge of his energy. Some envied, others admired, and most clung to his orbit. He hadnt received Distinguished status yet, but all whispered, Any day now
Em, you coming? Someone knocked on Charles dressing room door. Were waiting!
Emily flushed. Its the girls. We wanted to celebrate, she stammered.
Charles shrugged, turning to wipe the thick stage make-up from his face.
Go on, Em. Dont keep them waiting. Always stay sure of yourself, hear? Mistakes, forgotten lines, wrong cueslet them be damned! Act from the heart! He winked at her reflection.
Emily nodded, hand on the door, then turned back.
See you tomorrow, Charles, she whispered.
Farewell, my friend! Farewell! Charles waved his hand melodramatically, as if to shoo her away.
When the door closed behind her, his smile fell away. He tore off his wig, tousled thinning hair, and exhaled in exhaustion. He reached for water. The decanter stood empty.
Never mind, Charlie, therell be tea at homeplenty at home, he muttered, pressing hands to his face, then hurriedly dressing himself again.
Emily forgot the theatre was closed the next dayeven rehearsals suspended for repairs, cleaning, a freshening up. She thought nothing of Charles final Farewell.
Next time she arriveda nod to the porter, a greeting to the costumersomething was in the air. She couldnt name it, except it felt as if nothing here would ever be the same.
Emily, have you heard?! Polly, her friend, burst into the lounge.
Heard what? Emily sipped her coffee.
Youre here scoffing cakes, but Charlesour Charles! Polly paused for effect, eyes wide.
What?! Whats happened?! Emily jumped, nearly spilling coffee.
Charleshes quit! Walked out, in the middle of the season! Was it something between you and him?
Polly thrived on gossip. She needled the cast for scraps to chew over with the othershow else does one survive backstage?
Walked out? Why? He never said anything to me! And what are you suggesting, Polly? Thats enough! Emily fled, snatching her coat, slamming the door as she left.
Emily, what about rehearsal? called Polly after her. If the director grew cross, Emilys part would be handed to Pollyitd suit her just fine…
Emily hurried through the rain-soaked street, questions pounding in her mind. It couldnt be true. Charles could never just leave! What would happen to themwhat would happen to her?
She rang and knocked at the Maxwells flat until her fists ached. The neighbours grew weary of the noise.
Do stop carrying on, young lady! snapped Mrs. Newton, poking her head out, Persian cat in arms. The cat regarded Emily with disdain. Another admirer, are you? Its tiresome, honestly. Theyve all gone, if you must know.
Gone? Gone where? Emily gasped. Her heart felt ready to leap from her chest and tumble down the tiled stairs, shattering into a crimson puddle.
Well, Charles took his wife to the seaside. Henry went with them, apparently. Enough now, lovepeople can live their lives without your interference! Mrs. Newton slammed her door, the cat yowled, something crashed in the flat.
That was Emilys heart…
When are they coming back? When? she cried at the closed door. No one answered. She mustnt meddle in other peoples livesshed been taught that, hadnt she?
Emily felt abandoned. Left outside the grocers, promised someone would come, but no one ever did. What would become of the theatre now? And of herself, Emily?
Her father, Frank, couldnt fathom why Emily had turned so glum, why she cried so often.
You in the family way, then? One of your actor friends? He deliberately spoke grufflythe very idea of womens business or pregnancy filled him with irritation, but this was worse, confirming his worst suspicions about her theatre life. Would he now have to pay for a discreet doctormore expense? Speak up, then!
He slammed the table so hard Emily jumped, then rose and quietly wiped her cheeks, heading to her room.
Where dyou think youre going? He pushed the door open, saw her packing.
Away from you, Dad. Away from your harshness, your coldness, the way you say you never loved me! Emily whispered. Im moving to the dormitory. Theyll give me a room.
And what about me? When the neighbours see you dancing about the stage, stomach out?! Frank stammered, blinking fast.
Whats that got to do with you, Dad? Im not pregnant, and you always think the worst of me. Im your daughter, yours and Mums, and you talk about me like Im some stray dog. No baby, and youll now live as you wish and Ill live as I must. Let me go, Dad!
Frank tried to grab her arm, but Emily wriggled free, tugged on her coat, and left
It was reckless to run away, tramping around the cold, ears tucked into her collar, stubbornly leaving her father to his drink and his grumbling, but Emily did what she could…
Emilyis that you? a voice called.
She turned. Across the street, Henry was trotting over, his long awkward legs making him look all elbows and knees.
What are you milling about for? Stepping into character? Come ongive me that suitcase, lass, he grinned, wresting it away. Come on, warm up a bit. You dont have the sense to walk barefoot, do you? None of you do! Henry chattered as Emily trotted at his heels.
He brought her inside, fetched the lift, rooted in his pockets for the keys. Get in! Change into something dry!
Emily shrank back.
Not like that, Em! Put on one of Mums things, Ill dry your clothes for you, he called from the other room.
Twenty minutes later, Emily was wrapped in Annas pyjamas, sipping hot milk in the Maxwells kitchen.
So now what? Why are you sighing? Howd you end up outside? Henry sounded genuinely frustrated.
Whats all this? she whispered.
Your feelings, all the sighs and stares, the cryptic looks. It sets me on edge. You should try talking to my dad. Not that you can nowhes gone, remember?
I know. I left home. Dad thinks Im pregnant by some fellow from the theatre, buthe just thinks badly of me. I just dont understand why your father lefthe was so loved by the public, adored by all those fans and admirers…
And admirers! winked Henry.
Its not like that! Hes my mentor, my idol, nothing more. Even you think Im up to somethingwhy did Charles leave the theatre?
Why do old men leave their jobs? Want a sandwich? Take it, for Gods sake. Henry handed her a mammoth cheese and ham sandwich.
She nodded.
He took early retirement, silly! Doesnt want to drop dead on stage. Not after those last scaresa spell with his heart three weeks back. Ambulance called again. He was running on fumes after each show. So he made up his mind. Enough.
He decided? Emily faltered. Heart problemsbut he looked fine… All those leaps and jokes and dances… Had it all been an act, too?
How will he live nowwithout it?
Oh, lord! Why are you lot obsessed with it? Ive never understood your plays. Give me a good book any daydo you actually read? Take another sandwich! He shoved one her way. Its just a job, like any other. You lot have convinced yourselves its special. Maybe only doctors compareyou give your souls, but all you save is feelings, not lives.
He pushed away his empty plate, staring out the window.
Youre crosswith your dad? Emily asked. She was angry at her own, but hed never been an actor.
Me? Nah! Dads connections make life easier for Mum and me. The house is full of flowerslike a greenhouse. Gorgeous women at the doorits a rose garden! But I wanted… just a normal dad, to play football, go hiking, have him come home after work and knock back a pint, swearing about the foreman or whoeverspend Saturday digging in the shedbring home a crooked little Christmas tree, hang lopsided ornaments, glass ones from Tesco, not Berlin. I wanted my dad to know how to cuss, so I could copy him, repeat his words like a prayer…
Ive got such a dad. I can sharealways moaning, slamming pints, and at weekends, glued to telly. Tempting, Henry. Really. Only thing is, he doesnt need me, and he only ever grumbles at me for existinghe couldve had an easier life if not for me, after Mum died.
They were silent for a while.
Yeah Henry sighed eventually. We dont get to choose our dads So what now? Youll live in the lounge for a bitIll keep the door shut. Dont worry. Dads back tomorrow, hell sort you out.
Hes coming back? Tomorrow? Emily broke into a trembling smile. Someone was looking for her after all, lost in the world, but soon to be found.
First complaining wheres he gone, then why so soon. Make up your mind, Em. Ive got an exam in the morningrest up. He disappeared into his room.
For a long time, Emily stood there, thinking. Are all true actors terrible fathers, she wondered? Do they simply vanish? How do you just walk away from the theatreas if it were any ordinary job?
Charles Maxwell returned near noonrolled through the door singing something from G&S before he paused in the hall.
Hello, Em! Cant say I expected this. Henry, is that your doing?
I left home, Henry helped me warm up. Ill go soona rooms waiting at the hall of residence. Please dont worry! Charleshow could you leave? she sighed.
Oh, right in the door, and the scolding starts! Charles laughed. Yes, I left. I will get myself a dog and an aquarium, and play chess with Henry and go to matches! You cant imagine how lovely it is to not rush to the theatre! And yeswhats that smell? Stew! Im famished! So, Emilywill you feed an old man?
She nodded, laid the table, fussed around the elderly actor now squeezed into the kitchen chair.
Youre not old! Emily burst out, as Charles sat.
I am, Emily! Oh, I am! he nodded, eyes full of tired joy. Remember, Em, leave while youre at your best. This nonsense about dying on stagetheres no virtue in it. While you still can, before decrepitude, before you drop props or stumble on stairsbefore pity overtakes awe, leave gracefully. Id hate to be whispered about as some relic, hogging the spotlight. I wasnt fainting on stage yet, but I felt how close it was. Its age, Emily. But theres life to live! Anna needs me, and I want to tend to my orchids… So thats that.
Perhaps Charles was persuading Emilyor himselfbut he felt no regret. He would be remembered, as he wished.
Maybe you should have made it officiala grand send-off, the bows, the tributes Emily blushed under his gaze.
Rubbish! Save the pageantry for the hereafter. Dont make a circus over it. Charles made a show of his irritation, then retreated to wash up.
Whats doing at the theatre? Managing without me? he asked later, tucking into Emilys cooking.
Emily shrugged. Nothing had really changed. There was a new actor in his place, the show went on, the audience still clamoured, new talents sprang up, new names drew crowds.
See? Your world didnt crumble. But minemines blossoming! Charles twinkled.
Emily nodded, outwardly agreeing, but inside mourned that such a magnificent, monstrously gifted man could just leaveput in a resignation, and walk away. Like quitting a factory job.
Charles, as promised, adopted a scruffy mutt (real smarts, you know), set up an aquarium, spent evenings netting out fish, purchasing odd weeds from specialists. He played chess and draughts with Henry, read the papers, basked on the balcony. Anna scolded him for his indecent attire; he only laughed. Now he was a private person, enjoying it all.
He never went to the theatre again, protesting that he didnt careall a lie. He yearned for it, but feared falling helplessly back into that dizzy, electric world.
He was remembered as a tall, handsome charmer, the man every woman fanciednot truly him, but the role he played for them. The darling! The Sir! The knight! Only Anna saw his frailtyhis furrowed brow, faded gaze, trembling hands, and stooped frame were left behind, out of sight, just as hed wished.
Emilynow Mrs. Henry Maxwell (for who could doubt that Henry would snatch such a brilliant soul)was welcome in the Maxwell home, part of the family. Shed witnessed the whole actors arcbrilliant debut to dimming twilight.
You step down while youre still shining, Emily, Charles would say, covering her hand with his own rough, warm palm. Dont wait until youre tumbling down. Few can offer up their decline and not become a pitiable figure. Dont risk it, Em. Everything must happen in its own time. obey those boundariesleave with pride. Understand?
Emily nodded. She tried to remember every word he ever shared. Her journey was only beginningthere would be tears, hardship, broken dreams, and rebirths; she was a woman, after all. Yet Charles Maxwell would always stand behind her.
Improvise, Emily! Simply live! she would hear his whisper, smile, and sigh. She was luckyshed had a true teacher. Pity he left so soon, or perhaps, shed arrived too late.
