The Boy I Love (4 page)

Sally always felt she was a bit of a disappointment to her parents. Her mother was very glamorous in her way, but a bit too girly for her liking, and certainly Sally had inherited none of that
coquettishness. She was a good cross of her mother and father, and had strong attractive features, but she could not be described as beautiful. Her tutors at drama school had told her she would
never play the young heroines as she was just not pretty enough. She had initially been upset, but commonsense had soon taken over, and Sally knew that especially onstage, a good actress could
convince an audience that she was beautiful. It almost made her feel more confident, knowing she did not have to rely on her looks and would never have to worry about getting old. She would always
be able to play the interesting characters until she fell off the twig. Dora was probably better-looking than her, but that was fine. There was no jealousy between the girls, and they had always
been very close. Dora managed their father brilliantly, and could put him in a good mood with a click of her fingers. While she was still living at home Dora was a good foil for him, and their
mother did not have to worry about his dark moods.

Sally had been looking forward to spending time with them all over the month of August. Now here she was, feeling sorry for herself. She got up and gave her mother a hug, saying, ‘I am so
stupid, really. I’m just so happy to be home. Come on, let’s get these boxes sorted out and then we can go and have a large glass of wine with Dad.’

The two women attacked the bags, sorting the rubbish from the washing and from the ‘keep forever’ memorabilia that gathers through three years of college. It was a gorgeous
summer’s day and all the windows were open. The sweet perfume of honeysuckle and mown grass wafted through the house, along with the call of a blackbird above the constant hum of buzzing
bees. Sally was always caught unawares by the clarity of these sounds compared to London, where everything was lost in the general drumming of city noise, sliced through with the occasional siren.
Here in her parents’ loving home, surrounded by trees and blue sky, she revelled in a sense of complete well-being. It gave her strength.

‘Come on, darling, stop daydreaming and get a move on,’ her mother urged. ‘It’s nearly lunchtime and your dad will be expecting a visit.’ She gathered all the bags
ready to go and went to fetch the car keys, adding, ‘We can celebrate having our daughters home for the summer.’

There was a letter from Crewe Theatre waiting for Sally the next morning. It contained a digs list and a reminder that under the Esher Standard Contract issued by Equity, the
actors’ union, the artiste (Sally in this case) was obliged to provide an evening dress for the season, and to use her own clothes as and when required. The management was only obliged to
provide period costumes.

‘Oh my God!’ she gasped over her boiled egg and soldiers. ‘I have to wear my own clothes!’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Dora. ‘What does the letter say?’ She grabbed it from her sister and read the instructions issued therein. Then: ‘My God, Sally, there
isn’t a play written that could possibly include your wardrobe,’ she said, and burst out laughing.

‘Shut up, Dora! What do you mean by that? There is nothing wrong with the way I dress, is there?’

Dora laughed even louder and Patricia came into the kitchen to find out what all the fuss was about.

‘Mum, tell Sally what is wrong with her dress sense, please. Can one even begin to describe the lack of sartorial savvy?’

‘Dora, please stop cackling, it is very unbecoming. What is the problem here?’

‘I have had a letter from the theatre,’ explained Sally, ‘telling me I have to provide my own clothes, except where period costume is required –
and
I have to take
an evening dress. I don’t own a dress, never mind an evening one!’ she wailed.

‘Oh dear,’ sympathized her mother. ‘I do see your problem. Dora, will you stop giggling! Sally dresses very individually, I will grant you, but she is not completely without
taste.’ This response drew further sniggers from Dora.

‘Oh, do shut up, Dora!’ snapped Sally. ‘The joke wears thin, methinks. So what am I going to do?’

‘Well, we will have to sort you out. There is a fantastic vintage clothes shop in Cheltenham, and lots of jumble sales we can rummage through. If the worst comes to the worst, Dora can
make you an evening dress, can’t you, dear?’ Patricia turned to her youngest daughter. ‘Let’s make a list of useful clothes you might need in a season. Do you have any idea
what plays they are going to do? That would help enormously.’

Dora jumped up from the table, saying, ‘Listen, sis, we can have a great time putting your wardrobe together. We will turn you into a style icon, don’t you worry.’

‘I don’t want to be a style icon, thank you very much,’ responded Sally rather grumpily. ‘I am an actress.’

‘We know, but there is no reason why you can’t be a smartly dressed actress. Come on, let’s get down the town and do a bit of shopping.’

Dora was practically out of the front door. Patricia stopped her with, ‘Hold on, darling, just a moment.’ She went out of the kitchen and across the hall to the study, and came back
two minutes later with her purse. ‘I want to give you both a little something to spend.’ She handed them both some cash.

The girls protested but she went on, ‘I don’t often get the chance to spoil you, and now seems as good a time as ever. I actually sold a painting last month and I have another
commission, so please let me share my good fortune with my beautiful daughters. And listen, if you can’t find an evening dress, Sally, get a pattern and Dora and I will make it for you. Dora
knows where to buy gorgeous material, don’t you, darling?’

‘Oh yes, absolutely. Thank you so much, Mum, this is fantastic of you. Oh my God, I am so excited. Shopping – and with some money for a change.’ And she was off once more
towards the front door.

Sally picked up her bag and started to follow, then stopped and gave her mother a big hug. ‘Thank you so much for this. I will make you proud.’

‘Go on, you have made me proud already.’ Patricia kissed her and shooed her off, ‘Now get going or your sister will grab all the best buys first.’

The girls made straight for the vintage clothes shop. Dora knew the owner, Jackie, who was the mother of a girl she had been at school with. Jackie was very interested to hear all about
Sally’s job and the theatre.

‘Please take my number in case you need anything later in the season,’ she said to Sally. ‘Maybe the wardrobe department at Crewe will be interested in some of my stock. Do you
know what plays you are doing yet?’

‘No, not yet, but I can certainly let you know,’ said Sally.

Dora was already going through the rail of dresses. ‘Ooh, look. This is beautiful, Sal, and would really suit you. Come on, try it on.’

The girls spent the best part of half an hour trying on dresses until poor Sally was bug-eyed.

‘I can’t remember what I have tried on!’ she cried. ‘It is exhausting.’

Dora had narrowed the choice down to two dresses. One was a 1950s satin dress, very fitted at the waist with a low neckline and off the shoulder. The other was a simple satin dress cut on the
bias, so very flattering for the figure, and rather sexy. It was black.

‘This one needs some sparkly jewellery to set it off,’ announced Dora, holding the black satin up.

‘I have no idea which one to choose,’ sighed Sally, who had really had enough and was thinking about a glass of wine and some shepherd’s pie in the pub.

Jackie suggested they took both.

Well,’ agreed Dora, ‘that is the obvious answer, but I don’t think the budget will stretch that far.’

Jackie checked the tickets on both dresses and said, ‘Look, why don’t you buy the satin one and I will give you a twenty-five per cent discount? And I will let you have the other
dress on loan, so take it up to Crewe with you, and if you decide you can use it, we will re-negotiate.’

‘Oh, that would be fantastic,’ said Sally. ‘If you are really sure?’ And when Jackie nodded her assent: ‘Thank you
so
much. Actually, it could be very useful
for Crewe because we might well need some period stuff and we could liaise with you. That is brilliant, Jackie.’

The girls were on a high as they left the shop and danced down the street.

‘How amazing is that?’ said Dora. ‘Come on, we will celebrate with a quick glass of wine in the wine bar, then onto more mundane attire like trousers and tops. I want to take
you to this terrific boutique that has opened recently. They have really unusual stuff and it is cheap.’ With that she was off across the street, skipping towards the wine bar, followed by an
equally excited Sally clutching her bag of goodies in her hands.

By the end of the day, the sisters returned home worn out. They flopped down on the sofa surrounded by bags. Patricia made them a cup of tea and then sat down and waited for
the fashion parade to begin.

Dora took charge and explained about the two evening dresses. Much against her will, Sally made one last effort and modelled them for her mother.

‘Oh yes, girls, you have done well. They are both beautiful and so different. I remember having a dress like this for one of the Chelsea Arts balls,’ Patricia said softly,
remembering the joy of dancing all night and feeling so beautiful in her dress. ‘The fifties one is gorgeous, Sally, and has a very flattering neckline because it shows off one’s
shoulders as well as a bit of bosom.’

Sally laughed at her mother’s rather coy choice of word for the old cleavage.

‘Bosom? Oh, Mother, that is so ladylike!’ she chortled.

‘Well, I suppose it is, but it was what we called it in my day. Now the black dress is very sexy, isn’t it? Let’s hope the theatre does some Noël Coward and then you will
have the perfect outfit. It needs some jewellery though, doesn’t it?’

Dora chipped in, ‘Exactly what I said, so we should go jumble-sale hunting on Saturday and pick up a bit of sparkle.’

‘Good idea,’ agreed Patricia. ‘Now show me what else you have bought, please.’

Sally was secretly thrilled that her sister had sorted out her wardrobe for her. She knew she had no real flair and was not at all interested in fashion. She lived in a couple of pairs of
trousers, a few shirts and jumpers, and a standard navy jacket for every occasion. Dora had found her some great-fitting jeans, and some lovely suede boots to go with them. ‘But also handy
when it gets cold with some thick tights and a short skirt,’ Dora had suggested.

There was a very useful three-quarter-length wool jacket which looked great over T-shirts, and also a couple of long tops which just covered the bum, and were simple yet attractive. Dora was
able to mix and match and put several outfits together for Sally with ease.

‘I don’t know how you are able to see these things so easily,’ remarked Sally. ‘Thank you, Dora, you really have been an enormous help.’

Dora turned to face her, and said in a deliberately casual tone: ‘Sally, I was thinking that maybe I could see if there was a job going in the wardrobe at Crewe. I would really love to
come and learn all about costumes and design. I have already applied for uni next autumn to do Business Studies, and rather than take a gap year it would be great to actually earn some money and
learn other stuff, you know? Who can tell: I may even decide to be a designer instead of an entrepreneur. Shall I telephone and see what the state of play is, do you think?’ Dora sighed
happily. ‘It would just be so great if we could work together, and get a flat or something, wouldn’t it?’

Sally felt a flicker of guilt. It
would
be lovely to have Dora with her – but then again, there was a part of her that wanted to have this adventure by herself. It was her first
real job and there would be so much to learn. She wanted it to be her experience, her own personal journey. Dora was so different from her. She was extrovert and outgoing and up for anything. Sally
sometimes felt outshone by her sister’s joie de vivre. But that was so selfish of her. How mealy-mouthed can I be? she rebuked herself.

‘Yes,’ she replied aloud. ‘Why not ring them and see what they say.’

As it happened, things worked out rather well. Giles Longfellow’s PA, Susan Chambers, explained to Dora that there was a resident wardrobe mistress called Mrs Enid Weaver who lived locally
in Crewe. However, Giles had decided that he needed someone younger for this season, so he had hired a lady called Gwendoline Stewart who would do most of the work while Enid would come in twice a
week to supervise. It would have been very difficult for Giles to sack Enid as she was a stalwart of the theatre, so he was treading very softly. It had been suggested that for the beginning of the
season, things should be left to Enid and Gwendoline to organize, and then perhaps a few weeks later there might be a vacancy for an assistant. Would it be possible for Dora to hang on and join
later?

Dora was thrilled, and as far as Sally was concerned, it was perfect because it gave her a chance to establish herself in the company and find her feet. She would be able to sort out her living
arrangements with an eye to being able to offer Dora a home there eventually. But it would be
her
place. She needed to feel secure in herself, and her work, before her sister came and joined
her. This way it was her territory.