Lucky Break by Esther Freud Page B

reminded him that the play was in fact the story of a man, a family, two families, a whole court unravelling, and not just a chance for him to play the lead. The first time he opened it, Jemma leant over, and with her finger ran down the list of characters. ‘Only two women,’ she sniffed. ‘If they had to do Shakespeare, why couldn’t they have chosen As You Like It , or The Winter’s Tale ?’ And when Dan didn’t reply, she sighed. ‘Who do you think will get Ophelia?’
    â€˜No idea,’ Dan shrugged. ‘Knowing them, they’ll probably cast Kevin.’
    â€˜And Samantha will get Lords, Attendants, Guards and followers of Laertes. If she’s lucky.’
    Dan was determined to get to Greece, but with the war raging in Bosnia, it was impossible to travel through Yugoslavia by train, and so they used Jemma’s credit card and bought two plane tickets. ‘It’s all right,’ she told him, ‘I’m going to get a job, teaching English to foreign students. There’s a course you can do. And anyway, when you’re a big star, playing Hamlet at the RSC, you can pay me back.’
    â€˜Sure,’ he said, ‘sure,’ but he felt himself grow pale under the mask of his tan.
    Athens, when they finally reached it, was stifling. An almost solid weight of heat pressed down on Dan’s head, and to get away from it, the next morning at dawn they joined a group of tourists in pressed, clean clothes, with sunhats and expensive cameras, and took a bus to the theatre at Epidaurus. They dozed and played cards and looked out at the scorched countryside, until Jemma scrabbled in her bag for Teach Yourself Greek and slid it into her walkman. Dan closed his eyes against the hiss and whirr and found himself instead listening to the woman in front read aloud from her guidebook. The ancient sanctuary of Aeslepios at Epidaurus is a spiritual place worth travelling around the world to visit .
    But not even the guidebook could prepare him for the spectacular grandeur of the amphitheatre when they eventually arrived. It had been dug out of a hillside and its perfect terraces stretched away on three sides, the limestone seating of its steps dazzling in the sun. For a while he simply stared at it, the cicadas whistling, the turquoise sky blazing down, until, mesmerised, he walked to the centre of the circular stage. He noticed as he did so that Jemma had climbed, taking the aisle that led up to the right, ascending nimbly, heading for the promise of shade provided by a scrag of trees at the top.
    â€˜Hello . . .’ he tested out the famous acoustics, ‘can you hear me?’ and he listened for the echo as his voice rose away from him. ‘Hello, hello.’ He imagined himself before an audience of thousands and then, unable to resist, he coughed, glanced around and began:
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    â€˜To be or not to be, that is the question;
    Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
    The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
    Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
    And by opposing end them.’
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    He could see people looking at him, some even choosing seats. He took another breath, his chest opening, his voice powerful and low.
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    â€˜To die, to sleep, no more – and by a sleep to say we end
    The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
    That flesh is heir to.’
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    He paused again and held the silence, cupped against his ear.
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    â€˜Tis a consummation
    Devoutly to be wished.
    To die, to sleep –
    To sleep – perchance to dream.’
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    And then from above Jemma’s voice came floating down.
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    â€˜Â â€™Twas brillig and the slithy toves
    Did gyre and gimble in the wabe,
    All mimsy were the borogroves,
    And the mome wraths outgrabe.’
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    â€˜Come down here,’ Dan shouted to her, high above him in her flowery dress. But she only shouted back.
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    â€˜Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
    The