by Tracy Bloom
‘Right.’ Carly nodded. ‘That’s perfectly fine. I’m an all-dayer. Always have been. Gordon used to tell me not to speak until he’d had at least one cup of coffee. If I did start he’d simply hold his hand up and I knew I was driving him nuts already.’
Tom laughed. ‘She’ll be back to normal tonight. If she’s quiet later on then it won’t be you, it’ll be something I’ve done and I’ll have to deploy interrogation tactics worthy of MI5 to get out of her what’s wrong.’
‘Gosh,’ said Carly, flipping down the visor and carefully applying lipstick whilst looking in the mirror. ‘Weird.’
‘It’s what I call marriage. You’ll find out one day.’
‘You’re not making it sound very tempting.’
‘No,’ said Tom, shaking his head, suddenly feeling guilty. ‘Marriage is great. When it’s good it’s the best thing in the world, but sometimes there’s other crap you seem to have to wade through to get to the good bits.’
He bent to turn the radio on, unwilling to continue with the conversation. He quickly flicked from his usual Radio Two to Radio One to avoid embarrassment in front of his younger passenger.
‘So,’ said Carly, flipping the visor back up and dropping her lipstick into her bag. ‘Less than two weeks to get this show ready. That’s kind of scary, hey? I assume you’re in this first rehearsal?
‘Unfortunately yes,’ he replied.
‘Unfortunately?’
‘You’ll see.’ Tom swallowed. He knew he shouldn’t share his feelings on first rehearsals. He knew exactly how it would pan out. Having Carly around had distracted him from his usual early-morning despair at the prospect of going into work. Being reminded that it was first-rehearsal day plunged him back into gloom.
‘So have you thought about whether we’ll tell them or not?’ Carly asked after a few minutes of claustrophobic quiet.
Tom glanced sharply at her. ‘Tell who what?’
‘That we’re living together.’
‘We’re not though really, are we? You’re just staying whilst the show is on.’
‘I know, but it might seem a bit weird if it gets out and we haven’t told anyone.’
Tom knew she was right. If the others in the show got hold of that information there was sure to be drama: he’d be accused of preferential treatment at some stage and it would all end in tears.
‘Let’s just keep it to ourselves for a while, shall we?’ he said. ‘Let’s not complicate things.’
She shrugged. ‘OK.’
‘But I’ll tell Amy,’ Tom said.
‘Is she the scary one from the audition?’
‘Wasn’t I the scary one?’ asked Tom, shooting another brief glance at her.
‘Oh no,’ said Carly. ‘You were a pussy cat. She was a horror story.’
‘Well, I will need to tell the horror story.’
‘You’re the boss,’ Carly replied leaning down to turn the music up to full blast.
‘I’ve just got something to tell you,’ announced Tom as he entered the Celebration Theatre in Back of Beyond World ready for the first rehearsal of Malice in Wonderland. Amy was sitting at a table she’d set up in front of the stage and was laying out photographs of the entertainers coming in for the first time that day. Next to her on the table stood a coffee and a bacon bap ready and waiting for Tom.
‘What would I do without you,’ he said, seizing his mug and sitting down. ‘Christ, it’s bloody freezing in here.’
‘I’ve switched the heating off to acclimatise everyone for when it breaks down,’ said Amy. ‘So what do you need to tell me?’
‘Right, well, do you remember Carly from last week? The one who blew us away and who we picked for Malice Alice?’
Amy nodded mutely.
‘Well,’ said Tom, taking a huge bite out of his bacon bap. ‘She brooved in wid us. Beeded bumware do fray por a pit.’
Amy didn’t reply, just looked at him expectantly.
‘Borry,’ he said, chewing laboriously until his mouth was empty.
‘I said,’ he said, wiping brown sauce off his lips. ‘She’s moved in with us, just so you know. The Cow was full on Friday and she had nowhere to go so I said she could have our spare room and then it seemed to make sense to let her stay until the show is finished; it’s only a month.’
Amy said nothing, just stared back at him.
‘Thought you should be aware of the situation, that’s all,’ he continued. ‘We’re not planning to make it common knowledge, you know what people are like, but we thought you should know.’
Amy nodded again slowly and then stood up, picked up the paper plate with the half-eaten bacon sandwich on it, turned round and, as Tom watched, walked over to the bin and disposed of it. She returned to the table and sat down silently.
‘I hadn’t finished that,’ he said.
‘Sorry,’ replied Amy, writing something down in her notepad.
That was the second time this morning a woman had stolen his half-eaten breakfast and chucked it away. Laura had snatched his bowl from under his nose before he had finished. Women! He coughed and cleared his throat, looking up to check the array of dropouts he had to attempt to get into shape ready for performing in just twelve days followed by two weeks of live performances every day. He stood up with a sinking feeling in his belly. Here we go again, he thought. Where my dreams fail to become reality.
He stood up, banging his mug on the table, spilling half his coffee in the process. Amy leapt to his aid, miraculously producing copious amount of thin white serviettes to mop up the mess. He smiled gratefully at her and then turned to address his expectant audience. He took a deep breath. Might as well give it his all at this stage, he thought as he surveyed a sea of over thirty faces. Most of them were new but there was also a handful of old faithfuls who were employed throughout the season to deliver entertainments and events; most of them had minimal talent but he didn’t have the heart to let them go.
‘Welcome, everyone,’ he announced, ‘to our annual Halloween Extravaganza.’ The newbies looked at each other excitedly. Everyone else already looked bored.
‘So we have a very exciting show planned for this year which will be staged in this very theatre we are sitting in now.’
‘Great,’ muttered someone in the front row. ‘So we are going to freeze our tits off again to an empty house because no one can be bothered to walk this far.’
Tom chose to ignore this comment. Amy chose to get up and seat herself heavily alongside the heckler, who paled significantly.
‘We’ve got a full schedule planned for today,’ continued Tom. ‘For the benefit of those of you who have never worked at Wonderland before, Amy here will take you through some general housekeeping basics shortly. For those of you who are part of our more permanent staff it won’t hurt to hear it all again.’
There was an audible groan from the room. Amy leant into her neighbour, which halted the noise immediately.
‘I will then take you through the concept of Malice In Wonderland in detail and after lunch we’ll do some improv work around the story to allow us to bond as a company,’ Tom ploughed on. ‘If we have time we’ll start to walk through the show at the end of the day before we begin rehearsals for the main numbers tomorrow. Any questions?’
A man in his twenties on the front row shot up his arm.
‘Can I be the Mad Hatter?’ he gasped. ‘I know I did the rabbit for my audition but I can do a really good Mad Hatter now – let me show you.’ The man started to get up.
‘No, no, nooo,’ said Tom, waving at him to sit down again. ‘Nathan, isn’t it? Take a seat, mate, hey.’ Nathan beamed at him for the recognition and obediently sat down again. Tom glanced over at Amy, confused. Nathan had been in their definite rejects list, he was sure. She shrugged.
‘We had a last-minute dropout who’d had his hands cast in an advert for toilet cleaner. Nathan was the only person I could get hold of who could make it today,’ she muttered.
Tom turned back to face
Nathan. He was too ugly even to be a zombie. ‘Parts will be discussed later today,’ he said dejectedly. ‘I’ll hand you over to Amy.’ He sat down with a thump and then couldn’t help but glance over at Carly. She gave him a cheerful thumbs up; then she slapped her hand as though telling herself off for fraternising with the boss.
‘Right,’ said Amy, getting up and turning to face the group. ‘Listen up. This is important. Nathan, will you hand these out for me?’ She waved a thick sheaf of A4 paper at him and he leapt to his feet, keen to be teacher’s pet.
‘There are three sheets of paper you need to collect. I repeat three,’ she announced, holding up three fingers as further confirmation. ‘I have photocopied exactly the right amount so if you don’t have three different sheets in your hand then someone else has yours and I suggest you find them and ask for it back. I will not be copying any more. It is your responsibility to make sure you have these documents. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Hell yeah,’ squawked Carly with a grin. Amy glared at her.
‘Sheet one, on pink paper,’ she continued, holding it aloft, ‘is your rehearsal schedule. Do not lose it. You will be expected to be at rehearsal at least ten minutes before it is due to start, and stay until Tom says you can go. We operate a zero-tolerance policy on this. Understood?’
‘Hell yeah,’ repeated Carly. Tom tried hard not to laugh.
‘Sheet two, on blue paper,’ said Amy, ignoring Carly this time. ‘This is the show schedule. You will be expected to be in full costume and make-up at least thirty minutes before curtain-up, understood?’
‘Hell yeah,’ came back the cry as some of the others decided to be brave enough to join Carly in the response. Amy glared at Carly again, pausing for a few seconds to ensure her displeasure was obvious.
‘Do not lose the blue sheet,’ she demanded. ‘Finally, on the white paper, are the mission and values of the company,’ she announced. ‘Any questions?’ She sat down abruptly before Carly could steal her thunder any more. However, Carly was the first to stick her hand up. Amy nodded tersely to indicate that she was allowed to speak.
‘You didn’t mention that we couldn’t lose the white sheet?’ she asked. ‘Does that mean it is permissible to lose the sheet with the company mission and values?’
‘Correct,’ replied Amy, without missing a beat. ‘Knowledge of the company mission and values is not essential to your role here; however, it is apparently a requirement of my role that I give them to you. In fact I would go so far as to say that you might find the mission and values more of a hindrance to you in your job than a help. I would suggest that you discreetly place them in one of the recycling bins on your way out today.’
‘Thank you.’ Carly nodded. ‘Very helpful.’
Amy nodded curtly back.
Tom raised his eyebrows; he’d long since given up trying to persuade Amy not to be quite so obvious in her disdain of certain company protocols in front of cast members. But – as she regularly pointed out – they just got in the way, which was something he could not disagree with.
‘Right,’ he said, getting up. ‘Thank you, Amy. Now I am going to take you through the show concept. Are you all sitting comfortably?’
‘Hell yeah,’ cried Carly, followed by a few enthusiastic shrieks by others. He smiled at her gratefully.
‘. . . and so hopefully you can see in your heads the amazing, terrifying, wonderful world of Malice in Wonderland,’ said Tom over half an hour later as his audience sat spellbound. They‘d been entranced from the moment Tom began to describe the opening number: a seventies-inspired dance routine involving a troupe of crazed technicolour disco-dancing rabbits on a stage crammed with swirling, whirling multicoloured lights. Having performed a spectacular acrobatic routine they lead Alice down the rabbit hole where things quickly turn dark and sinister when she’s confronted by her trick-or-treat challenge. She falls for the charms of the delicious-looking cupcake with ‘EAT ME’ iced on it but little does she expect that the tasty treat will turn her, Alice, into Malice. From cute and innocent she turns monstrous and transforms an all-star dancing troupe of grinning Cheshire Cats into a fleet of terrifying zombies. She then creates havoc at the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party, taking an instant dislike to the sleeping dormouse, forcing the Mad Hatter and March Hare to desperately try and hide him until the inevitable happens and Malice chops off his head. Tom had slammed the table in front of him at that point, making the entire room jump in surprise.
‘The Queen of Hearts and her card soldiers don’t fare much better,’ he’d continued. ‘Malice turns the playing cards into tarot cards who hound the Queen out of the kingdom during a ghoulish, spooky tribal dance. But then the cards turn on Malice herself and hustle her into court where she stands trial for crimes against Halloween and so we end with a rousing finale. An all-singing, all-dancing show-stopper involving the entire cast along with all the special effects you can shake a stick at as Malice pleads her innocence to a jury made up of all the cutest costume characters you have ever seen. On stage you will see a Pitch Perfect-style dancing and singing battle as scary Halloween characters led by Malice attack the cutesy, cuddly characters led by the White Rabbit. All comes to a close when Malice is unable to resist stealing a treat from behind the White Rabbit’s back with an ‘EAT ME’ sign on it. All of a sudden everything goes dark. We see a puff of smoke and gradually the lights are raised and there is Alice alone on the stage, back to her normal self, scratching her head, wondering what had happened to her. Wondering if it was all a dream . . .’ Tom paused to check he was still holding their rapt attention.
‘The lights go off again,’ he continued, nodding at Amy, who had walked over to the other side of the auditorium. She flicked a switch and the entire room went pitch black. Everyone gasped. Two people screamed. Tom flicked a switch on a torch underneath his chin so the only thing illuminated in the whole room was his face. A face he had covered with a horrifying Malice mask.
‘So, children,’ he said in a deep, spooky voice. ‘‘What do you dare ask for this Halloween, a trick, or . . . treat . . . ha ha ha?’
He flicked the off switch on the torch plunging everyone into darkness again. Three seconds passed then Amy put the lights back on as instructed.
To his utter amazement there was spontaneous applause as soon as the lights went on. Again he glanced over at Carly, unable to help himself. She was clapping and whistling and stamping her feet. Tom blushed and looked away. This was unusual. Normally all he heard at this point was a clamour of people trying to bagsy themselves the best parts.
‘Thanks,’ he muttered, feeling bizarrely shy.
‘It’s just genius,’ said Nathan, shaking his head. ‘That trick you described that the Mad Hatter’s going to do with the levitating cut-off heads just blows my mind.’
‘That dance-off at the end is going to be amazing,’ a girl sitting next to him said excitedly. ‘I love the idea of cute, fluffy bunnies dancing against zombies. Epic.’
‘It’s a proper show,’ said another excitedly. ‘With like a beginning, a middle and an end, and with lots of different sets and special effects and pyros . . . you did say pyros, didn’t you?’
Tom looked back into her excited eyes. He glanced over at Amy, who seemed to be oblivious to the hype the story had caused as she sat writing notes in her notebook. He felt his shoulders sag slightly; his confidence of a moment ago had evaporated.
‘Well, that’s the story of the show,’ he said quickly. ‘The vision, if you will, but we have a lot of challenges to overcome in order to achieve it.’ He swallowed. ‘I feel it’s only fair to warn you that due to budget restraints, time and resources that it is highly likely we will have to cut some elements of the show. It may not end up being exactly how I just described it.’
Everyone stared back at him in silence. Carly raised her hand. Amy glared.
‘Yes, Carly,’ said Tom, eager for someone to fill the awkward silence.
‘Where did the idea for the show come from?’
she asked.
‘What do you mean?’ replied Tom.
‘I mean, where has it been done before? Maybe it would be good for us to see how other people have performed it, get some ideas?’
‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘You don’t understand. It’s my idea. I wrote the show. It’s never been done before.’
‘Wow,’ she said, slightly taken aback. ‘Well then, we’ll make it our own, won’t we, guys?’ she said, looking around.
‘Hell yeah,’ shouted Nathan.
‘I think that will be lunchtime,’ Amy announced, standing up and planting herself firmly next to Tom. ‘You all know where the canteen is, don’t you? But for those of you planning a successful career on the stage you’ll find the toilets in the hallway outside. Thank you, off you go.’
‘Amy!’ said Tom. ‘You can’t say things like that. You’ll get yourself fired.’
‘You going to fire me?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Well then, I’ve got nothing to worry about, have I? Now, after the morning I’ve had I think I’m going to go and give Costume a bollocking. Cheer myself up. See you later.’
Tom nodded and didn’t move. He felt too depressed to eat. He watched the cast troop out of the room with the same feeling he had when they started to rehearse every show: that despite his grand ideas, the end result would be anything but grand. He knew it could be fabulous, if only he had the resources to make it happen. As always it would be half the show he had described once the money ran out and his cast proved to be lacking somewhat in the talent department.
Carly, the last to leave, came up to punch him on the arm. ‘Seriously brilliant concept,’ she said, her eyes shining. ‘You’re like some kind of genius.’