Lying back gazing out of the taxi window at the trees of Hyde Park fanning out against a rustcoloured sky, Bella tried to keep calm. From now until her first entrance she would be in a nervous sweat, stage fright gripping her by the throat like an animal. She deliberately always cut it fine because it meant that she would be in such a hurry dressing and making-up, she wouldn’t have time to panic.

And yet, ironically, the only time when she felt really secure was when she was on stage, getting inside someone else’s personality.

The taxi reached the theatre at five past seven.

‘Evening, Tom,’ said Bella nervously, scuttling past the man at the door.

He put down his evening paper and glanced at his watch. ‘Just made it, Miss Parkinson. Here’s a letter for you, and there’re some more flowers in your room.’

Not bothering to glance at her letter, Bella bounded upstairs two steps at a time and fell into the dressing-room she shared with her best friend, Rosie Hassell, who played Bianca.

‘Late again,’ said Rosie, who was putting on eye make-up. ‘Roger’s been in once already, gnashing his teeth.’

Bella turned pale. ‘Oh, God, I couldn’t get a taxi,’ she lied, throwing her fur coat on a chair and slipping into an overall.

‘I think Freddie Dixon’s after me,’ said Rosie.

‘You think that about everyone,’ said Bella, slapping greasepaint on her face.

‘I don’t — and, anyway, I’m usually right. I know I am about Freddie.’

Freddie Dixon was the handsome actor playing Cassio. Both Bella and Rosie had fancied him and been slightly piqued because he’d shown no interest in either of them.