Jittery though they all were after this startling experience, the audition went off with surprising smoothness. Sir Brian, a handsome gentleman with beautiful manners, received them cordially, allowed them to rearrange his drawing room, and made them feel thoroughly at home. Peggy, though feeling too dazed at Paula’s behavior to be really aware of what she was doing, somehow turned in a fine performance. But even as she was acting to the climax of the scene she was aware that she was not so much playing the character of Alison as she was playing Paula’s version of Alison. At the scene’s end, Sir Brian and Lady Alwyne applauded enthusiastically, complimented Peggy especially, and thanked the company for their trouble in preparing the scene and coming uptown to act it. “It was most good of you,” Sir Brian exclaimed to Randy. “And I must compliment you on having found a company that does justice to your splendid play. And by the way,” he added in a quieter voice, “my check for five thousand dollars will be in the mail tomorrow.” “Five thousand?” Randy asked, startled. “But that’s really more than we need, sir.” “Nonsense,” Sir Brian said firmly. “There’s no such thing as too much money. You can use the extra for a little more advertising than you had planned, or for an extra bit of scenery or something. Now, I don’t like to hurry you along, but you really must excuse me if....” Thanking him profusely, Randy rounded up the cast, let them know the good news, and hurried them out. Only the cold bite of the night wind off the East River convinced him that the whole evening had not been some sort of fantastic dream, engendered by an overheated imagination. “The whole evening!” he said to Peggy, who was walking arm-in-arm with him a few paces behind Mal and Amy. “Everything about it seems completely unlikely!” “I know,” she agreed. “That fantastic spread at Paolo’s ... the peculiar business with Paula ... Sir Brian and Lady Alwyne, looking like a movie Lord and Lady sent in from Central Casting ... and then a check for five thousand dollars! It’s almost too much to believe!” “What do you think about Paula?” Randy asked. “Have you any idea what could have been behind that outburst of temperament?” “I don’t know,” Peggy said, “but I don’t think that temperament is the word to describe it. You know yourself that she’s not a prima donna type. She’s always cooperative, works hard at rehearsals, takes every direction that Mal gives her.... No. I know she’s not a temperamental person. This is something else; something we haven’t any idea about. But whatever it is, I think she’s in some kind of trouble, and I want to help her if I can.” “Mal says he doesn’t want to have her in the show any more,” Randy said. “He told me he thinks you can do a good job in the part. If you just forget about Paula, you can have the role.” “Randy!” Peggy said in a shocked voice. “Paula’s my friend, and I want to help her, not steal parts from her! And besides, I couldn’t possibly do Alison as well as she does. You saw for yourself tonight that I wasn’t creating a role. I was imitating a role. Paula’s a far better and more finished actress than I’ll be for many years, if ever, and I think that we owe it to your play to get her back, if she’ll come.” “And if Mal will have her,” Randy added. “And if she’s all right,” Peggy mused. “Randy, I’m really worried about her. Let me go talk to her right now for a half hour or so, and I’ll join you three for coffee after. When I’ve spoken to her, I’ll have a better idea, I know, about whether or not we can count on her. Leave it to me, will you, Randy?” Randy walked along in silence for a moment before replying. “All right,” he said. “I’m perfectly willing to trust your judgment, and I know that Mal will give every consideration to what you say. I guess it is a good idea for someone to go see her now. Whatever’s wrong with her, she’s gone through a bad evening and can use a friend.” After catching up with Amy and Mal and explaining what Peggy wanted to do, they arranged to meet at Dodo’s Coffeehouse downtown. Randy hailed a cab and helped Peggy in. “I think you’re right about Paula,” he said before closing the door. “And I’m glad you want to help her. Good luck!” At 36th Street, Peggy dismissed the cab, sure that she would find Paula at home. She pushed the button marked “ANDREWS” and waited a moment until the little speaker crackled and Paula’s voice, sounding tired and far away, answered, “Who is it?” “It’s Peggy Lane. May I come up to see you?” A moment’s hesitation, and then, “All right. Third floor rear.” A buzzer sounded in the green door, and Peggy let herself in. Going up in the little elevator, Peggy wondered again how Paula could afford to live in such an elegant place. She had some idea of the rents in these well-maintained remodeled buildings, and also some idea of what a salesgirl in a department store earned. “Well, it’s none of my business,” she told herself. “Maybe someone left her an income or something. Or maybe her parents pay the rent for her. But that’s not what I’m here to find out.” Paula, looking more pale, drawn, and tired than Peggy had ever seen her before, opened the door and motioned Peggy in. The apartment, obviously rented furnished, was comfortable enough, but almost without personality, like a hotel room. It consisted of one bedroom-sitting room, a compact kitchenette and a bath. The only sign that anyone lived in it was a small collection of books, no more than a dozen, on a shelf. “Sit down, Peggy,” Paula said formally. Then, as if she were asking about some event that didn’t concern her at all, but asking only out of politeness, she said, “And how did the audition go? Were you good? And did Sir Brian invest in the play?” “It went very well,” Peggy said gloomily, “considering that it was me and not you. Sir Brian is putting five thousand dollars into the production.” “Then I guess I’m fired,” Paula said, in the same lifeless tone. “You don’t have to be,” Peggy said. “If you can only explain—or just convince Mal and Randy in some way that it won’t happen again—I know they want you back!” “That’s nice of you, Peggy,” Paula said, “but I can’t explain. And there’s no point in my trying to. No, the part is yours.” “But I don’t want it!” Peggy said earnestly. “I’d never have been able to play that scene if I hadn’t seen you do it so often! All I was doing was a fair imitation. You’ve got to come back and do the part!” “Peggy,” Paula said with sudden intensity, “it’s not a question of my wanting to come back and do the part or not. It’s a question of being accepted back. Of course I want to do it! But Mal and Randy have to make the decision that they’re willing to let me come back after the terrible way I acted this evening.” “If you could just tell them why—” Peggy began. “I can’t. Honestly, I can’t,” Paula interrupted. “I would if I could, but if they’re going to take me back, it can’t depend on an explanation. They’ll just have to do it on faith—and on my promise that nothing like this will happen again. That’s the only assurance I can give them.” “Are you so sure it won’t?” Peggy asked. “I mean, it was such an emotional outburst, you hardly seemed to know what you were saying. How can you be positive that you won’t fly off again like that? I don’t mean to be hard on you, but they have to know.” “All I can say, Peggy,” Paula answered, “is that as long as the rehearsals are as private as they have been, and as long as Sir Brian doesn’t come around the theater till opening night, I’ll be all right.” “And after opening night?” Peggy pursued. “Oh, once we open, I don’t care who comes!” Paula said. “In fact, all I want is to have the whole world come to see us!” “Well,” Peggy said after a moment’s reflection, “I’m convinced that you’ll be all right, and I’ll do what I can to convince the boys. But I won’t mention what you said about Sir Brian not coming around. It’ll just sound peculiar, and I’m sure he won’t come anyhow, he’s so busy. We’ll be lucky if he even comes to a performance.” “Thanks, Peggy,” Paula said warmly. “Thank you so much for your faith in me. You’re a wonderful friend. And I know you’ll convince the boys! I’ll call you in the morning to find out, all right?” “Fine. Meanwhile you’d better get a good night’s sleep. You look as if you need some rest. We’ve all been worried about your health. I’ll see you tomorrow at the theater, I’m sure!” The whole visit with Paula had taken only fifteen minutes, and Peggy arrived at Dodo’s Coffeehouse only a minute after the others, who had taken a bus. She sat down and looked in silence at the three expectant faces that confronted her. “You look like baby birds,” she laughed, “waiting for a worm!” “How’s Paula?” Amy asked. “Is she all right?” “Yes, she’s all right,” Peggy replied, “and I think she’ll be all right for the rest of the play, too, if you’ll have her back, Mal. The only thing that troubles me is that she can’t—or won’t—explain what happened to her tonight. She wants to be in the play, but she says that if you want her, you’ll just have to take her back on faith.” “Is that all?” Mal asked. “That and her promise that it won’t happen again,” Peggy answered. “I know it sounds pretty unreasonable, but, Mal, I really believe she knows what she’s saying, and that she’ll be okay. I don’t know what’s wrong, but as I told Randy, I’m sure she’s in some kind of trouble, and if she is, we shouldn’t make it worse. I think we ought to try to help her in whatever way we can. Maybe if we trust her, and show her that we do by taking her back, she’ll get to trust us, and tell us what’s wrong. Anyway, I think that we should take the chance.” “How about you, Amy?” Mal asked. “I agree with Peggy,” she said. “Randy?” “I’m for taking her back. If not on her own word, then on Peggy’s. And besides, I think everybody ought to have a second chance.” “All right,” Mal said. “I don’t want to hold out against the rest of you. She’s back. Peggy, do you want to be the one to tell her?” “She’s going to call me in the morning to find out,” Peggy answered. “Good,” Mal said. “And while you’re at it, tell her she’d better start reading up on the whole play again, with special attention to Act One, Scene Three. That’s what we’re starting on in the next rehearsal tomorrow night.” That settled, they turned their attention to coffee and cake, and their conversation to the five-thousand-dollar investment and what they would do with it—as if, Peggy thought, it had been the least important part of the busy evening’s events! |