He leant back with satisfaction, then, instinctively sensing the imminent collapse of his cigar ash, deposited another neat cylinder into the ash-tray.
‘There have been others too — Frank Sinatra once when he was over here, wanted a hit of advice on which way I thought his career should go. Glenda Jackson, Tom Jones, oh yes, they’ve all sat in that chair and asked for a bit of help from old Dickie Peck.’
Charles looked at the chair on which he was sitting with what he hoped was due reverence and didn’t believe a word of it.
‘But let me tell you, Mr Paris, of all the big stars I’ve ever seen, Christopher Milton is the biggest. That boy has so much talent, he can do anything. I mean, when you think that he is now only thirty-four, a mere baby, at the beginning of his career, I tell you in the future there’s going to be no stopping him. And Lumpkin! is the show that’s really going to put him in the big time.’ Realising that this could be constructed as diminishing his protege, he covered himself. ‘Not of course that he isn’t in the big time already. With the television show, a few films, oh yes, he’s right at the top. And it’s not that we haven’t had offers — oh, there have been plenty of scripts come along, plenty of managements with ideas, chance of a big musical on Broadway, Hollywood positively begging, but we said no. We preferred to bide our time, wait for the right show, the one that was absolutely right. Christopher Milton had got the telly, he was doing okay, he could afford to wait. That’s an important thing in this business, choosing the right work. Oh yes, you’ve got to be selective.’
Which is nice if you can afford to be selective, thought Charles. Most actors have to do what comes along or starve.
Dickie Peck’s monologue was evidently self-propelled, so Charles gave up providing nods and yesses and grunts of agreement to stimulate it. ‘Now, of course, when you’re talking about an artist of Christopher Milton’s calibre, you want to be sure that all the work he does is done in the right atmosphere, that he works with people who he gets on with, people who are sympathetic to what he’s doing.’ Charles pricked up his ears. They were finally getting round to the vetting part of the interview. ‘Because what happens when you get someone with more talent than most people is that you do tend to get jealousy developing. And that doesn’t make for a healthy working atmosphere in a company. Now Christopher Milton is a charming boy, very easy to get along with, but he is a person of considerable genius and he does have strong ideas. Now because of his great sense of theatre his ideas are very often right. And obviously in the context of a show being rehearsed under pressure, too many arguments over the way things are done can only be counterproductive. Do you see what I mean?’
He leant back, nursing another two inches of cigar ash. This time a response was definitely needed.
And it was not an easy one to give. Oh yes, Charles knew what Dickie Peck meant. Through all the verbiage, the message was quite clear — if you want this job, you will have to undertake to do as Christopher Milton says. He’s not the director of the show, but his word is law, and if you don’t like the sound of that, remember he has an Approval of Casting clause and the world is full of unemployed actors.
Under normal circumstances Charles liked to think he’d tell the agent to stuff his job and walk out. But these weren’t normal circumstances. He tried to conciliate his conscience. Gerald had offered him the job, and Gerald was a friend. It wouldn’t do to let him down. Anyway, it wasn’t really an acting job. He was being infiltrated into the company as an investigator of sabotage. Yes, it was quite legitimate for him to accept the conditions; it would only raise suspicion if he didn’t. But as he replied, he knew that his real motive was the tax bill lying on the table in his room in Hereford Road. ‘Yes, I fully understand, Mr Peck. I know that Christopher Milton owns the rights of the show and so obviously he will be deeply concerned in all aspects of the production, and I’m sure I will respect his ideas.’
Dickie Peck looked at him suspiciously, but evidently decided to take the reply at face value. ‘Good, fine. Well, we have Mr Venables’ word as to your suitability for the part…’ Then, just as Gerald had done, he gave a token nod to actor’s pride. ‘And of course I know your work. I have a script of the show here. Did Mr Venables tell you about the tour and the length of contract?’
‘Yes.’
‘Fine. Well, good luck.’
‘Thank you. There is just one thing…’
‘Oh yes, of course, money.’
‘Yes. Look, I’ll give you my agent’s number. He deals with all that.’
‘Fine. Will I catch him there now? I’d like to get this sorted out today. And it’s after half past five now.’
‘Maurice’ll be there. He works from home anyway.’
‘Fine. I’ll give him a buzz.’
‘Well, thank you very much, Mr Peck. I hope that show’s going to be a great success.’
‘With Christopher Milton in it it’s bound to be. That boy is what stardom’s all about. Oh yes, it’ll be a big success. And if anyone tries to stop it being a success, there’ll be hell to pay. Christopher Milton is going right to the top and no one is going to get in his way.’
He said the last words with a fierce, almost religious, intensity.
Charles pressed twopence into the coin-box when he heard the voice say, ‘Maurice Skellern Artistes’.
‘Maurice.’
‘Who’s calling him?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Maurice, don’t you ever recognise my voice? It’s me — Charles.’
‘Ah well, can’t be too careful in this business. Don’t want to give anything away.’
‘You don’t give much away by answering to your name. Anyway, never mind that. Did Dickie Peck get through to you?’
‘Yes, Charles. Sounds very good, this musical. I think it’s about time you got into that sort of show. I mean, haven’t I been saying for years that you ought to be doing shows that are more… more important?’
‘No. You’ve been saying for years that I ought to be doing shows that are better paid.’
‘Ah, now that’s not fair, Charles. Okay, I’ve always said you should keep out of these fringe capers, this experimental stuff, but I’ve always been thinking primarily of your career, of your artistic development.’
‘That’s very generous of you.’
‘I do my best.’
‘So what am I getting for the current artistic development?’
‘Well, Charles, Dickie Peck was offering, on behalf of the management, twenty-five for rehearsal, forty on tour end sixty for the run and I said you wouldn’t consider it for under forty for rehearsal, eighty on tour and a hundred for the run and I wouldn’t budge from that and that was my final word on the subject.’
‘So?’
‘You’re getting thirty for rehearsal, fifty on tour and eighty for the run.’
‘Oh well, could be worse. Christopher Milton’s in this show. Got any form on him?’ While Maurice Skellern was pretty useless as an agent, he was an invaluable source of theatrical gossip.
‘Nothing much, no. He doesn’t do a lot of work, really.’
‘It’s just that everything he does is massively successful.’
‘Yes, if you look back on his career it’s all award-winning shows. Not a lot, but it’s all been chosen just right.’
‘That’s what having a good agent is about.’
Maurice didn’t seem to notice the edge in the remark. ‘He’s a talented boy, Charles.’
‘Where did he start?’
‘I’m fairly sure he came out of one of the stage schools, but I don’t know which one. Think he may have been a child star in films. Not sure, though.’
‘Know anything of his working reputation?’
‘A bit temperamental, I’ve heard. But that’s third hand. I mean stories like that go around about every big name in the business.’
‘Yes. Is he gay or anything?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Sure not, actually. He married that girl who was in that film… you know.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t.’
‘Oh, the one who played opposite Nigel Thingummy in that… Oh, you know. Name like Elsa or Virginia or — Charlotte Fable, that’s it!’