Chapter 48
SWEET CHARITY
LOURDES
“You’re still here,” Dad smiled.
“I am,” I squeezed his hand. “I came in to take over for Mum early. You slept like a log.”
“I am better for it, I suppose.”
Dad remained in hospital overnight following his lymphadenectomy.
He did well in surgery minus a blip in his blood pressure post op.
He was recovering. I came in early and sent Mum home since I couldn’t sleep.
I had an audition. Inside my big gym bag to the right of my chair were two pairs of shoes.
Under the leggings and jumper I currently sported was a pair of dance shorts over a leotard.
“I’ll stay until auntie arrives, but I have to run somewhere. I’ll come right back.”
“Sure,” he said. “Where are you going?”
“Can you promise not to tell anyone?”
“Yes! Is it an audition?”
I nodded. “A big callback for the thing I was supposed to do.”
“Well, go on! Do me proud!” Dad laughed.
“I will try. I’ve been preparing for this for a lifetime, Dad.”
He smiled then turned to the curtain. My aunt appeared with a big box of posh biscuits and a thermos of tea. She was a bit of a purist and probably thought that her brother’s nursing staff was incapable of making the good stuff.
“I will be back in a few hours… hopefully with good news.” I kissed dad’s cheek.
“You will. I know it.”
I grinned ear to ear as I departed to audition for my most coveted gig.
It was a dream—serious choreography, a part I knew I was ready for, and the chance to return to London.
I waxed nostalgic about spending Saturdays in Notting Hill with Leah and shopping at trendy shops.
I thought about our favorite spots. Dreams of reclaiming what could have been our twenties filled my head.
We could make London our home if only I aced this.
The trouble was, I’d not been honest with Leah.
The worry in my mind lingered. If I got the part, I would sign onto a year of work—for much of which she could be pregnant or recovering from birth.
There was so much to be said, but I missed all the shots I didn’t take and there was no guarantee I would get the role, or that she would fall pregnant. I couldn’t risk not going.
Caleb North called me to Richmond for a meeting at his house.
I hated forced gatherings like this—for the fun of the investors.
I always knew my job. I needed to be charming, straight, and not-too-desperate while always remaining aware that they held my future—and ability to pay my bills—in their meaty hands.
They never asked male actors to do this on their own—just the women.
And Leah? She would have willingly gone for a chance to socialize, but they never would have demanded such a thing of her.
She had prestige film money and a production company behind her.
I tried to put aside how sick of the industry I was and reminded myself to play the game. I had much to be grateful for, right? I had a girlfriend who loved me and a once-in-a-lifetime role ahead of me.
“It’s a beautiful area,” the cabbie mentioned.
I spotted two families walking along the Thames with their babies. One had not one but three dogs. How did people manage that? Beyond the too-many-canines problem, the whole scene looked idyllic.
“It is. It’s so clean and the air is so easy to breathe, you almost forget we’re just outside London,” I joked.
“Every time I come out here, I wonder how I could find a way to stay.”
“Have you found it out yet?” I laughed. “Care to share with the class?”
“Not open my mouth!” The cabbie chuckled. “Even if they didn’t know my parents were born in Accra, they would the minute I spoke. I should have taken care to learn to sound posher growing up.”
“Your accent is becoming the predominant accent in London,” I said. “And I think it’s lovely.”
“You’re kind, miss.”
I smiled. “It’s true though. There is a specific accent—Multicultural London English—and it is how people will think Londoners talk in a couple decades.”
“So, by the time my kids are grown? How do you know so much about accents, miss?”
“I’m an actress,” I said. “And I’ve spent the last 24 hours channeling a good New York accent. But have no fear, as we speak now, this isn’t all me. I’ve just had a lot of accent training.”
“You sounded posh the minute you got in.”
“I am playing a princess in a show right now—Princess Alexandra. So, I sound posh all the time. Apologies. But even then, there is no way I could make it perfect RP. I only know a couple actors who can.”
One being Leah.
“Are you in that one with the Queen’s niece? She’s the only one in theater I can think of.”
You read my mind. I blushed. “Leah Roughy?”
“Yeah! Prince George’s little girl. My wife loves her. She says she has the prettiest voice.”
“She does,” I admitted. “I’m her costar.”
“Hopefully you get on with her? Or else I’m bringing up bad memories.”
“I love her. It’s fine,” I said. “Actually, she’s my girlfriend.”
Saying it still brought me joy.
“Oh, well, good for you, love!” He chuckled. “She’s a catch.”
“She is a disaster to live with,” I giggled.
“People have picked up after her for her entire life. She has no concept of organization of clothes or dishes. And yet? She’s the most giving person.
It’s not just her, either. Her family would show up for me any day of the week.
The world needs more people like Leah. She may be messy, but…
she’s also the perfect type of messy the world needs. ”
He smiled. “You miss her?”
“I do,” I said. “Can you tell? This is a short trip, but she’s performing with my understudy later and I’m still wishing I could be there. But trust me, if you met her, you’d love her.”
His smiling eyes met mine in the mirror. “That’s lovely to hear. I only ever hear how awful people these days are. I wish you well, miss.”
I left a good tip, then departed. The cab waited as I was invited through the gate into Caleb North’s palatial compound. To my surprise, he met me—barefoot and in jeans and a jumper—in his massive drive-cum-carpark. I felt overdressed even in my perfectly-matched dance gear.
“Miss Lennon, welcome,” he said. “How was your flight?”
“Great,” I lied. The reality? It was turbulent and I worried about Leah the entire time.
“Excellent. Come on in. And relax. The guys just want to meet you and make sure you’re perfect for the part.”
I prayed that the tube of expensive spackle I’d stolen from Leah’s makeup bag to preserve my flawless look even with the jetlag and worries about my dad had at least obscured my crow’s feet and beleaguered pores.
“That works,” I lied.
“Randy is here,” Caleb said.
Randy Addison. The heartthrob of Broadway no one could ever shut up about? I’d never worked with him. He was a baby.
“I thought you all could have a meet and greet and then perform something.”
Yeah, just as you do with a person you don’t know and with no preparation?
“Sure,” I agreed.
It was all going so well.
Randy waited in a small office off the kitchen.
He met Leah’s description accurately—fit as hell with a jaw that could make anyone swoon.
He had that you either wanted to be with him or be him star quality.
I understood why Leah said she wanted to climb him like a tree previously.
Still, next to him, I worried I was too old.
I had to hand it to the investors, they weren’t wrong.
“Lourdes,” Randy gave me a quick hug and cheek peck. “When I heard your name was in the mix, I got excited.”
“Oh? Why?” I laughed, confused.
“Leah always goes on and on about you,” Randy admitted. “She says you are the best dancer of any big player in theater.”
I melted. She would talk me up, wouldn’t she?
“Well, that is kind of Leah. So, what are we doing? I was given nothing here. He said something about a song.”
“Do you know the book well at all?”
“Darling, I have been preparing for this role since you were in reception,” I joked. “I was thinking we could do ‘I’m the Bravest Individual’. I could play…”
I thought a minute. I’d look like his mother if I played while he talked through the number. “No, you can play. Does that work?”
“I can. I would bet money you’re a better accompanist, but I think you’re the one they are here to see, Miss Lennon.”
“Stop that!” I giggled. “No. Lourdes. Lou. But you make me feel ancient if you call me Miss Lennon.”
“Gotcha,” he gave a small salute. “Well, let’s do it?”
“Let’s get it over with.”
In the palatial formal living room beside a grand piano, I took my place and went to that other plane—the one with only lights and music.
The audience faded away. The fact that Randy wasn’t in the cards this morning didn’t matter.
My job was to be the most jolly, captivating sex worker I could be.
I was falling for Randy’s character. I was charming and my voice was perfect.
When we finished, the men clapped.
Randy turned back to them and said, “That was amazing.”
“It’s a shame that Lana is having a baby soon,” one said. “But I think this could be our Charity.”
“Lourdes is an absolute professional,” Caleb said. “She gave me a shot when I was a nobody in casting and she’s the best.”
The others nodded. I smiled through it, feeling very much like a commodity fighting for its life.
“So, you’ll be available through the end of May?” Caleb asked.
“I thought it was November.” I asked, trying to appear not-at-all concerned about the math.
“Your agent said you’d be open to a year. Is that not the case?”
“Nope, it’s alright,” I lied.
It was not. Leah was going to kill me. If she was pregnant, I was completely toast.
“Great. Then… I think we’ll shoot the final contract over soon.”
I was dismissed but unsure what to do. Given that I now knew Lana lost the role over pregnancy, I couldn’t say much. I’d lose the role if I spoke up and declared, “Not only am I queer, but I’m also really bothered by the end date since my Tony-winning girlfriend may be pregnant.”
In a room of actors, it would be relatable.
In a room of producers, it was a death sentence.
I was already playing middle-aged women.
The number of roles remaining for me dwindled by the day.
Leah and I both understood that. But marking myself as a queer woman about to have a child made it ten times worse.
Even in this industry full of gay men, the misogyny won out.