It Ends with Revelations Read Online Free PDF Page A

Cyril tomorrow? Oh, Peter, look!’
    Through the glass doors of the foyer, a boy wearing grey flannel trousers and a striped blazer was to be seen. He was standing beyond the pillars of the portico and looking up at the theatre.
    ‘The soul’s awakening,’ said Peter. ‘That’s a new outfit – I suppose he thinks he looks like a boy from a good Prep school. Why can’t he dress like a normal teenager?’
    ‘Poor love, he isn’t a normal anything. I hope he sees his photograph – yes, he’s going to it. Come on, Peter, let’s start the good work. Encourage him.’
    ‘Oh, not tonight, Jill – please!’ But he let himself be steered through the foyer doors and said, pleasantly enough, ‘Hello, Doug.’
    The boy turned quickly. ‘I’m not Doug yet, Mr Hesper – look, it says “Cyril Digby” under my photo and it’ll be on the programme here. And we can’t have my hair dyed this week, can we? Not with that fair photo here.’
    ‘Maybe not.’ Peter had switched on a charming smile. ‘Well see how the audiences here like you fair.’
    Jill, who had met the boy on the train, always gave herself a dispensation regarding lies spoken to actors in need of encouragement. She said now, ‘I know you’re going to be splendid.’
    ‘I ought to be, to act with such a wonderful actor as Mr Quentin. And with such a wonderful director. Do you think I’ll be all right, Mr Hesper?’
    ‘Of course you will.’ Peter managed it fairly convincingly .
    ‘Honest, Mr Hesper? You had me worried this last week.’
    ‘Well, we often get worried towards the end of rehearsals . Now cut along and get a good night’s sleep. Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll be as good as you were on television.’
    ‘Came out all right there, didn’t I? Thank you for your faith in me, Mr Hesper. You know I’ll do just anything to please you, change my name, dye my hair – though I feel right, fair.’
    ‘Well, we’ll see. Now be in the theatre by one o’clock tomorrow and I’ll help you with your make-up.’
    ‘I got all the stuff you told me to.’ He turned to Jill. ‘You don’t have to do your own make-up on television.’
    ‘You’ll soon learn how to. Good night, Cyril.’
    ‘Good night, Doug ,’ said Peter, firmly.
    ‘Good night, Mrs Quentin. Good night, Mr Hesper. Thanks ever so for cheering me up.’
    Jill, as they went back into the foyer, said, ‘Don’t tell me that boy’s eighteen.’
    ‘He is. I’ve seen his birth certificate. It’s his dwarfishness that’s put me off him.’
    ‘But, Peter, his voice is young, too. He’s got an ugly accent, hasn’t he? Simply choked with glottal stop. But I suppose that’s good for the part.’
    ‘It would be, if he’d stick to it. He’s now starting to imitate Miles – oh, not all the time; just every now and then, when the fancy strikes him. I haven’t the heart to tell him the part’s that of a gutter-snipe and he just needs to be himself.’
    ‘I should hope not, poor kid. Come on, your sandwiches will have arrived.’
    Back in the stalls, she reported to Miles. He thought she had done well and was particularly pleased that Peter had been kind to Cyril. ‘What with that and seeing his photograph displayed, he should be feeling much better.’
    ‘I found him more than a bit pathetic. Is anyone looking after him?’
    ‘No one has to, specially, as he isn’t a child, but I did make enquiries,’ said Miles. ‘He’s sharing rooms with his understudy who’s got his Mum with him. Cyril’s an orphan.’
    ‘Wouldn’t you guess it? Tell me he’s all alone in the world.’
    ‘No, I gather he lives with a brother. What he needs most is an agent. I was wondering if Tom Albion would take him on.’
    ‘Rather small beer for Tom, isn’t he? Look, Peter’s beginning to light.’
    ‘Let’s stay and watch for a bit.’
    They stayed until the first act had been lit. Jill knew enough about lighting to enjoy watching it being done but by eleven-thirty she felt