Curtain
By Julia Linthicum
DISCLAIMER: Characters are copyright Rupert Holmes, The Entertainment
Group, Howard Meltzer prods, and American Movie Classics. No
infringement is intended.
@--------------@
"Why did Betty choose this scene for Library Theater?" Hilary Booth
asked, rereading the script. She was seated at the table in the Green
Room before her next radio broadcast, studying her scenes as she was
accustomed to doing. She had always been taught to be as prepared as
possible for her roles. She already knew this scene from "Much Ado about
Nothing" from her stage training. "Betty knows she shouldn't give these
scenes to just anyone."
Scott Sherwood shrugged, sipping his coffee. "Betty said she wrote the
episode before Jeff left for London." He added, closing the newspaper.
"What's the big deal? So I'm cast in his place. I can read words just as
well as Jeff can."
Hilary replied. "These aren't just any words, Mr. Sherwood, this is
William Shakespeare, one of the greatest playwrights in history." She
added. "You can't just read it like you would one of Betty's potboilers
or soap operas. Shakespeare requires a certain voice and a certain
respect. You have to have training. I spent years perfecting my diction
and delivery…"
"Only so you could perform Betty's soap operas and potboilers," Scott
retorted wryly.
Hilary glared at Scott. "Are you finished with the newspaper?"
"Sure, but I don't know why you're bothering, Hilary," Scott said,
handing over the Pittsburgh newspaper. "There wasn't a word about you in
the columns." Scott added, knowing Hilary's continued interest in her
rivals' careers. "Or even Grace Cavendish or Ruth Getty."
"No particular reason, Scott," Hilary shrugged, ignoring the comment.
"Maybe I just felt like being informed by someone other than a radio
broadcaster today." All the same she immediately turned to the
entertainment columns. Some habits died harder than others. Hilary read
a gossip piece about a Broadway actress linked with her young handsome
co-star, scandalizing the social set. This particular columnist usually
delighted in putting in swipes against Hilary and Jeffrey's
relationship, but this time Hilary was ignored.
Hilary continually told herself that vanity wasn't the only reason she
felt so slighted by the lack of attention from the local media. She had
spent many long years establishing her career. To be forgotten made
those years before Pittsburgh seem pointless.
She skimmed through the rest of the newspaper, including any mention of
England. The Pittsburgh paper had also taken scant notice when Jeffrey
returned to Britain for the second time. They wrote articles about
bravery and heroism every day, only to miss a real one right under their
nose.
Hilary flipped through the rest of the newspaper when a small headline
leapt out from the newsprint. "Oh dear God." Hilary reread the article
several times, hoping she had been mistaken. She had to be wrong.
Scott looked up from his coffee, alarmed at the ghostly expression on
her face. "Hilary?"
"I... have to get ready for Library Theatre," Hilary said. She grabbed
her script and left the Green Room before the tears started.
Scott called after her. "Hilary!" Noticing the newspaper left behind,
Scott glanced at the headline that had made her leave so abruptly. To
his surprise, the headline appeared in the obituaries: "Giles Aldwych,
Drama Teacher, 76."
"Oh, Hilary." Scott said softly, understanding. Giles Aldwych had been
Hilary's mentor before her rise to fame. Scott had met the drama teacher
briefly when he worked out a deal with the Aldwych Academy of Drama to
help out their beleaguered cast. To lose that connection to her past
must be that much harder for the increasingly lonely Hilary.
Scott quickly finished his coffee. He needed to make a quick phone call
before he went on the air. He left the Green Room, heading straight for
the front desk. Gertrude Reece sat in front of her switchboard, utterly
bored by the current radio programming.
"Gertie, put me through to the Aldwych Academy," Scott said calmly.
"Why?" Gertie asked, complying with the request. "Need another
replacement for Mackie?"
"I'll explain later." Scott said, taking up the phone. Gertie tried to
listen to the conversation, but Scott lowered his voice. "Yes, Enid,
this is Scott Sherwood…" He said. "Calm down, Enid, I read about Giles.
What happened?" He listened, his face falling. "I see. Will the Academy
be all right?" He nodded. "Okay, I have to be on the air. Call WENN if
you need anything."
Gertie asked, replacing the receiver. "You have some explaining to do,
Scott Sherwood."
"Scott!" Betty Roberts called out down the corridor. "You're on in two
minutes."
"Oh, sorry, Gertie," Scott said, checking his watch, "will you look at
the time?"
Scott stepped into Studio A just as Hilary was introducing "Pittsburgh
Library Theater." Hilary put on a brave front. She was an actress, after
all. But Scott could see past her towering pillar of strength to see
also her extreme vulnerability.
"Lady Beatrice," Scott asked, glancing at his script, taking the part of
the quick-witted Benedict, "have you wept all this while?"
Hilary said, her eyes softening, "Yea, and I will weep a while longer."
Hilary had been crying in the Writer's Room since she had read the news.
Betty would be watching the radio broadcast to make sure everything went
smoothly.
"I will not desire that," Scott shook his head.
"You have no reason," Hilary said with some surprise. "I do it freely."
The program passed by without incident. For once, Scott stuck to the
script, no interruptions and no improvisations. He treated Shakespeare's
words with the respect Hilary would have wished and Giles Aldwych would
have insisted upon. This was her tribute to her fallen teacher. And for
her part, Hilary poured her heart into the part of the grief-stricken
and angry Beatrice.
When the program was completed, Hilary turned on Scott in the corridor
of the WENN studios.
"You… you…" Hilary tried to raise her voice against Scott. Instead she
asked simply. "Why?"
Scott replied. "I saw the newspaper article. I also talked to Enid at
the Academy. Aldwych had been sick for some time. But he had continued
to work even after the doctors told him otherwise. He died in his sleep.
He didn't suffer, Hilary." He finished. "I wanted to help."
"Oh," Hilary said. "So you were afraid I was going to fall apart on the
air."
"No, you're an actress, Hilary," Scott said, "I knew it would take more
than that. But I did want to give you a chance to say goodbye. What's
the line?" Scott asked. "Parting is such sweet sorrow."
Hilary smiled, then wiped a tear away from her eyes. "Thank you,
Scotty."
"Anytime, Hildy." Scott said. Hilary glared at him. "Anytime."
THE END
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Author's Note:
Another in my old "Remember WENN" fanfic archives that I started
but never finished. At some point, a fic challenge was issued on
WENNlist to write about Giles Aldwych's death. This was the resulting
story. The brief scene between Scott and Hilary comes from Act IV of
Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing."