By Adrienne Kennedy
A surrealistic intertwining of poser and autobiography set within the theatre international of Sixties London by way of Obie-winning playwrite Adrienne Kennedy.
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Additional info for Deadly Triplets: A Theatre Mystery and Journal (Emergent Literatures)
I stood for an instant gazing at the rear curtain, but I knew Sharpies was gone. They both were gone. I returned to London that night feeling very disappointed. 28 VI The next evening I sat in the dressing room at the Court waiting for James to come off stage. He entered behind me; I watched him in the mirror of the dressing table. It was always strange to see him with the dark wig he wore in the play. He also wore plain black modern pants and shirt that was the costume for Triplets. He looked tired.
We put a big tree in their room downstairs and played endless Christmas songs on their red and blue plastic record player while we ate Hovis bread and butter and drank hot chocolate. That winter James and I continued our walks in the snow. He in a navy blue overcoat from Mr. Fish and I in my fashionable fake fur. Often James would say that with my masses of auburn hair and violet eyes I should be an actress. Even the English poet Adrian Mitchell had written a poem about my eyes.
No, in fact she went to the hospital and came home again but I was not allowed to see her. She was kept in the drawing room on a day bed by the window and cared for by an Irish nurse. " "He came daily. " "I'm not sure but often I could hear her calling me. ' I would run down the stairs and stand outside the drawing room door but the nurse would appear. " "Then suddenly one morning I came downstairs, the drawing room doors were open. I was overjoyed, running 34 across the room, thinking I saw her.