Fit for a Queen
by Oonah V
Joslin
‘Have you
done much amateur acting before, Janice?’
Maybe Sylvia
hadn’t emphasised amateur but
Janice took her meaning.
‘I once
toured with the RSC,’ she replied tersely.
‘Really?’
‘Yes. I
understudied for Lady Macbeth, Portia, Titania
and Cleopatra of course.’
‘Could
you suck your tummy in just a bit, darling?’
‘This
thing simply doesn’t fit and it’s never
going to.’
‘I used
the measurements you gave me. It’s a copy of
one worn by Liz Taylor in the film version. Maybe
you’re not exactly Liz Taylor shaped.’
‘And I
suppose you are? Well, you must have done
something wrong because it just doesn’t
bloody fit.’ Janice pulled at the cups.
‘Well
hold your hair on! I’ll see if I can let it
out a bit.’
‘What’s
there to let out, Sylvia? There’s barely
anything there to begin with. How do you let out
a pair of skimpy knickers, a bra and a belt with
beads on? I may not be Liz Taylor but neither are
you Isis Mussenden, dahling! I’m quite
capable of making my own costume if need be.’
‘No-no-no-no-no.
I always do all of the wardrobe and make-up.’
‘And that
brings me to this!’ Janice ripped off the
black wig that Janice had spent ages applying.
‘What is this – this – this
stiflingly hot, dirty MOP supposed to be?’
That’s when the scene turned ugly and the
men arrived to see what the commotion was. The
were in a clinch.
‘Ladies,
ladies!’
It took Mark
Antony, both caesars, Flavius and a couple of
stage hands to separate them. The air was blue
with hieroglyphs. Sylvia screeched. Then Janice
fainted.
‘Get Phil
– he’s a medic,’ said Julius,
fussing over her.
‘Should I
call an ambulance?’ asked Octavian. ‘Shall
I fetch the brandy?’
‘Just give us some space guys and get her
some water,’ said Phil. ‘What happened,
Sylvia?’
‘Nothing.
We argued.’
‘What
about?’
‘Her
costume – it doesn’t fit.’
‘You didn’t
hit her?’
‘NO! We
don’t get on but I wouldn’t hit her.
She just – flipped and then flaked out. She’s
overwrought and emotional and it is the right
size, it’s her that’s getting fat. She’s
right about one thing though. She’s never
going to fit into this Cleopatra costume. I’ll
have to start over which is a real pain in the
asp!’
‘She’s coming round,’ said Phil.
‘Do you know where you are, Janice? Do you
know me?’
‘Phil.
What happened? The costume…’
‘Don’t
worry about the costume. You won’t be
needing it.’
‘You’re
dropping me from the cast?’
‘No
– but I think you may have a change of role,
Janice.’
‘What?
Just because the stupid costume doesn’t fit…’
‘You see?
There she blows!’ said Sylvia.
‘No,
Janice. Because reading all the signs and unless
I’m very mistaken -- you are going to a
mummy!’
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