‘Actors?’
‘Very good, Walter. Actors. Your job is to servethe actors but above all your job is to serve me, the producer.’ Hamish gave Walter a gentle but firm push with his cane before placing it back on the floor with a click.
‘Yes, sir,’ Walter said, resisting the urge to rub his chest.
‘Yourplaceis to man this door without complaint and do as I say. My key.’
‘Please,’ said Lenny.
‘What?’ Hamish spat.
‘My key…please.’
‘Give me the damn key.’ Hamish opened his black gloved palm, waiting for Lenny to obey orders.
‘No.’ Lenny folded his arms. ‘Not until you show me the courtesy and respect I deserve as someone who works for you,sir.’
Hamish’s head whipped around at Lenny so hard Walter almost heard the fluid in his head slosh. ‘I’m warning you,’ he snarled.
‘Is it that hardto say please, Mr Producer?’ Lenny answered, taking the keys to dressing room one out from the wooden box on the wall.
‘It’d be far easier to have you fired.’ Hamish picked up his cane once more and pushed it into Lenny’s chest so hard he stumbled backwards into the wall, hitting his head on the shelf behind him and dropping his cigar.
‘All right, all right! No need for that! I’vejust been trying to teach the boy that a little bit of kindness is free, Hamish, that’s all!’
With another twist of his cane, which caused the shelf behind Lenny’s head to creak, Hamish pulled away.
‘Key.’
Still reluctant, Lenny placed the key in Hamish’s upturned palm as he snatched it away. ‘Out of my way.’ Hamish swept past Walter, bursting through the second set of doorsand down to his stage level dressing room.
‘Letters. Keys,’ Lenny mocked. ‘Whose side are you on, kid?’ Lenny brushed his shirt somewhat straight and picked up his cigar, the end of which was surprisingly still glowing.
‘I didn’t realise I had to take a side,’ Walter shrugged, rubbing his own chest.
‘Well, you do. There’s us, the little people who work our arses off for nextto nothing and then there’s them. The people who do very little and have everything to gain from everything that we do. We keep this theatre clean and in good working order, and it’s him who benefits.’ Lenny plonked himself down in his rickety chair. ‘Make yourself useful,’ he said and shooed him away.
Walter had learnt thatmake yourself usefulactually meantleave me aloneso he scurriedthrough the theatre like one of its resident mice, through the backstage corridors, down the stage left wing, through the pass door, down the stairs and into the auditorium and… there she was.
He hadn’t realised he’d smelt the fresh scent of her jasmine perfume in the corridor, but it was definitely drifting over him now from where Fawn sat in the stalls in row G, rustling through sheetsof paper and talking to herself. Walter cleared his throat and Fawn turned her head to the left, saw nothing, and returned to her script. Walter wanted to say something, but Fawn continued, engrossed in her work.
‘You’re teasing me,Lars!… Ugh, no…You’re teasing me, Lars. You must stop it immediately or I’ll…I’ll…argh, why can’t I remember this line?’
‘Need any help?’ Walter finallyplucked up the courage to speak, and Fawn jumped.
‘My goodness me! You can’t sneak up on people like that!’ she snapped, a hand delicately laid across the base of her pale throat. Walter couldn’t help but laugh as he walked further towards the centre of the stalls down row J.
‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’
‘You’re the boy from the other day!’
‘Boy?’ Walter laughedagain but stood a little taller. ‘I’m twenty-two. I’d definitely consider myself a man.’
‘Of course you would.’ She pursed her lips but still managed to smile, her eyes sparkling. ‘Girls are considered to be women through a means of physical changes, it seems. Not about how much they know of the world because they’re not reallyallowedto know much about the world. A boy, however, becomesa man when his mind is enriched, his heart hardened through experience and he’s had his way with a handful of women. Wouldn’t you agree?’ Fawn shuffled her pages into a neat pile as she talked.
‘Well, I…’ Walter took off his flat cap and ran his sweating palms around its rim.
‘So, tell me, Walter… are you a man?’ She placed the pile of papers on her crossed legs, leant her elbowon the back of the seat and casually placed her chin in the palm of her hand. Walter took a deep breath.
