Scarlet
The crescendo roar of applause prompted the pale-faced stage hand to leap into action. Grabbing the handle, he tugged at the door separating the dressing room corridor from the stage. He held it open, his eyes lowered. Just in time. Having finished her turn for another evening, Miss Scarlet Carter barged her way off stage in a full-on flounce. “It’s ‘alf bleedin’ empty. Again,” she whined at anyone who’d listen. Miss Scarlet, a diva whose auburn locks and fiery temper matched her name, was...
Historical