A Christmas Gift. Ruby Jackson

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СКАЧАТЬ you are, you hear the warning, you drop everything and come here. Everyone get that?’ Max Hunter, the director looked, as it seemed, into the eyes of every new recruit and waited until they nodded affirmatively.

      Sebastian Brady was only one of thousands of professional actors, singers, dancers, musicians, comedians – many of them world famous – who were prepared to give up their time to entertaining servicemen wherever they were in the fields of war, although a long, tough battle had had to be fought and won before ENSA came into being.

      ‘Basil Dean and Lesley Henson were the creative brains behind the idea of ENSA, Sally,’ he told her. ‘They both served in the Great War, and had done some entertaining in the field. After the war, they went back to acting and filming and, of course, since they started the film careers of stars like Gracie Fields and George Formby, they had great contacts. But they had to fight to get ENSA off the ground as so much money was needed for actual warfare. Eventually the NAAFI helped out financially and now, I think everyone in Government believes in our work.’

      Sebastian had worked with both men and he had recommended Sally.

      ‘She has natural talent,’ he had told them, ‘and, thankfully, hasn’t had time to develop bad habits by working too long for the wrong people. Some of your training will make a duckling into a little swan and, while we’re talking about ducklings, there’s no ugly one here – she’s a stunner.’

      Sally had been called in for an audition.

      When, over breakfast at home, she opened the letter requesting she attend, for a minute or two she was excited. Bubbles of joy burst inside her and she pictured them sending out tiny sparkling lights. Then realisation cancelled her euphoria. An audition? What on earth was she to do; how could she impress? Professional, experienced performers would be auditioning – what chance did she stand?

      She wondered if she dared contact Sebastian for advice but decided against it. ‘I can’t compete against a professional, Mum; they’ll laugh me off the stage.’

      ‘Don’t be silly, love. You were really good in the school plays, Shakespeare and Shaw and … writers like that. Besides, you have a nice singing voice. They’ll want to see all your talents so sing a song; one of the ones we hear soldiers asking for on the wireless. “The Nearness of You” is a big favourite, or “I Get Along Without You Very Well”. Your dad loves to hear you singing that around the house. I’d go for that one. Or you could recite a speech. You were so good as Juliet, and you can’t do better than Shakespeare, can you now? Wish I had time to make you a new frock. I thought your white Juliet dress was beautiful, and with your lovely hair hanging down on your shoulders … you’ll be perfect, Sally, you will.’

      ‘What if they ask me to dance?’

      ‘They won’t; they know you’re studying to be an actress. Actresses don’t dance; they speak.’

      Sally hoped her mother was right; even with Maggie’s tuition she knew she would never be dancing at Sadler’s Wells.

      She scarcely ate and hardly slept in the days before her audition but she did practise a few songs and went over and over Juliet’s ‘Wherefore art thou Romeo?’ speech until she and her parents were all heartily tired of it.

      The day of the audition dawned and Sally was appalled to see the length of the waiting line of candidates. Not only was she terrified but she decided that every female in the queue was not only prettier and more sophisticated, but also more intelligent than she. She barely managed to control her terror when she found herself standing on the actual stage where England’s theatrical greats had stood – it was some time before she knew that ‘her’ Theatre Royal was the third to stand on that hallowed spot, the previous ones having burned to the ground – and eventually went home so stricken with nerves that she couldn’t eat for a whole day.

      Thankfully they had not asked her to dance, they had asked her to walk across the stage, had listened to a few lines of her well-rehearsed Shakespeare and a verse of the poignant love song, then thanked her and called the next candidate. She had been quite sure that she had failed in every department. And then the letter came. She had been accepted. Somehow, miraculously, Sally Brewer was now a probationary member of ENSA.

      There could, however, be no celebration in the Brewer household that night as Ernie was due at the cinema.

      He hugged his daughter to him. ‘I never felt more like – what’s it they say – painting the town red, Sally, but the show must go on, as we showbiz folks say. Can hardly believe my little girl’ll be saying it soon, too. Course we’ll miss you, love, and you know your old dad, I’ll always worry about you, every moment, but you’re a clever, sensible girl and you won’t do anything stupid.’

      ‘Of course not.’

      ‘And remember, you can come home at any time if anything worries you. Just get on a train. Right?’

      ‘Right, Dad.’

      She returned his hug. ‘I’ll come with you and Mum; I’ll sell the potato crisps and the ice cream. Probably be the last time I’ll ever work with you.’

      ‘Oh, don’t say that, love; that’s sad,’ said Elsie.

      ‘You’d rather I stayed here selling Smith’s crisps, Mum?’ Sally teased her mother.

      Elsie pulled on her coat. ‘Don’t be daft, but I don’t like saying “the last time”.’

      ‘Get a move on,’ teased Ernie, ‘or it’ll be the last time either of you will work for me.’

      Sally enjoyed her last evening as a cinema usherette and next morning went to the theatre to resign.

      ‘Dahling, absolutely the wrong decision,’ Elliott said bluntly. ‘You’ll hate it, and I know they hold up names like Olivier and Richardson before your ambitious little eyes, but they’ll never join that motley crew. Would you take ten quid a week for the tours they’ll offer whenyou could be earning hundreds on the legitimate stage?You can’t believe a world-famous actor like Ralph Richardson will go traipsing all over the country to act in draughty church halls and old barns, and as for following the troops … He’s a star. Good heavens, someone even told me they had snaffled Gracie Fields. I ask you, the Gracie Fields. You’ve more chance of meeting her here, Sally, and besides, only last night we decided to stage a Noël Coward. Bit of a chestnut, Private Lives, but the punters do love it. Believe me, darling Sally, “resting” actors are queuing up like housewives outside the butcher’s , hoping that they’ll be taken on, and face it, sweetie, all with more training and experience than you.’

      He walked round the desk to lay his hand on her shoulder. Automatically Sally tensed and he moved away, smiling at her jovially.

      ‘Sally dahling, we have decided that you will make a lovely Sybil. Now can you abandon that opportunity for something that probably won’t get off the ground?’

      ‘Yes,’ Sally had answered emphatically.

      It was a decision she never regretted.

      The day before she left to live in London, Sally returned to the clothes shop where she had bought her cloak to see if there was anything suitable to wear in her new life, and in the hope of being able to say goodbye to Maude and Fedora. She was delighted to see that both the ladies were in the shop. They were talking to a man in naval uniform.

      ‘Good heavens, here she is,’ called СКАЧАТЬ