Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

"He'll hate you when he knows the truth!" Jean's conscience told her. But what began as a gay deception had become a force that ruled her whole life, and days passed while she kept her secret ONLY today I was thinking how different my life would have been, if I had been born one year later! Because then I would have come to New York in the autumn of 1941, instead of in the autumn of 1940. And then, when I passed it, the showroom of Jupiter Motors would have been closed and . . . Well, I wasn't born a year later and I came to New York in 1940 — and with such high hopes! Oh, I knew other girls had come before me — gills just as pretty and just as talented as I was — and that they hadn't become great actresses. I knew that with one part of my mind, but the other part kept saying, "With me, it will be different." It wasn't.. I did all the things hopeful young actresses have always done in New York. I lived in a rooming house in the West Forties. I spent hours every day, making the rounds of the agents' and producers' offices. I sat around in the Walgreen's drugstore, nursing a nickel coke, trying to pick up tips on who was casting. Finally, I got a job. I was cast as a parlor maid in a play which closed after three performances. By that time, it was Spring and the theatrical season was practically over and I was penniless and without a job. If it hadn't been for Kay, I wouldn't even have had the fare back home to Marston. Kay and I had begun rooming together in December. I never knew why she bothered with me, unless it was because I reminded her of 28 herself as she must Have been ten years ago. She was only twentyeight years old, but she always talked to me like a grandmother. She considered herself an "oldtimer" on Broadway. "When you've been around as long as I have — " she'd say and then add quickly, "only I hope you won't be — " When we finally decided there was nothing left for me to do but go back home, Kay was frankly delighted. "You're too sweet to be kicked around in this town," she said. "You'd better go back and marry this Homer, or Horace, or whatever his name is, and raise a lot of fat, healthy babies." "But I don't love Harold!" I sniffled. "If I loved him, I'd give up all this business about being an actress." Kay's eyes softened, suddenly, lost their usual sparkling cynicism. "I wonder if you really would — " she said softly. I knew what she meant. Once, Kay had been in love, but her dreams of becoming a great actress had been too strong. She and her John had quarreled — and parted. Now, he was J. K. Richards, a sort of modern Midas, with his brains and money invested in a dozen enterprises, among them the building and renting of some of the biggest electric signs on Broadway. And she was Kay Coster, an obscure and unsuccessful actress, who had even changed her name so that he would never know how her bright dreams had. been tarnished by reality. "Kay, I'm sorry," I said, putting my arm about her. But she flashed on that glittering, brittle smile of hers and said, "Never pity a dope, honey." She pulled open the closet door and started throwing my dresses at me. "Come on," she ordered, "get your things packed. You're catching that three-thirty bus." There was nothing I wanted to do less. I couldn't help thinking about all the people back home and what RADIO AND TELEVISION MM"1 they would say. I could almost hear them whispering about my "dure. I could even hear them smfnng—sorne of them — about my coming back to marry Harold, after Id discovered I couldn't do better for myself. None of this was true, but I knew 'hey'd never understand. They wouldn't believe that the show I'd wen in had not closed because it wiled, but because the star and the D«ker had had a quarrel. They adcust, lg42 would just smile and go right on believing I was a flop. I could never explain to them that there were hundreds of young girls like me for every small part that came up and that, sometimes, it took years before a young actress ever got a chance to show what she really could do. That was the part that hurt most. I didn't feel that I'd had a real chance. I still believed in myself, in my talent, and it seemed so un The next moment we were shaking hands. Looking into his gray eyes, hearing his deep voice, I could hardly breathe. fair to have to give it up, just because I didn't have enough money. Kay plunked herself down on my suitcase and struggled with the snap. "There!" she said. "You're all ready. Powder your nose and let's go." She chattered gayly, locking the door on our room — the room that was going to be hers alone, now. I could tell she wasn't as cheerful as she tried to sound. I guess she was torn Continued on page 48