Funny Girl

He chuckled.

 

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you’re not her. It wasn’t a very good film and she was hopeless in it. Where are you going anyway?’

 

‘Home.’

 

‘You can’t go home yet. Matt Monro hasn’t even started, has he?’

 

‘Why can’t I go home?’

 

‘Because you should stay and have a drink. I want to know all about you.’

 

‘I’ll bet you do.’

 

She could wrestle with this man, because she wanted nothing from him and she was sick of all men anyway.

 

‘I’m not who you think I am,’ he said.

 

‘I don’t think you’re anybody.’

 

‘I’m very happily married,’ he said.

 

Suddenly there was a smiling, attractive woman by his side. She was a little bit younger than him, but nothing scandalous.

 

‘Here she is,’ said the man. ‘This is my wife.’

 

‘Hello,’ said the woman. She didn’t seem to be angry with Barbara. She just wanted to be introduced.

 

‘I’m Brian Debenham,’ he said. ‘And this is Patsy.’

 

‘Hello,’ said Patsy. ‘You’re so pretty.’

 

Barbara started to imagine what this could be about. A husband and wife trying to pick her up came from somewhere right on the fringes of her imagination. She didn’t even have a word for it.

 

‘I’m trying to persuade her to have a drink with us,’ said Brian.

 

‘I can see why,’ said Patsy, and she looked Barbara up and down. ‘She’s right up your street. She looks like Sabrina.’

 

‘I don’t think she likes it when people say that.’

 

‘I don’t,’ said Barbara. ‘And I don’t like it when a man tries to pick me up while his wife is watching.’

 

That seemed the safest interpretation. If she didn’t have a word for the other thing, she wouldn’t try to accuse them of it. She was definitely going to find out what a soubrette was. For all she knew, they were trying to turn her into one.

 

Brian and Patsy laughed.

 

‘Oh, I’m not trying to pick you up,’ he said. ‘It’s not sex. It’s something even dirtier. I want to make money out of you. I’m a theatrical agent.’

 

Barbara went back to the cloakroom with her coat, and that’s when it all started.

 

 

 

 

 

3

 

 

At Brian’s insistence, she didn’t go back to Derry and Toms.

 

‘I have to give two weeks’ notice.’

 

She had already phoned in sick so that she could visit Brian in his office. She couldn’t take any more time off.

 

‘Why?’

 

‘Why?’

 

‘Yes, why?’

 

‘Because …’ She couldn’t think of a reason, other than that those were the rules. ‘Anyway, how will I pay my rent?’

 

‘I’ll find you work.’

 

‘I need money now.’

 

‘I’ll sub you for a couple of weeks. A month, even. What are you earning, twenty quid a week? I’m not having you turning down work for the sake of eighty quid.’

 

She wasn’t earning anything like twenty pounds a week. She’d only been on twelve since she’d finished her probationary period.

 

‘But what work am I turning down? I’ve never acted in anything in my life.’

 

‘That’s the beauty of it, darling. No experience necessary. No acting necessary, even. I won’t mention Sabrina ever again after this. But you may have noticed that she’s not exactly Dorothy Tutin. Sweetheart, you only have to stand there and people will throw money at me. Some of which I’ll pass on to you. Honestly, it’s the easiest game in the world.’

 

‘Sounds like the oldest game in the world.’

 

‘Don’t be cynical, darling. That’s my job. Listen. Do you know what a soubrette is?’

 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. She was going to find a library the moment she’d left Brian’s office.

 

‘You are the very epitome of a soubrette. And everybody wants them. But really, you don’t even need to do that. People will pay you a lot of money just to be you. Just do what I tell you to do and we’ll all be happy.’

 

‘What are you going to tell me to do?’

 

‘I’m going to tell you to meet people, and these people will tell you to do things. Smile. Walk up and down. Stick your chest or your bottom out. That sort of thing. We’ll have you under contract to a studio in no time. And before you know it, every man under the age of seventy will have a picture of you wearing a bikini on the wall of his potting shed.’

 

‘As long as they let me act, I’ll wear anything they want.’

 

‘Are you telling me you actually want to act?’

 

‘I want to be a comedienne,’ said Barbara. ‘I want to be Lucille Ball.’