What Bloody Man Is That Read Free Page A

shapeless suit of thick checked tweed over a bottle-green waistcoat across which a watch-chain hung pretentiously. His mane of white hair and beard seemed to have been modelled on the elderly Buffalo Bill. A monocle was screwed firmly into the veined purple face.
    â€˜Charles Paris,’ said Gavin Scholes as he moved towards the door, ‘I don’t believe you’ve met Warnock Belvedere . . .?’

Chapter Two
    THE OLD ACTOR’S presence was so commanding that it was only as Gavin and Charles drew near that they noticed he had not entered the bar alone. Slightly behind Warnock, eclipsed by his bulk, stood a thin boy, scarcely out of his teens, on whose face an eager-to-please smile hovered nervously.
    â€˜Oh, hello, Russ. Charles, I don’t think you’ve met Russ Lavery either . . .?’
    â€˜No, I –’
    â€˜Never mind that,’ boomed Warnock Belvedere. ‘Time enough for pleasantries when you’ve got me that bloody drink. God, a man could die of dehydration in this place.’
    â€˜Yes, yes, of course,’ said Gavin, scuttling back to the bar, and suggesting to Charles that the director’s ‘firm line’ in dealing with the supposedly difficult actor would be based on abject subservience.
    â€˜What’s it to be?’ Gavin asked from the bar.
    â€˜Brandy. Large one,’ Warnock Belvedere replied as he limped heavily across the room.
    Charles reached out his hand to the young man who had been introduced as Russ Lavery. ‘Charles Paris. Are you in the company?’
    â€˜Yes, it’s my first job out of Webber Douglas.’
    â€˜Welcome to the business.’
    â€˜Thanks. Yes, I just finished my training this summer. I was very lucky. An agent liked what I did in one of the final term productions and signed me up.’
    â€˜Well done.’
    â€˜It was Robbie Patrick, actually.’ The boy was demonstrably keen to get the name into the conversation. And with reason. Robbie Patrick was one of the most successful and fashionable agents on the scene. To be signed up by him was about the best start any aspiring actor could have.
    â€˜Anyway, Robbie put me up to audition for Gavin and it went okay, and I’ve got one of the Pinero’s provisional cards.’
    â€˜Again, well done.’ It was quite an achievement. The actors’ union, Equity, paranoid about too many people entering a hopelessly overcrowded profession, restricted most theatres to admitting two new members a year. To have got one of the coveted union cards so quickly was what every drama student in the country prayed for.
    â€˜What are you playing?’ asked Charles, with a grin.
    The grin had the right effect, and the boy seemed more relaxed as he replied, ‘Fleance and Young Siward.’
    â€˜Great.’
    â€˜Yes, I’m very excited about it. You know, the chance to play two contrasting roles. Using different voices.’
    There was something puppyish about the boy’s enthusiasm. Charles for a moment felt almost patronising, until he reflected that he himself had reacted in exactly the same way to the prospect of playing two minor roles.
    â€˜I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun,’ he said.
    â€˜Yes, I mean just the chance to work in a company with –’
    â€˜Come over here, boy!’ Warnock Belvedere bellowed from the bar. ‘Come and sit by me. Pretty boy’s just bought me dinner. Least I can do is to get him a drink.’
    Russ Lavery flushed and moved across to the bar. Charles followed more slowly. He didn’t like the sound of what Wamock had just said. The old actor was a notorious sponger, but to sponge off someone like Russ seemed pretty shabby. Nearly all actors are poor, but the ones who’ve just finished drama school tend to be even poorer than the rest.
    Nor did Charles like the ‘pretty boy’ reference. Wamock Belvedere’s reputation encompassed fairly aggressive