A Series of Murders by Simon Brett Page B

Maurice.’
    â€˜
You
ringing
me
? Good heavens, what’s happened?’
    â€˜Availability check.’
    â€˜Good God, there’s no stopping them at the moment. Is it the National Theatre again? I don’t know, that lot just won’t take no for an answer. Oh, well, I suppose if they
insist
on my giving my Lear, I can’t really say no, can I?’
    â€˜Ha. Ha. You’re in a very chirpy mood this bright Tuesday morning, aren’t you? What’s got into you?’
    â€˜I think it must be employment. I had forgotten how it felt to have things to do in the gaps between sleeping. And now my agent being flooded with availability checks . . .’
    â€˜One’s hardly a flood, Charles.’
    â€˜What about the two you had last Thursday?’
    â€˜What? Oh, yes. Yes, of course, I’d forgotten those.’
    But the pause between the ‘What?’ and the ‘Oh, yes’ had been too long. Maurice had given himself away. As Charles had suspected, the availability checks of the previous week had been pure fabrication.
    â€˜Anyway, who wants to know my availability?’
    â€˜W.E.T.’
    â€˜Hey, how about that? Success breeds success. What is it? Supporting artiste given his own series? New spin-off called
Sergeant Clump Investigates
? Or are they asking me to appear as a well-loved W.E.T. personality on some wacky, tacky game show?’
    He offered these suggestions as jokes, but only partly as jokes. No actor can suppress that secret hope that one day, it really is all going to happen for him.
    â€˜It’s none of that, Charles. It’s still
Stanislas Braid
.’
    â€˜Are they committing themselves to the second series already?’
    â€˜No, they’re adding some extra dates to this series to pick up the episode they lost last week.’
    â€˜Ah, yes. Yes, of course.’ So Ben Docherty had finally given in to the pressures around him. Sippy Stokes was to be erased completely from the series of
Stanislas Braid
. Russell Bentley had had his own way yet again.
    â€˜That’s good news, Maurice. When is it? How’re they doing it?’
    â€˜Just tacking a fortnight on to the end of this series. I mean, that’s assuming everyone can make the dates. As I say, it’s only an availability check at the moment. Presumably, if any regulars are committed elsewhere, they’ll have to rethink. I mean, Russell Bentley’s never out of work, so he might be a problem.’
    â€˜He said he’d definitely make himself available for this. It came up at the read-through yesterday.’
    â€˜Oh, well, it should be all right, then. He’s the one who’s likely to be difficult. I can’t think anyone else is going to have much coming up.’
    Charles cleared his throat. Then he cleared his throat again.
    â€˜What’s up, Charles? Touch of the old laryngitis?’
    â€˜No, Maurice’ came the dignified reply. ‘But isn’t there something you’ve forgotten?’
    â€˜What’s that? Not your birthday, is it?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Wedding anniversary? But I thought since you and Frances weren’t living together anymore, you didn’t –’
    â€˜No, Maurice. Just think. W.E.T. rang you to check my availability?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Well, isn’t there something you haven’t done?’
    The agent was still at a loss. ‘What’s that, then?’
    â€˜Come on, Maurice. You haven’t checked my bloody availability, have you!’
    â€˜What – you mean, I haven’t asked whether you’ll be free for a fortnight at the end of this contract?’
    â€˜Exactly.’
    There was a silence from the other end of the phone. Then it was interrupted by a sound that could have been an asthmatic having an orgasm. Charles recognised that Maurice was laughing.
    â€˜Oh, I’m sorry,’ said the agent when he was sufficiently recovered to