| I would give all of my fame for a pot of ale and safety. |
[Aug. 24th, 2009|04:53 pm] |
Who: Geoffrey Tennant, Ellen Fanshaw, and whoever else shows up.
Where: The Moon and Sixpence in Luton, England
When: A day or so after the mighty shopping expedition
Warnings: Language, definitely.
So this is the pub where he was when ... well, whatever happened that he doesn't want to tell her. Or "can't tell her" may be closer to the truth. Whatever it was, it's nothing that would bar them from the Moon and Sixpence, thankfully enough.
It is not the pub she'd known so well back in New Burbage, but there is a basic pub-ness that runs throughout all pubs, even the ones hung about with ferns and intended to attract the American tourists who will complain that their beer isn't cold, will get too drunk, and will go back home to the States bragging that they went to "a real English pub" when they were in the UK.
No piano, dammit. No Cyril to play it, for that matter. No Frank. Of course, no Basil either, though she wouldn't be surprised if the critic for the local paper is lurking around here somewhere. Fucking parasites. Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach. Those who fail at both, criticise.
She takes a drink of her lager. "I never did get to play Cleopatra," she says mournfully, playing it Quiet Tragic Queen for once. "Unless you count that godawful production of the Shaw. Jennison was such a pig. Swanning around thinking he was all that and a bag of chips for staging it as a comedy of manners, when everybody knew it was because they'd run out of filthy lucre and had to recycle the costumes from The Importance of Being Earnest." Another drink. "And that Cleopatra is a schoolgirl. A homicidal schoolgirl who gets all giggly every time Caesar waves Mark Anthony at her. Mark Anthony and his magical healing prick. Who doesn't even show up on stage. Where's the challenge in playing that? There isn't. Every character just swarms around Caesar talking about how fucking wonderful he is."
Ah, well. Geoffrey's heard the story before. She'll just mutter the rest of it into her mug until she gets a refill. |
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