I need to get from Drury Lane to St Johns Wood before heyou know
I cant even finish a sentence! Theres no way Im capable of taking over Ingrids workload.
Melvin, I dont think its going to work for me right now. I have to be available andhis schedules very tricky at the moment
What am I doing? What I am saying?
Yes, yes, of course. I understand. I can hear him tapping his pen. Well, it was just on the off chance. He cant wait to get me off the line.
Suddenly Im desperate again. Oh, of course! I mean, if you want someone to fill in just for a few days or somethingI mean, if theres anything I can do
Yes, Ill keep you in mind, he says briskly. Take care, Edie.
And the line goes dead.
I hang up.
Turning, I catch sight of myself in the antique looking-glass hanging at the bottom of the stairs. A dim, filmy shadow clouds its surface like a phantom, compromising its clarity. Even the elaborate gilt frame cant redeem its grey face.
There I am, diffuse and uncertain, blinking back at myself. A wave of self-loathing engulfs me.
Ive done it again.
Every time Im close to getting somewhere, I back away from the edge of the cliff.
Ive lost my taste for heights. But I dont know where or when it happened.
Dont you miss your boyfriend? Robbies lying on her back on my bed, staring at the ceiling and dangling her legs in the air. She never spends any time in her own room at all, which is just as well, considering what a sty it is.
Im unpacking my books; stacks of play texts and anthologies Ive lugged all the way from the States. Yeah, sure. But we talk a lot, so that helps.
She looks at me. No, I mean, dont you miss him?
My face flushes. Yes. I suppose.
Nice to know youre human, Evie Rose Garlick! She gives my ponytail a tug. Hey! Ive been thinking. Theres this great Fassbinder speech I think you should have a look at. She swings her legs round and sits up. Ill be right back.
She pads off to her room.
Look at for what? There are no shelves. I pile my books from largest to smallest against the wall.
They fall over.
For Juilliard! I can hear her sifting through the chaos.
I start again. Two piles this time.
I already have my pieces.
She appears in the doorway, holding a battered volume. But just look at this! She flings herself back on to the bed. Its amazing! Here. Read it out loud. Youll love it!
I take the book. It smells musty, like she stole it from a library. Which one?
The Model.
Sometimes I like to fondle myself I look up, shocked. This is all aboutabout masturbating, Robbie!
She claps her hands in glee. Isnt it amazing? Its so sexy and raw! If you did that for Juilliard, theyd be floored, Evie! Nobody does that speech!
But itsdisgusting! I say, unable to stop reading.
Its Fassbinder. Its meant to be shocking. And youre so cute. You come across like such a good little girlit would be amazing to turn the tables like this!
Im sorry I shut the book and hand it back to her. I cant do that speech.
What are you talking about? Youre an actress, arent you? Whats wrong with it?
I open my wardrobe doors. Its soso, overt! And tasteless, Robbie! Picking up my laundry bag, I shake my clean clothes onto the floor. Id be too embarrassed to say those things!
But thats why youre an actress, right? So you can say all sorts of shit you normally wouldnt! Anyway, dont you ever get yourself off?
Stop it! I fold the pieces roughly. And Im not telling you anyway!
She shrugs her shoulders. Why not? I do. Everybody does. I have the most fantastic, big, black, rubber vibrator. Want to see it?
No! I dont want to see it!
Want to borrow it?
No! I really dont! This is the pile for ironing. Stop it! Youre being disgusting!
So, what do you use? The shower head? She looks around the room. A candle?
Robbie! I pick up my ironing and march into the kitchen.
She follows. Obviously, she enjoys winding me up.
Come on, Evie! Give! She hauls herself up on top of the kitchen counter, oblivious to the piles of washing up. She watches as I struggle to open the ironing board. What do you dream of? Two guys at once? Two girls at once? Dogs? She bangs her feet against the cabinets like a naughty child. You country girls are the worst!
I dont do any of that. I yank up the ironing board. It balances precariously. Then collapses again.
Humm. She rubs her chin. I know! Horses! Like Catherine the Great!
Stop it, Robbie! Im becoming upset. I mean it.
Ill bet you have a thing for big burly black boysor maybe some sort of pervy incest thingoh, Daddy and all of thatnothing wrong with that, mind you.
Im serious! Please! I dont want to talk about this! Pulling the board up again, I wrestle it into position.
Thats it, isnt it! Youre a Daddys girl, arent you!
Robbie I want her to stop.
Oh, look, Daddy! She puts on a little girl voice. Ive grown out of my training bra!
Robbie! I turn away.
Are you crying?
A hot, angry tear works its way down my cheek. I brush it away with the back of my hand.
Hey! She launches herself off the kitchen counter. I didnt mean to upset you. Why didnt you just tell me to fuck off?
I wish shed leave me alone. I cant. My throats painfully tight.
What do you mean you cant? Im telling you to!
No, what I mean is, I cant! Why does she have to make such a big deal of everything? When I get angry or upset, I justjust cry, like some sort of fool! I cant even do it on stage! Whenever I have to get angry in a scene I melt down instead. I go numb and then Im crying even harder now. I just cant do it!
Why not? She offers me a kitchen chair and sits down next to me. Whats the worst thing that can happen?
I dont know. No one will like me. Ill be ugly and vicious and evil, and all this shit will come out and I wont be able to control it.
Yeah? She stares at me. So?
What do you mean, so? Shes being deliberately obtuse. No one will like me! Ill lose everything thats important!
Its bullshit. She wraps an arm round me. Take me, for example. You could have a real go at me and Id probably just think it was funny
Youre not like normal people, I assure her. I mean, dont get me wrongI think its great. I wish I could be as free as you and not give a shit. But I do!
She gives me a squeeze. Youre too soft, darling. We have to toughen you up. Are people really that fragile in Ohio?
I think of my parents. Silence at the dinner table; my mother sitting across from my father, pushing her food round and round on her platemy father cutting his meat into hunks, forcing it between his lips, glaring at his water glass
No. People dont really get angry where I come from.
Then New York will be good for you. The whole joint is seething!
I sink my head against her shoulder. I may not be going to New York.
Oh, yes, you will! If I have anything to do with it! Besides, I need a chum I can torment day and night. Hey! She turns to face me, suddenly excited. What would Raven do?
Nothing. I roll my eyes. She doesnt exist, Robbie.
She pokes me in the arm. Yes, she does! Thats the whole point of alter egos. Come on, what would she do?
I wish shed just let this whole Raven thing gojust because I used the name one nightI rub my running nose on the back of my hand. I dont knowtell you to fuck off, I suppose.
Great! Standing up, she pulls me to my feet. So tell me to fuck off!
But I dont feel it.
So act it! Be Raven!
This isnt going to work. Fuck off, I mumble.
Shes staring at me, hands on hips. No, youre not going to New York. Come on, Evie, try harder!
Fuck off, Robbie! I start to giggle. I cant do it!
She shakes her head, dragging me into the hallway. Well, its a start I suppose. Come on!
Why? Where are we going? I follow her into her room.
She flings her handbag over her shoulder, chucking a rapidly shedding fur jacket at me. Catch! To Soho, my love! Lets get you this biggest, most obscene dildo we can find! And then were going to stop at the all-night chemists and get some hair dye. Its time you started taking Raven Nightly seriously!
Ive never had a friend like thissomeone so sophisticated, exciting and urbane that they dont even mind if I shout at them. I slip on the jacket, surveying myself in the mirror. Already I look differentcooler; much more grown up. None of my old friends would ever even dare to say the word dildo out loud, let alone buy one.
Robbie hammers on Imos door. Were going dildo shopping in Soho, darling! Can we get you anything?
Silence.
This is the time that Im can normally be found talking to her mother long distance or leafing her way through the New Testament.
The door opens a crack. A twenty-pound note appears. Something pink. And not too obvious, she instructs.
And then it shuts again.
This place is a dive. Imo brushes her hand over the dirty tablecloth with disdain. I dont know why we have to do this, she says for the ninth time in five minutes.
BecauseRobbies eyes flit around the roomthis is where Im going to teach you how to seduce a man. And we dont have much time. Sit up, Evie. And push your breasts out.
I am, I say, irritated.
Oh. She looks me over. Yeah.
Were sitting in the basement room of a wine bar called Bubbles, located just round the corner from our flat in Baker Street. Everythings pink: the walls, the tablecloths, the chairsa kind of bubblegum, Pink Panther pink, which only heightens the sense that were extras in a low-budget early 1960s film. However, instead of Rock Hudson and Doris Day bursting into song, we have small clusters of Arabs and balding businessmen enjoying the late-night talents of Rocco Rizzi and his vibraphone stylings. Rocco sits in his black tuxedo and white ruffled shirt on a small circular stage covered in pink shag pile carpet, a disco ball and strobe light dangling above his head. Hes just launched into a particularly slow and heart-felt version of Summertime. With extra vibrato.
I love this song. Imo sighs. And she hums along, in her slender, slightly operatic soprano voice.
My wrap keeps falling off. I pull it up again. Tonight, were all wearing treasures gleaned from Robbies amazing wardrobe, which consists mostly of 1950s evening gowns, vintage cardigans and quite a lot of dead animals. The wrap is one of her prized pieces. Its made from two rather moudly foxes which attach to one another by biting each others tails; a trick accomplished with the aid of little clips glued underneath their tiny chins. One of them has had a beady glass eye replaced with a small black button. He looks particularly deranged. We call him Dave and the other Derek. Dave and Derek accompany us on most nights out, coming into their own after weve had too much to drink. Then they chat up strangers and perform lewd dance routines. But the chances of that happening tonight look rather slim.
Weve already been here twenty minutes and nothings happened.
The barmans back again. Are you ladies ready to order yet?
Robbie picks up the little cardboard menu of drinks with exaggerated enthusiasm. We just cant decide between all these amazing cocktails! she gushes. Look, Evie! Sex on the Beach, A Slow Comfortable Screwso many choices and so little time! She laughs, a gay Scarlett OHara trill.
Hes unimpressed. Well, sooner rather than later, girls, he warns us, sloping back to polish glasses in the curve of the pink bar.
We dont have any money I remind Robbie. (Every time I turn round, the barman glares at me.)
Money is cheating. She tugs at her white mink bolero, scanning the room again.
Two men with hair walk in and saunter up to the bar. Theyre reasonably young (below fifty), reasonably dressed (suits and ties) and laughing loudly as if they might be reasonably fun too. Robbies eyes light up.
Bingo! She leans forward the way you strain over the edge of the platform for a long-awaited train. Smile, Evie! Imo! Stop howling and smile!
The three of us sit there beaming. Eventually their drinks are served. They turn round and find us grinning at them.
Now look away! Robbie hisses. Imo, avert your eyes! Thats right! Toy with them!
So we all stare at Rocco instead. He gets excited and swings into a Simon and Garfunkel tribute, starting with a disco version of Feeling Groovy.