She kept doing this for a moment and then, quite unforgettably to the people who were there that night, she said quite simply, in control, so that the audience did not laugh, in a voice that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her, I trained to be a school teacher.

*

The play, Lives, ran for almost two hours without an interval. The audience sat forward, entranced, fascinated by the stories of these street people; heard not the clink of glasses from the bar below, nor the underground trains that sometimes rumbled past deep beneath them. At the end, most unusually in a small theatre, they stood as they clapped, one woman was openly weeping as she stood there.

Harry and Frances were incredibly excited for Emmy Lou, she had been staggeringly good even though both of them were very familiar with her work and her way of acting. Milton Werner was impressed too, saw how in its way this was after all something good, like the production they had travelled all the way to Stratford-upon-Avon to see.

They discussed the play enthusiastically in the bar afterwards with Emmy Lou whose face had become, as Frances always noticed with Emmy, almost beautiful as she smiled and accepted compliments from people milling excitedly about. Harry hugged and hugged her; both he and Frances, her closest friends for so long, took genuine generous delight in her success.

‘The National Theatre’s been in,’ Emmy Lou whispered to Harry, ‘Pamela Angel says they’re terribly keen to do it, it’s good for Eurydice isn’t it, oh Harry I never thought I’d say this but if I can join the National and play this part everything will have been worth it, after all.’ Harry hugged her once more, felt as if he could weep for her, for this good time at last.

Izzy Fields appeared at Emmy Lou’s shoulder, clutching a bottle of wine for her. ‘You were wonderful Em,’ she said as she hugged her, ‘wonderful, best thing I’ve ever seen you do. They’re all talking about it at the National I hear.’

‘I know,’ said Emmy Lou, ‘isn’t it wonderful, I would so love to work there,’ didn’t see the little anxious look in Izzy’s eyes.

Izzy’s husband, Peter the school teacher whom she’d known since her days in rep in Salisbury, wasn’t like an actor, he didn’t kiss Emmy Lou but shook her hand up and down enthusiastically. ‘I liked you a lot,’ he said and she smiled.

‘Thanks Peter,’ she said.

They all went to a nearby Italian restaurant, and there too people came up to Emmy Lou, congratulated her. Milton Werner quietly insisted that the evening was on him, ordering good wine, presenting an extra bottle to Emmy. Frances glowed. It was a good evening, one of those evenings actors remember.