cb.booksofblood-第24节
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at industry upon。 No mere art could survive such pragmatism。
Tallulah was not in the box； nor in the foyer； nor in the Green Room。
Irritated both by Hammersmith's incivility and Tallulah's disappearance； Galloway went back into the auditorium to pick up his jacket and go to get drunk。 The rehearsal was over and the actors long gone。 The bare hedges looked somewhat small from the back row of the stalls。 Maybe they needed an extra few inches。 He made a note on the back of a show bill he found in his pocket： Hedges； bigger？
A footfall made him look up； and a figure had appeared on stage。 A smooth entrance； up…stage centre； where the hedges converged。 Galloway didn't recognize the man。
〃Mr Galloway？ Mr Terence Galloway？〃
〃Yes？〃 The visitor walked down stage to where； in an earlier age； the footlights would have been； and stood looking out into the auditorium。
〃My apologies for interrupting your train of thought。〃
〃No problem。〃
〃I wanted a word。〃
〃With me？〃
〃If you would。〃 Galloway wandered down to the front of the stalls； appraising the stranger。
He was dressed in shades of grey from head to foot。 A grey worsted suit； grey shoes； a grey cravat。 Pisselegant； was Galloway's first； uncharitable summation。 But the man cut an impressive figure nevertheless。 His face beneath the shadow of his brim was difficult to discern。
〃Allow me to introduce myself。〃 The voice was persuasive； cultured。 Ideal for advertisement voice…overs： soap mercials； maybe。 After Hammersmith's bad manners； the voice came as a breath of good breeding。
〃My name is Lichfield。 Not that I expect that means much to a man of your tender years。〃 Tender years： well； well。 Maybe there was still something of the wunderkind in his face。
〃Are you a critic？〃 Galloway inquired。
The laugh that emanated from beneath the immaculately…swept brim was ripely ironical。
〃In the name of Jesus； no；〃 Lichfield replied。
〃I'm sorry； then； you have me at a loss。〃
〃No need for an apology。〃
〃Were you in the house this afternoon？〃 Lichfield ignored the question。 〃I realize you're a busy man； Mr Calloway； and I don't want to waste your time。
The theatre is my business； as it is yours。 I think we must consider ourselves allies； though we have never met。〃 Ah； the great brotherhood。 It made Galloway want to spit； the familiar claims of sentiment。 When he thought of the number of so…called allies that had cheerfully stabbed him in the back； and in return the playwrights whose work he'd smilingly slanged； the actors he'd crushed with a casual quip。 Brotherhood be damned； it was dog eat dog； same as any over…subscribed profession。
〃I have；〃 Lichfield was saying； 〃an abiding interest in the Elysium。〃 There was a curious emphasis on the word abiding。 It sounded positively funereal from Lichfield's lips。 Abide with me。
〃Oh？〃
〃Yes； I've spent many happy hours in this theatre； down the years； and frankly it pains me to carry this burden of news。〃
〃What news？〃
〃Mr Galloway； I have to inform you that your Twelfth Night will be the last production the Elysium will see。〃 The statement didn't e as much of a surprise； but it still hurt； and the internal wince must have registered on Calloway's face。
〃Ah。。 。 so you didn't know。 I thought not。 They always keep the artists in ignorance don't they？ It's a satisfaction the Apollonians will never relinquish。 The accountant's revenge。〃
〃Hammersmith；〃 said Galloway。
〃Hammersmith。〃
〃Bastard。〃
〃His clan are never to be trusted； but then I hardly need to tell you that。〃
〃Are you sure about the closure？〃
〃Certainly。 He'd do it tomorrow if he could。〃
〃But why？ I've done Stoppard here； Tennessee Williams …always played to good houses。 It doesn't make sense。〃
〃It makes admirable financial sense； I'm afraid； and if you think in figures； as Hammersmith does； there's no riposte to simple arithmetic。 The Elysium's getting old。 We're all getting old。 We creak。 We feel our age in our joints： our instinct is to lie down and be gone away。〃 Gone away： the voice became melodramatically thin； a whisper of longing。
〃How do you know about this？〃
〃I was； for many years； a trustee of the theatre； and since my retirement I've made it my business to…what's the phrase？…keep my ear to the ground。 It's difficult； in this day and age； to evoke the triumph this stage has seen 。 。 。〃 His voice trailed away； in a reverie。 It seemed true； not an effect。
Then； business…like once more： 〃This theatre is about to die； Mr Galloway。 You will be present at the last rites； through no fault of your own。 I felt you ought to be 。
warned。〃
〃Thank you。 I appreciate that。 Tell me； were you ever an actor yourself？〃
〃What makes you think that？〃
〃The voice。〃
〃Too rhetorical by half； I know。 My curse； I'm afraid。 I can scarcely ask for a cup of coffee without sounding like Lear in the storm。〃 He laughed； heartily； at his own expense。 Galloway began to warm to the fellow。 Maybe he was a little archaic…looking； perhaps even slightly absurd； but there was a full…bloodedness about his manner that caught Galloway's imagination。 Lichfield wasn't apologetic about his love of theatre； like so many in the profession； people who trod the boards as a second…best； their souls sold to the movies。
〃I have； I will confess； dabbled in the craft a little；〃 Lichfield confided； 〃but I just don't have the stamina for it； I'm afraid。 Now my wife…〃 Wife？ Galloway was surprised Lichfield had a heterosexual bone in his body。
〃…My wife Constantia has played here on a number of occasions； and I may say very successfully。 Before the war of course。〃
〃It's a pity to close the place。〃
〃Indeed。 But there are no last act miracles to be performed； I'm afraid。 The Elysium will be rubble in six weeks〃 time； and there's an end to it。 I just wanted you to know that interests other than the crassly mercial are watching over this closing production。 Think of us as guardian angels。 We wish you well； Terence； we all wish you well。〃 It was a genuine sentiment； simply stated。 Galloway was touched by this man's concern； and a little chastened by it。 It put his own stepping…stone ambitions in an unflattering perspective。 Lichfield went on： 〃We care to see this theatre end its days in suitable style； then die a good death。〃
〃Damn shame。〃
〃Too late for regrets by a long chalk。 We should never have given up Dionysus for Apollo。〃
〃What？〃
〃Sold ourselves to the accountants； to legitimacy； to the likes of Mr Hammersmith； whose soul； if he has one； must be the size of my fingernail； and grey as a louse's back。 We should have had the courage of our depictions； I think。 Served poetry and lived under the stars。〃 Galloway didn't quite follow the allusions； but he got the general drift； and respected the viewpoint。
Off stage left； Diane's voice cut the solemn atmosphere like a plastic knife。
〃Terry？ Are you there？〃 The spell was broken： Galloway hadn't been aware how hypnotic Lichfield's presence was until that other voice came between them。 Listening to him was like being rocked in familiar arms。 Lichfield stepped to the edge of the stage； lowering his voice to a conspiratorial rasp。
〃One last thing； Terence…〃
〃Yes？〃
〃Your Viola。 She lacks； if you'll forgive my pointing it out； the special qualities required for the role。〃 Galloway hung fire。
〃I know；〃 Lichfield continued； 〃personal loyalties prevent honesty in these matters。〃
〃No；〃 Galloway replied； 〃you're right。 But she's popular。〃
〃So was bear…baiting； Terence。〃 A luminous smile spread beneath the brim； hanging in the shadow like the grin of the Cheshire Gat。
〃I'm only joking；〃 said Lichfield； his rasp a chuckle now。 〃Bears can be charming。〃
〃Terry； there you are。〃 Diane appeared； over…dressed as usual； from behind the tabs。 There was surely an embarrassing confrontation in the air。 But Lichfield was walking away down the false perspective of the hedges towards the backdrop。
〃Here I am；〃 said Terry。
〃Who are you talking to？〃 But Lichfield had exited； as smoothly and as quietly as he had entered。 Diane hadn't even seen him go。
〃Oh； just an angel；〃 said Galloway。
The first Dress Rehearsal wasn't； all things considered； as bad as Galloway had anticipated： it was immeasurably worse。 Cues were lost； props mislaid； entrances missed； the ic business seemed ill…contrived and laborious； the performances either hopelessly overwrought or trifling。 This was a Twelfth Night that seemed to last a year。 Halfway through the third act Galloway glanced at his watch； and realized an uncut performance of Macbeth （with interval） would now be over。
He sat in the stalls with his head buried in his hands； contemplating the work that he still had to do if he was to bring this production up to scratch。 Not for the first time on this show he felt helpless in the face of the casting problems。 Cues could be tightened； props rehearsed with； entrances practised until they were engraved on the memory。 But a bad actor is a bad actor is a bad actor。 He could labour till doomsday neatening and sharpening； but he could not make a silk p
