ADVENTURE FOR TWO

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 183, 5 August 1935, Page 15

ADVENTURE FOR TWO

CHAPTER V.—(Continued.)

Teddy Laurie came up beaming and shook hands effusively.

They all to the theatre and Rossiter, in the rather depressing effect of tne fusty little place, became infected with their enthusiasm.

He tried on the yellow and black pierrot costume for which Teddy had given measurements from his memory, and it was acclaimed a success. He sang several songs to them, and one —a topical ekit he had written for an undergraduate revue in Cambridge—was received with wild enthusiasm, and he sang every one of the seven encore verses. "It's good!" eaid Teddy, judiciously, at the end. "Really gcod." "D'you write that song yourself" Sandy demanded, almost in a tone of awe. "I did." "But it's good," he protested. "Thanks very much," smiled Roseiter, or Barney as he had become. "I suppose you couldn't do ue an introductory number?" Teddy suggested. "About us, I mean." "Why not? I shall know you all better by Wednesday." "Fd sing it," Teddy went on, "and each of you could bow differently. Sandy could fall over his chair when he stood up." "Leave the business to me," said Sandy confidently.

Monday and Tuesday were days of strenuous rehearsing and Rossiter, who had rather a high opinion of his own ability, was surprised how much he learnt from Teddy and Sandy. There were, he discovered, a hundred little differences between the professional and the amateur, and by the time the curtain went up on the Wednesday evening he was in a rather chastened mood. Sandy, for example, knew more about stepdancing than Rossiter had ever suspected existed, and when it came to putting the point of a verse over, Teddy left him standing.

But he had revised the words of almost all their songs and added extensively to their repertoire. He had written tho words for many of the songs in the revues they had produced at Cambridge, and was neat and slick at it. Sandy was pathetically grateful to him.

The show started at eight on Wednesday, and they had the usual theatrical high tea at half-past live. Tinned salmon and eggs and cake and cheese and salad. Very sustaining, as Maisie suggested to him with a emile.

The costumes were as new as the new plush seate, and Eossiter had given a touch to tho whole show which is referred to in concert party circles as "originality." The show, indeed, as Sandy insisted, "lifted 'em off their seats," and at tho end Teddy was called upon for a speech. He talked about the original songs they intended to give them, and thanked the audience for its own great part in the success. \ Success! Afterwards he came into the dresfiingroom which Rossiter shared with Sandy. His face was shining with perspiration and grease paint and enthusiasm. "It's a wow!" he announced. "It's two wows!" Sandy amplified. "Look here, you boys. There's no taste in nothing. If we can hold this there's a bonus for you at the end of the season." "That's tho spirit, guv-nor!" said Sandy. "I'm glad you're pleased," said Koseiter. "I was a bit nervous, I'm afraid. But now I feel positively professional." "You didn't look nervous. You were fine! That topical song of yours fair knocked them!" "It did," said Sandy. "It's a much easier audience to amuse than the ones we had at Cambridge. These people came here to bu amused. They weren't particularly critical, I mean."

"Bless 'em!" said Toddy. "Jump about, boys. I'll bet Ma's got something special for us to-night." Rossiter was out first, and waited at. tho stage door. Maisie was next out., and the two walked back to the Rosary together. "It seemed to go all right?" Rossiter suggested. "Indeed it did. Really, I enjoyed myself. After tho first ton minutes it was obvious that things were going splendidly. It does make such a difference. We all get horribly depressed if the show falls flat. It means so much to us!"

"It's all so entirely new to me. Going home like this, I mean, to Ma. And talking to Sandy. Six months ago I sholild have regarded him as rather an unpleasant little outsider, and yet I can seo what a decent chap lie is. I'm becoming educated. I was all wrong about people." "I've got over tho newness. I was with them here all last summer. Pity it only laets four months in the year." "Something'll turn up in the winter, I feel certain. There's the pictures. I know a fellow who's a Producer. And after all, this kind of life is really more amusing than working in an oflice, which would have been my fate, if ...

if things had gone differently." It was a cheery, hilarious meal. Bacon and liver or bacon and eggs, and bottled beer. The ladies drank tea, and Sandy was very funny about their preference. Ma, who had seen the show, fluttered in and out like a delighted hen and retailed scraps of laudatory conversation she had overheard among the audience. Sandy insisted on proposing Barney's health and referred to him as a New Chum. A few months before Rossiter would have disliked anyone who referred to him as chum, either new or old, but the gay, cheery spirit of the Magnets swept aside the distinction between the things which are and which definitely are not done. In the midst of the speech he noticed that Sandy was wearing an old Etonian tie. It merely struck him as funny, and nothing could have showed more clearly the immense change in his outlook. "I seem to recognise that tie you're wearing, Sandy," he said, later in the

evening. "Do you? I thought it was very natty. Two bob from the shop near the clock-tower. Cheap! You oughter get one. So did the Guv'nor."

"It ie natty," said Rossiter, solemnly, and the matter dropped.

They were all tired and began to drift away to bed soon after the meal, but Rossiter decided to stroll along the front before he followed their example.

Ma, too, was going upstairs when he went out.

"I thought of getting a little fresh air, Ma." he said.

"That's all right, Barney," she assured him. "The key of the side door's always kept in the pro's sitting room.

I'll show you. Put it back when you come, in and turn out all the lights excepting the one on the landing." "Right. I shan't be long, Ma." He smiled as he stepped out along the front. A good sort; they were all good sorts. The big difference between these people and those lie had known in the past was their insecurity. The people at Cambridge had been secure; life was easy for them. These lived from hand to mouth. Tho success or failure of the show that night had been tremendously important to them, as Maisie had said. Boiled Cabbage and Dust. The deserted promenade was bathed in pale electric light, and the mournful sighing of the restless sea was an empty, lonely sound. He turned back at the pier. As he did so, ho noticed a big new poster of Teddy Laurie's Magnets, including his own name. Barney Rossiter, Comedian, it alleged. It hit him between the eyes ae he turned. What would Mossford say if it knew? What would Ellen say' And Meriel? And Muriel's mother? Some odd lines flashed into his mind; he endeavoured to place them, but failed. Safe upon the solid rock their ugly houses stand, But you should see my shining palace built upon the sand. That about summed it up. Anyway, he was Barney Rossiter, comedian. And ho was earning—"pulling down" as Sandy had it—six guineas a week with a problematic bonus at the end of the summer. He let himself in by the side door when ho reached The Rosary, and turned out the lights as ma had directed. The whole house was silent as he went up the stairs. It smelt faintly of boiled cabbage and dust. Hie room was on the top floor, and as he passed Sandy's door h<! heard a snore. But from the window of his own room ho looked out over the sea with its mirrored stars. A Drive With Prospects. Success is a splendid tonic, and, within their modest limits, Laurie's Magnets were exceptionally successful. "Magnets" would have been a terrible name for a concert party which failed to draw, but wave after wave of visitors to Westville flowed over their new plush seate and applauded their efforts. Laurie was a perennial beam, and Sandy McDougall had even brighter visions of stardom than usual.

It was inevitable, as the days passed, that Roseiter and Maisie should pair off. They were much younger than the others, and the background of their early lives had been similar—for Maisie had been at a good school. And, moreover, from the first they were attracted to each other. They always walked back to tho Rosary together after the show, frequently to the disappointment of the young men visitors who were hanging about for a chance of speaking to the dainty little dancer.

Aβ Rossiter had assured Ellen, there was no show on Sunday, and on that day ho suggested to Maisie that they should visit Canterbury in the Yellow Peril. The rest of the party saw them off from the steps of the Rosary, and only Rossiter'e "manner" prevented Sandy attempting facetiousness. '"They are dears, really," Maisie said as the car breasted the hill above Weetville. "I've enjoyed the week here. I don't think there's much to it, as Sandy would say—but the experience is going to be valuable. I'vo learnt an awful lot from you pros!" "I learnt a lot from them last summer. But you'll end up as a song writer, Barney, I'm certain." "Does that mean I'm no use ae a comedian V he asked, with a smile. "I don't think you are a great deal. I mean, you're not a lot better than the ordinary pierrot. But you can write extraordinarily neat verses. AVhat do you think of me? You've never told me." He glanced down at her, sitting at his side. She had taken off the beret she was wearing and her soft reddish hair was blown in the wind. "I mean as an artist." she added. "Oh. that," he said with a smile. "Jolly good! You dance beautifully, and you put your songs across very snappily. But you'd go down well, anyway. You're so pleasant to look at—if I may eay so." "You may," she smiled. "And I think it's clever of you to use no make-up when you're off the stage." "But I do!" she laughed. "Anyway, it's not noticeable. Hylda's so painfully obvious. I thought her lips this morning looked awful!" "Most people use lipstick, silly. It just doesn't suit me so I don't. If it did I should follow the fashion. Vivid lips rather kill my hair. I thought it all out; I'm no shrinking violet, Barney, believe me. It's part of my job to look my best. Look at that gorgeous garden! Do you mind going more slowly?" she added, suddenly. "Of course, not. I didn't notice. Nervous ?" 'TSTot in the least. But I do like to see things. We're in no hurry." "None," he agreed, and slowed down. (To be continued daily.)