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By Root 728 0

significant event in Harold’s change of mood, however had probably taken place the previous autumn when we went to New York and Harold gave an enactment – as opposed to a reading – of scenes from six of his full-length plays at the YMHA, on the Upper East Side, a great venue for such things. I noted at the time that his melancholy was much alleviated. Harold: ‘I was especially proud of my women.’ He was right. His Ruth in The Homecoming was a triumph, Anna in Old Times no less so. I sat next to Jeremy Irons, however, fresh from his own triumph as the lover Jerry in the film of Betrayal. I was amused when amid his generally lavish praise, he commented in his precise, elegant voice: ‘I don’t think he got Betrayal quite right though.’ Harold himself, it was fair to say was dissatisfied with his Davies in The Caretaker. ‘I was too ferocious. I didn’t have the charm.’

I believe it was this return to acting, as opposed to simply reading, which prompted Harold to return to the stage the next year. Up till then he remained periodically depressed.

30 June

Harold had a sleepless night over money. It seems awful to me that he, who earns a great deal of money, who has a wife who does all right by most standards, only one grown-up child to support, parents he happily and successfully cares for, two plays in the West End, directing another, a film opening, Turtle Diary, about to play a nine-week season as author/actor in Los Angeles, should have financial worries to keep him up at night.

Harold entered as I wrote this and I read him the sentence. He seized the Diary and wrote in enormous letters: ‘I love you wildly and that is my solace.’ Perhaps everybody nice worries about money – and probably everyone nasty too. It’s just the human condition. It’s odd that Harold worries so much more, for example, than my father, who has never had any, let alone made any.

Later: Harold thinks he has an ulcer or an ulcerette and again talks about money. Then – miraculous to behold! The first night of Sweet Bird of Youth starring Lauren Bacall is a triumphant success and the pain has completely disappeared. Nor is money further discussed. At the first-night party Betty Bacall glitters in a white top, tight white satin trousers, showing off her superb figure; she dances away. Harold too dances away extremely energetically, Hackney style, he says, as usual. I dance away – South Kensington style is probably the right description.

Directing Betty Bacall in Tennessee Williams’ masterpiece was both a rewarding and an entertaining experience despite gloomy prognostications to the contrary. I record that Harold adores Betty and rejects stories of her being difficult with scorn. ‘She’s just professional’ – that’s always a term of praise with Harold where actors are concerned. Bob Gottlieb was the one who got the future of their relationship right, the less talented doom-mongers wrong. Bob had edited her autobiography: Bacall by Bacall. ‘Betty’ he said ‘is a good pal.’ And indeed we formed an enduring friendship with Betty thereafter. When directing I always thought that Harold felt himself to be on the actors’ side because he identified with them; where there were differences it was to do with his perfectionism, his attention to the text, rather than to something more aggressive like natural impatience. Throughout his long career in that sphere, I got used to tributes from those concerned, often said in a slightly surprised voice, to be honest: ‘Harold is so sweet as a director.’

Harold’s decision to take on the part of Deeley in Old Times in the US led to a considerable change in our way of life ten years into our relationship. There had, he said, been a gap of seventeen years since his last foray on to the stage. It arose because Michael Gambon, who had been so wonderful in it – a mixture of bear and big cat with his rugged appearance and extraordinary grace of movement – wasn’t able to go to the States. Throughout rehearsals in the early autumn of 1985 Harold was, I noted, in a remarkably sunny mood, despite the world being in its usual parlous