If anything, I’m in the next room (Book about the Holocaust). English edition - Gertcel Davydov

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performance, and what kind of director it will be – mature and talented or young and fashionable – it doesn’t matter to him,” the actor answered, taking off his wig and gray beard.

      “I think Mr. Drayson is overly emotional,” Julie said. “His liberalism and desire to invite more new, as he calls them, “fashionable” directors to work in the theater can have negative consequences. This season, four performances from last year’s repertoire have already closed. If Mr. Gould’s new production flops, he will be yet another director who devoted his entire life to this theater but ended up out of work.

      “What can you do, the world is changing, and the viewer has become more selective…” said the actor. “But personally, I don’t want to believe that there won’t be a place here for such a talented person as Mr. Gould.” This, in the end, will greatly damage the reputation of the theater. After all, theater is a sphere of high art, and not an experimental platform for young talents.

      – You’re right. But we, for our part, must do everything not to let Mr. Gould down,” Julie Blunt said quietly.

      “Yes, a lot will depend on our attitude,” Chuck agreed. “We’ve been rehearsing for five months now, and I believe that in the end we will be able to perform well. Tomorrow afternoon I will call on Mr. Gould and we will discuss the final preparations.

      – What else remains to be completed? – asked Julie. – Well, besides the decorations?

      – Almost everything is ready. They promised to decorate the scenery tomorrow, the costumes were finished last month. But you know the character of our director, his desire to be precise even in the smallest things. Previously, he was not satisfied with the costumes, and the costume designers had to change the style several times, but now he wants to replace the props that Bill found. Things, in his opinion, do not correspond to that era. Mr. Gould says it’s the details that convey atmosphere and differentiate a professional production from an amateur one. Out of old habit, he plans to pick up suitable inventory himself at the flea market.

      “You can understand him in this; modern critics are ready to find fault with every detail, every little thing.

      – Julie, I agree with you, but you know about Mr. Gould’s health condition. It’s better for him to lie down for another day than to look for suitable props in the rainy November weather, but he doesn’t want to listen to that,” Chuck said with a heavy sigh.

      Julie, who knew the director well, smiled and said decisively:

      – This is what Mr. Gould is all about – he completely devotes himself to his favorite work. I’ll go see him tomorrow and try to convince him not to break his bed rest for a few more days.

      – Miss Blunt, let’s look at things more optimistically! I hope that this production will be successful, and we will play in it for many years,” summed up her stage partner, approaching the dressing room.

      * * *

      In her dressing room, Julie sat on a chair opposite the mirror and thought. Then, looking at the clock – half past nine in the evening – she was about to immediately wash off the makeup from her face when there was a knock on the door.

      – Who’s there?

      – It’s me, Tom.

      – Come in. You’re right on schedule. Every Friday with flowers at the dressing room.

      The thin boy of about seventeen said nothing to Miss Blunt’s joke. Handing her a delightful bouquet of tulips with delicate white buds, he said:

      – These flowers are for you.

      – And from whom?.. Although why am I asking? – the actress said smiling. – You still won’t tell. Let me guess. Did the sender wish to remain anonymous?

      “You’re right, Miss Blunt, it is,” the messenger answered embarrassedly.

      – Miracles. I have been serving in this theater for twenty years, almost every Friday they bring me a beautiful bouquet, and from whom – no one knows! Tom, can you at least hint who this gentleman is who is sending flowers?

      “Sorry, Miss Blunt, but I have to go,” said the young man and, saying goodbye, left.

      Julie put the bouquet in a vase, admired it and began to wash off her makeup.

      * * *

      Having washed off her makeup, the actress continued to think about the future production. That evening Miss Blunt did not want to go home, since no one was waiting for her there. But when she heard the cleaning lady slam the door to Chuck’s dressing room, she knew it was time to get ready. Taking the bag and flowers, she left the room.

      Dorothy Stevens, an actress of about sixty, walked towards her along the corridor. She was returning after a performance that was on the main stage.

      – Hello, Mrs. Stevens. How was your performance today?

      “Good evening, Miss Blunt…” the elderly woman answered warmly. – The performance was performed well, but in a half-empty hall. We just had an unpleasant conversation with Mr. Drayson, he is thinking about stopping our production… But let’s not talk about sad things. And how are you doing? How are you feeling before the premiere next week?

      “We hope that by Wednesday we will be able to hold a few more rehearsals with Mr. Gould and perform well.” On top of that, I want to audition for the role of Gertrude one last time at the London Globe. I don’t know how I can manage all this.

      “I’m sure you’ll succeed,” said the interlocutor. – Our family, what’s up – almost the whole city admires your acting talent and beauty, London directors should definitely pay attention to you.

      “Really, you flatter me,” Julie smiled. “When you’re forty, you don’t even want to talk about beauty anymore.” I should have given up dreams of a big stage a long time ago, but I keep knocking on these closed gates.

      – When are your auditions?

      Julie remembered the bitter experience of her previous auditions in the capital’s theaters and sighed heavily.

      – On Monday. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll go see Mr. Gould and try to get some time off for the audition. After all, there’s not much time left before the premiere, I don’t know if he’ll let me go.

      Mrs. Stevens, who had her own experience of unsuccessful auditions for various theaters, decided to change the subject so as not to upset Julie:

      – How is Mr. Gould doing? I haven’t seen him for a long time. He began to appear in the theater less and less. We live next door and sometimes talk to him. So, Mr. Gould always says that you are his muse, and it is only thanks to you that the performances he staged are successful with the public.

      “Mr. Gould is exaggerating,” Julie waved him off.

      – Well, what are you talking about! – Dorothy exclaimed. – You played in almost all of his productions, and Mr. Gould chose you for the main role in the new play.

      “I was lucky enough to work under his leadership from the very beginning of my career. I graduated from drama school, and when I came here to audition twenty years ago, Mr. Gould immediately approved me for the role.

      “He probably saw your talent right away!” – The woman narrowed her eyes and looked slyly at Julie.

      – Don’t think. Most likely, he simply took pity on the aspiring actress who was not hired anywhere.

      Mrs. Stevens recalled with nostalgia both her first steps in this theater and her acquaintance with the young director Gould, and then said:

      “Unfortunately, the theaters have been poorly filled lately, and I would really not like Mr. Gould, like other experienced masters, to have to leave the theater for this reason.” Mr. Drayson is increasingly relying

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