Late the following day, Rose left New York
with the rest of the Shakespeare troupe. She had helped load the props and equipment
onto the train, always fearful, always watching her back, wondering if Cal was
following her. She had almost led herself to believe that he had forgotten
about her, but the previous night had taught her that nothing could be further
from the truth. She wondered where Alice was, and hoped that Cal had not harmed
her.
The cast and crew of the acting troupe board
the train around six o’clock that night. It was the first New Year’s Eve that
Rose could remember that she had not attended some sort of a celebration, but
she preferred to be on the train, leaving New York behind, than going to a
party. She was too nervous, too frightened to celebrate anyway.
Rose had walked the length and breadth of the
train when she had first boarded, fearing that Cal somehow knew where she was
and was following her. There was no sign of him, but Rose didn’t begin to relax
until the train pulled away from the station and headed out of New York, headed
north toward Boston. She sat at the window, watching anxiously, until New York
had disappeared from view.
Rose spent the evening getting to know her
new fellow actors, feeling a pang of regret as she realized that she had not
taken the time to say good-bye to any of her friends in New York. Robert was
undoubtedly wondering what had happened to her, as were Alice, Frances, and
Norman. She hadn’t even taken the time to leave a note, fearing that Cal would
find it and come after her. She had once again severed her ties as effectively
as if she had died. It was doubtful that she would see any of them again,
although she might send a letter once she felt certain that Cal had no idea
where she was, and was no longer a threat.
Most of the people she would be working with
were friendly, especially the men, who were intrigued by the beautiful new
leading lady. Many of the women were more reserved, especially those who would
have liked her position in the troupe, but one older woman quickly took Rose
under her wing, promising to show her the ropes, and the others were more
friendly after that. Apparently the woman who had taken up Rose’s cause, Ellen
Rosenfeld, was something of the social arbitrator for the troupe, and her
opinion had the force of law. She was one of the original founders of the
company, and had been the leading lady for a good twenty years before she had
decided that it was time to let someone else have a chance. Now in her late
fifties, she still acted with the troupe, and was an acting coach for all of
the newcomers, and sometimes the more experienced actors also sought her
advice.
There were only two holdouts. One of the
women whose hopes of becoming leading lady had been dashed by Rose looked at
her with resentment, avoiding her and making thinly veiled insults when they
were introduced. The others looked at her askance, but Marietta Scott had never
been one to care what others thought, and she was more than a little resentful
of Rose’s position.
The other holdout was the lead actor, Richard
McWilliams. He had been with the troupe for fifteen years, since the age of eighteen,
and considered himself the main draw. He looked at Rose with contempt,
disdaining her because of her lack of experience and her youth. When introduced
to her, he had looked her over slowly, insultingly, and then with a
contemptuous snort had walked away, leaving Rose feeling like dirt under his
heel.
The others had rolled their eyes at the
behavior of Marietta and Richard, explaining to Rose that they often acted this
way, with any of them, and that Marietta was just jealous because she had a
serious interest in Richard and was disappointed that she wouldn’t be leading
across from him. Many also expressed contempt at Richard’s actions toward Rose,
and one teenage girl told Rose to use one of the Shakespearean insults the next
time Richard looked her over. She had demonstrated, showing Rose how to bite
her thumb at him, an insult gleaned from Shakespeare’s most famous play, Romeo
and Juliet. Rose was familiar with the play, but had never thought to
borrow an insult from it.
A few of the younger women looked hopeful
when Richard expressed such contempt for Rose, hoping that this would give them
a better chance with him. Many of them were sweet on him; at least the youngest
ones were. Most of the adult women had learned that there were more important things
than an attractive face, and made no move to try to attract the leading man’s
attention. His contempt for everyone but himself was legendary, and Rose
thought he was one of the most arrogant, egotistical people she had ever met,
excluding perhaps Cal. But Cal was also vicious, unprincipled, and unbalanced,
making Richard look comparatively good.
The troupe reached Boston late that night,
and Rose, under Ellen’s expert tutelage, began rehearsing for her roles,
praying that she would be ready when the plays opened on January twenty-first.