Funny Girl(128)

‘We haven’t,’ said Tony. ‘I know I can speak for everyone here.’

The younger cast members, Tom (aged forty-six) and James (forty-four), might have known everything about the world of online television, but they were on the beach.

‘So … this would be a first for you?’ said Clive.

It had never occurred to any of them that Max didn’t know what he was doing, because he had given every appearance of competence and expertise. Or rather, he had produced money to pay them with, which was the same thing. The old measurements clearly no longer applied.

‘Exactly,’ said Max. ‘That’s why your disappointment scale is no use to me. Ask me about my excitement scale, or my sense of achievement scale, or my self-satisfaction scale.’

‘You’d score pretty highly on that one, I’d imagine,’ said Bill.

‘If I don’t give myself a ten, nobody else will,’ said Max.

Sophie noticed that the retired couple who’d recognized her had come to a decision and were making their way round the tables to say something to them. Sophie smiled welcomingly, but they weren’t looking at her: they made straight for Clive.

‘You are Chief Inspector Jury, aren’t you?’ said the man. ‘I mean, I know you’re not actually Jury, but …’

‘Clive Richardson,’ said Clive. ‘And yes, I played Richard Jury. How nice of you to remember. And how nice to meet you.’

He stood up, and shook hands, and though he resisted the temptation to punch the air in triumph and stick two fingers up at Sophie, she could tell that the urge was there.

‘We loved you in Barbara (and Jim), as well,’ said the woman. ‘We were so sad when you split up.’

‘They’re getting back together,’ said Max. ‘Tonight!’

The couple looked confused.

‘And here’s Barbara!’ said Clive.

Barbara waved.

‘Oh,’ said the woman. ‘Gosh!’

‘They’re opening in a play tonight. From This Day Forward. In the theatre,’ said Max.

‘Oh, we never get up to the West End now,’ said the man. It was 4.45 in the afternoon.

‘Here in Eastbourne,’ said Max patiently.

‘Oh, well then,’ said the man. ‘We’ll look out for it.’

‘You don’t have to look out for it,’ said Max. ‘It’s here already.’

‘Can we find a couple of comps for them?’ said Clive.

They looked uncomfortable.

‘What’s it about?’ said the woman.

‘It’s Barbara and Jim. From the TV series. Getting back together after all these years.’

‘Lovely. And what’s it called again?’

‘Fuck,’ said Max.

For a moment, the man looked as though he were thinking of throwing himself in front of his wife to protect her, but he settled for a consoling squeeze of her arm.

‘Excuse him,’ said Clive. ‘He’s young. It’s called From This Day Forward.’

‘Fucking hell,’ said Max, and this time the couple scuttled off. ‘We’ve got the wrong f*cking title.’

‘I like the title,’ said Bill. ‘I thought it was very clever.’

‘It is,’ said Max. ‘That’s what’s wrong with it. The whole point of the f*cking play is that Barbara and Jim from the TV series Barbara (and Jim) are in it, and we’re not telling the old biddies who might want to go and see it. It should be called Barbara and Jim – The Reunion! With an exclamation mark. I need to call people. Tell the theatre. Get a new poster made. Bollocks.’

He was already on his phone to someone before he got out of the lounge.

‘Well,’ said Sophie. ‘An exclamation mark.’

‘We’ve come full circle,’ said Clive.

‘It’s not funny,’ said Bill.

‘I like it,’ said Tony. ‘Dennis is here with us, in spirit.’

‘It’s still not funny,’ said Bill.

Sometimes Sophie told Dennis what had been going on. It was as close as she ever came to praying. She knew he would always want to hear everything there was to hear about the children and the grandchildren, even though the news was local rather than national, most of the time; he had never been one of those indifferent, mildly benevolent men who wanted their wives to cut out the dull stuff and reduce long telephone conversations with loved ones to headlines. He was usually the one who made the calls, so she felt that the least she could do was tell him everything, in as much detail as she could remember. She’d never had to talk to him about work before; there hadn’t been any since he’d died. He’d be pleased to know that she was doing something.