Бесплатный фрагмент - If anything, I’m in the next room (Book about the Holocaust)

FIRST CHAPTER

WINDSOR, A CITY IN THE SOUTHWEST OF ENGLAND, OUR DAYS, FRIDAY EVENING

— Not bad, not bad! — shouted a short, stocky gentleman of about sixty with carefully combed hair and a well-groomed beard, applauding. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, with a pocket watch chain hanging from his vest button. “I see Mr. Gould has added some interesting twists to the script.” Now the production looks much more dynamic and touching than a month ago.

Hearing the words of Peter Drayson, the theater director, the actors smiled and bowed. Thin, brown-eyed, dark-haired Julie Blunt was about forty, and Chuck Donald, a strong brown-haired man about six feet tall, had recently celebrated his forty-second birthday. But the gray wig and beard he put on for the role of an old man turned him into an elderly man.

“It’s a pity that your director, Andrew Gould, hasn’t been feeling well lately,” Mr. Drayson continued, moving closer to the actors. “He called me in the afternoon and said that he had to miss today’s rehearsal. You should know that I have great respect for him and his work, and I see that he put a lot of effort into this production.

Looking at the thoughtful faces of the actors, the director continued after a short pause:

— But, in my opinion, you still lack acting revelation. You must understand the primary task — to captivate the audience with you, to immerse them in the lives of your characters, to make sure that they are with you on this stage. In this performance, which is staged for the first time, and even based on a book by a young writer, this is especially important.

The room was stuffy, Mr. Drayson once again took a white handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his sweaty forehead and added:

“In our Windsor, with its population of thirty thousand, we rarely indulge theater lovers with premieres, and the unconvincing presentation of the play can alienate the already few spectators. Therefore, haste in this case is not the best adviser.

Julie listened to the director and tried to express her opinion on this matter, but the voice of Mr. Drayson, who was about to complete the thought, forced her to pause.

“That’s why I wouldn’t want anything to interfere with the success of your performance and critics to tear it to smithereens.” You understand that we will have to abandon the production if it fails, but if you manage to captivate the audience with your play, the performance will have a long life.

The actors listened silently, and the director, after a short pause, drew the line:

“Therefore, I recommend that you get together and discuss with Mr. Gould my proposal to postpone the performance for a month.” Additional rehearsals will allow the director to work more carefully on the production, and you will better get used to the role.

Julie, who understood the importance of the premiere for Mr. Gould and the director’s reluctance to move it to a later date, gathered her strength and answered:

— Mr. Drayson, I can assure you that although Mr. Gould is already seventy and has not been feeling well lately, he has everything under control. We are almost ready, over the remaining week we plan to hold several more rehearsals in his presence. I assure you that we will be in great shape for the premiere next Wednesday.

Suddenly something crackled, and the scenery for the performance, weighing several tens of kilograms, almost collapsed onto the stage, then a cry from one of the workers was heard: “Careful!” Mr. Drayson turned his head towards the excited workers who managed to catch the structure in time and said:

— I ask you to be vigilant and act more carefully. The roof and walls of the theater are weak and can crack under strong overloads. Chuck, Julie, you see the conditions we have to work under,” he turned to the actors again. — Look what the walls look like! And all because the performances are staged in half-empty halls and the tickets sold are only enough to pay off bills and pay employees.

Having once again looked at the not very presentable ceiling, the floor with cracks and the walls last painted four years ago, the director continued:

“After we, like dozens of other UK theaters, lost government funding in 2011, we can only rely on patrons and various foundations to continue to stay afloat. We are in despair, for several years we have been trying to get money from the municipality for major renovations of the theater, replacement of outdated stage and lighting equipment, but all in vain. They sent experts, and they issued a conclusion that the building was not in disrepair and repairs could be postponed. You see, they don’t have any extra money in their budget, and now there are other priorities — the construction of the exhibition complex,” Mr. Drayson said sadly. “It’s as if these bureaucrats didn’t see that the plaster was falling off the walls, and the roof of the theater was completely leaky, and heavy rain could flood everything.” I hope that we will be able to get money soon.

Chuck and Julie listened carefully to Mr. Drayson.

“This is one of the reasons why I suggest postponing the performance.” If you have time to prepare well, our theater will receive a successful premiere both from a creative point of view and from a financial point of view, which is important for me. You understand perfectly well that television and the Internet have to some extent pushed theater into the background. If the halls do not fill, we will have to close the new performance as unprofitable, and I would really not like to do that.

The actress tried to convince the theater director not to postpone the premiere:

“I am sure that Mr. Gould’s performance will be a stunning success.” He is a famous director. Over his long creative career, he has released many good works, and the public knows and loves him.

“Today nothing can be predicted, including the reaction of the public. The audience has become more demanding and capricious, and the fact that the director is elderly can play a negative role, Mr. Drayson objected, because people sometimes want to see a fresh look at tragic works. That’s why I’ve been trying lately to give young directors a chance in the hope that they can attract modern audiences.

“Please, let’s wait for the premiere,” Julie exclaimed passionately. “Mr. Gould put a lot of effort into making the performance spectacular, and we will do everything not to let him down.” He believes in the success of this project and was able to infect us with his faith. We are confident that Mr. Gould will be able to do the same with the audience, and they will definitely love this production.

The actors waited with bated breath for the director’s reaction. And he looked at the clock, which already showed a quarter past ten, and after some reflection he concluded:

— Let’s do the following: tomorrow afternoon I will definitely call Mr. Gould and inquire about his health. If he expresses confidence in the success of the production, then the premiere, as planned, will take place next Wednesday… In the meantime, I can give you the main stage, as we agreed, only once a week on Wednesdays, and then you can rehearse here on the small stage. If the performance is a success, we will move other productions and you will get one more day.

— Thank you! We promise you that we will continue rehearsal work and try to show our best side at this premiere, so as not to let our theater, you and Mr. Gould down.

Having wished the actors success, Mr. Drayson headed into the office, and his interlocutors went behind the stage.

“Chuck, did you hear what Mr. Drayson said?” — Julie asked on the way to the dressing rooms. — Our performance may be closed as unprofitable if there are few spectators. It’s sad to realize that art today has faded into the background, and money decides everything…

— I agree with you, Miss Blunt. Today, creativity is gradually moving into the background, giving way to box office receipts. Mr. Drayson understands this and wants to keep up with the times. The theater director is primarily interested in how many tickets have been sold for the performance, and what kind of director it will be — mature and talented or young and fashionable — it doesn’t matter to him,” the actor answered, taking off his wig and gray beard.

“I think Mr. Drayson is overly emotional,” Julie said. “His liberalism and desire to invite more new, as he calls them, “fashionable” directors to work in the theater can have negative consequences. This season, four performances from last year’s repertoire have already closed. If Mr. Gould’s new production flops, he will be yet another director who devoted his entire life to this theater but ended up out of work.

“What can you do, the world is changing, and the viewer has become more selective…” said the actor. “But personally, I don’t want to believe that there won’t be a place here for such a talented person as Mr. Gould.” This, in the end, will greatly damage the reputation of the theater. After all, theater is a sphere of high art, and not an experimental platform for young talents.

— You’re right. But we, for our part, must do everything not to let Mr. Gould down,” Julie Blunt said quietly.

“Yes, a lot will depend on our attitude,” Chuck agreed. “We’ve been rehearsing for five months now, and I believe that in the end we will be able to perform well. Tomorrow afternoon I will call on Mr. Gould and we will discuss the final preparations.

— What else remains to be completed? — asked Julie. — Well, besides the decorations?

— Almost everything is ready. They promised to decorate the scenery tomorrow, the costumes were finished last month. But you know the character of our director, his desire to be precise even in the smallest things. Previously, he was not satisfied with the costumes, and the costume designers had to change the style several times, but now he wants to replace the props that Bill found. Things, in his opinion, do not correspond to that era. Mr. Gould says it’s the details that convey atmosphere and differentiate a professional production from an amateur one. Out of old habit, he plans to pick up suitable inventory himself at the flea market.

“You can understand him in this; modern critics are ready to find fault with every detail, every little thing.

— Julie, I agree with you, but you know about Mr. Gould’s health condition. It’s better for him to lie down for another day than to look for suitable props in the rainy November weather, but he doesn’t want to listen to that,” Chuck said with a heavy sigh.

Julie, who knew the director well, smiled and said decisively:

— This is what Mr. Gould is all about — he completely devotes himself to his favorite work. I’ll go see him tomorrow and try to convince him not to break his bed rest for a few more days.

— Miss Blunt, let’s look at things more optimistically! I hope that this production will be successful, and we will play in it for many years,” summed up her stage partner, approaching the dressing room.

* * *

In her dressing room, Julie sat on a chair opposite the mirror and thought. Then, looking at the clock — half past nine in the evening — she was about to immediately wash off the makeup from her face when there was a knock on the door.

— Who’s there?

— It’s me, Tom.

— Come in. You’re right on schedule. Every Friday with flowers at the dressing room.

The thin boy of about seventeen said nothing to Miss Blunt’s joke. Handing her a delightful bouquet of tulips with delicate white buds, he said:

— These flowers are for you.

— And from whom?.. Although why am I asking? — the actress said smiling. — You still won’t tell. Let me guess. Did the sender wish to remain anonymous?

“You’re right, Miss Blunt, it is,” the messenger answered embarrassedly.

— Miracles. I have been serving in this theater for twenty years, almost every Friday they bring me a beautiful bouquet, and from whom — no one knows! Tom, can you at least hint who this gentleman is who is sending flowers?

“Sorry, Miss Blunt, but I have to go,” said the young man and, saying goodbye, left.

Julie put the bouquet in a vase, admired it and began to wash off her makeup.

* * *

Having washed off her makeup, the actress continued to think about the future production. That evening Miss Blunt did not want to go home, since no one was waiting for her there. But when she heard the cleaning lady slam the door to Chuck’s dressing room, she knew it was time to get ready. Taking the bag and flowers, she left the room.

Dorothy Stevens, an actress of about sixty, walked towards her along the corridor. She was returning after a performance that was on the main stage.

— Hello, Mrs. Stevens. How was your performance today?

“Good evening, Miss Blunt…” the elderly woman answered warmly. — The performance was performed well, but in a half-empty hall. We just had an unpleasant conversation with Mr. Drayson, he is thinking about stopping our production… But let’s not talk about sad things. And how are you doing? How are you feeling before the premiere next week?

“We hope that by Wednesday we will be able to hold a few more rehearsals with Mr. Gould and perform well.” On top of that, I want to audition for the role of Gertrude one last time at the London Globe. I don’t know how I can manage all this.

“I’m sure you’ll succeed,” said the interlocutor. — Our family, what’s up — almost the whole city admires your acting talent and beauty, London directors should definitely pay attention to you.

“Really, you flatter me,” Julie smiled. “When you’re forty, you don’t even want to talk about beauty anymore.” I should have given up dreams of a big stage a long time ago, but I keep knocking on these closed gates.

— When are your auditions?

Julie remembered the bitter experience of her previous auditions in the capital’s theaters and sighed heavily.

— On Monday. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll go see Mr. Gould and try to get some time off for the audition. After all, there’s not much time left before the premiere, I don’t know if he’ll let me go.

Mrs. Stevens, who had her own experience of unsuccessful auditions for various theaters, decided to change the subject so as not to upset Julie:

— How is Mr. Gould doing? I haven’t seen him for a long time. He began to appear in the theater less and less. We live next door and sometimes talk to him. So, Mr. Gould always says that you are his muse, and it is only thanks to you that the performances he staged are successful with the public.

“Mr. Gould is exaggerating,” Julie waved him off.

— Well, what are you talking about! — Dorothy exclaimed. — You played in almost all of his productions, and Mr. Gould chose you for the main role in the new play.

“I was lucky enough to work under his leadership from the very beginning of my career. I graduated from drama school, and when I came here to audition twenty years ago, Mr. Gould immediately approved me for the role.

“He probably saw your talent right away!” — The woman narrowed her eyes and looked slyly at Julie.

— Don’t think. Most likely, he simply took pity on the aspiring actress who was not hired anywhere.

Mrs. Stevens recalled with nostalgia both her first steps in this theater and her acquaintance with the young director Gould, and then said:

“Unfortunately, the theaters have been poorly filled lately, and I would really not like Mr. Gould, like other experienced masters, to have to leave the theater for this reason.” Mr. Drayson is increasingly relying on young people, and I don’t even know how to feel about this.

It was not easy for Julie to hear about the possible resignation of her favorite director, but, gathering her thoughts, she replied:

— Alas, Mrs. Stevens, we live in an era of technological progress, but despite this, Mr. Gould does not lose optimism: even at seventy, he believes that theater is the highest art that will live forever. But if the play fails and Mr. Gould is forced to leave the theater, then I will follow him.

— Julie, let’s not exaggerate before the premiere and put aside pessimism. Mr. Gould is a talented director and perhaps he will be the one who will be able to attract new viewers, and the hall will again be filled, as in the old days.

Dorothy looked at her watch; it was almost ten o’clock in the evening. After a short pause she added:

“I’ll tell you a secret: Mr. Gould, realizing that the theater has no money for advertising, believes so much in the success of the production that he paid for all the posters in the city with you and Chuck from his own pocket. Just please don’t tell anyone that you heard this from me.

“Mr. Gould never ceases to amaze me,” Julie sighed. “This is so typical of him… The theater is his whole life, and in order for this performance to be a success, Mr. Gould will do anything.” He believes that the prime minister will be a great success.

— Unfortunately, I won’t be able to come, we will have rehearsals, but my son and daughter-in-law have already bought tickets to your performance. “I wish you, Chuck and Mr. Gould a successful premiere,” the elderly actress ended the conversation.

Miss Blunt thanked her colleague for the kind words and, saying goodbye, went home. She loved to walk in the late evenings, and even more so in the fall. The weather was no longer so hot, and the leaves rustled pleasantly underfoot.

Stopping at a bakery on the way home, she bought her favorite chocolate croissants. After dinner, Julie, as usual, watched a little TV, checked her email on the Internet and, after reading a book before bed, went to bed.

SECOND CHAPTER

SATURDAY

The next day, despite the rain, Miss Blunt, as planned, headed towards Mr. Gould’s small one-and-a-half-story house in the afternoon. There were many such buildings in the city.

At the door she ran into Chuck; he had already told Mr. Gould about the latest events and preparations for the premiere. Miss Blunt’s colleague said after the greeting that the director was very excited, as he had high hopes for the production.

“There will certainly be success,” said Miss Blunt, said goodbye to Chuck and went into the house.

She took off her shoes, hung her wet raincoat on a hanger and put the umbrella in a specially designated place, after which she headed to Mr. Gould’s spacious office, where he spent most of his time. On the left was a rich library; There was a desk on the right by the window, and opposite the entrance there was a fireplace, next to which there were two armchairs and a small table littered with books and newspapers.

On this Saturday morning, Mr. Gould, as usual, was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace. The thin old gentleman’s head had long been covered with gray hair. He looked carefully at the flames, thinking about something, until he heard Miss Blunt’s voice:

— Good afternoon, Mr. Gould.

When he saw Julie, he smiled and even stood up to hug her.

— You shouldn’t have gotten up…

“Julie, please don’t ever say that again!” A gentleman must stand up in the presence of a lady,” the director replied with a kind smile.

— Mr. Gould, you never cease to amaze me. Even with all the fuss that accompanies the premiere, you do not lose your spirit.

“Sadness is bad,” the director said instructively. — Over my long life, I have understood a lot and learned several lessons, and the most important thing is that you should not be sad and despair. We must enjoy every moment. It’s a pity that this realization comes at an old age.

The owner of the office invited Julie to a soft brown chair that stood closer to the bookshelves. After waiting for Mr. Gould to take the second seat, the actress said:

— You are right, as always, Mr. Gould. My fate is not easy. In early childhood, I was left alone, I was raised by my aunt, I experienced many difficulties, and sometimes I had thoughts of committing suicide, but someone always appeared who helped me overcome the difficult period. Do you know what I call such people?

— How? — asked the director.

— Angels. Yes, yes, exactly angels. Although I am not a religious person, I am convinced that they exist and in human form descend to earth to help people go through trials. Do you believe in angels? Do you believe in God?

Mr. Gould smiled and replied:

— You know, in life you often meet people who, for unknown reasons, try to help, to guide you to something. It doesn’t matter what you call them — angels or something else. Regarding your question about faith in God… I was born into a Jewish family in Poland and, as an infant, I survived the Holocaust with my family. They were thrown by the Nazis into concentration camps and died, but my mother and I remained alive because a Polish family hid us. I don’t remember much from that time,’ Mr. Gould paused, then continued thoughtfully: ‘All my long life, due to the horrific events of the Holocaust, I shunned religion, because I was convinced that God simply did not exist, and man himself I am the master of my own destiny, but now I feel that everything that happens has a plan. As sad as it is to realize this, over the years you realize that you had practically no control over your life, someone was directing you somewhere all the time, you were an actor in a global performance called Life, and who directed this performance — God or some other person? then other forces — I don’t know.

— Why did you take me then, took pity on the aspiring actress? — Julie decided to ask a question that had been tormenting her for a long time.

— No, that would be unprofessional on my part. The director first of all looks at a person, trying to discern his potential, his inner world, and I took you because I thought that you would become a good dramatic actress. And, as you can see, I was right.

— Thank you for giving me the chance. After meeting you, I began to look at many things differently.

Looking at the actress, Mr. Gould remarked:

— Julie, you must understand that theater is not the main thing in your life, you are still young and should try to start a family.

— What are you talking about, Mr. Gould?! — Julie exclaimed. “I’m already forty, and at that age it’s hard to get used to someone.” Besides, you know what men are like now: there are practically no gentlemen like you and Chuck left. You are like a father to me, and Chuck is like a brother.

“You still have a long way to go,” Mr. Gould repeated.

Miss Blunt shook her head sadly.

“I’m completely alone and have never really loved.” All I have is work in the theater. My personal life didn’t work out: I once really liked one guy, he looked after me so beautifully… But shortly before the wedding, he met someone else, left me and married her. Since then I’ve been alone.

Mr. Gould said nothing.

“If it weren’t for you and the theater, I don’t know what would happen to me now…” Julie added.

“You are a wonderful actress and I am grateful to fate that you continue to play in my productions,” said the director. “You could have performed on the best stages in the country, but you stayed here.”

— You know that I asked you for leave many times, went to auditions, but they didn’t take me anywhere.

The director sighed and said:

“I’m tired of telling you that these snobs have absolutely no taste, they understand nothing about the theater.” You are a wonderful dramatic actress, and if they didn’t see this, it means they lack professional skill.

Julie looked at the director and, shyly, said guiltily:

— Mr. Gould, I want to go to London again and try myself in the role of Gertrude in the new Globe production. Honestly, this will be the last attempt.

— Yes, of course, I don’t mind, you are a wonderful artist and deserve to work in the best theaters. When do you want to go? — asked Mr. Gould.

— The audition is on Monday, and if I am approved for the role, then rehearsals will begin in two months, in January.

— I assumed that the auditions would take place after the premiere, but you know the role well, so I don’t mind.

— Thank you! I’ll go early in the morning. The auditions are during the day, and in the evening I will have time to come to the rehearsal.

— We already rehearse a lot, you can easily take one day off.

“I promise you, this is the last time.” If they don’t take me this time, I’ll stop trying. On Monday my fate will be decided.

The director looked at the upset Julie and, trying to cheer her up, said:

— Fates are decided not by some theater directors, but by us ourselves, and if they don’t take you, it’s okay. Life doesn’t end there. You have a wonderful role as Rachel, and you will be able to delight the public for many years to come by performing it. Look at the programs we prepared, Chuck just brought them from the printing house.

Julie picked up the theater program, the main page of which was dedicated to their upcoming performance, looked at it and thoughtfully asked:

— Mr. Gould, are you sure that the performance will be a success? We talked with Mr. Drayson yesterday, he doesn’t quite share your optimism, he suggests taking our time and postponing the premiere for a month so that we can do more rehearsals.

Mr. Gould didn’t quite like the idea and even got out of his chair.

“Peter called me today to inquire about my health, and I assured him that everything would be at the highest level, and there was no need to postpone the premiere.

— And what did he answer you?

— He wished me luck and said that he liked our production more and more. There are a lot of mysteries, unpredictable turns, and the viewer will have a lot to think about.

— By the way, why did you like this particular work so much?

Walking over to the desk littered with papers, Mr. Gould took one of the books and handed it to Julie.

“Last spring, after one of our performances, a young man came up to me and said that he was a writer. I remember being so worried that I had difficulty pronouncing my name. Then he handed me this book with the words: “Read it, it describes a wonderful love story.” I was in a hurry, but I took the manuscript, thanked the author, and we said goodbye.

“Before the production, I had never even heard of this writer,” said Miss Blunt, looking at the colorful cover: “Akiva and Rachel. A story of great love.”

“Just like me at that time…” the director answered and continued: “So.” I put the manuscript on the shelf and completely forgot about it. As you know, I regularly visit bookstores and buy books that I plan to read. That evening I prepared two new volumes, began reading one of them, but the book seemed so uninteresting to me that already on the fifth page I closed it. The second one didn’t impress me either, so I put it aside too. Having rummaged around on the shelf in the hope of finding something new, I came across a forgotten book by that young man. Taking it, I thought: “Apparently, disappointment awaits me here too. It will probably be boring and uninteresting, and I won’t even get to the fifth page.” However, to my surprise, I was so carried away by the plot that I finished reading at five o’clock in the morning with tears in my eyes. This book made such an impression on me that the next day I re-read it and decided to make a theatrical production based on it.

Listening to the director, Miss Blunt continued to leaf through the book, at times reading into one passage or another. Then she asked:

— What, the author writes so well?

“He is still young, and he needs to polish his skills, but the love story of the main characters itself is extremely beautiful. As it turned out later, the novel was written based on historical facts, and the love story itself between Akiva and Rachel took place in Jerusalem about two thousand years ago. It was practically forgotten, but the author managed to breathe a second life into it, he built the plot so competently that empathy for the characters grows and grows until the very climax.

Looking at his interlocutor, who flipped through the book to the end and began to read the afterword, Mr. Gould continued:

— This book is not about religion, as it might seem at first glance. It tells about the transformation of personality and the power of human love, about the role of a woman in the fate of a man. The fact that love can work miracles and even from an ordinary illiterate shepherd, who only began to study the alphabet at the age of forty, can turn out to be one of the great sages of all times. Akiva managed to achieve this only thanks to his loving wife Rachel, who helped and supported her husband throughout the journey. She sent him money so that Akiva would continue to study, although everyone told her to face the truth, leave this shepherd who does not study, but plays with other women. But she believed, no matter what.

After thinking a little, the director added:

“I don’t know if he will be able to write anything more worthy, but he succeeded in this work — he felt the characters.” You know, this is always visible — the writer’s attitude towards the characters. It is certainly readable… sometimes, perhaps not quite clearly, between the lines, but it is readable.

“I agree with you there,” said Julie. — When a writer does not immerse himself in the plot, in the characters, no matter how brilliantly the book is written, you can immediately feel it.

Miss Blunt put the book on the table and looked thoughtfully at the director.

— After some time, I invited him to the theater, and we agreed on the production… That’s all, actually. In the process of working on the production, I made some changes to the script to give it more dynamism, although I tried to bring our performance as close as possible to the original. As for your question about whether the performance will succeed or not, I think it will be either a resounding success or a resounding failure.

“We will try not to let you down,” Julie assured. — Chuck is also doing everything to prepare for the premiere.

“Yes, Chuck works hard,” Mr. Gould agreed. “If it weren’t for him, I don’t know how I would have coped.” He reassured me, saying that almost everything was ready for the premiere, and what remained to be selected from the props — candlesticks, a couple of mugs and other utensils — I myself wanted to buy at a flea market: after all, you need to choose something special, something that will convey the atmosphere of that era, but nothing suitable was found in the warehouse.

— Do you have to do this yourself, could you send someone? — asked Miss Blunt.

— Julie, you know my method of work, I have to control the entire process: from how to properly arrange the light in each act to the purchase of missing equipment. For a good director, in every scene everything should be carefully selected, thought out to the smallest detail, since the smallest detail is part of a big action, and it should not distract the viewer’s attention from the main thing. I learned this from my theater mentors.

— What days is the flea market open?

— Only on weekends — on Saturday and Sunday until four o’clock. “I was going to go in the morning, but my heart just stopped,” the director put his hand to the left side of his chest. “Now he’ll let me go, and I’ll get ready.” Will you join me?

“It’s already three o’clock and you don’t look good today,” Julie said worriedly. “Your face is red, your blood pressure has probably jumped.” You rest, but today I have a day off and have nothing to do with myself. I’ll go get the mugs and antique candlesticks myself, and you, please, try to stay in bed.

The director shared Julie’s fears that if his condition actually worsened, Mr. Drayson would postpone the premiere indefinitely. He decided to heed the request not to leave the house.

— Fine! I might actually better lie down. I’ll now write you a list of the necessary props for the performance, and it is advisable to buy it all today, since tomorrow I plan to hold another rehearsal.

— Tomorrow is a day off!

— I’ll ask Chuck to call the sound engineer, lighting engineer and other workers, I want to go through all the material.

— Fine. I hope that by tomorrow you will feel much better, and if your condition remains the same, then you should remain in bed for a few more days.

“I assure you that I will be completely fine,” Mr. Gould said smiling and added: “There is money on the nightstand.” Take as much as you need.

— I have. Let me buy everything I need, and then you give it to me.

“I don’t understand how you still have anything left from the meager salary you receive in the theater.”

— This is art. We are artists and must be good at our craft,” Julie joked.

— So, take the money and don’t argue with your director! — Mr. Gould pointed to a low old cabinet by the door. “Otherwise, my stress may cause my blood pressure to rise even higher, although, in my opinion, it can’t go any further.”

— You always knew how to work with actors and make them do it the way you wanted.

They laughed.

Miss Blunt went to the flea market, located four blocks from Mr. Gould’s house, admiring the old streets and squares along the way. Approaching the place, Julie saw only two rows where merchants were offering old things, coins and other goods of the same kind. Having purchased everything she needed, she was about to leave the market, but, passing by an elderly woman selling paintings, she stopped. Julie’s attention was drawn to three unrolled, unframed canvases.

She was interested in painting and had long been planning to decorate the walls of her apartment with it. Why not start making your dreams come true now? Julie moved closer to get a better look at the canvases. The woman noticed her interest:

— Hello, miss. Which one did you like? If you take all three, I’ll give you a discount.

But Julie was looking at the canvases so intently that she didn’t even hear her. She slowly looked from one picture to another, studying them. The first, entitled “Bear,” dated 1929, depicts a clear morning in the forest and a bear chasing someone. The second painting, called “Pisces,” captured the day and the sun’s rays passing through the water. Two fish frolicked in the transparent waves. This painting was dated 1932. The third, from 1939, called “Owl,” depicted a sunset. The sun was gradually setting behind the horizon, the dense forest was green, and an owl was sitting on a tree branch…

Having once again carefully examined the paintings, without listening to what their owner was saying, Julie asked:

— Who is author?

Unfolding the picture and squinting, the woman read syllable by syllable: “Josef Schwarz, Mainz.”

— You sell paintings and don’t even know whose they are? — the actress was surprised.

“I’m far from painting, I’m a simple milkmaid…” the woman answered, as if justifying herself. “My father died last month, and when I was sorting out old things in the attic, I saw these pictures. He hid them from the authorities.

— Which authorities?

Ignoring the question, the saleswoman continued:

— He brought them from Germany after the war. There was also a watch and a German officer’s flask. Take these three paintings, the watch and the flask, all for a hundred pounds…

“I don’t need a watch and a flask, especially a German officer,” Julie answered. — I only want these paintings. How much are you asking?

After thinking, the elderly woman said:

— Sixty pounds.

Miss Blunt did not bargain. Having paid the required amount, she rolled up the canvases and carefully placed them in a bag along with her other purchases.

At home after dinner, she repeated the role, and then took out the purchased paintings from the closet. Laying them out on the table and pressing the edges with books to prevent them from curling up again, Julie began to look at the painting with even greater attention. She could not understand why she liked these pictures so much. The earliest one had the inscription: “Mainz, Germany, 1929.” Carefully folding the other two, Julie moved the bear canvas to the center of the table, pressed the books into the corners, and began studying again. The clock showed midnight when Julie, impressed by the picture, went to bed.

MAINZ, GERMANY, NOVEMBER 13, 1929

— Josef, why don’t you dance, but sit and be sad on such an important day for me? Your best friend is getting married today! — said a man of about thirty, patting a friend on the back sitting at one of the tables in a luxurious restaurant.

“Klaus, I’m not in the mood for dancing right now.” “I must have fallen in love,” the thin young man answered thoughtfully.

— What got into you? asked the groom, dressed in an expensive white suit with a red bow tie. — Let’s go have fun!

— I’m quite serious. Tell me please, who is this beautiful girl?

— Which? — not understanding who exactly we were talking about, Klaus asked.

“A slender brunette with big eyes, sitting alone over there,” Josef nodded towards the table against the wall.

Looking in the indicated direction, Klaus saw his young wife’s childhood friend.

— This is Leah. She works as a teacher at school. By the way, she’s Jewish, like you… but you’d better forget about her, since she’s not alone here.

— And with whom?

— With Paul. He must have gone out somewhere. Although he usually doesn’t leave her side for a second. A terrible bore… By the way, they are going to get married soon, so look for other girls to meet. Do you see how many of them there are?

“Tell me about Leah,” Josef asked.

Sitting down next to him, Klaus Nolde poured a glass of water to quench his thirst and at least take a little break from dancing, and said:

— She moved to Mainz with her parents in early childhood, I can also say that she does not like noisy companies and prefers a quiet pastime.

— Who is this Paul?

“I met him at Leah’s twenty-fifth birthday, where Tilda and I were invited back in the spring, and since then I’ve been avoiding him. — Looking around and making sure that none of the guests of the celebration could hear him, Klaus continued: — Paul is a mathematics teacher at the school where Leah works. It is simply impossible to be in his company: he constantly lectures her, finds fault with everything, even the little things. It comes to the point that he teaches how to behave, how to stand, how to sit, even how to pour water into a glass… But since Leah endures all this, it means he suits her. So find yourself another girl. You are unlikely to meet another Leah at a German wedding, but there are plenty of beautiful girls here…

— I want to meet her. I will never forgive myself if I don’t do this… Klaus, my friend, you understand: this girl is exactly my type. Calm, beautiful, gentle, with good manners and also a teacher. She will be a wonderful wife and mother. Do you agree?

— Josef, I now understand why you and I have been friends for so many years. The thing is, we like different girls,’ Klaus smiled. ‘Even at the university, we always chose different ones and never conflicted on this issue. I’ll tell you straight, Leah is not my type: I like more relaxed girls, like Tilda, slender blondes with blue eyes. Well, you understand me…

“No, I don’t understand,” Josef interrupted his friend. “I don’t understand anything now and I can’t think about anything.” All my thoughts are only about her.

— And mine are only about how this will all end as soon as possible, and Tilda and I will be left alone. And if she sees that I have approached another… You know what this could threaten me with.

— That’s what you’ll definitely be in danger of — if Tilda finds out about the affair with that blonde in Hamburg last summer. What was her name? Martha, right? And if you do not fulfill my request right now, then this night you will definitely be left alone, but with yourself.

— Stop blackmailing me with that story! — Klaus muttered dissatisfied. “You know that I was drunk… and if Tilda finds out anything about this, I’ll be in trouble.”

“I give you my word that I will stop — from the very minute you introduce me to Leah.” Please, Klaus, do this for me, I beg you.

— Have you decided to get married? — the friend grinned.

“I don’t know yet, but nothing like this has ever happened to me before.” I feel like I met the girl from my dreams. — Josef rolled his eyes dreamily. “I need to get to know her, and you can help me with this.”

— How?

— You know her! You come up and introduce: “This is Joseph Schwartz, my friend and colleague, also a doctor, he wants to meet you.”

— What if this bore appears? — Klaus asked.

“Then let’s walk by and just say hello.” Do it for the sake of our friendship.

“You always knew how to find compelling arguments,” Klaus sighed, getting up from his chair and gathering his resolve.

“Thank you, friend,” Josef said, stood up, buttoned the top button of his jacket and smoothed his hair.

“Just let me think about how to do it without ruining my relationship with the bore.” — Klaus wrinkled his brow. “If they get married and we become friends as families, then Paul will remind me until he’s old that I introduced you to his fiancée.”

“Don’t worry in advance,” Josef chuckled. “She can change her mind at any moment.”

— Let’s go before I change my mind. “I’ll try to help you, but remember that I’m doing this only for your sake, since you are my best friend, and not because of your vile blackmail,” Klaus emphasized.

They approached Leah and Klaus introduced them to each other. Joseph looked at the girl carefully and, hearing a gentle voice, thought: “Up close, she is even more beautiful, gentle and graceful… She is exactly the one I always dreamed of meeting.”

* * *

Having woken up early, Julie thought for a long time about what she had seen in her dream. She rolled up the canvas and put it on the cabinet in the hallway, deciding that today she would take the canvases to the framing workshop. For this she is ready to part with even the thirty pounds remaining in her wallet.

CHAPTER THREE

SUNDAY

Despite the day off, the actors and other theater workers, at Mr. Gould’s request, unquestioningly agreed to hold an extraordinary rehearsal on Sunday afternoon. Mr. Gould, who began calling everyone on Saturday afternoon about the urgency of moving the rehearsal from Monday to Sunday, referred to his improved health, but Ms. Blunt guessed that it was due to her departure.

On this Sunday afternoon, Julie, as usual, was a little late for the rehearsal, but the first thing she did was run into a framing workshop not far from the theater. Laying out the canvases in front of James Clark, the owner of the workshop, the actress said:

— Good afternoon, Mr. Clark. It’s good that you are open despite the weekend.

“Hello, Miss Blunt,” the older man answered politely. “We are a family business, and extra orders won’t hurt.” How can I help you?

— Can you frame these three paintings?

— Certainly. What color do you prefer?

— Unfortunately, I don’t know anything about painting design. I would like to completely trust your taste. What are your rates?

— Based on the size of this canvas, one frame can cost from seven pounds.

— What do they look like?

“I’ll now bring you several samples that, in my opinion, will harmoniously combine with the colors on these canvases.” And you will choose the ones that you like the most.

Having rolled up the canvases, James Clark headed deeper into the studio and within a minute laid out several samples in front of the actress. Miss Blunt chose the baguette she liked and asked how much it would cost.

“Forty-five pounds to decorate three paintings exactly like this,” Mr. Clarke replied. — You chose one of the most expensive options, it will fit perfectly with these paintings. If it’s expensive, you can choose, for example, these white ones — only seven pounds per painting…

— No, I liked these ones, and the price is not the main thing. I have thirty pounds with me, I can give it to you now, and I will bring the remaining fifteen tomorrow.

“You can pay after finishing the work,” said the master, rolling up the canvases. — Miss Blunt, we have known each other for several years. Although you do not often spoil us with your presence, your posters are always before our eyes.

Mr. Clark pointed to the glass door. Through it, Julie saw a billboard with her and Chuck. In large letters it read: “Akiva and Rachel,” and a little lower, in a smaller font, “A love story that will not leave anyone indifferent.”

“My family and I will definitely come to see you and all the action,” Mr. Clark smiled.

— Come! I promise: you won’t regret it.

— Thank you, we will definitely come.

— How long will it take to complete all the paintings?

— I have other orders. It will take at least two to three days.

Miss Blunt urgently asked the master to finish work on at least one painting by tomorrow evening. Out of respect for the actress, James agreed, and promised to complete work on the other two on Tuesday.

Having thanked the master and handed him thirty pounds, Julie hurried to the exit, but then Mr. Clark asked:

— Which painting should be completed first?

After weighing the pros and cons, the actress chose the oldest one, signed “Mainz, Germany, 1929.”

Julie decided to take a taxi because she was late for rehearsal. Sitting in the back seat, she gave the address and, lulled by the steady movement, fell asleep.

MAINZ, GERMANY, NOVEMBER 13, 1929

“Thank you for agreeing to dance with me,” said Joseph Schwartz, holding the girl’s tender hand in his palm.

“Klaus really asked, and on his wedding day I couldn’t refuse,” answered Leah, who barely reached his shoulders.

“I told Klaus that you are incredibly beautiful and that I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t dance with you.”

Leah was embarrassed and, to change the subject, asked:

— What a beautiful melody, do you know who its author is?

— This is Fryderyk Chopin, Waltz in C sharp minor. This work is sometimes called Waltz number seven, C sharp minor, since it is considered the seventh waltz composed by Chopin.

— Are you that good at music? — the girl looked at Joseph in surprise.

— This is all my mother. She dreamed of me becoming a famous pianist, and even as a child she enrolled me in piano. I had some success, but I quit music school after studying for about five years, which I sometimes regret very much. Of course, I would not become a famous musician, but I could spend long evenings performing such beautiful works for my beloved woman and my children.

— Who is your favorite composer?

— Beethoven. But from now on, Chopin’s seventh waltz will take a special place in my heart,” Josef replied. — Which composer do you prefer, beautiful Leah?

— I really like Johann Strauss. In my opinion, his music is light and airy.

“You have excellent taste,” the young man said, continuing to waltz, and after a pause he continued: “Leah, let me note, you dance beautifully.”

— I did ballet as a child, but then I had to quit.

After a pause, Leah asked:

“Joseph… isn’t that a Jewish name?”

“In your mouth, my name sounds like it has never sounded before.”

— If you don’t want to, you don’t have to answer.

— Yes it is. You and I are of the same nationality, and the fact that we met here today, at a German wedding, is fate.

“In our city, meeting, as you put it, ‘people of our nationality’ is not such a rare occurrence,” the girl smiled. — It’s not for nothing that Mainz is called Jerusalem on the Rhine.

“Let me disagree with you,” Joseph continued, trying to defend his point of view. “You still won’t be able to convince me about the fate of our meeting.” As for Jerusalem am Rhein, everyone interprets it differently. For example, local Jews say that the city has such an informal name because they settled in Mainz at the beginning of the tenth century and founded the largest Jewish community in Germany here, and the Germans believe that this name comes from the fact that the city was the main center of Christianization of the Germans.

— Okay, I won’t argue with you.

“That’s smart of you,” Josef joked awkwardly.

After a short pause he asked:

— How long have you known Tilda?

— I moved here when I was ten. Tilda lived in a neighboring house and helped me get used to the new city, to new people. Since that time we have been friends. How do you know Klaus? Are you working with him?

— We studied at the university together.

— Klaus said that you are a doctor, is that a fiction or true? — the girl asked with interest.

— Yes, I am a doctor, and I dare say, a very good one.

— What kind of doctor are you? A surgeon like Klaus?

— No, I chose a different specialization — dentistry.

— You must have a very interesting job! And I am a simple elementary school teacher.

“There are no simple teachers,” Joseph objected. “This is a very important specialty, since it is teachers who shape the personalities of children.

Looking towards the table, where Paul, already red with rage, was sitting, the girl lowered her head and said quietly:

— Sorry, but I have to go.

— Is it because your boyfriend has returned? — Josef asked gloomily, also looking at Paul.

“I really need to go.”

— Please, let’s at least finish the waltz. I’ve never felt so good.

Looking at the angry Paul, the girl continued the dance. After some silence, Joseph said:

“I hope that you will forgive my frankness, but you and him are absolutely not suitable for each other.”

“I also ask you to forgive me, but I don’t want to discuss this,” Leah answered, turning slightly pale.

“Believe me, you are meant for someone else,” the young man continued.

— And for whom, if not a secret? — she asked sarcastically.

“You are meant for me,” Josef said confidently. “I knew it from the very second I saw you.”

— Please, don’t throw around such words. “I don’t believe in all these stories about love at first sight,” the girl said excitedly. “On top of that, this is all unnecessary, since I’m getting married soon.”

“I’ll bet you a box of chocolates that if you give me a month, I’ll prove that I’m exactly the one you need.”

Smiling faintly, Leah replied:

— Unfortunately, you don’t have a month. After this dance we will stop our communication.

“Then you’ll have to work in extreme conditions,” Josef joked. “In that case, I will try to convince you during this dance.” I hope that after my words you will come to your senses and not commit such a rash act.

— You’re just wasting your time.

— Leah, are you ready to argue or are you chickening out? Only as a decent person, I must warn you that at the university, among other things, I studied psychology.

— Well, let’s try, but it’s all in vain. “I’ve already said that I don’t believe in miracles and I’m getting married soon,” the girl said seriously, deciding to accept the challenge.

Josef collected his thoughts and asked:

— Answer me, and first of all yourself, do you want to spend your whole life next to an unloved person? Live with him, give birth to his children, meet him after work, go to bed and wake up next to him?!

— Why are you saying this? “I’ve already decided everything,” Leah said sadly.

But Joseph was not going to back down and continued:

— I ask you not to do this. Give me a chance to prove that you deserve the best, that you can love and be loved…

The girl became embarrassed and lowered her head. Josef squeezed her hand even tighter and whispered in her ear:

— Leah, my words may seem strange to you, but I don’t want to part with you. I would like this music to last forever.

“Alas, Josef, as you probably know, everything has an end.” Very soon the last chords will sound and we will say goodbye forever.

Joseph did not even think of giving up.

— Leah, please answer me, doesn’t the end of something mean the beginning of a new one? Doesn’t the end of the day mean the beginning of the evening, and the end of the evening the beginning of the night? It is not at all necessary that everything ends for us with this dance. I would like it to serve as the beginning of the next stage of our acquaintance. You know what, after the dance I invite you to take a walk. Let’s get away from everyone and walk through Mainz at night.

Looking again towards Paul, who was seething with anger, Leah replied:

— Thank you for the invitation, but very soon I’m going to leave, and without you. You can invite someone else for a night out: there are a lot of pretty girls here.

“I don’t need anyone but you,” Joseph continued to persist. “If you refuse, then I won’t even look at the other girls at this celebration.” With thoughts of you, I will wait until the end of the wedding, and then I will go home and draw,” the doctor whispered.

— Can you draw? — Leah asked interestedly.

“Yes,” Josef nodded. — At a young age, I attended art clubs and even took private lessons. I had a lot of sketches and sketches, but today, no matter how symbolic it may sound, I want to start my first serious work.

“Since childhood, I dreamed of learning to draw,” admitted Leah, “but I never could.” And what are you going to depict?

— Your dream.

— What? — she asked again. — Did you say “dream”?

— Yes, I saw him last night. I was looking for an interesting story for a long time, and this dream touched me so much that I decided to dedicate my debut to it.

“How interesting…” the girl breathed out.

— In general, I rarely have dreams, especially colorful ones. And I decided to capture today on canvas.

— And what kind of dream is this?

“Oh, it’s a secret, and I’m not going to share it with the girl who so cynically refused to walk with me through the city at night,” Josef said, hoping to interest Leah.

— Well, that’s your right. As you wish.

When the last chords sounded, Josef made another desperate attempt:

— Leah, maybe you will agree to meet me tomorrow evening? I will tell you about the dream and the process of working on the painting…

— No, sorry, I have to go. And the music has already ended.

“I need to see you again,” Josef asked. — Please give me a chance.

“Chances are not given by people, but by the One who sits in Heaven, so if we have a chance, we will meet.”

“And I believe that people decide their own destinies, and if we decide that we want to be together, then no one and nothing can stop us,” Josef said with complete determination to meet with Lei.

— I won’t argue with you.

Saying goodbye and gradually releasing the girl’s tender palm from his, Josef said quietly:

— I am very glad to meet you. This night, while painting a picture, I will only think about you, Leah.

* * *

Arriving at the address, the driver woke up the sleeping passenger. Julie looked at her watch, realized that the rehearsal had already begun, and hurried to the main entrance. Entering the hall, she saw Mr. Gould, from his seat in the auditorium, making comments to Chuck, who was rehearsing a monologue in the absence of his partner. The director wanted to once again convey to the actor his vision of the main character so that Chuck could better get used to the role. He listened to Mr. Gould’s words with due respect, while the theater employees were putting the scenery in order for the first act. The performance consisted of four acts, separated by an intermission.

Mr. Gould was explaining how to arouse greater sympathy, empathy and love from the audience by acting, but he caught the actor’s eye, turned and saw Julie standing at the door. He did not reprimand her, only said: “Change and run to the stage.”

Julie walked into the dressing room, quickly slipped into the robes of a first century AD Jewish woman and walked onto the stage. There already stood a wretched shack with a haystack inside.

When Mr. Gould was sure that everything was in place, he stood up from his chair and asked:

— You are ready?

Julie and Chuck nodded in agreement.

The director said:

— We ask everyone to take their places on the stage… So, if you are ready, then let’s begin.