Scarlet Rose

Chapter 51

(*picture above is young Richard Burton in Hamlet, 1951. In my imagination, Terry in his late 20's as an established actor is of similar intensity and looks)

He stood in front of the lit mirror, his stare lost inside his reflection looking back at him. He still hadn't come down to reality. The theatre had been rocked by the thunderous applause from everyone having watching him descend into chaos. Hamlet had tried to stand by his words, but his actions had not followed, till it was too late. He lost everything, Ophelia, his mother and in the end his life itself.

He had taken the audience through every feeling there was in the emotional spectrum. Anger, disappointment, rage, disgust, love, sadness, grief, vengeance. When he fell, his blood poisoned by Laertes' blade, there was not a dry tear in the house as the saying went.

People whistled, bravos were shouted, there was a standing ovation. Robert was beaming and so was he inside. He bowed, his heart beating fast in a flutter inside his chest. The whole troupe approached the edge of the stage for a second bow. His eyes fell on her. She looked flushed, her green eyes sparkled like emeralds under the bright lights. He had managed to see her face at times. A lot of times, Hamlet's words aligned with what occupied Terry's mind too. He had found this unsettling but there were moments, he had lost touch with what was happening and the lines between himself and Hamlet were fainting as if they were drawn on wet sand, to be erased by the passing of a wave.

He straightened his body. His stare turned to Christian. Both were standing up, his was a look of intrigue on his face. He wondered what would have been their reaction when they saw him on the stage. Perhaps they thought he had done it on purpose? The steps of Fate had been unexplained but then again, such coincidences...

He shook his head. He had to change from Hamlet's clothes. They hang wet with sweat on this body. The embers inside his eyes still burned bright. Two big bouquets of red roses were on the dressing table. One from Sir Flower representing the Royal Shakespeare Society and one from Robert. More flowers came. Another bouquet from John Barrymore. Till he actually went behind the screen to change, the theatre clerk had knocked another three times.

Robert and everyone who was lining up, to talk to him, to see this young star emerging in the London theatre scene, would be waiting at the theatre bar. But Terry took his time. He had taken his make up off, had a cigarette with couple of fingers of bourbon.

He wondered whether Candy and Christian had stayed behind too, but he wasn't holding his breath. He doubted either of them wanting to see him after the confrontations he had with them both already. Still... he wanted to apologise to Candy. He hated the fact he had lost control the way he did with her. In a way, he should have expected her to react the way she did.  As Christian was concerned...he hadn't regretted anything. Not only he had punched way below the belt to make Terry react because he had suspected all along there was something between Terry and "Rose", but he also kept a lot of shady things from her. He was putting her in danger and if he loved her truly, he would walk away from her.

He stopped for a minute. Christian's weird behaviour when he came round after his stabbing, came to mind. He had looked uneasy, he had been rude and above all, he wanted to break up with Candy...One more piece of the Christian "puzzle"  begged to find its place in his mind. But not at that moment. He stabbed the cigarette in the ashtray. He disappeared behind the silk screen.

There was a knock on the door. Another one...Terry pressed his lips. That boy insisted to knock every time he would come in with flowers. He ignored it, too. Bare chested he took his tights off. One more knock, this time slightly more determined. Terry put on a fresh pair of black trousers.

"For chrissakes! Come in already!" He shouted behind the screen. He was putting a clean shirt when he heard the door opening and closing and the steps of someone having entered the room.