Under the Spotlight (Perth Girls Book 4)

by Bree Verity

  Seriously, Edwin, if this is you, it’s not funny today.

  “Guys, who has the drill?” she shouted over her shoulder, still struggling to hold the board in place. “It was right there. Who has it?”

  Six blank faces were the only response she got, and her simmering anger, that she had managed to keep at bay until now, increased to a mild boiling.

  “For fuck’s sake, someone go find it. I can’t hold this here forever.” Two of her helpers started to scan the stage floor and the wings, and Amber scampered off to see if anyone in the green room had borrowed the drill.

  Penny’s jaw and shoulders clenched uncomfortably, and she felt an alarming tightening in her chest.

  Settle down, Penny. This is supposed to be fun.

  But it wasn’t fun. She wasn’t enjoying herself at all.

  With a sigh she let the board down to the floor. It was a waste of energy to hold it in place when there was no likelihood of seeing the drill any time soon. And she needed to rotate her shoulders, try to reduce some of the tension she was feeling.

  “Here it is!” Amber brought the drill to Penny, saying brightly, “Chris borrowed it to fix the mirror in the dressing room.”

  “Well Chris should ask before he just takes something,” snapped Penny, and Amber’s face fell. Penny immediately felt abashed and put out a hand to touch Amber’s forearm. “Sorry Amber. Thanks.” A wavering smile returned to the girl’s face, before she turned and darted away.

  Penny returned the board to its place and fixed it with a screw or two before turning her attention to another job.

  At least, that’s what she told herself she was doing. Actually, she looked out over the auditorium.

  Penny refused to admit even to herself that she was looking for Marc, and that when she found him, talking to two of the girls from the production, that her eyes rested on him for several long moments before filling with tears that she refused to allow to fall. It was just like him - back to his man-whoring ways. Flirting with two girls at the same time.

  She turned her attention back to the stage, her shoulders drooping. She should just forget about him.

  Suddenly there was a loud crash. The plasterboard she had just fixed had come loose and crashed to the ground, landing on its edge. Then, with sickening slowness, it then fell like a giant, slender domino.

  “Look out!”

  People scuttled out of the way before it hit the floor with a bang. Penny winced. The board had landed on a bunch of other stuff that had been brought on to the stage - painting tools, a broom and a selection of power tools.

  “Is everyone okay?” Penny shouted and when affirmative nods were seen all round she said, “Sorry, that was my fault. I mustn’t have fixed it properly.” She lifted the edge of the board, which was now sporting a splash of white paint and a few new dings and dimples. She sighed, angry tears filling her eyes again. She knew better. The screws were way too short to hold a board of that size. What was she thinking? She could have hurt someone.

  “Is everything alright up here?” Jane said, rushing to Penny’s side.

  “Yep, I just didn’t use the right screws and the board fell off the wall,” she said.

  “Be careful,” warned Jane. “We don’t need any injuries.”

  Penny was just about to agree when a loud yelp was heard from the green room, and Chris appeared, holding his arm. It was dripping with blood.

  Jane jumped into action, running to get the first aid kit.

  Penny just snapped, all the self-control she had left deserting her. With a sob, she ran out of the theater, to the cool, welcoming air outside.

  She sat on a step, her hands shaking, and feeling the telltale overbeating of her heart, the buzzing in her head and the flashes of dreadful memory.

  Oh no. Not again.

  She started to breathe too fast and too shallow. She had to slow it down, to cool herself down.

  A swirl of wind caught her hair, and she shivered at a sudden coolness on her neck. To Penny’s surprise, the lace handkerchief lay right beside her on the step. She was certain it hadn’t been there before. Looking swiftly around, she picked it up and held it against her cheek with a soft smile.

  Thanks for your concern Edwin. I’m okay.

  “What’s up with you?” Jane asked, hurrying out of the auditorium, worry written all over her face. “You haven’t been yourself all morning.” She sat down beside Penny, who smiled through her tears.

  “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not looking for an apology,” Jane said with a gentle smile. “I’m more concerned about you. What’s got you so upset?”

  “He broke up with me.” Penny was surprised how easily the words came, despite the pain in her throat and chest that they caused.

  “He did what?”

  “Broke up with me. He said he couldn’t be with someone with mental illness. Because he found anti-depressants in my bathroom.”

  Jane was silent for a moment, before remarking, “Well, if he’s going to be such a prick about it, maybe you’re better off.”

  “But I don’t have mental illness, Jane,” insisted Penny. “If he’d had a look, he’d see I haven’t even taken any. I don’t need them.”

  “But your panic attacks, Pen?”

  “I’m working through that with a psychologist. But it's not mental illness. It’s just one event.”

  “Alright, so not mental illness. You told him this, right?”

  “Yes. But he wouldn’t listen.”

  Jane rubbed Penny’s arm comfortingly, then pulled her into a hug. “Men can be shits,” she said in Penny’s ear, and Penny was surprised into a chuckle.

  “It’s true,” was her watery reply.

  “Try not to worry about it,” suggested Jane. “If it’s supposed to be, it’ll work itself out.” She paused for another tiny moment before adding anxiously, “Can you still work with him backstage? Is that going to be too uncomfortable for the pair of you?”

  Penny laughed again, and this time Jane laughed too, a little ruefully. “What? I have to think about these things. I’m the director.”

  “I know,” said Penny, “and it would be a bit of a nightmare if both your leading lady and your stage manager left a week out from the season. But don’t worry. I haven’t talked to him about it, but we’ll be able to manage it.”

  Jane nodded, obviously relieved.

  Penny was pleased to find that her unwelcome tears were drying. “Maybe I just needed to have a cry to clear my head,” she said. “I’m feeling a bit better.”

  “Better enough to return to work?” asked Jane, continuing hurriedly, “Not that I’m pressuring you into going back inside, but if you’re ready?”

  “I’m ready,” replied Penny with a deep, fortifying breath. “I got this.”

  “We got this,” affirmed Jane, linking arms with Penny as they walked back into the theater.

  Penny’s stomach dropped when Marc strode up to them in the foyer, his face a mask of concern. “Everything okay?” he said, anxiously scanning Penny’s face. She flushed and looked away.

  “We’re all good,” said Jane crisply. “Back to work.”

  But Marc didn’t seem to be moving and with a heavy heart, Penny realised he wanted to say something to her. She smiled at Jane, saying, “We got this,” and Jane continued into the hall, after squeezing Penny’s arm.

  Penny stood silently, waiting for Marc to speak.

  After a moment, he said, “Are you okay?”

  The old Penny would have smiled and said, “Sure.” But she didn’t feel like passive Penny any more. She hissed back, “What do you think?”

  “Sorry, sorry. Stupid question. I meant, is everything okay here? Did you get hurt when the board fell?”

  “No. But Chris managed to gash his arm open.”

  “Chris and power tools are always a bad idea,” Marc replied lightly, and Penny knew he was trying to lighten the moment with a running joke. Chris’ day job was in a plush o
ffice, wearing a suit and tie. It seemed the only time he got to play with power tools was at the theater. And it seemed that every time he did, he injured himself.

  But Penny was in no mood to exchange laughter with Marc. “Is that all?” she said coldly.

  “Yeah. I just wanted to be sure you weren’t hurt.”

  “I’m surprised you even noticed, what with all of the little girls crowded around you.”

  Penny instantly knew it was the wrong thing to say.

  Marc replied, “Are you jealous?” She didn’t know if he was serious or teasing. Since she was not in a teasing mood, she answered seriously.

  “Why would I be? You don’t want to be with me anymore. I don’t care who you talk to.”

  Penny brushed past him, but he grabbed her arm in passing.

  “Pen?”

  She turned around at his word, her one raised eyebrow signaling her impatience.

  He licked him lips and looked away. After a long, uncomfortable moment, he shook his head. “No. Nothing. It’s okay.”

  With a grim smile, he went ahead of her into the hall.

  Penny exhaled. It would be tough working with Marc, but it was doable. Now all she needed to do was to work out how to stop her heart from aching every time she saw him.

  Chapter Twenty

  It was a couple of days later, and Penny had a night at home in between rehearsals. She was in her room reading a magazine when her mother knocked.

  “Pen? Could we talk to you for a sec? Maybe in the lounge room?”

  Surprised by her mother’s request, Penny nodded, put her magazine down and walked behind her Mum into the cozy lounge room, taking a seat on the couch.

  Her mother sat right beside her, and her dad stood awkwardly beside the couch.

  “What is this?” asked Pen with a hesitant smile. “Should I be worried?”

  Her mother took Penny’s hand and said hesitantly, “We think that… no.” She looked at her husband, who nodded and gave her what Penny thought must have been an encouraging smile. She turned back to Penny. “I think that I owe you an apology.”

  “Pardon?”

  “With my reaction to your news, Pen. I was a little bit… short with you. And I’m sorry.”

  Penny smiled gently at her mother. “I’m sorry too, Mum,” she said. “But I didn’t know how to tell you without upsetting you. Both of you.” She shot a look at her dad, who nodded.

  “We want to apologize to you about that, too, Penny,” he said, his face reddening. “We didn’t know. But we should have done more.”

  “You thought you were doing the right thing,” replied Penny. “And you thought you were doing what I wanted. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “We wanted to apologize anyway, Pen,” her mother said, “for the sadness that you’ve obviously hidden away for years, and for the pain we put you through.” Fat tears rolled down her mother’s face. “I wish we had known. That baby would have been the most spoiled child ever.”

  Penny laughed even as her own tears started to fall. “I know right? Just lately I’ve been looking at the teeny, tiny Nike’s that we have in stock and I think, ‘My baby would so have worn those.’”

  “Your baby,” her mother replied softly, before sweeping Penny into hug. “I’m so, so sorry,” she sobbed. “Can you ever forgive us?”

  “Mum, really? I’ve never blamed you. Not really. You guys always did what you thought was right.” She felt her dad’s comforting hand on her back and realised he had dropped to his knees and embraced them both.

  “But the pain you’ve been in. For all these years.”

  “Not to worry,” replied Penny cheerfully. “It’s been suppressed for most of those years.”

  “Penny.” Her mother pulled out of the group hug and slapped Penny playfully on the arm, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

  They sat silently, Penny thinking about what else she wanted to say to her parents, now that they had come around. It was just like Dr. Johnson had said. All Penny had to do was wait.

  “Did you ever give the baby a name?” Her mum asked, breaking into her thoughts. Penny shook her head.

  “I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl,” she replied, “so I didn’t. I had boy and girl names picked out, though.”

  “It was a girl,” her mum said in a quiet voice.

  “Could you tell? That early on?”

  “You can, but we didn’t see. I just knew it somehow.”

  “A girl,” mused Penny. She liked the thought of knowing she had a little girl, even if her mother’s intuition was the only indication of it. “Then she would have been Elodie.”

  “Elodie,” her mother murmured, her lips curving into a smile. “What a beautiful name.”

  Penny licked her dry lips. She wanted to ask her parents to do something for her, for the baby. It was a little bit left-of-center, and she wasn’t sure what her Mum would think about it, but she felt it was something she needed to do. She took a deep breath and plunged into her request.

  “Can I ask you guys to organize something for me?”

  “Are you sure?” Her dad said with a smile. “We seem to be really good at messing stuff up.”

  “I don’t think you’d be able to mess this up,” replied Penny, grinning back at him. “I want to have a kind of little memorial for her.”

  “A memorial?” Her mum seemed dubious, and Penny immediately withdrew. “I mean, if it’s okay with you, that is. Do you think it’s a good idea?”

  “Penny.” Her dad took her hands in between his big, weathered paws. “We think it’s a good idea.” He hugged Penny tightly. “Just tell us when and where, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And Pen?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s good that you’re coming out of your shell a bit. You know, asserting yourself. We’re proud of you.” Her dad was flushing, unused to giving compliments. He was a plain-speaking council worker. Gruff and tough and blokey. Penny knew that it took quite a bit of effort for him to say what he was saying.

  She smiled and gave him a hug. “Thanks Dad. I’ve been practicing my assertion techniques.” Her Dad nodded.

  “Well, it’s good. Keep it up.”

  Once again, the three of them hugged, and Penny couldn’t have been happier. Her family was back together.

  “And a skinny latte for you, my lady,” said Lydia, placing the tall glass in front of Penny with a flourish, before she sat down beside her with a sigh. “It’s been a long week,” she groaned.

  “And it’s only Wednesday,” supplied Desiree.

  “Wednesday night,” replied Lydia. “That makes it almost Thursday.”

  “Which means tomorrow is almost the day before the weekend!” said Penny with a smile.

  “Not sure why you’d care,” retorted Desiree. “You work on the weekend.”

  “So do you,” replied Penny. “You spend half of your weekends marking.”

  “True,” conceded Desiree. “But I get loads of holidays.”

  “About two-thirds of which you are either marking or drawing up the plans for the next year’s curriculum,” said Lydia.

  “You know what?” said Desiree. “My job actually sucks.”

  All three of them laughed, then Desiree continued, “But not as much as Pen’s job.”

  “Hey! I happen to like my job.”

  Lydia turned her body toward Penny. “Did you think about getting a new job, Pen? Like we talked about?”

  Penny smiled, even though her heart flip-flopped a little. It was time for the new, self-assured Penny to speak up.

  “I thought about it, and then I said no. I love my job. I don’t want to leave it. I’m so happy there, and contented, and I can’t imagine a better place to work.”

  “Really? Even with Jim leaving and bringing in a manager?”

  Penny nodded. “Whenever Jim’s not there, I’m standing in anyway, so I get to do my little bit of managing. I can’t imagine that
would change too much.”

  “But what about using your degree? Going for a more skilled job?”

  She gently shook her head, still smiling at her friends. “I wouldn’t want the stress. Can you imagine me in a clinical situation? Really? No, I’m happy where I am.” She took a breath. “So quit trying to talk me out of there.”

  Lydia sat back. “Did you just… assert yourself?” She turned to Desiree with an exaggerated look of surprise on her face. “Did she just assert herself?”

  “Maybe,” replied Desiree. “I’m not sure I heard it properly.” She turned to Penny. “Did you just tell us to back off and mind our own business?”

  “Well, not in those exact words, but yes. Yes, I did.”

  Lydia clasped her hands together. “Our little girl is growing up,” she said to Desiree.

  “Stop it you guys.”

  “I’m getting all teary.”

  “Seriously, Lydia, quit it.”

  Suddenly, Lydia turned to Penny, a smile on her face. “Good for you, Pen. I’m so proud of you.”

  Penny’s smile tightened, and the thumping of her heart increased. Here was the opening she had been waiting for.

  “I have something else I have to tell you guys as well,” Penny said, “only I warn you, you’re not going to like it one bit.”

  “Why not?” asked Desiree, leaning forward.

  “Because I’ve kind of been lying to you both for years.”

  “Lying to us?” One of Desiree’s fine dark brows flew up.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” said Lydia, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. “What did you lie to us about?”

  Penny inhaled, then slowly blew out the air through pursed lips before launching into her story.

  “Do you remember those holidays when I wasn’t around much, and I said I’d gone to my grandmother’s? It was the holidays before Year Twelve.”

  “Not particularly,” replied Desiree with a dismissive head shake. “What about them?”

  “I didn’t go to my grandmother’s. I got an abortion.”

  While her friends looked on with mouths agape, Penny explained the whole story. By the time she was finished, their coffees were cold.