by Rosie Dean
‘I wouldn’t expect you to, George. I’m sure he’ll turn up soon,’ I said, even though I felt like swearing. Big H, our nineteen year old lighting technician, was a whiz with faders, follow-spots and sundry little buttons. He wouldn’t let me down.
My band of performers and some of their mums began to flock in around six-thirty. The youngest gazed open-mouthed at their first complete view of the scenery, while the seasoned elder teens glanced up with a grunt and returned to more pressing matters, like social networking on their phones – most likely messaging mates in the same building.
My clipboard in hand, I doled out minor jobs to eager parents, corralled the cast into sections of the auditorium and glanced repeatedly at my watch and the lighting booth in the hope that Big H might appear. Had I taken his talent too much for granted? Could he be sulking?
There was a discordant symphony drifting from the small, professional group of musicians tuning up. Bob, my musical director, was pencilling more comments into his score.
By seven-fifteen, there was still no sign of Big H. I stepped onto the stage, clapped my hands and called the cast to order. ‘Remember, tonight is not a complete run-through; we’re starting and finishing scenes, doing entrances, musical numbers, marking positions for the…er…lights, and checking props. Anybody unsure what’s expected of them?’
A hand went up. ‘Ollie and Whiz aren’t back from their school trip.’
Two of my Burger Palace Boys. Great. ‘Anyone know when they’ll be here?’ A Mexican wave of shrugs rippled through the group. ‘Okay. Max, you make sure you tell them anything they need to know. Right, now…’
‘Millie!’ a voice called and I peered into the auditorium where the girl playing Frenchy was waving. ‘Lulu’s not here, either.’
I closed my eyes and ripped through one to ten in my head. ‘That’s a pity. We’ve still got to get on…’
There was the trill of a phone. ‘Whose phone is that?’ I snapped.
Heads turned but it was Bob dipping his hand into his pocket. ‘Sorry,’ he said and still answered it. The sniggers and tuts of the cast almost drowned out his conversation but not enough for me to miss the words, ‘Okay, I’ll get there as soon as I can.’
‘Sorry, Millie, it’s my mother. She’s had a fall. They’ve got her in A & E.’
And that was the best place for her – with medical professionals. A fat lot of use Bob and his conductor’s baton would be. I produced a look of sympathy and nodded.
Crap. Could things get any worse?
There was a bumpety-bump as Lulu tripped from the wings onto the stage beside me. ‘We’re gonna rule the school!’ she announced, arms at full stretch.
A huge cheer went up.
She pumped her hips. ‘Rizzo is in the building!’
‘Pissed,’ someone hissed.
I didn’t doubt it. As dear old Mae West would say, we were in for a bumpy night.
By nine o’clock, half the senior cast were almost as drunk as Lulu. Against my better judgement, I enlisted the help of George and dragged a step ladder onto the back of the stage and climbed it, forcing the cast to turn and look up at me. ‘We only have the dress rehearsal to go,’ I began. Eyes lowered everywhere as they primed themselves for my usual pep-talk. ‘But I’m prepared to cancel this show and return all the money if things don’t improve.’
Heads lifted and jaws dropped. ‘What?’
‘People are paying hard-earned cash to be entertained. We have a responsibility to give them a good show. Right now, it would be an insult to raise the curtain on this. It’s a shambles. And half of you are drunk.’
There were a few sniggers and one groan of agreement, as George decided to take his place on the other side of the ladders. ‘Never mind what Millie thinks,’ he grunted. ‘I’ll close the show, because it’s illegal for youngsters to consume alcohol on these premises. And I would be negligible in my duty if I didn’t put a stop to it. D’you ’ear me?’ Furtive looks twitched across a few faces. ‘Do you ’ear me?’ he asked, more loudly, making me think he might have watched a few too many pantomimes.
There were murmurs of acceptance and much scuffling of feet.
I really hoped they were listening, because I didn’t want to cancel the show. Especially after all the effort we’d put in. Before George pissed them off completely, I held up my hand to get their attention. ‘I want to give each of the principal characters their notes before we go home. To those of you who really pulled your weight tonight, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I truly believe we can salvage a good show out of the talent here. But it needs one hundred percent commitment – from all of you.’ There was a brooding silence. ‘Principals, stay behind! Please.’
Despite being half-cut, Lulu had performed her part with a certain oomph. The only outrageous move she’d made was cupping one of the lads in the crotch during ‘Summer Nights’.
Funny, it might have been; acceptable, it wasn’t.
I saved her till last. She gave me a surly look. ‘I knew you’d do me last,’ she grumbled. ‘You gonna sack me?’
I sat on the edge of the stage and beckoned her to sit down. ‘Lulu, you are, without doubt, the most talented person in this company.’
Her tense face loosened in surprise. ‘Really?’
‘Which is why it’s such a disappointment when you don’t give it your best shot. I know you hate me picking up on the drink thing, but if you did this sober you’d be sensational…out of this world…X-factor amazing.’ She leaned back to study me and nearly toppled over. I grabbed her hand. ‘See. If you fall on your backside, you’ll look like a prat. If you don’t drink, you’ll knock ’em for six.’
She nodded slowly. ‘Maybe.’
‘Honestly.’
She leaned into me and gave me a hug. ‘You’re alright, Millie,’ she said. ‘You act like you got a poker up your arse sometimes, but you’re alright.’
George was rearranging some props, ready to step in and sort her out if she got aggressive, and looked most disappointed that his protection wasn’t needed. As Lulu stood to leave, I held my breath, willing him not to say anything to upset her. She picked up her bag and waved, ‘Night, Millie.’
Night, indeed. If I had a sleeping bag, I’d have snuggled down, right there on the stage.
George watched her go. At the door, she turned and winked. ‘Don’t worry, George. I’ll save you a drop of whisky on the last night.’
His chest puffed out, so I jumped off the stage and touched his arm, ‘She’s joking, George – pulling your leg.’
As I carried on fishing about in my bag, Lulu said, ‘Hey, are you Millie’s boyfriend?’
‘What? George?’ I squawked, turning just in time to see Lex walk in.
He looked hot in black jeans and white shirt, with a shiny buckled belt accentuating his trim waist and the impressive package beneath.
So he hadn’t given up on me. Our brief, business-like calls during the week had barely indicated any level of interest, yet there he was, running one hand through his thick, dark hair and smouldering for me – I swear – smouldering.
As Lex approached, George shadowed me like a minder. Some people do that – you take them into your confidence for a moment and suddenly, they’re self-appointed family.
Lex nodded at George but homed in on me. ‘Hello gorgeous,’ he murmured in my ear as he slid his arms round my waist. Lulu whistled from the doorway. I suppose I should have been encouraged she wasn’t half-way to the nearest pub. ‘How d’you fancy a late supper back at the house, huh? We can pick up a take-away.’
So thoughtful. What a tragic shame my eyelids felt like lead and my mouth tasted like peat – the way it does after sleeping just eight hours in two days and consuming coffee by the litre. Lex, on the other hand, smelled of cologne and peppermint. My smile widened into a yawn as I squirmed out of his arms. ‘Sorry.’ I flapped a hand over my mouth to block what I imagined was eye-watering halitosis. This was one occasion when I didn’t want him kiss
ing me. ‘Let me grab my things.’
I rummaged in my handbag for a menthol sweet that had been lurking there since last winter. George was circling Lex in anticipation of an introduction. Lex obliged by holding out his hand. ‘Good evening. I’m Alexander Marshal.’
George nodded and shook hands with him. ‘Pleased to meet you. George Hawksworth.’
‘All going well, is it?’ Lex asked.
‘Well…’ George began, shaking his head and casting a glance in my direction. ‘Not for me to say. That’s Millie’s department.’
‘I have every confidence,’ I called over my shoulder, gathering up my notes and shoving them into the bag. ‘Okay, I’m ready.’
Outside, a gaggle of young admirers was hovering round the Maserati, amongst them, Lulu. She gave me a look of respect. ‘Nice one, Millie. Take me for a spin will ya?’ she added to Lex.
He shot her one of his devastating smiles and slipped his arm around my waist. ‘Maybe some other time.’
You couldn’t blame the girl for trying – even if he was way out of her league. Mind you, hadn’t I thought he was out of mine, too?
When Lex went into the Chinese Takeaway to pick up our order, I glanced at my watch – quarter past ten – and yawned again. Could I still pull this off? Of course I could. I hadn’t eaten properly for two days, so a good Chinese meal would raise my blood sugar; I’d have a quick wash and lust would carry me the rest of the way. As Lex sauntered out of the shop with our supper in a brown carrier bag, he caught me watching him and smiled.
Woosh!
A surge of hormone-fuelled adrenalin hit my system. Oh yes. I could do this.
The sun had set but there was still a warm glow to the evening sky as we cruised along the country lanes towards Marshalhampton. I studied his hands on the polished wooden and leather steering wheel, noticed the gleaming gold and cream Gucci watch that wrapped around his wrist. Washing machines didn’t go ‘pop!’ in his world and even if they did, he’d just call up a supplier and order a new one.
There was such an air of confidence in his driving that my pulse began to throb with anticipation – all signs were good for a long slow burn towards the ultimate climax. I rested my head back and gazed out of the window. We passed through a beautiful avenue of beech trees that lines the road to the south of the village, and I watched how prettily the headlights lit the canopy of leaves, and I dreamed of a glorious future with Lex. Suddenly, there was a bang, a judder and the trees above appeared to spin…no, wait…that was us, as we moved sideways and back along the road. Lex swore loudly as he grappled to regain control, and I really did see a movie trailer of my-life-to-date pass across my inner vision until, with an almighty crunch, we came to a shuddering halt against a tree.
‘Christ!’ Lex hissed, looking around him. ‘Must’ve had a blowout.’
‘You okay?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘You?’
I did a rapid assessment. ‘I think so.’ The odour of lemon, soy and ginger filled the car, blending with a whiff of burnt rubber.
‘Best we get out.’ He tried his door but the impact had buckled it. Mine was unaffected so I climbed out and held the door with my backside while I pulled the phone from my bag. ‘Who’re you calling?’ he asked, sliding across the seat.
‘Um…I was going to dial 999.’
‘Don’t! I’ll call Dave Stoker. He can bring his tow-truck over.’ He pulled the phone from his pocket and punched a memory key.
‘Sure you’re not injured?’ I asked, noticing how he avoided putting weight on his right leg.
‘I’m fine, just bruised, I expect.’
‘Don’t we have to report an accident like this?’
‘No. Nobody else is involved.’ He turned away from me. ‘Alright, Dave?’ he said into the phone. ‘Had a bit of a prang…Marshalhampton end of Hoggets Rise. Yes. Could you? Thanks.’
We heard footsteps running towards us. I turned to see the dimmed lights of another car further up the road. Its owner, a guy in long canvas shorts and a hand-dyed t-shirt, spoke as he approached. ‘Man. That was a lucky escape.’
I thought people stopped saying Man before I was born.
Lex frowned. I guessed he was in pain. He ran a hand through his hair and forced a laugh. ‘Yes. I see the tyre’s shot.’ He attempted to kick the offending rubber but pulled his foot back quickly.
‘I’ve called the emergency services,’ the guy said. ‘I really didn’t think you’d get out of that.’
Lex’s jaw clenched.
‘Thank you so much,’ I said. ‘That’s very kind of you.’
He looked pleased with himself and stood, hands on hips, surveying the damage. ‘Man. That’s one helluva car you didn’t want to trash, hey?’
Lex was breathing heavily. Not only was his Maserati trashed, it looked like his chances of red hot sex might be in the ditch, too. Although, on balance, I imagined he was more distressed about the car. ‘It’s very good of you to stop,’ he began. ‘No need for us to hold you up though.’
‘Not at all, mate. I’ll hang around till they get here – in case you need anything. I’ve got some water in the car, if you want it.’
We also had a complete Chinese meal in the foot-well but we weren’t about to have a picnic.
‘Thanks. No. I think we’re fine, aren’t we?’ Lex’s eyes pleaded with mine.
‘Absolutely fine. Lex lives very near here. We could practically walk home. But thanks for stopping.’
The guy nodded. Neither of us spoke and the power of our silence acted like a force field. ‘Right then,’ he said, backing up. ‘If you’re sure you’re alright?’
Lex put his arm around my shoulders and I slipped mine around his waist. ‘Thanks again. We’ll be okay.’
‘What about a witness…for your insurance claim?’ he pressed on.
I looked up at Lex. ‘He has a point.’
That muscle flexed again. I slackened my hold, in case I was pressing on a bruise. In the distance I could hear the wail of a siren. Lex sighed. ‘Actually – would you mind getting us that water? I think I could do with some, after all.’
‘Sure thing.’ The guy sprinted back up the road.
Lex turned to me. ‘Millie, will you do me a favour?’
‘Of course.’ I looked down at the leg he wasn’t standing on, bracing myself for the sight of blood.
‘When the police get here, I need you to say you were driving.’
‘What?’
‘I did a wine tasting earlier. I can’t afford to lose my licence.’
I would easily pass the breath test but that wasn’t the point. ‘Won’t it affect my insurance, though?’ That wasn’t the point, either.
‘Don’t worry. You won’t have to make a claim. I’ll pay for the damage.’
‘What if the police want to investigate?’
‘They won’t!’ He snapped. ‘Nobody else is involved. It was only a blow-out. These things happen.’
I could see a blue light strobing through the trees. Our Good Samaritan came back with the water and introduced himself as Joey. Lex pushed away from me and limped to the car. He pulled the Chinese meal from the foot-well and deposited it on the verge.
I walked over to him. ‘I can’t do it, Lex,’ I whispered. ‘I’m really sorry.’
His brows dipped into a jagged line. ‘Fuck!’
As the police car slowed to a halt beside us, a broad smile spread over his face. ‘Evening, Jason,’ he said as one of them got out. He bent down and smiled at the driver. ‘Evening, Will.’
‘That’s going to be a nasty dent, eh, Lex?’ Jason said, placing a hand on Lex’s shoulder.
‘Bloody nail in the tyre.’
‘Ouch. Expensive nail, mate.’
‘I’ll say.’
All four men inspected the damage, shaking heads, muttering about costs and laughing intermittently about what a lucky escape we’d had. I stood, open-mouthed. How could they pass it off so easily? If it had been my girlfriends, we’d have
been hugging each other and thanking our lucky stars we weren’t road-kill.
‘I’m afraid I have to ask you, Lex, you’ve not been drinking, have you?’
‘Not tonight, guys,’ he eyeballed them. ‘Drove straight from work to Bellington Community Theatre. Millie here’s directing some youth group in a musical. Talented bunch they are, too,’ he lied – never having seen a single one of them perform. He did it so effortlessly; I was amazed he hadn’t taken to the stage, himself.
‘Bellington…’ the older officer looked at me. I instantly felt a tide of crimson lap my cheeks. I couldn’t be arrested for having too many children in one place, could I? ‘I think my sister’s kid goes there. Doing Grease aren’t you?’
‘Yessss.’ I beamed. ‘Who’s the child?’
‘Morrissey Archer.’
‘Morrissey. Of course I know him.’ Quite a little shit but he liked me because I made a point of praising him on a regular basis. ‘He has a lovely singing voice.’
He nodded, as if I was confirming something he already knew. ‘He loves showing off, does our Morrissey. I might even come and see the show, if I’m not working.’
‘Please do. The children love it when they get support from their families,’ I gushed, hoping to emphasize my integrity.
Jason turned to Lex. ‘Sure you’re alright, mate?’
When Lex insisted he didn’t need to go to hospital, Jason radioed through to cancel the ambulance. Two minutes later, Dave Stoker’s pick-up truck arrived, and the police departed.
Lex flashed Joey a charming smile. ‘I wonder, Joey, could I ask you to drive Millie home?’
Joey’s eyes lit up. ‘Absolutely. No problem. Be a pleasure.’
‘There you go,’ Lex gave me a perfunctory kiss. ‘Call you tomorrow, Mills.’
‘Sure.’ I was way too knackered to care and had even less energy for conversation, which didn’t matter, since Joey kept up a monologue all the way home. In fact, I’m pretty sure he recited a summary of Isaac Asimov’s entire back catalogue, but I’ve no proof. I was too busy wrestling with the knowledge that Lex would have been perfectly happy to pass the blame of his accident onto me.