Best

Best

"Now, Gilderoy ... what do you do when you go in?"

"I - I have to smile, keep my head up and say my piece nice and loud," an eight-year-old Gilderoy said, counting on his fingers. "But not too loud!" he added hastily.

"Yes." His mother nodded. "We don't want to be embarrassed like the last time, do we?"

Gilderoy shook his head. He looked up at his mother as they waited in the dim, artificially lit room of the talent agency. He was once again wasting his Saturday by being paraded like a show dog in front of hard faced men, and women who looked at each other and gave subtle shakes of their heads before saying thank you, and telling him where the door was. He didn't like it at all. However, he hated to make his mother sad by saying as such when his mother got so excited each time she saw an advertisement wanting child actors.

Her face was as lined as ever. Her fading blonde hair was escaping from her bun and the veins on her hands had started to become more prominent. When Gilderoy held his mother's hand, it felt as delicate as tissue paper and reminded him of Nana.

Nana had told him that his mother was very beautiful once. She'd even shown him an old black and white photograph of her when she was a dancer for a famous theatre company. She had travelled with them for a few years before he had been born.

She wore a light coloured dress and her hair was smooth and fair, which was very different from the tired straw look it had now. Her head was tilted and she was smiling. But it wasn't the kind of smile she wore whenever they met important people that might represent her son. It was an easy smile, almost as if she wasn't even aware of doing it.

It didn't move like the ones daddy used to show him, and for Gilderoy that made it more beautiful. A frozen form of his mother - beautiful and smiling. Her smile would never falter nor would she get tired and lean against the edge of the paper in boredom. Her eyes would always shine and glance towards the unknown person behind the camera.

The door opened, and his mother sprung up like a jack-in-the-box and put on a too wide smile. The young man looked up from his clipboard and said, "Gilderoy Lockhart?"

"Yes, that's us," Mrs Lockhart gushed, grabbing Gilderoy's hand and pulling him to his feet.

"That's an - interesting name," the young man said, looking at Gilderoy who shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He shook Mrs Lockhart's hand and then held it towards Gilderoy who hesitantly took it. It felt soft, fleshy and cool like a dog's muzzle.

"You would be too young to remember," Mrs Lockhart said, her smile spreading even wider so that it showed the lipstick stain on her front teeth. "I was the leading lady for the Harlequins Theatre Company for nearly twenty years. Travelled the world ..."

"I'm sorry, I don't recognise the name," the young man said, looking at his watch. "If you'd like to come with me, Gilderoy..." he added as he ticked something off on his clipboard.

Gilderoy glanced nervously up at his hurt mother's face, looking for reassurance. She straightened her features and gave him a shaky, encouraging smile.

"I'll be waiting right here for you, my love. Make me proud."

With a stomach that felt like water, Gilderoy could only nod. He followed the man through the door and into a room where a woman sat behind a table. She smiled at him, her eyes flicking over his blonde hair and large blue eyes and she said softly, "Hello Gilderoy. What have you come to read for us?"

Gilderoy felt the man's hand between his shoulders, gently urging him to the front of the room. He walked forward until he was a few feet from the desk, remembering what his mother had said about not standing too close or too far away.

Then he remembered that he should be smiling. He immediately turned the corners of his mouth up and stood up as straight as he could.

"I'd like to read a passage from a play called 'Once more, for me'," he said clearly. The man and woman cast searching looks at each other, before the man looked at Gilderoy and said, "We're not familiar with that one, Gilderoy. Perhaps we'll recognise it when we hear some." The man smiled. "You may start when you are ready."

Gilderoy began to read a passage from the play his mother had starred in when she was younger. He made sure he stood up straight and used his entire body to express himself, not just his face, like his mother had told him countless times. He even put in the dramatic pauses, which he had never bothered to before. He didn't speak too fast or too slowly, since the almost constant coaching from his mother had conditioned him into not doing so.

When he finished, he felt that despite never wanting to be an actor, he had done his best. Surely, they would nod their heads this time? His mind was buzzing as he tried to interpret their stony expressions and glances.

The man and woman's heads were close together in muted discussion for a few moments. When they finally sat up straight Gilderoy held his breath. The man looked at him and said, "I'm sorry Gilderoy but not this time."

A faint ringing began in Gilderoy's ears. His mother would know. He knew that she always stood with her ear to the door, listening and evaluating his performance. What would she say knowing that he had failed her again?

"Thank you for coming, Gilderoy," the young woman's voice said next to him. He looked up at her and she was smiling and holding the door open for him. He numbly stepped out and faced his mother. She stood stiff and pale-faced with her hands in tight fists.

"What did you do wrong this time, Gilderoy?" she said rigidly.

"Oh, he did nothing wrong, Ms Lockhart." The young woman smiled, putting a hand on Gilderoy's shoulder. "He just wasn't what we were looking for this time. Maybe for the next production ..."

"Come on, Gilderoy, we're going!" Mrs Lockhart said angrily, stepping forward and grabbing her son's hand before slamming her way out of the waiting room. She dragged him down two flights of stairs before she said anything to him.

"One day you'll realise why I do this for you, Gilderoy. I do it for you, not for me. I only want you to be the best you can be and what you can be is an actor. A fine one if you'd only take after me ... just the mention of my name should be enough!"

Gilderoy was frightened. He'd never seen her this bad. Not even when daddy had left had she looked this angry and upset. He hoped daddy would come back soon and say he was sorry for whatever he had done to make mother so upset all the time.

They finally stopped at a bench in the middle of the park. Mrs Lockhart knelt down and looked her son in the eyes for a few moments.

"Gilderoy ... did you do your best?" she asked so quietly Gilderoy almost didn't hear her.

Gilderoy nodded vigorously.

"Yes, I did. I used my body instead of just my face and everything, and I stood up straight and smiled, except for the serious bit, and didn't mumble or anything."

"Then it must've been something to do with the way you look ..." Mrs Lockhart murmured, looking at him critically, which was something he remembered always.

"Listen, Gilderoy. From now on, you must not only be your best but better. However good you think you are, you must try to be even better. Always remember that there is someone better than you out there somewhere, but what you must do, is work hard to be better than even them ... If you think it, you will become it ... do you understand me, my darling?"

Gilderoy didn't, but nodded anyway. Anything to soften the mad look in her eyes and to loosen her vice like grip on his shirtsleeves.

Neither said another word to each other for almost the rest of the day. Gilderoy was glad because he just wanted to sit and be quiet. When his mother called his name and came into his room, he pretended to be asleep.

For hours, he lay and thought about how he could make himself better. Various things flitted through his mind, but nothing gave him the jolt that one feels when a good idea has been found.

However, not long after he found that none of it mattered so much. Just over a year later a woman came to him and told him that his mother was far too ill to look after him anymore, and that he would be staying with his father's brother, Uncle Alfie, since his father could not be found.

Then, one day, things became wonderful when instead of falling down the stairs Gilderoy floated. This made Uncle Alfie happy and say things like - "You'll be all right after all, Gil!"

Then, before he knew it, he was walking into another world. All thoughts of talent agencies and forgotten soliloquies disappeared and were replaced by spells and old books.

Books, Gilderoy understood. Books were something he could be very good at.