Beth
Beth
‘I’ve had this idea,’ she says to her agent, Zoe.
They are having lunch at Joe Allen’s. A catch-up, ostensibly, but in reality a chance for them to make a plan. Because despite all the parts Beth has been offered lately, none of them has appealed.
‘Oh?’
‘Don’t laugh. But I want to write something.’
Zoe spreads a sliver of butter onto the piece of bread by her side.
‘Why would I laugh?’
‘Because it’s hackneyed? Because all actors say they’re going to write something and most never do, or if they do, it’s terrible?’
‘I don’t think that’s entirely true,’ Zoe says. ‘But go on.’
Beth takes a deep breath.
‘I don’t really know where to start.’
She wonders how writers do this. Talk about their work when it doesn’t actually exist yet. It’s excruciating. Like telling someone your most embarrassing secret.
‘Well, why don’t you tell me a bit about what kind of thing you want to write? I take it it’s not going to be a comedy.’
Zoe arches an eyebrow. Beth feels her shoulders relax slightly.
‘You know me so well.’ She pauses. ‘No, it’s… I was thinking more of a one-woman show. A monologue. About my life. Does that sound horribly narcissistic? I guess so. It’s just… the things that have happened to me. Losing Vaughan, but also my relentless pursuit of this career… there’s a lot to process. God, that sounds so hideous when I say it aloud, but it’s true. And I thought, if no one wants to cast me anymore, then perhaps I can create my own work for once.’
Zoe frowns.
‘You might have to pitch it better than that.’
Beth laughs, but inside her stomach the knot grows larger. She knows though. She knows she has to listen to that knot.
She knows she has to do what she’s most afraid of. And what she’s most afraid of is being honest with the world.
‘There’s someone in my life,’ she says, and her cheeks heat up with the thought of it. ‘Someone I’ve known for years. I met him on my first day at university. We were… I don’t know, it sounds so daft now, but I thought he was the one. We were just at the start of things and then, there was this awful fire at our halls of residence. One of our flatmates was killed.’
Zoe looks shocked.
‘What?’
Beth stares down at her lap. She doesn’t want to use this – Anna’s tragedy – as something to further her career.
‘It was… horrific. But I don’t want to… it’s not really about that. It’s about the aftermath. This guy and me… Things between us were difficult for a while but we reconnected after I left university. He’s always been there. I used to think…’
‘You know this is beginning to sound a bit like a midlife crisis, don’t you?’ Zoe says, but her tone is kind.
‘No,’ Beth says. ‘No it’s not. I promise. I was so in love with him, for a while. But timing… is everything isn’t it? In relationships? It’s all about being in the right place and the right time. And the trauma of what we went through… The memory of it never left us. It was like a curse. It feels like it’s pushed us apart every time we’ve tried to get close.’
‘Perhaps it would be better if you told him this.’
Beth feels the heat rise to her cheeks.
‘Oh! No. He’s got a girlfriend… And he was married and divorced before that! It’s not… I’m not being clear. I want to talk about the missed opportunities, the Sliding Doors moments, the people we love and lose, the impact this has on us… about how some things are bigger than love. About how some obstacles can’t be overcome.’ She pauses, takes another gulp of air. ‘And I want to talk about courage. About how doing the thing you’re most afraid of is the thing that will make your life worth living.’
Zoe leans back in her chair.
‘OK,’ she says. ‘But perhaps it would be better if we discussed it once you’d made a start. What do you think?’
Beth nods. Her cheeks flame. Zoe isn’t taking her seriously, she’s being humoured.
‘OK, you’re on. I’ll write it and send it to you.’
‘I’m serious though, Beth,’ Zoe says. ‘If this is what you want to do, I can certainly put some feelers out. I can think of at least three directors who’d love to take something like this on. But the material needs to be good. I’m not here to blow smoke up your backside. If you try to do something that’s not up to scratch, they will tear you apart and take great delight in doing so. And more than anything else, you need to be sure that it’s what you want. Because it could so easily backfire. It might have worked for Phoebe Waller-Bridge, but there are God-knows-how-many more actresses like her who’ve tried and failed to pull off something similar. Sorry to be a downer, but it’s true.’
‘I know. A lot of actresses think their life stories are interesting when in reality…’
‘No, it’s not that. It’s just, you have to work out what you’re trying to achieve. Career-wise. What you’ve already achieved is so amazing, you do know that? You don’t want to panic and rush into sharing something you might later regret.’
For some reason, Beth’s mind drifts back to that rehearsed reading, back at university. When Nick showed up. She thinks of how terrified she’d been beforehand, the high she felt afterwards when she knew it had gone well. There have been moments like that in her career, over the past two decades, but nothing like that first terror she felt at having performed with people who took the work as seriously as she did. The terror, followed by the elation.
Vaughan was always pushing her to be brave. But has she been? Not really. Some of the parts she’s known for have stretched her, but mostly the roles she’s played have been safe. Expected. Her career has followed a tried and tested trajectory.
This would be anything but safe.
And perhaps, deep down, Zoe has a point. Perhaps there’s more to this idea than she’s admitting to herself.
Perhaps it’s a way she can communicate to Nick some of the things she’s never been able to say to him aloud.