Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams: and other prose writings by Sylvia Plath

Author:Sylvia Plath
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3
ISBN: 9780571309146
Publisher: Faber & Faber
Published: 2013-07-24T14:00:00+00:00

Day of Success

Ellen was on her way to the bedroom with an armload of freshly folded nappies when the phone rang, splintering the stillness of the crisp autumn morning. For a moment she froze on the threshold, taking in the peaceful scene as if she might never see it again—the delicate rose-patterned wallpaper, the forest-green cord drapes she’d hemmed by hand while waiting for the baby to come, the old-fashioned four-poster inherited from a loving but moneyless aunt, and, in the corner, the pale pink crib holding sound asleep six-month old Jill, the centre of it all.

Please don’t let it change, she begged of whatever fates might be listening. Let the three of us stay happy as this forever.

Then the shrill, demanding bell roused her, and she stowed the pile of clean nappies on the big bed and went to pick up the receiver reluctantly, as if it were some small, black instrument of doom.

‘Is Jacob Ross there?’ inquired a cool, clear feminine voice. ‘Denise Kay speaking.’ Ellen’s heart sank as she pictured the elegantly-groomed red-headed woman at the other end of the wire. She and Jacob had been to lunch with the brilliant young television producer only a month before to discuss the progress of the play Jacob was working on—his first. Even at that early date, Ellen had secretly hoped Denise would be struck by lightning or spirited to Australia rather than have her thrown together with Jacob in the crowded, intimate days of rehearsal—author and producer collaborating on the birth of something wonderful, uniquely theirs.

‘No, Jacob’s not home at the moment.’ It occurred to Ellen, a bit guiltily, how easy it would be to call Jacob down from Mrs Frankfort’s flat for such an obviously important message. His finished script had been in Denise Kay’s office for almost two weeks now, and she knew by the way he ran down the three flights of stairs each morning to meet the postman how eager he was to hear the verdict. Still, hadn’t she promised to behave like a model secretary and leave his hours of writing time uninterrupted? ‘This is his wife, Miss Kay,’ she added, with perhaps unnecessary emphasis. ‘May I take a message, or have Jacob call you later?’

‘Good news,’ Denise said briskly. ‘My boss is enthusiastic about the play. A bit odd, he thinks, but beautifully original, so we’re buying it. I’m really thrilled to be the producer.’

This is it, Ellen thought miserably, unable to see anything for the vision of that smooth-sheened coppery head bent with Jacob’s dark one over a thick mimeographed script. The beginning of the end.

‘That’s wonderful, Miss Kay. I … I know Jacob will be delighted.’

‘Fine. I’d like to see him for lunch today, if I may, to talk about casting. We’ll be wanting some name actors, I think. Could you possibly ask him to pick me up in my office about noon?’

‘Of course …’

‘Righto. Goodbye, then.’ And the receiver descended with a businesslike click.

Bewildered by an alien and powerful

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