Excitement, cigar smoke and noisy celebration rebounded off the walls and high ceilings along the narrow corridor, as people jostled, moving around one another like fish in a fast moving stream. Some in full evening dress, carrying extravagant bouquets in paper wraps, hands pressing in backs, shuffling along, tripping on each others heels, the brush of a dinner jacket or fur, passing wafts from cologne or perfume, and all the time the press of bodies happy to be alive in this moment. The buzz of laughter and loud comments, squeezing in and out of dressing room doors, allowing performers to push through in the opposite direction, grease paint still smeared on their sweating faces, collars removed from their studs, carrying instruments in thick cases, away, away from the noisy crush, to celebrate the success of the performance in their favouite bar.
From the stage door heat exploded in a shimmering haze onto the exuberant crowd, which gathered in the cool darkness of the evening, waiting to herald the performers who had brought them such drama, such joy.
Eleonora Fernandez was admitted to the corridor without question by the two theatre doormen.She paraded within, Samuel tucked in her arm, his tail waving frantically, adding his voice in surprisingly deep barks to the cacophony of the moment. She wasn't above sticking out an elbow, and determinedly made her way along the corridor towards the star's dressing room.
A gaggle of onlookers hung around the doorway, unwilling to go too close, yet desperate to catch a glimpse of the woman who had touched the souls of the audience with the honesty of her voice, the elegance of her presence. Eleonora pushed unhesitating through them, and dropped Samuel to the threadbare carpet with a loud exclamation, which made everyone packed into the tiny room turn.
"Darling, divine, divine, such perfection, you had them captivated from the moment you stepped forward." The sea of faces parted and allowed the seated figure, the object of Eleonora's effusive praise, to leap up. The pair reached their arms towards one another and cheek kissed extravagantly. As they greeted, the other people pressed inside the small dressing room, continued their conversations, half an eye on the pair, waiting for their chance to be part of the stars attentions again.
"Eleonora, Eleonora oh my dear friend."
"Have you missed me darling? I have missed you, but you've been so busy while I've been away, I can't imagine you've had time to think of poor me, trapped in America, for one second."
"Oh Eleonora, It's been so dull without you, I can't begin to explain, were you in the audience tonight?
"I was, darling. You where brilliant, shinning darling, You must be delighted."
"Oh I am. The orchestra was first rate tonight, thank God. They were so drunk at the rehearsal. Antonio had to confine them to their lodgings, under threat of the sack. It's the wind section, not a one of them is married, or sober."
Samuel, ignored too long for his liking, took a nip out of the nearest ankle and barked. Karmina, the star, stooped to pick him up.
"Oh Sammy, I've missed our cuddles." She thrust her face deep into his silken locks and sniffed the warm dogginess of his body. The injured ankle owner rubbed his leg and gave Eleonora a dirty look, which she returned in equal measure before turning her back to him. Karmina returned to the comfort of her chair, her fur coat providing cushioning from the stiff wooden stays. Samuel gazed around the room happy to be in her arms, both of them content with the adulation they were receiving. "When did you get back?" Karmina asked, while Eleonora poured herself a glass of Champagne from the line of bottles on the dressing table.
"Last weekend. I'm staying with Daniela." Karmina interrupted immediately.
"Nonsense, you must come to me. I'm in Buenos Aires on this run for three months, I'll speak with Marcelo and have your bags brought over."
Eleonora lent in to kiss her again.
"What's this?" As they parted Karmina found an elegantly wrapped box which Eleonora had dropped onto her lap as they hugged.
to be continued.........
(To start at the begining of this series of stories, see Madigan)
"
My darling you should have rung." Eleonora Fernandez embraced Barbara Bliss, wrapping them momentarily together, in the shawl she had draped over her shoulders.
"I was passing on my way to lunch club and thought I'd drop by and see if you wanted to join us."
"Come on in, Samuel, Samuel, come here. Sorry, he's excited." She shooed out the tan, long haired dachshund from around Barbara's ankles. "You haven't seen the place since I had it redecorated, have you?"
She swept Barbara along the hallway, into the first reception room where every piece of dark wood furniture was stacked with Eleonora's eclectic belongings. A gramophone, a wireless, an ornate mirror with her late husbands pipe rack before it, and everywhere photographs, of her friends and relations, in varying sizes of silver frames. It felt like walking onto the stage with every eye in the house upon you, Eleonora Fernandez loved to give a performance.
Samuel jumped onto the chaise and sat attentively, his bottom waggling, though his tail was trapped beneath him. Eleonora held his face and kissed between his ears and was rewarded with a lick around her mouth. Barbara shuddered a little, her prissy sensibilities stirred by the animal sitting on furniture, let along that long, sloppy tongue.
"He's such a beautiful boy." Eleonora reached onto the mantelshelf, and from a pot carved like a jaguar, gave the excited dog a tit bit. He scrunched it down, before turning twice clockwise, once anticlockwise and falling, with a huge audible sigh, into a dozing curl. Eleonora flopped beside the pup, and indicated for Barbara to take a seat too. "So what's the lunch club meeting about?"
"It's a fundraiserr for the church, with your connections I thought you might be able to help with some entertainment."
"My connections?"
"In the theatre,everyone knows about the parties you hold here."
"Yes I do. In fact, I had a lovely party last week to celebrate the opening of Frielers new show. Have you seen it yet? But you must, it's is simply divine, delightfully suggestive." Eleonora laughed and the dog's ears flapped.
The central heating was turned way up, and Barbara began to feel overheated. She peeled off her long soft leather gloves, and poked them through the loops of her clutch purse.
"I heard the party was a great success."
"Oh, it was, it was. It was like being back home."
"In Argentina."
"Just so. Here everything closes at midnight, in Argentina that's when we come out to eat and dance. It goes on until the new dawn." Barbara smiled indulgently.
"How very," She searched for a word, "Latin."
"Spanish darling. Have you been to Argentina?"
"No. Of course before all this dreadful talk of war, Nathaniel and I cruised around Europe, but South America, well, no." She allowed her eye to fall on a painting, and rose to examine it. "Is this from Argentina?" Eleonora stroked the dog's silky ears.
"Yes, a native artist, naive and brilliant. It reminds me of the sun. Living here one forgets about the sun so quickly."
Barbara allowed her eye to scan the cigar cases, and icons, and then she saw it, her heart bumped twice to alert her to it, the proof. She spoke as evenly as she could manage.
"What's this?"
She held a red narrow box.
"That? Oh nothing. I think Nanny left it for me."
"Really, may I?" Barbara opened it and the fully wound key allowed a tune to spill out, a tune Barbara had heard before, when Jackson Taylor had shown this box to her husband. Eleonora rose.
"A pretty melody. Now what time is this lunch club, we shan't want to be late."
Barbara allowed the tune to slow to a halt and then rewound the key, as the piece played again she spoke softly.
"My husband likes to go out, and be entertained. He likes to visit the theatre, and sometimes he tells me that he doesn't think the play will be of interest, or that he's planning to go on to his club and see some business associate afterward." She rewound the key again and Eleonora sank back beside the dog. "Sometimes my friends ring me and say, oh I saw Nathaniel last night at the Carlton, and you'll never guess who I saw in the shadows at the back of the box with him."
Eleonora pressed an open hand on her collarbone, the other hand resumed stroking the dog's ear.
"Did he give you this, as a love token? Did he whisper, she means nothing to me, but you, you are everything. And then he passed this over, and you played it together and kissed while this music played?" Is that what happened? Let me tell you, darling, my husband is a philanderer and a cheat, but he is my husband. Mine. Do you hear me?" She rewound the box one last time, and placed it back to the mantelshelf, then marched across the room, retrieved the clutch, and stood staring angrily at Eleonora, while she pulled the long gloves up to her elbow. Then she swept out and banged the door.
Eleonora continued stroking the dog's ears, until the music had drawn itself to a finish. She reached onto the table for her long ebony cigarette holder, and lighting up, blew a mouthful of smoke towards the ceiling.
"Ah well Samuel, no lunch club for us today".
.
(For Part One see 'Madigan')
Excitement, cigar smoke and noisy celebration rebounded off the walls and high ceilings along the narrow corridor, as people jostled, moving around one another like fish in a fast moving stream. Some in full evening dress, carrying extravagant bouquets in paper wraps, hands pressing in backs, shuffling along, tripping on each others heels, the brush of a dinner jacket or fur, passing wafts from cologne or perfume, and all the time the press of bodies happy to be alive in this moment. The buzz of laughter and loud comments, squeezing in and out of dressing room doors, allowing performers to push through in the opposite direction, grease paint still smeared on their sweating faces, collars removed from their studs, carrying instruments in thick cases, away, away from the noisy crush, to celebrate the success of the performance in their favouite bar.