Jean Plaidy - Goddess of the Green Room

‘I shall never forget what you did for me.’

‘All in a matter of business, my dear. And that’s what you must consider. If you don’t accept this offer now, there might not be another. The profession was never a bed of roses.’

So she saw that she must go. She had been hoping all the time that they would persuade her against this.

Daly! She could not get that sly lecherous face out of her mind. She had in a way enjoyed their encounters in Crow Street; it would be different in Smock Alley where he would be something more than a fellow performer.

In Smock Alley she would be to some extent in his power. On him she would depend for parts and salary.

It was a challenge, but a disturbing one.

Moreover, there was the family to consider.

DALY RECEIVED HER with a mixture of effusiveness and mockery.

So she wanted to come to Smock Alley. He had thought she would. He would pay her three pounds a week as he was paying Kemble only five. What did she think of that?

‘It is what I expect,’ she told him.

‘Then I am delighted to satisfy your expectations. I hope you will satisfy mine.’

‘I have not quite decided whether I wish to come.’

‘Not for a chance to play opposite Kemble for three pounds a week?’

‘Ryder gave me my first chance.’

‘Don’t be an idiot, girl. This is the serious business of the theatre. There’s no room for sentiment.’

‘I happen not to agree.’

‘That’s what I like about you, Dorothy. You always make me convince you.’

‘You have never yet succeeded in convincing me on anything.’

‘That’s to come,’ he promised.

Mrs Daly appeared. He said: ‘My dear, Miss Francis wants to come to Smock Alley.’

‘Of course,’ said Mrs Daly. ‘Crow Street can’t hold out much longer.’

Mrs Daly was a satisfying presence. Daly was not so much in awe of her as of her money and she was wise enough to keep a firm hold on the purse strings which was the only way of keeping a firm hold on Daly.

It will be all right, Dorothy assured herself. There’s always Mrs Daly.

Grace was delighted. What a good move it had been over to Smock Alley! Dorothy was now getting her chance and her reputation had grown considerably.

True to his word Daly had given her some good parts.

Walpole’s successful Gothic novel, The Castle of Otranto, had been dramatized under the title of The Count of Narbonne and it was played with Kemble in the main part and Dorothy as Adelaide, Dublin flocked to see it and theatregoers were all talking of the brilliant young Miss Francis.

One evening when she came offstage flushed with triumph Daly sent for her to come to his office where she found him alone.

‘Well,’ he demanded. ‘Ryder didn’t know how to treat his actresses. It’s not the same with Daly. Grateful?’

‘Grateful indeed for a chance of a good part.’

He put a hand on her shoulder; it was a habit of his to lay his hands on female members of his company when he was near them. Dorothy tried to shrug him off without appearing to do so; but he smiled fully aware of her intentions.

‘You don’t show your gratitude,’ he complained.

‘I have thanked you. What more do you expect?’

‘A great deal more.’

‘What more can an actress give than to play a part well.’

‘There are many parts to be played, Dorothy my dear; and if you wish to succeed you must play them all with skill.’

‘I hope you have some good ones for me,’ she said lightly.

‘Excellent ones, my love. And because you are wise as well as devilishly attractive you will play them magnificently.’

‘I shall do my best; and now I will say good night.’

She had turned, but he was between her and the door.

‘I did not send for you to receive a mild “Thank you for giving me a good part, sir.” ’

‘Then what?’ she said.

He seized her by the shoulders. The strength of the man alarmed her.

‘Kiss me to start with,’ he said.

She turned her face away. ‘The prospect does not enchant me.’

She was bent backwards so violently that she cried out in pain. He laughed and forcibly kissed her lips.

She struggled and tried to grip his hair but she was powerless against him.

She gasped: ‘I hear footsteps. They sound like Mrs Daly’s.’

He held her, listening. Indeed there were footsteps. She was not sure that they were Mrs Daly’s; nor was he; and he could not afford to be unsure. She took her opportunity to throw him off and in a moment she had opened the door and was gone.

She was shaken. It was not unexpected. If it were not for the presence of Mrs Daly in the theatre she would be in real danger.

Her great chance to show her talents had come. Only in Smock Alley could she do so. If she left where could she go? There was nowhere else. To England? Could an actress – unknown in that country – hope to get a chance? She saw penury ahead; the entire family in acute poverty.

She was between that and the unwelcome attentions of Richard Daly. Never had her prospects as an actress been brighter; never had her reputation been in greater danger. In Smock Alley she could be seen by English managers, perhaps even London managers. She must stay in Smock Alley until she had enough fame to carry her elsewhere. And she could only do this if Daly permitted it. But what did keeping his good will entail?

She wanted to discuss this with Grace and Hester, but what was there to discuss? Grace would be terrified; it was the sort of situation which she had always feared, and what advice could she give? It was either leave and start again in the hope of getting employment – and where? – or remain and fight Daly.

There was no point in discussing it. It was a clear-cut case.

The brightest aspect of the affair was the presence of Mrs Daly. Dorothy staked her chances of victory on that lady.

In the office at the Smock Alley Theatre Mr and Mrs Daly were quarrelling.

‘I’ll not have you seducing every female member of the company,’ she declared.

‘Now, my dear, that is an exaggeration.’

‘All right. I’ll not have you seducing one member of the company.’

‘It is nothing. I must keep on friendly terms with the actresses. You know how temperamental they are. One has to flatter them all the time.’

‘You leave the flattering to me.’

‘My dearest, you are the cleverest woman in the world, but you are wrong in this case. I never give a thought to any woman but you.’

‘You’d do well to keep like that.’

He sighed. Without Mrs Daly he could really enjoy life. Business was tolerably good; Kemble was bringing them in and so was Dorothy. He had some good female parts to dispose of and, good business woman that Mrs Daly was, she had not always objected to their going to Dorothy, providing she herself had a better one – or at least as good. She had not put money into this venture to remain out of sight. The Smock Alley Theatre was to make money for them both and fame for herself. It was not asking too much, for even her greatest enemy would agree that she was a good actress.

She had continually to watch Richard; he simply could not leave women alone. Only the other day she had heard the mother of a young Italian Jewess demanding that he stop pressing his attentions on her daughter. ‘What do you want with my daughter?’ she had asked. ‘You have a fine wife of your own.’

It was humiliating and embarrassing; but in her opinion Richard was so attractive that most of the actresses must find him irresistible.

His power to dismiss them was certainly proving effective and it was whispered in the Green Room that there was scarcely a woman in the company who had not yielded to him. There was one, however, who constantly evaded his advances and this exasperated him beyond endurance. Did she think she was such a draw that she could afford to flout him? He was determined to show her that he would not be flouted; and as the days passed he could think of little but Dorothy and was determined to make her his mistress sooner or later.

He pretended to change his tactics, laughingly accepting her refusal to become his secret mistress. The relationship between them was to be manager and actress; and he hoped, he implied, one of friendship. He appreciated her talents, and whenever he could without alienating Mrs Daly he would give her the best parts.

Kemble was one of the greatest actors she had known and it was an education to play with him; it was not that she wanted spectacular parts as much as a chance to learn; Kemble was a good teacher. Delightedly she played Anne to his Richard Ill; she was given Maria in The School for Scandal – not as important a part as Lady Teazle but a good one nevertheless; she was Katharine in The Taming of the Shrew with Kemble a stimulating Petruchio. And she was happier than she had been for some time because she believed that Daly had at last accepted her persistent refusal to accept his advances. She was constantly hearing of the seduction of this and that small player and Mrs Daly’s jealousy. Let them, she thought. It has nothing to do with me. I’m becoming a great actress and one day I shall play comedy all the time and shall succeed in convincing managers that what the public like from me is a song and a dance.

She was certain now that she had done the right thing in coming over to Smock Alley.

One day life changed dramatically. It was after the performance and she was about to return to her lodgings; as she came out into one of the corridors of that warren which was Smock Alley Theatre she heard her name called faintly. She paused. She did not recognize the voice but it sounded like one of the young girl players.