?1,800, he would have been better off selling the envelope to Stanley Gibbons-which was exactly what Nick would have done.
Danny closed the catalog and turned his attention to the only other letter he had received that morning: a booklet and an application form from London University to apply for one of its degree courses. He spent some time considering the various options. He finally turned to the section marked grant applications, aware that if he did honor his promise to Nick and Beth, it was going to mean a considerable change in lifestyle.
Nick's current account was down to ?716, with not a single addition to the entry column since he had been released from prison. He feared his first sacrifice would have to be Molly, in which case the house would soon return to the state he'd found it in when he had first opened the front door.
Danny had avoided calling Mr. Munro for a progress report on his battle with Uncle Hugo for fear it would only prompt another bill. He sat back and thought about the reason he had been willing to take Nick's place. Big Al had convinced him that if he were able to escape, anything was possible. He was, in fact, quickly discovering that a penniless man working on his own was in no position to take on three highly successful professionals, even if they did think he was dead and long forgotten. He thought of the plans he had begun to put in place, starting with tonight's visit to the final performance of
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
DANNY ROSE FROM his place and joined the standing ovation, not least because if he hadn't, he would have been one of the few people in the theater who was still sitting. He had enjoyed the play even more a second time, but that was possibly because he'd now had a chance to read the script.
Sitting in the third row among the family and friends of the cast had only added to his enjoyment. The set designer sat on one side of him, and the wife of the producer on the other. They invited him to join them for a drink in the extended interval. He listened to theater talk, rarely feeling confident enough to offer an opinion. It didn't seem to matter, as they all had unshakable views on everything from Davenport 's performance to why the West End was full of musicals. Danny appeared to have only one thing in common with theater folk: none of them seemed to know what their next job would be.
After Davenport had taken countless curtain calls, the audience slowly made their way out of the theater. As it was a clear night, Danny decided he would walk to the Dorchester. The exercise would do him good, and in any case, he couldn't afford the expense of a cab.
He began to stroll toward Piccadilly Circus, when a voice behind him said, 'Sir Nicholas?' He looked around to see the box office manager hailing him with one hand, while holding a taxi door open with the other. 'If you're going to the party, why don't you join us?'
'Thank you,' said Danny, and climbed in to find two young women sitting on the back seat.
'This is Sir Nicholas Moncrieff,' said the box office manager as he unfolded one of the seats and sat down to face them.
'Nick,' insisted Danny as he sat on the other folding seat.
'Nick, this is my girlfriend Charlotte. She works in props. And this is Katie, who's an understudy. I'm Paul.'
'Which part do you understudy?' Nick asked.
'I stand in for Eve Best, who's been playing Gwendolen.'
'But not tonight,' said Danny.
'No,' admitted Katie, as she crossed her legs. 'In fact, I've only done one performance during the entire run. A matinee when Eve had to fulfill a commitment for the BBC.'
'Isn't that a little frustrating?' asked Danny.
'It sure is, but it beats being out of work.'
'Every understudy lives in hope that they'll be discovered while the lead is indisposed,' said Paul. 'Albert Finney took over from Larry Olivier when he was playing Coriolanus at Stratford, and became a star overnight.'
'Well, it didn't happen the one afternoon I was on stage,' said Katie with feeling. 'What about you, Nick, what do you do?'
Danny didn't reply immediately, partly because no one except his probation officer had ever asked him that question. 'I used to be a soldier,' he said.
'My brother's a soldier,' said Charlotte. 'I'm worried that he might be sent to Iraq. Have you ever served there?'
Danny tried to recall the relevant entries in Nick's diary. 'Twice,' he replied. 'But not recently,' he added.
Katie smiled at Danny as the cab drew up outside the Dorchester. He remembered so well the last young woman who had looked at him that way.
Danny was the last to climb out of the taxi. He heard himself saying, 'Let me get this one,' quite expecting Paul's reply to be
'Thanks, Nick,' said Paul, as he and Charlotte strolled into the hotel. Danny took out his wallet and parted with another ten pounds he could ill afford-one thing was certain, he would be walking home tonight.
Katie hung back and waited for Nick to join her. 'Paul tells me this is the second time you've seen the show,' she said as they made their way into the hotel.
'I came on the off-chance you'd be playing Gwendolen,' said Danny with a grin.
She smiled and kissed his cheek. Something else Danny hadn't experienced for a long time. 'You're sweet, Nick,' she said as she took his hand and led him into the ballroom.
'So what are you hoping to do next?' asked Danny, almost having to shout above the noise of the crowd.
'Three months of rep with the English Touring Company.'
'Understudying again?'
'No, they can't afford understudies on tour. If anyone falls out, the program seller takes your place. So this is going to be my chance to be on stage, and your chance to come and see me.'
'Where will you be performing?' asked Danny.
'Take your choice- Newcastle, Sheffield, Birmingham, Cambridge or Bromley.'
'I think it will have to be Bromley,' said Danny as a waiter offered them champagne.
He looked around the overcrowded room. Everyone seemed to be talking at once. Those that weren't were drinking champagne, while others continually moved from person to person, hoping to impress directors, producers and casting agents in an endless quest to land their next job.
Danny let go of Katie's hand, recalling that, not unlike the out-of-work actors, he had a purpose for being there. He slowly scanned the room in search of Lawrence Davenport, but there was no sign of him. Danny assumed that he would make an entrance later.
'Bored with me already?' asked Katie, grabbing another glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
'No,' said Danny unconvincingly, as a young man joined them.
'Hi, Katie,' he said, kissing her on the cheek. 'Have you got another job lined up or are you resting?'
Danny took a sausage from a passing tray, remembering that he wouldn't be having anything else to eat that night. Once again he looked around the room in search of Davenport. His eyes rested on another man he should have realized might be there that evening. He was standing in the center of the room chatting to a couple of girls who were hanging on his every word. He wasn't as tall as Danny remembered from their last encounter, but then, it had been in an unlit alley, and his only interest had been in saving Bernie's life.
Danny decided to take a closer look. He took a pace toward him, and then another, until he was just a few feet away. Spencer Craig looked straight at him. Danny froze, then realized Craig was looking over his shoulder, probably at another girl.
Danny stared at the man who had killed his best friend and thought he'd got away with it. 'Not while I'm still alive,' said Danny, almost loud enough for Craig to hear. He took another pace forward, emboldened by Craig's lack of interest. Another pace, and a man in Craig's group, who had his back to Danny, instinctively turned around to see who was invading his territory. Danny came face to face with Gerald Payne. He'd put on so much weight since the trial that it was a few seconds before Danny recognized him. Payne turned back, uninterested. Even when he had
