"I'm going to fucking kill Hannah Marriot."
"Again?"
"No, I mean really this time. She just does this to fuck up the actors, I swear she does. In this case literally so."
"Think of the money."
"Think of getting typecast as the scheming bitch in Hannah Marriot plays. Look, if I do this I'll never get the Mrs Gorston part. You can't have twelve-year-olds watching the wise and saintly schoolteacher who was last seen sucking dick in the Empire at Bristol. Jesus H., Ronnie, I can't do this. I'll just have to tell Cliff I can't do it."
"Which is more important to your career? Will Cliff let you? And you don't really...?"
"Don't know, don't know, and yes I do suck dick, this is Hannah, remember. No realism spared. I think she's trying to stretch the boundaries, or maybe it just turns her on. Some nasty voyeur streak."
"But... you don't...
really
...? She surely doesn't expect...?"
"Oh come on, Ronnie, acting? Acting? We're actors? We pretend? His penis does not in fact enter my mouth at any point in the proceedings, but I'm paid quite a lot of money to give a very convincing visual pretence of it to the unwashed philistines who have paid forty quid a pop to get front row seats because they heard there was cock-sucking in it, and after the interval when they've refreshed themselves they come back to watch me tonguing some young actress, who by the way is probably Hannah's next victim."
"Well, you've done sex scenes before," Ronnie said, distinctly uneasily. The noises of ire and disgust and exasperation that Jemima had been making as she flicked through the playscript over the breakfast table had left him, if anything, more downhearted than he usually was at her reception of any new play. Jemima hated living playwrights with a passion, he often thought; and phenomenally successful new ones like Hannah Marriot represented a personal affront.
Jemima eyed him sarcastically, looking away from the script for once. "I have done sex scenes before, in the sense that I have been in a bed, sheet up to our necks, bra on, with a poof rolling onto me and us both going 'oh oh oh!' for ten seconds, yes."
"
The Tiger House
."
"Okay, full frontal in
The Tiger House
and Brian Metcalf squeezing his erection against a part of my groin where it didn't do anything very interesting. I admit there was
The Tiger House
."
"Actually I thought Brian Metcalf was a poof. He's very poofy when you meet him. Clammy hands. Was he really erect?"
"Sometimes. Couldn't see it from the audience, of course. Weren't allowed to in those days. Now we're enlightened. And he's not a poof, he's a luvvie, it's just his gimmick to camp it up. He'd have been very happy to get into me, I can tell you. I was quite enjoying it by the end of the run. I was wet and he could feel it and we were both frustrated."
"Jemima! You assured me, you swore to me there was nothing going on! You said you weren't interested in him."
"I wasn't, you fool. We didn't want to do it with each other, well he did, obviously, being a man, but even he knew he couldn't get away with actual penetration before an audience of four hundred. So funny watching him trying to hobble off the set detumescing as fast as he could."
"Now I thought that was never supposed to happen. I naively supposed
professional
actors could control their... their bodily functions."
"Oh, dear child."
"And don't dear child me, Jemima. The Harkness sarcasm is for when you're being interviewed."
"No dear, it's for when I loathe the person I'm speaking to. I just happen to loathe all interviewers, as a race. Now. I can't do this play. Or can I? What do you think?"
"Well, what exactly do you have to do? How explicit?"
"Okay, well Hannah knows she still can't get away with visible cock-sucking. She just says 'Marie gives Declan a blow-job. After he reaches climax he collapses back on the bed and laughs.'"
"Why does he laugh? No, wait. Don't tell me."
"Good choice. Did I mention we're naked? It's not just parting the zip of his trousers and fussing about with his underpants, it's me prancing round for five minutes giving the front row my bush and floppy tits. Anyway, I don't mind that. The philistines don't get to touch me. Declan does, lots."
"Who's the Declan?"
"Cliff's been talking about John Collier or Bill McGee. For someone to act with I'd rather it be Johnny, but I'd rather Bill's dick in my face. I think. I'm guessing," she added, appeasing his rather startled look. "I assure you I don't know Bill's dick. He's just rather nice."
"Implying...?"
"Yes, I screwed Johnny, you know I did. Before you. I told you. It was okay but he's getting on and so am I. New blood is what I want. Hah!" she suddenly laughed with a wince. "What's Bill McGee doing now?"
"Well
Coriolanus
finished a while ago, so I don't know. You could --"
"No,
now
. He's sitting at breakfast like this, with some twenty-year-old dolly bird pouring his tea, and he's very tactfully emphasizing how much older I am than she is. 'Jesus H.,' he's saying, 'that Jemima Harkness is forty-three! Her tits are floppy and she's fat from her children. Honeybunch, I can't do this play!'"
Ronnie had been saying very little all the time, because he was fearfully hungover, and trying to eat enough stodge to get his system back to working before he went out to make a nuisance of himself to publishers. He let Jemima get voluble because he thought it was good practice for an actor to make use of all their indignant expressions. He momentarily lost interest in his jealousy and went off to find another painkiller.
"You haven't asked me about the tonguing."
"You said you tongue some young thing. I assume that's easy to fake though. Who is she?"
"Do you know Carlotta Massini? She was in
The Hustings
, played the courier. Quite a pretty young thing, striking looks, and not a bad actor. I mean, she doesn't just get parts by, um, you know."
"Cock-sucking. Or in Hannah's case pussy-licking."
"I don't think Hannah is, you know. I've never seen her with anyone, and she doesn't really come over that way. Vampire if anything. Sucks human blood and returns to her own planet. Would you like to meet her properly?"
"Is that a threat? Okay, so this young Carlotta is lying there, legs spread. Go on."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you? You'd love to see me eating someone out. Wouldn't you?"
"Don't be silly," he lied, "I know how much you despise dykes."
"I don't despise them! Two of my best friends are dykes. I just hate the thought of it. Eck!"
"But surely you just sort of approach the general area of her naked parts and move your head to and fro a bit while she does the 'oh oh oh!' part. How awful can that be?"
"Oh come on, I'm going to be an inch away from her cunt, I don't think I could face that smell. It really, Ronnie, it really does make me ill to think about it."
"Naked too?"
"Oh yes, starkers. We all spend half the time starkers. I don't think there's anyone who doesn't... oh wait, there's an airport official in Act Three who unaccountably manages to keep his uniform on. Possibly because it's in Terminal 4 at Heathrow. Not that that would stop Hannah. Look, here's the... where is it... okay, I'm seducing this young thing. Fine, I don't mind kissing her. That'll be nice, I've got no problem kissing women. Next I cup her breast longingly. She's still got her skirt on at this stage, I'm just seducing the top half."
"Gotta do it right. Oh my
fucking
head. Oh my, oh I can't go out today. You have to do this play because I'm going to lose that Doubleday contract. It was a piece of shit anyway."
"Then I suck her tit. That's probably quite nice too, it's just soft and... Oh, but Ronnie, Hannah's such a sadist. This next bit. 'Marie licks Anna's genitals for about thirty seconds, first probing the depths of her vagina before sucking on her--'. Oh for christ's sake, why does she have to be so bloody explicit?"
"Oh ignore her. That's the director's job, Cliff won't want all that, it'll probably disgust him more than you, the old queer. He'll choreograph something abstract and symbolic."
"Oh Ronnie, Ronnie, dear child, this is Vampire Marriot from Planet 9, if we cut the thirty seconds to twenty-five we might as well set it in the Alps and dress as Rastafarians."
"Well it all sounds very difficult. Getting your mouth close to this nubile young Carlotta's budding pink quim, I can see how unpleasant that must be. It's quivering with... is Carlotta a lesbian, do you know?"
"No. The time I met her at Michael Dougall's party she had a handsome, a very handsome young man in tow. They seemed happy and perhaps a bit in love, I'm not sure. She's very nice. A sweet girl. I hope it is her, if I
do
do this hideous play, and if I
do
have to French-kiss a woman, at least it... Oh."
"What?"
"I'm being very selfish. I just had a horrible thought."
"Oh, no, Jemima, don't be silly."
"Shut up, Ronnie, you know I'm right. She's crying over her muesli thinking that appalling old woman Jemima Harkness is going to be... she's going to be absolutely devastated, because this is her break for the big lights, co-star in a Hannah Marriot..."
* * *
"Miss Harkness, please, come in, Lovely to meet you."
"We did meet, I think. Do you remember Mike Dougall from Eurofilm?"
"Oh yes, of course I remember you, how could I forget? I was honoured. But we didn't really talk then, did we?"
"No, I was trying to wangle one of the Sisters and you... er..."
"I don't know what I was doing there," Carlotta giggled. "I was basically hiding. I know I was wondering who to talk to. I just ate the canapés and told Lee I was lonely. My boyfriend," she added, to Jemima's eyebrows of enquiry.