A Play Demonic (The Queen's Idle Fancy)

Part 9--A Play Demonic (The Queen's Idle Fancy)

Sitting alone and over to one side, opposite the crowded gathering at the front of the theater, and as far away from Kate Denisov as she could get, Leonora Rabkin listened to Martin Belloon’s entire monologue. She attended every audition, yes, but she usually didn’t bother herself with other theater meetings, paperwork-making sessions, the lesser fundraising grabs, and, besides, she loathed both Martin Belloon and the theater’s resident showboating diva—of course Martin’s wife knew this (and it was quite obvious to the rest of the ensemble, but only gossiped about when both women were not present). 

When Carole scolded Kate Denisov, Leonora barely stifled a wretched gleeful laugh. Carole’s glance in Leonora’s direction went unnoticed, and that was a blessing. No one on the island knew of Carole’s unspoken plan to dethrone Denisov as the lead in all of this year’s productions. She’d had enough insolence and kowtowing to last a lifetime.

Earlier that morning, while her husband was going over notes on The Queen’s Idle Fancy, Carole had slipped out of the house. She gave Leonora a call, said, "If you want to compete once more for a role so juicy it’ll be the talk of the arts section for years to come, make sure you don’t miss tonight’s production meeting. Kate will be there."

How did Carole begin to think so badly of the island’s local star? Maybe it was because of the serpentine way Kate always ignored Carole in every situation, even when it was only the three of them gathering for a glass of wine at A’Town Bistro. Kate would direct every thought, question, Martin’s way—never once giving an ounce of thought to Carole’s presence at the table. Of course they exchanged pleasantries, greetings, frosty goodbyes. When Carole brought this up to her husband, he reprimanded her, lightly, saying she shouldn’t let petty jealousy ruin her appearance, add wrinkles. Maybe it was her husband’s incredibly sycophantic praise whenever someone bumped into them shopping at the weekly farmer’s market.

“Kate sparkled playing that Sally Field role from Steel Magnolias. She’s the reason Pete and I buy season tickets, you know, even though we love the other cast members too, every play has been so good!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Martin would reply with a facile grin. Carole would look away. Any talk of Kate’s prowess in her company grew tiresome, and Carole was always looking for someone else to step in and tarnish Kate’s crown, but she’d had to approach Leonora with subtlety—in her mind, Kate was getting a bit long in the tooth. She’d kept these thoughts to herself, as she’d harbored many other dark thoughts from her husband over their marriage. He was a busy man, and busy men didn’t notice much.

“Oh, hello Leonora, I didn’t see you way back in the shadows,” Kate Denisov exclaimed. She was exiting her row in the theater almost at the same time as Leonora and couldn’t resist a jab. “I hope you’ll enjoy the new play. I’ve already heard so much about it.” 

“Is that right?” 

“Some new theater enthusiasts visited with me just last night and they’re the ones who discovered the play while travelling around London’s most cluttered used bookstores, those that deal with lost texts and other antiquities. I can’t wait to read it for myself.”

“As I also cannot wait. If you’ll excuse me, I don’t have a role in this year’s holiday pageant.”

“That’s too bad. I so love your presence on stage.”

“Break a leg,” Leonora said. The next instant she was wishing Denisov would break much more. When she reached the far left wing of the lobby, she was the only witness to Martin Belloon’s reading. He looked crazed. She waited until his final word. He even took a slight (it must be involuntary—the pompous ass) bow. She caught Carole’s petrified stare and stayed in the shadows. When they left, Leonora approached Roger, only wanting to say a quick hello and goodbye.