Breathless (15 page)

Charlotte shyly stepped into the theatre through the entrance marked "Stage Door", and felt excitement as the cool backstage air rushed over her skin and the wonderful smell of sawdust and heavy makeup wafted around her. Stagehands scurried busily back and forth, hardly paying any attention to the young girl in the school uniform lingering backstage.

"Excuse me," she finally whispered to a young man dressed entirely in black. "Could you tell me where the stage is, please?"

He frowned at her. "There is a show in progress, Miss."

"I know," Charlotte frowned back. "I'm here to see Helen Carey. She told me I could come whenever I wanted."

"Can't you see we're busy here?" he asked frustratedly. "Can you find your way out the door yourself or will I have to escort you?"

Charlotte's eyes widened incredulously. "What?" she sputtered. "I'm not leaving!" she told him in a definite tone. "I was invited and I don't think it's up to you to uninvite me!"

"Do you realize this is private property?" she asked, anger now in his eyes. "Buy and ticket and sit in the audience if you want a show. Don't infringe on the actors' privacy!"

"As if I would ever-!"

"Charlotte, how wonderful to see you again!" Lizzie Ferguson, Helen's beautiful red-haired friend suddenly appeared backstage, taking Charlotte's arm and giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Have you come to see Helen?"

Charlotte gave a superior look to the stagehand before telling Lizzie very importantly, "Yes. I got my script for
Sylvia
today and I couldn't wait to see the theatre again."

"Of course!" Lizzie smiled at her. "Excuse us," she said politely to the stagehand, who wandered away quietly. "Helen told me the news. She's so excited to have another actor in the family! You can't even imagine her delight! We're all so thrilled for you." she told Charlotte with a smile.

"I certainly hope I can live up to everyone's expectations," Charlotte laughed nervously, her fears all flooding back to her. She anxiously folded her arms in front of her chest.

"Stop you're worrying," Lizzie told her logically, tipping Charlotte's face up to her own. "I felt the very same way when I began to act. You can't imagine how nervous I was for my very first big role! But the rest of the castmates, the director, everyone who works for the theatre or comes to see the show are all very supportive. You'll feel right at home on the stage by the end of your first performance."

"I think I already do," Charlotte whispered with a smile, remembering her feelings from the first time she had stepped onto the stage.

"Good. Would you like to wait for Helen in the dressing room?"

"I'd actually like to watch from backstage, if you don't mind," Charlotte asked tentatively. "I mean, if that's alright. I'd just really like to experience theatre from the inside."

"Of course," Lizzie said, as if she understood perfectly. She guided Charlotte toward a door and pushed her inside. "I'll be along shortly for my last scenes. We're in the middle of the third act, already, so there won't be much longer to wait."

"Thank you," Charlotte whispered, and closed the door behind her, walking into the dark wings of the stage.

That was when everything changed. It was so different from the other side. The air was hotter as the stage lights bore down onto the actors and the heat radiated back into the wings. The heavy black and red curtains gently swung with the slightest of movements, but Charlotte couldn't guess what made them move, for the air felt so still. Stagehands spoke quietly with one another in business tones, looking over spreadsheets of where the props should be placed and when curtains should be drawn. Smaller stagehands, who couldn't be older than fourteen, dangled from the ropes strung up on the sides of the wings, ready to pull a curtain open or closed at any moment. Actors stood backstage, too, waiting for their scenes. Charlotte instantly recognized the man who played the butler by his heavy chops, and another handsome man who played Algernon. The actors were possibly the most interesting to study. Charlotte hung back in the wings as she looked at them, intrigued. Some chatted jovially with other castmates or crew members, joking and smiling as if they were at a party, all while keeping an eye on the players onstage and listening for cues. Other actors seemed to be watching and listening intently to the play, not daring to step out of character for even a moment. Charlotte wondered what kind of actress she would be. She wondered what kind of actress her mother had been.

And then, there was Helen onstage, sitting on a bench onstage, looking every bit of Gwendolyn Fairfax as she had when Charlotte had watched her when she sat in the audience with Lewis and Jack. Charlotte felt so proud to be a part of Helen's life as she watched her onstage. This beautiful woman was everything Charlotte hoped to be someday-talented, lovely, with an amazing husband and a child...

But then Charlotte remembered Jack, probably out drinking somewhere or cooped up in his room. Was that how children ended up when they had parents who were actors? It couldn't be the same for all of them. Luc would never behave how Jack did. But what was the difference between Helen and her mother, then? How had Helen failed in a way her own mother hadn't?

Charlotte's thoughts were interrupted with a start when the audience broke into cheers as the curtain fell. Charlotte grinned and clapped madly, waving to get Helen's attention. When she saw her, Helen's eyes lit up and she grinned back at Charlotte before the curtain rose one last time, and the cast took their final bows. When it had closed for good, Helen excitedly ran backstage to see her, like a young girl who was seeing a friend for the first time in a long time.

"Charlotte!" she gasped, pulling her into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're here!"

"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier!" Charlotte told her, holding tightly to Helen. "Celia and I were reading the new script and doing schoolwork..."

"Of course, all of that comes first and you know that," Helen said, pulling away and tapping the tip of Charlotte's nose with a smile. "Is Celia here, as well?" she asked, looking around.

"No, she had to get back before curfew."

"You know both of you are welcome here any time," Helen told her very seriously. "You're family now. And Celia, too. And I love when my family comes around. I'm so glad you did." She pecked Charlotte on the cheek so sweetly that Charlotte felt tears sting her eyes. Helen was just so happy to have her there. It seemed like such a small indulgent for someone so wonderful.

"I have to go take off this hat and wig before I succumb to heat exhaustion," Helen said as she pulled away and fanned herself. "You can stay and look around if you'd like. I know you enjoyed that last time," she said with a knowing smile. "I'll be back momentarily!"

Charlotte nodded and smiled. She watched Helen walk from the wings, chatting excitedly with Lizzie, just like she and Celia did. Lizzie even matched Celia's red hair and pearly skin. Charlotte smiled watching them, imagining the friendships she might be able to build when she started her own show.

The wings slowly cleared out, until only the ghost light was left onstage. Lewis had told her about the ghost light-how one light was always left in the center of the darkened stage to keep the ghosts of the theatre at bay. Charlotte thought this was rather silly and exciting all at the same time, imagining the ghosts of actors and actresses who just couldn't stay away from their craft, even after their deaths.

When she was sure that all the stagehands and left, Charlotte hesitantly went to the largest rope and pulled as hard as she could, opening the front red curtain to reveal the seats of the auditorium, abandoned by their patrons. Charlotte walked to stand in the middle of the stage, looking out at the emptiness and imagining the seats magically filled with audience members, dressed in their finest for opening night, all waiting to see her.

Charlotte grinned and bobbed on the balls of her feet, soaking in this feeling. It was glorious, and she hadn't even spoken a word yet.

"You must not laugh at me, darling,"
she began to whisper with a smile on her face, recalling one of her favorite lines of the show that had been performed only moments before. "
But it had always been a

girlish dream of mine to love someone whose name was Ernest.
" She didn't feel shy, anymore. her voice began to grow stronger. "
There is something in that name that seems to inspire absolute confidence. I pity any poor married woman whose husband is not called Ernest.
" It felt so right, speaking out to the audience, as if she were speaking to Luc or Celia. It was comfortable, but thrilling.

Charlotte walked slightly downstage, toward the audience, remembering another line from a play she knew well.
"I was your little skylark, your doll, which you would in future treat with doubly gentle care, because it was so brittle and fragile
," she said, quoting
A Doll's House
. "
It was then it dawned upon me that for eight years I had been living here with a strange man, and had borne him three children-. Oh! I can't bear to think of it! I could tear myself into little bits!
" It was a role that Helen had played. Charlotte had studied it over and over, trying to imagine how Helen would have said it, or how Nora would have been feeling as she spoke these words to her husband.

Charlotte bit her lip, rather excited now. She walked in a circle around the stage, proclaiming the lines of a show she didn't even like with a sense of mockery in her tone. "
Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo?
" she said dramatically, rounding the circle to come downstage again. Her face broke out into a grin, her voice feeling strong and sure. She threw her arms to the side and spoke her very favorite lines of
Sylvia
.

"
When I was young,"
she began in breathless delight. "I
imagined love to be so different. I imagined that we would do everything together, experience everything together. And as I grew older, I realized that I didn't just want to do everything, but I wanted to go everywhere together, so that we would never have to leave each other's sides. But now...now, I realize that even when we've been everywhere and done everything, all that really matters is that we're
together." Charlotte finished the last word with an emphasis, smiling brightly.

This was such an incredible feeling. It was as if the old, lonely, tragic Charlotte had left, and was replaced by someone she didn't even know. The character of Sylvia seemed to fill her to the brim, until she was Sylvia entirely, feeling her emotions and thinking her thoughts. Charlotte had never been in love before, she realized with a start, but Sylvia somehow made her feel as if she was in love with Leighton, someone she had never even met, but someone who took her breath away.

"I must be mad," Charlotte whispered to herself, clenching her hair in her hands. But she couldn't dampen her grin. Nothing could ruin this feeling.

Until she heard the quiet footsteps slowly approach her.

Charlotte turned slowly, knowing that Helen was behind her and sensing that something was wrong, terribly wrong. Helen, who could never mask her feelings well, looked miserable, with worried eyes and a creased brow, so different than how she had appeared as Gwendolyn. She seemed old and tired and sad.

"Charlotte," she said quietly. "I'm afraid I have some bad news." She sighed and took Charlotte's hands into her own, squeezing them with reassurance that everything would be alright. "Lewis," she began hesitantly, "he heard back from his cousin who works for the government. He learned news of your family."

Charlotte's chest tightened, her face falling as Helen gave her the news that would change her forever.

"Charlotte, your father is dead."

Charlotte cried for hours in Helen's arms, shaking uncontrollably, not wanting to believe it was true. She had never expected Lewis learn terrible news like this. She had just wanted to be reassured that her family was safe. Charlotte sobbed, devastated that she would never hear her father's soft voice again, or his quiet laughter, or even his critical reprimanding. She hated herself for not being able to attend his funeral, or to be there for her mother and Luc during this difficult time. She didn't even know how he had died-no one did. No one seemed to be able to answer any of her questions. So she just laid in Helen's arms and cried, for everything she had lost and everything she feared losing.

She couldn't eat. She couldn't fall asleep. And still, Helen stayed with her until the late hours. Lewis came up to Charlotte's room deep into the night, and convinced Helen that what Charlotte maybe needed was some time alone. He took Helen to bed. And then Charlotte was alone. Again.

She curled up in bed and hugged herself, sobbing loudly with no one to quiet her. She rocked herself back and forth, trying to remember what it had felt like to be in her father's arms, what he had smelled like...but nothing came easily. Even his face was growing blurrier by the moment. Charlotte shook as her tears racked her body.

And then she was startled by someone climbing into bed with her, and holding her from behind. Jack wrapped his arms around her quivering body and began to rock her, as he had on that night so many days ago when she had dreamed what was now reality. Charlotte couldn't stop crying even as Jack held her, and sleep did not come easily. But he didn't seem to mind. He continued to hold her and rock her. Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Charlotte must have fallen asleep. But when she woke, there was no sign of Jack.