Everybody’s here. Literally everyone. Stay cool, Kelsey, stay cool!
Looking around the lawn for someone to tell – Mirren, Norma, anyone, she was caught off guard by the sudden appearance of a host of fairy children in glittering gossamer costumes skimming across the lawn on bare tiptoes, whispering wickedly in strange tongues, and waving their wands at the revellers. Her camera caught these fairy children too, though a quick look through the images on the screen showed they were a little blurred. She hadn’t had time to adjust the settings for an action shot.
‘Dammit! If I’d had Dad’s camera in my hand, I’d have caught them. I must be better prepared for surprises,’ Kelsey chastised herself under her breath.
‘Well, he-llo! How’s Scotland’s answer to Annie Leibovitz this evening?’ drawled a lascivious voice behind her. She spun round knowing precisely who it came from.
‘Will! Will… what are you wearing?’ She took in his emerald-green costume, the same as the waiters but he’d acquired a matching half-mask from somewhere, and he was holding a tray of champagne glasses. ‘You look like a really camp Zorro. Why are you waitering?’
‘Kick a man while he’s down, woman. After all that bloody rigmarole with the producers I didn’t get the bloody part, and because I didn’t get the part they didn’t pay any of my expenses! So, I’ve resorted to my original plan of surfing the autumn away. Frankly, I need the extra cash. And I don’t want any of the film bods who auditioned me to recognise me. They’re probably here somewhere.’
He set his tray down on the banqueting table, now crowded round with guests. Handing Kelsey a glass of champagne, he grabbed a glass of his own and quickly downed it.
‘Err, should you be drinking that?’ Kelsey asked. As he swallowed the last drops from the raised flute, Kelsey couldn’t help but glance at his open bolero jacket and his tanned, smooth skin beneath. His stomach was deeply muscled and brown.
‘Who gives a shit?’ he shrugged, capturing the last millisecond of Kelsey’s gaze over his torso and smiling slyly. Emboldened, he spoke again.
‘Listen, after you’ve done your turn as a fairy princess tonight, come and meet me up in the treehouse. I’ll save us a bottle of pop.’ He raised his eyebrows and grinned his most winning grin.
Kelsey looked around, worried that someone might have overheard. She was startled to find Peony standing on the other side of the table. She’d been pouring water into a glass but now seemed frozen to the spot and she was glaring daggers at Kelsey. Looking away quickly, Kelsey collected herself. It didn’t feel great being hated by Peony, but she knew she deserved it; she was after all trying to distance herself from her feelings for her boyfriend. She offered Peony a weak smile, but the actress scowled and rushed off in the direction of the yew tree bower.
Kelsey heaved a sigh and turned back to Will only to find he was making his way across the lawn, failing to stop to allow a single guest to take a drink from his tray. Kelsey watched him go and smiled despite herself at his sheer cheek and his terrible skills as a waiter.
Poor Will, he’ll be feeling that audition badly. He got so close. Got to hand it to the guy, though, he doesn’t give up. ‘Meet me in the treehouse’ indeed. He’s too much. She knew, deep down, that she wouldn’t be joining him for a midnight tryst in the treehouse, but she was flattered he’d asked and glad that he’d been true to form to the very last. It struck her that she was still smiling after him and watching him swagger across the lawn helping himself to another glass of champagne. His bravado had kept her laughing all summer and he didn’t really take himself too seriously, it was quite endearing really. She found herself wishing he was staying put in town for the autumn. She really would be all alone as she got to grips with Norma’s office and her plans for a photography studio of her own.
Thoughts of the future had to wait. She had a job to do. She put the champagne glass down on the linen tablecloth and walked away. Just then Kelsey heard a shrill laugh that she recognised as Mirren’s. Peering into a quiet topiaried corner of the garden, Kelsey spotted her friend secreted away with an attractive young actor she recognised from the cast of the Othello. Mirren had a hand on his bicep and they were perilously close to one another. Maybe Mirren hasn’t changed at all. Or maybe she’s out for one last fling before really settling down? Either way, she didn’t want to know. Kelsey thought of sweet, devoted Preston back home with a heavy heart.
Turning her back on the pair she walked off towards the yew tree bower which was ablaze inside with lights. The Midsummer Night’s Dream scene had just begun. She supposed she had to face it at some point, but she’d been dreading saying goodbye to Jonathan. She might never see him again after tonight and she doubted they could keep up their friendship by email or social media. Why prolong the agony of quietly, secretly pining for him?
He was heading off to Canada in a few days and the thought of living on in the town without him all winter made her queasy and weak at the same time. Of course, he’d be back at Christmas, but she’d be heading home to visit her family for the holidays, and yes, he’d be back in February for Love’s Labour’s Lost but she knew she couldn’t see him then either. She didn’t know what was worse, the thought of him leaving, or knowing that he was coming back for another run and bringing Peony with him. She knew that if she didn’t make some serious efforts to avoid him next year she’d have to go through all this pain again. It was so hard to avoid people in a small town like Stratford where everybody knew everyone else, but that’s what she’d have to do, and the sad realisation stung.
It was growing darker by the minute and the strings of twinkling lights all around the garden came into their own, gleaming out in the twilight. There was a large audience crowded around the yew tree bower and Kelsey could just make out Jonathan using Oberon’s English accent as he spoke words of love and reconciliation to Titania. Kelsey bided her time, forcing her brain to record and preserve the lilting cadence of Jonathan’s voice, before politely working her way to the front of the crowd.
‘Excuse me. Sorry,’ she whispered as the final row of spectators parted to let her in.
Raising the camera to her eye, she was greeted by the sight of Peony reclining in the swinging seat which was decked in real ivy, white dog roses, honeysuckle, and the glossy green leaves of enchanter’s nightshade. Jonathan was leaning over Peony and pressing his lips to hers in a slow, languorous kiss. The masochist in Kelsey pressed the shutter button and her camera caught the moment. One for the road, I guess. I suppose that’s as good a reminder as any why I shouldn’t spend the winter mooning over Peony’s boyfriend. Her heart sank deep and heavy.
As Kelsey emerged gloomily from the crush of clapping people, she saw the gala director pacing on the lawn with Mirren by his side.
‘Ah, there she is!’ Mirren called out, pointing to Kelsey. ‘Come on, we’ve got to change, it’s time.’
‘Already?’ Kelsey asked, alarmed. It had been a long, strange evening. Looking at the counter she saw she’d taken nearly three hundred shots on the digital camera alone, and the image of that very last shot was now seared in her memory. She allowed herself one last sigh for Jonathan Hathaway.
‘Ms Anderson? Tableau vivant in twenty minutes,’ called the director to reinforce the need to hurry.
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps’
(Much Ado About Nothing)
Mirren gripped Kelsey’s hand and the pair rushed across the lawn towards the big shed which had been requisitioned as a changing room for performers.
‘You all right?’ she asked with concern in her voice. ‘You’re not still suffering over that Fairy King are you? Oh, come here.’ They had rushed inside the shed doors and Mirren held her arms out wide for Kelsey who willingly stepped in close for a hug. ‘Only half an hour to go then you can leave, OK? It’s almost over,’ Mirren said close to her ear.
Kelsey thought about heading home to her soft bed in her little sanctuary. Then her mind fli
tted to Will. Would he really be waiting in the treehouse for her after the gala? If he did, he was going to be very disappointed. She ought to tell him not to expect her but there was no time now.
‘Right, where’s our costumes?’ Mirren rummaged through the packed clothing rails.
‘Aren’t you leaving after the tableau too?’ Kelsey asked.
‘Erm… maybe,’ Mirren squirmed a little, looking uncomfortable.
‘Oh.’ Kelsey knew exactly what that meant. She’d arranged to meet Othello. She was about to tell Mirren she really, really ought to talk with poor Preston back home and not just jump into bed with some luscious actor, but Mirren was sorting through their costumes and looking agitated. It could wait until after the show.
‘Here’s yours.’ Mirren shoved Kelsey behind the white sheet that had been suspended on a rope across the far end of the shed for making quick changes. ‘Don’t forget your wings,’ she added, before diving behind the makeshift curtain herself.
As the pair slipped out of their party dresses, Mirren asked, ‘I missed the dress rehearsal yesterday. Is there anything I should know?’
‘You didn’t miss much. Titania – Peony I mean, wasn’t even there, but the director showed me where we’re supposed to stand. There’ll be a chaise lounge thingy in the middle of the circle for Peony to recline on, like the queen bee that she is, and we all cluster around her. You and me are at opposite sides of Peony. I’m at her toes; you’re at the head end. Watch out for her crown, it’s very tall and sharp. We hold the lanterns up above her, and we do this.’ Demonstrating the pose they were both to strike required her to stretch her body upwards as though reaching for the stars, holding the lantern at arm’s length, while extending one foot behind for support.
‘Very pretty, Kelse. You look like a ballerina.’
By now, they were in their costumes and appraising themselves in the long mirror that leant against the far wall.
‘And how long do we hold the pose for?’ Mirren looked nervous now.
‘Thirty seconds after the curtain drops. Then it’ll come up again. Just long enough for the crowd to get a peek at us. Any longer and they’ll see me wobbling about on tiptoe.’
‘I didn’t realise this was the evening’s big finish, Kelse. It’s a good job I love you.’
Mirren leaned into the mirror inches from her reflection, wiping off her red lipstick and replacing it with a delicate pink, which she then expertly applied to Kelsey too.
‘I know.’ Kelsey arched an eyebrow. ‘Norma Arden has a lot to answer for.’ She blotted her lips with a tissue and gave her fairy wings a final check. ‘It’s hard to believe the Victorians were so into this kind of thing. Living pictures, I mean. It’s amazing what the aristos got up to before Netflix was invented.’
‘Oh God, I’m nervous,’ said Mirren, wrapping her hands around her bare arms. ‘It’s a long time since we did anything like this, and it’s a far cry from the school drama club panto.’
Kelsey thought how strange it was that she’d never noticed before how, underneath all her bravado, Mirren didn’t have a lot of confidence. She was reminded of Will and his delicate feelings about his acting career.
‘You look amazing, Mirr. Just follow my lead and try to enjoy it. It’ll be over in a flash.’
‘That’s what I’m worried about,’ Mirren joked, rearranging her ample bosom which was threatening to spill out from the delicate costume. It had little more to offer in the way of support than a simple ballet leotard.
‘Tableau Vivant cast assemble,’ called the director’s assistant into the shed where Kelsey and Mirren had been joined by many more fairies, including Peony and the little children Kelsey had seen rushing across the lawn earlier.
‘Positions please,’ the assistant called again.
Every fairy fell into two neat rows as the director bossed and bustled. Kelsey slipped her hand into Mirren’s and offered her a reassuring wink. Mirren smiled back with misty eyes. ‘I’m glad we’re doing this, I’ve really missed you this summer. Listen, you know your hot red-head, Will whatshisname?’
‘Silence please. And… go! Hold your positions all the way to the circle please,’ commanded the assistant as the group filed past into the cool evening air.
‘Never mind, tell you later,’ Mirren fell silent.
The two rows of fairies led by Peony in her glistening crown, who had been glaring at the whispering Mirren and Peony, were flanked by the box-office staff holding up sheets of white voile so no one could get a glimpse of them. They tiptoed in silence the short distance across the lawn and made their way inside the huge round curtain of white velvety material that had been expertly constructed by the technical crew. It hadn’t been there for the dress rehearsal the day before and it was far bigger and sturdier than Kelsey had imagined.
Peony took her place on the chaise longue and was taking care to arrange her long white costume to maximum effect. Her décolleté was painted with shimmering silver and green floral patterns just as it had been for the performance Kelsey had seen at the studio theatre. She really did look breathtaking. Three fairies arranged themselves behind the chaise, and the tiny fairy children draped themselves picturesquely on the flagstones in front.
Kelsey and Mirren were the last to take their positions. Mirren looked beautiful with her wings spread out behind her and her lantern held aloft. She raised herself up onto a tiptoe and assumed an angelic demeanour. Kelsey struck the same pose attempting to mirror Mirren’s posture to achieve a symmetrical affect. The director cast his eye over the group before rearranging the children. He gave everyone an ecstatic thumbs-up, mouthing the words ‘break a leg,’ before leaving the silent scene.
The PA system on the south lawn crackled into life. ‘Esteemed guests. The highlight of this evening’s entertainment is about to commence. Members of various touring companies, including the Oklahoma Renaissance Players, as well as Stratford’s Tinkerbell Ballet Group, will present a tableau vivant in imitation of the golden age of French ballet-theatre.’
Kelsey caught a glimpse of Mirren’s widening eyes and incredulous expression, and the pair burst into giggles.
‘Ssh,’ Peony hissed, with a sharp glare at Kelsey.
Behind Peony’s perfectly poised head, Mirren rolled her eyes dramatically with a wicked grin on her face which made Kelsey smile all the more. The opening in the curtain through which they had passed was being clipped closed behind them. They could hear the expectant chatter of the crowds gathering outside and the musicians shuffling their sheet music on the stands behind the curtain.
‘And… three, two, one,’ someone counted down from outside and a slow, baroque sounding violin began to play a spellbinding melody.
Everyone in the group took a deep breath and exhaled simultaneously, readying themselves for the fall of the curtain. Except someone was moving, suddenly and frantically.
Peony had raised herself to a kneeling position, placing a bare foot upon the ground. Reaching out with one hand she grabbed the ribbon sash around Kelsey’s waist, bringing her face to face with her.
‘Are you proud of yourself?’ Peony hissed through gritted teeth.
The curtain around them began to slowly sink to the ground as Kelsey gasped in shock. Her lantern fell and a loud crack rang out as it hit the stones.
‘What?’ Kelsey gaped, her eyes wide in panic.
‘One minute you’re making eyes at Jonny at a photo shoot and slobbering over him at the pub, the next you’re kissing that tour guide guy outside the theatre. Don’t think I didn’t see you! But I never told Jonny. He doesn’t need any more heartache.’
Shaking her head in confusion and fear, there was nothing Kelsey could do but try to struggle back into her pose. In the last second before the fairy dell scene was fully revealed Peony let go of the sash and settled herself on the chaise again but Kelsey couldn’t regain her balance and tumbled down onto the flagstones at Peony’s feet.
All she could do was pull her delicate costume over
her thighs and shake her hair back over her shoulders. Staying how she had fallen with her forearms flat on the stones and her head and shoulders raised, she fought hard to assume as fairy-like a pose as she could manage in spite of the shock.
What the hell is she playing at? Kelsey’s face blanched from livid pink to bloodless, horrified chalk as her heart pounded wildly.
The curtain continued its slow descent. The crowd began to gasp and raise their phones to capture the scene. There was nothing Kelsey could do but freeze.
A moment of absolute silence fell as the gathered crowds took in the scene: a regal fairy queen at the centre of her majestic court, her underlings all around her. It was a magical sight. There in the still summer air under the full August moon fluttered four hundred years of memories, echoes of every gossamer wing-beat, and changeling child to have graced a stage. The dusky night sky was pierced with tiny stars, each one recalling centuries of dramas performed by the flare of lime lights and tallow candles and bright roving spotlights, a strange and powerful moment of connection between the past and present. But all Kelsey could feel was the burning in her cheeks and shame in her chest.
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