day, dear God, how she hated morning – the room became silent.
Sophia-the-half-size walked into the room in mid-rant and stopped still. She stared at Theodora, glared at the young woman who was wearing her own trademark pale blue dress, famous silver snake armlet, and a version of the long pearl earrings she herself always wore – not genuine though, Sophia could see that at twenty paces. Which would be enough to rip them off the sallow bitch, she supposed, once she’d found out what the fuck was going on.
‘Good morning, Lady.’ Theodora began, leaving just enough pause before ‘lady’ to make everyone in the room wonder how quickly the fight would start.
‘Yes?’
‘Well, not good, exactly,’ and now she stretched her legs out from beneath her body, just managing to hide the wince as the blood flowed painfully back into her limbs. ‘I had a little trouble with the toenails, they’re not as neatly coloured as I’d have liked, I couldn’t quite keep a perfect edge on the henna. I suppose it’s easier for you? Being so much closer to your own feet?’
Sophia blinked, opened her mouth to let out a stunned half-laugh, took in Theodora’s poorly made curls that even now were beginning to fall lank and straight again, and then, planting her hands firmly on her low-slung hips, asked, ‘So who’s the smart-mouthed bitch?’
Theodora, still leaning against the wall, looked Sophia upand down, and answered, ‘You are, of course. But I thought, perhaps, it was time you had an apprentice.’
‘Are you suggesting I’m of an age to have an apprentice?’
Theodora waited, lowered her face just a little, and then looked up again through half-shaded lashes. ‘I’m saying, Miss Sophia, that you must have skills – and tricks – you would like to pass on.’
‘Two or three.’
‘And a half?’
There was a pause, a stifled groan from one of the actors who had to rehearse a scene this morning with Sophia and knew she’d be hell to work with if she was in a bad mood, and then Sophia flung her head back in pleasure, her dark – natural – curls bouncing up and down with the bellows of her laughter. ‘Dear God, I do like a cheeky cunt.’
‘So, Madam …’ Theodora said, rising from the bench and at the same time sinking immediately to her knees, so that at no point did she raise herself above Sophia’s height, ‘I have heard.’
At this, the room erupted in the nervous laughter it had been stifling for twenty minutes, causing the stage manager to run down the dangerous wooden staircase, shouting that they were all late, everyone would be fined if they weren’t careful, and for fuck’s sake, noting Theodora now standing at her full height beside her new mentor, had half-size-Sophia suddenly grown in her night off? And if she had, why in the name of the sainted Helena couldn’t she have grown a little prettier at the same time? Upstairs now. Please. God, are there no hardworking actors in the world any more, must he turn to pagans and Barbarians to fill the stage?
When both Sophia and Theodora rounded on the man and told him to bite his balls, with no care for the consequent fines, the dwarf and the acrobat knew each had made a new friend.
Six
When Theodora told Menander she was too young for the main company, she was not referring to their acting roles. She had no problem imagining herself accepting the applause of a grateful crowd who, released from the shackles of their old and boring actresses, would frantically welcome her advent on their stage. She meant that she was too young to start working as a whore.
The company master Cosmas agreed and left her alone for the first few months, drilling her instead in their famous routines, finding out where she needed more rehearsal, where her skills came in useful on stage. By her twelfth birthday though, Theodora was deemed ready. She had, as Cosmas said to his colleagues, seen plenty of bed-work while in Menander’s company, it was not as if she
Sophia-the-half-size walked into the room in mid-rant and stopped still. She stared at Theodora, glared at the young woman who was wearing her own trademark pale blue dress, famous silver snake armlet, and a version of the long pearl earrings she herself always wore – not genuine though, Sophia could see that at twenty paces. Which would be enough to rip them off the sallow bitch, she supposed, once she’d found out what the fuck was going on.
‘Good morning, Lady.’ Theodora began, leaving just enough pause before ‘lady’ to make everyone in the room wonder how quickly the fight would start.
‘Yes?’
‘Well, not good, exactly,’ and now she stretched her legs out from beneath her body, just managing to hide the wince as the blood flowed painfully back into her limbs. ‘I had a little trouble with the toenails, they’re not as neatly coloured as I’d have liked, I couldn’t quite keep a perfect edge on the henna. I suppose it’s easier for you? Being so much closer to your own feet?’
Sophia blinked, opened her mouth to let out a stunned half-laugh, took in Theodora’s poorly made curls that even now were beginning to fall lank and straight again, and then, planting her hands firmly on her low-slung hips, asked, ‘So who’s the smart-mouthed bitch?’
Theodora, still leaning against the wall, looked Sophia upand down, and answered, ‘You are, of course. But I thought, perhaps, it was time you had an apprentice.’
‘Are you suggesting I’m of an age to have an apprentice?’
Theodora waited, lowered her face just a little, and then looked up again through half-shaded lashes. ‘I’m saying, Miss Sophia, that you must have skills – and tricks – you would like to pass on.’
‘Two or three.’
‘And a half?’
There was a pause, a stifled groan from one of the actors who had to rehearse a scene this morning with Sophia and knew she’d be hell to work with if she was in a bad mood, and then Sophia flung her head back in pleasure, her dark – natural – curls bouncing up and down with the bellows of her laughter. ‘Dear God, I do like a cheeky cunt.’
‘So, Madam …’ Theodora said, rising from the bench and at the same time sinking immediately to her knees, so that at no point did she raise herself above Sophia’s height, ‘I have heard.’
At this, the room erupted in the nervous laughter it had been stifling for twenty minutes, causing the stage manager to run down the dangerous wooden staircase, shouting that they were all late, everyone would be fined if they weren’t careful, and for fuck’s sake, noting Theodora now standing at her full height beside her new mentor, had half-size-Sophia suddenly grown in her night off? And if she had, why in the name of the sainted Helena couldn’t she have grown a little prettier at the same time? Upstairs now. Please. God, are there no hardworking actors in the world any more, must he turn to pagans and Barbarians to fill the stage?
When both Sophia and Theodora rounded on the man and told him to bite his balls, with no care for the consequent fines, the dwarf and the acrobat knew each had made a new friend.
Six
When Theodora told Menander she was too young for the main company, she was not referring to their acting roles. She had no problem imagining herself accepting the applause of a grateful crowd who, released from the shackles of their old and boring actresses, would frantically welcome her advent on their stage. She meant that she was too young to start working as a whore.
The company master Cosmas agreed and left her alone for the first few months, drilling her instead in their famous routines, finding out where she needed more rehearsal, where her skills came in useful on stage. By her twelfth birthday though, Theodora was deemed ready. She had, as Cosmas said to his colleagues, seen plenty of bed-work while in Menander’s company, it was not as if she
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