silver screen creaked through the waiting-room towards the big red leather door and disappeared behind it. Sid sat next to Lennie Price on the still-warm seat left vacant by the old screen lover. Lennie looked at Sid and, with a smile, said, ‘I’m Lennie Price.’
‘Sid Lewis.’
They shook hands.
‘I saw you at the Starlight Rooms, when the Three Degrees were there. Great,’ Lennie said.
Sid didn’t know whether he was saying that Sid was great or the Three Degrees. He took no chances. ‘Yes, they were.’
‘Fantastic.’
‘Great.’
The actor with a small ‘a’ was reading the television part of The Stage and never once looked up.
‘Does Leslie do your work, then?’ asked Lennie.
‘Yes. I’ve been with this office over six years now.’
‘I’m hoping to see him. I’d like him to do my work. Do you think he’s any good?’
‘Kept me in pretty regular work.’
The red leather door opened and out came the ex-silver screen lover. You could tell by the look on his face that work was not coming his way that day. He left the waiting-room without a word.
‘Who’s at the Starlight Rooms this week?’ asked Lennie.
‘Cliff.’
‘Cliff?’
‘Richard.’
‘Great.’
The actor asked, ‘What time is Mr Maybanks due?’
‘I’ll ask his secretary,’ said the pretty typist. She dialled a number and asked, ‘What time is Mr Maybanks due? I see. Thank you.’ She put the receiver down and looked at the actor. ‘Not till Thursday. He’s been delayed in Canada.’
‘Oh. I thought he was due back yesterday.’
‘He was, but it’s snowing in Canada.’
‘Yes. Well, I’ll call again on Thursday.’
‘Fine. Who shall I say will be calling?’
‘Colin Webster.’
Of course, thought Sid, Colin Webster.
‘Goodbye, Mr Webb,’ said the pretty secretary.
Exit stage left, thought Sid.
Behind the big red leather door Sid and Lennie heard male and female laughter. Leslie held the door open for a woman called Marcia Vaughan, the best stripper in the country. Well, if not the best, certainly the fastest. The star of all the sexy revues.
‘Hello, Sid,’ she said. ‘How’s Carrie and Elspeth?’
‘Fine, thanks. Reggie okay?’
‘As good as he’ll ever be. That’s not saying much. I think he thinks it’s fallen off. He’s put on so much weight. I see it more than he does. Goodbye, darling.’ A kiss was exchanged that wouldn’t have shocked a vicar’s maiden aunt. ‘Bye everyone,’ she said and left.
‘Bye, darlink.’ Leslie smiled at everyone in the little room and they all dutifully smiled back. He seemed to be enjoying a certain power. Slowly he lit a small seven-inch Havana cigar. ‘Sid,’ his voice cracked. Sid jumped up to follow him through the red door. He noticed it wasn’t held open for him as it had been for Marcia.
‘How’s Coral?’ Leslie asked.
‘Carrie’s fine, thank you.’
‘Good.’ They were now halfway up the small corridor. ‘And the kids?’
‘She’s fine.’
‘Good.’
They entered his office. It was very large. A beautiful desk was placed so that Leslie sat with his back to the window and a couple of easy chairs were on the other side facing him. On a bright day you had the sun in your eyes so that you could not see him clearly. You were always in an inferior position. You were being looked down upon. A psychological advantage. A beautiful, small carriage clock was facing you. It had a loud tick. Leslie always kept turning it towards you and he always gave you the impression that you were wasting his time.
‘Sit down, Sid,’ he said.
‘Thanks. I … er … won’t keep you. I know how busy you …’
‘Good.’ Leslie turned the clock full-face towards Sid and rested his hand on it.
‘It’s … er … just to … you know, er … to … er. How’s Rhoda?’
‘Who?’
‘Rhoda. Your wife.’
‘Haven’t you heard?’
‘What?’ Sid asked, with fear in his voice.
Leslie Garland’s eyes raked Sid’s now almost quivering face. ‘No matter.’ He looked at the clock again.
Sid wondered whether to ask about Rhoda or to carry on about himself. What he said was, ‘Oh, I’m really sorry about that.’
‘About what?’ Leslie asked.
‘Rhoda,’ answered Sid, giving a sickly grin.
‘What about Rhoda?’
‘What you said,’ Sid said, with a nervously drying mouth. ‘Carrie will be upset.’
‘Who’s Carrie?’
‘My wife,’ Sid replied through an almost closed mouth.
‘What is it you want to see me about, Sid?’ Leslie asked with a small sign of temper.
‘Well,’ Sid began, ‘I’ve been working at the club now for two years or so and I thought …’ The phone rang.
Leslie raised his hand from the clock and picked up the phone. ‘Yes?’ he shouted.
Sid stopped talking and tried to give a non-listening look.
‘Shirley who?’ Leslie bellowed. ‘Okay. Put her on. Hello, Shirl. Yeh. Fine. How’s Warren? Good. Give him my very best. And he should live to be 120. Rhoda? Haven’t you heard? We’ve split. Yeh. She took off with the chauffeur. Yeh. Last week.’ He nodded to the phone. ‘Don’t worry. Everything you’ve asked for has been done. I promise.’
Sid was looking at some pictures around the walls.
‘Yeh, the orchestra. Everything. The advance? Great. It’s great.’ Leslie smiled for the first time. ‘You’ll
