A Comedian Dies Read Online Free PDF Page A

you for ringing back,’ said Maurice grandly, as if it were an everyday occurrence. ‘I’ve got you a telly.’
    â€˜A telly?’ Good God. Was it possible? Could rivers flow uphill? Had Maurice Skellern undergone a personality transplant and joined that small elite of agents who actually get work for their clients? ‘What is it?’
    â€˜It’s an
Alexander Harvey Show,
’ Maurice dropped casually.
    â€˜An
Alexander Harvey Show
?’ Charles couldn’t control the great surge of excitement he felt at the words. At last he was going to be recognized, not just as an adequate support player, but as a personality in his own right. Alexander Harvey hosted the most successful chat-show in the country, which kept millions glued to their armchairs every Saturday night to watch the famous coruscate with wit in a spontaneous atmosphere of carefully rehearsed ad libs. And now the quicksilver repartee of Charles Paris was at last to be accorded its proper recognition. He was to be a guest on the
Alexander Harvey Show.
‘When is it, Maurice?’
    â€˜Three weeks Saturday.’ Then the agent added maliciously, ‘Why, have you got something else big on?’
    â€˜Ha ha. No, of course I haven’t. Because my bloody agent never puts me up for anything, doesn’t know any important casting directors and is so in touch with the world of theatre that he thought the recent opening of Sophocles’
Oedipus Rex
was a world première!’
    â€˜Now, Charles, that was a genuine mistake. And it’s very hurtful when you dismiss my efforts in that cavalier manner. After all, I told you about the auditions for the modern dress
Look Back in Anger
in Colchester. And I’ve just got you this telly.’
    Charles apologized. ‘Yes, I’m being unfair. Sorry. How did the telly come about?’
    â€˜Had a call from one of the Alexander Harvey researchers yesterday. Apparently they’re doing some big nostalgia programme. It’s the fortieth anniversary of the valve or something and they’re going to recreate some of the great radio and telly shows of the forties and fifties.’
    â€˜But I wasn’t in any of the great radio and telly shows of the forties and fifties.’
    â€˜No, I know you weren’t. Let me finish. One of the things they want to recreate is one of the old Barber and Pole routines. You remember them . . . Lennie Barber and Wilkie Pole. Well, apparently a guy who’s advising on the show, producer called Walter Proud – don’t know if you know him – well, he remembered that you used to do a very good impersonation of Wilkie Pole . . . Pole died, incidentally . . .don’t know if you knew . . .’
    Maurice continued his explanation and Charles felt a burning blush spread over his checks. To have thought that he was actually wanted for himself, not just as a convenient comedy feed. He tried to recall if he’d said anything to Maurice that might indicate the way his thoughts had been turning. He decided he was probably safe.
    â€˜I won’t be expected to talk?’ he asked with slight distaste, as if appearing on a chat-show was his idea of a personal hell.
    â€˜Oh, good Lord, no. They’ll have Lennie Barber on for a bit of chat. All you have to do is play Pole in the little sketch at the end. Only one day’s rehearsal and the money’s good.’
    They went into some detail over the money. Charles, always amazed by the size of television fees, thought they should ask for a bit more on principle. Maurice was of the opinion that, if any fuss were made, the casting director involved would say thank you very much and find someone else. Charles decided, on reflection, that Maurice was probably right.
    They then talked a bit about Bill Peaky’s death and Charles asked if Maurice had any form on the comedian.
    â€˜Not a lot. Only got big recently. I’ve heard he had a bit of a