Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool by Peter Turner

Author:Peter Turner [Turner, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781509818228
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

FOUR

Old Jack was in his cubby hole listening to the radio; his assistant stage manager was doing all the hard work, setting up the props for the play. All the actors, except Geoffrey, were hanging about in the Green Room. Gil, dressed in her first-act costume, her hair pinned back from her face which hadn’t yet been covered by the mask of stage make-up, was talking on the telephone. She gave me a friendly wave. I smiled and she blew me a kiss. Eric, sitting in the corner, was chewing on a double giant hamburger from the stall across the street. While Linda, happily wearing nothing much at all, except a towel and her sloppy silver shoes, was pinning up a notice in the centre of the board. ‘Rave Up’ it announced, ‘chez moi, Huskisson Street. Bring yourself something to drink’.

At least everything was normal in the world of make-believe. Tonight it was a relief to be at the theatre. As soon as I was involved in my performance I felt immune to what was happening at home. I was tired, I was drained, but strangely I didn’t feel lacking in energy while I was on stage; it was only after the play was over that I felt exhausted and low.

‘Are you going to Linda’s party?’ Gil, back in her everyday clothes, popped her head around the dressing room door.

‘No, I’m not,’ I told her.

‘Oh, don’t be so miserable. You can’t just go back home.’

No, I can’t, I thought. I couldn’t face going back to the house. I needed a break. I decided to go and see my cousin Eileen at the Belgrave Club.

Eileen was the only person with whom I felt I could relax. Ever since I’d spoken to her earlier in the day I’d been thinking about what she had said. She was right, I needed to calm down. For a while, I had to get away from the sadness in the house.

I took a taxi from Clayton Square. It smelt of cigarettes and chips, which made me feel an emptiness inside. We drove up London Road, away from the down-town area, where anything that might happen, could happen. Ten minutes later we drew up outside the Belgrave. To me it seemed an odd place for a gambling club, standing isolated, alone, in the middle of a wasteland. It looked a bit of a dump.

As I wasn’t a member, and I didn’t look as if I was dressed for a night out in a casino, the two big bouncers sentried at the door refused to let me in.

‘If you’ve been invited, why hasn’t yer name been put on the list?’ the ugliest one of them asked.

‘Because it’s my cousin,’ I pleaded. ‘She’s a pip boss, you know, a croupier. She just asked me to come along.’

Eventually, after a check upstairs with Eileen and a warning that I wasn’t to sit at the tables, I was led upstairs.

Inside it was quite smart and much bigger than I’d imagined it to be.

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