by Bev Robitai
‘Spare us the lesson, Mr Jessop – we’re not at school now,’ muttered Tamara.
‘I have always wondered why she gave away her villains so easily,’ said Simone. ‘Haven’t you noticed that they always have a curved mouth or a queer smile?’
‘Well gosh, I hadn’t noticed that,’ sneered Tamara, then spun around to face Stewart with a malicious glint in her eye. ‘Hey, show us what a queer smile looks like, Stewie.’
Stewart recoiled as if she’d struck him.
Bruce straightened up from his tripod and looked at her sharply.
Tamara turned on her heel and went over to Adam, smiling at him shyly. ‘Adam, would it be all right if I leave rehearsal half an hour early next Saturday, that’s the 16th? I’ve got a very good friend’s 21st party to go to and it’s a bit of a drive out of town.’
‘As long as you don’t make a habit of it, Tamara. You know that full attendance at rehearsal is important. Ask someone to make notes for you if there’s anything you’ll need to know about.’
‘Thanks, Adam. Thank you very much.’
A few minutes after Adam had left the room, Tamara made an announcement. ‘Don’t tell Adam, but I’m actually the stripper for the 21st party. I wasn’t going to miss that gig for a boring old rehearsal!’ She giggled. ‘I guess you won’t want an invitation, will you Stewie? Not really interested in that sort of thing, are you. God, I need a ciggie.’ She let herself out of the back door and they saw plumes of smoke drift past the windows.
Bruce fumbled with a metal light attachment and dropped it with a clatter, breaking their stunned silence.
‘My God she’s a problem child, isn’t she?’ sighed Pippa. ‘Ignore her, Stewart. She’s just an attention-seeking little madam.’
The scarlet flush on his skin had faded to blotches and he swallowed hard. ‘Th- thanks, Pippa. But I wish she’d find someone else to pick on.’
‘That’s what I used to feel too,’ said Phil. ‘Sorry you were next in line, mate.’
They exchanged the battle-weary grins of men who had faced enemy fire together.
Once each cast member had been photographed they joined the rest of the team onstage for the rehearsal.
Later that night, when everyone else had left for the evening, Jessica saw Stewart standing alone on the stage. A single shaft of light shone through the darkened auditorium onto his face. Eyes closed, he turned his head left and right, like a sunflower seeking the sun. Maybe he imagined an audience in front of him, waiting for him to speak his lines.
Smiling to herself, she tiptoed away to wait in her office until he left so she could lock up.
Chapter 5
The following night Nick chaired a meeting to plan a strategy for saving the theatre. He’d chosen a nearby wine bar as the venue. Artwork decorated the rough-plastered walls; beaten-metal fish and geckoes caught the light in shades of bronze, silver and purple, the same shades picked up on heavy glazed pottery plates along a shelf. The group found a corner table where they could have a reasonably quiet conversation.
Sub-committee members, Clara-Jane, Austin, Phil, Jessica, and Howard’s wife MaryAnn, tossed around ideas for the benefit concert while Nick took notes.
‘Why can’t we get a stripper then, eh? I’d pay good money to watch a pretty little dolly-bird take her clothes off onstage.’
‘Yes, Austin, I’m sure you would. But an act like that wouldn’t have a broad appeal for a family show and that’s what we’re aiming at.’
‘If she’s a pretty enough broad, she’ll appeal to me!’ Austin rubbed his hands together and winked knowingly.
‘Oh for God’s sake, Austin!’ Nick exploded at last. ‘Take a bloody pill or something, will you?’
Jessica hid a smile; this was a side of Nick she hadn’t seen before.
‘I’ve got some, thanks. Little blue ones. Jolly good they are too – d’you want one?’
‘Austin!’ The entire planning committee voiced their disapproval.
Nick sighed wearily. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to hold this meeting in a wine bar. Should we go back to the Regent, do you think?’
‘No, of course not,’ said Clara-Jane. ‘This was a great idea, Nick. It’s nice to get a change of scene. I’m sure Austin was only joking and will stop now.’ She looked hard at Austin to reinforce the message. ‘Perhaps you could get us some water, Austin?’
‘All right, all right,’ he muttered, and stomped off to the bar.
‘Don’t let him get to you, Nick,’ she advised. ‘OK, he’s sleazy and disgusting at times but he’s a damn good stage manager, and has more theatre experience than all the rest of us put together.’
‘He’s probably had more than his share of all sorts of experiences,’ said MaryAnn tartly. ‘I sometimes feel like making Howard have an extra shower when he’s been around Austin for a day.’
Jessica saw Austin, carrying a tray of glasses and a bottle, weaving unsteadily back towards their table. ‘Anyway, Nick,’ she broke in quickly, ‘what have you got in mind for publicity so far?’
He brightened. ‘Clara-Jane’s been a busy girl and made a whole set of t-shirts already – the ones with the knives in the back. I figured we could grab as many society members as we can spare from show preparation and fit them out to go to the Kite Festival next weekend. They can wander through the crowd and hand out flyers about the theatre. I’ve already spoken with the organisers and they’re OK with it.’
‘Great!’ said Jessica. ‘Well done Nick, and well done Clara-Jane. Hey, who’s really photogenic that we could get to wear one? If we could score a picture in the paper that would really help.’
‘I can only say this because Pippa’s not here,’ said Phil, ‘but how about Tamara? I can’t think of anyone who fills out a t-shirt quite so, er, spectacularly.’
‘Good point. Or should I say good points!’ said Clara-Jane. ‘We might as well use her assets for a worthy cause for a change.’
‘Do you think that photographer, Bruce, would go along to the fair and take some shots of her, just in case the newspaper photographer doesn’t show up?’
‘I don’t think so, Jessica!’ Clara-Jane looked slightly stunned at the suggestion. ‘They don’t get on at all. Didn’t you notice the chill in the air when he was taking the promo photos last night?’
‘Oh God, don’t say she’s had an affair with him, too,’ groaned Phil. ‘I mean, as well as the other guys she’s slept with. Not me,’ he made sure they understood.
‘Of course not Phil, we know you’re pure as the driven snow!’ quipped Clara-Jane. ‘Didn’t you know? Bruce is her step-father. Apparently both her parents are very up-tight, conservative types who couldn’t handle her behaviour. He threw her out of the house when she turned eighteen, hoping it would shock her out her wild ways, but it didn’t seem to have much effect except that they don’t speak to each other any more.’
Clara-Jane paused. ‘At least, that’s what she told me, anyway. I’m not sure that it’s an entirely accurate picture. She does have a habit of embroidering the truth when it suits her.’
‘Good knockers, though,’ mused Austin, gazing into space. ‘Especially in a really skin-tight little shirt. Makes bulges in all the right places.’
‘Austin,’ said Jessica, ‘just this once, I have to agree with you.’
As the meeting concluded and they were leaving the wine bar, Jessica felt a hand on her arm.
‘Would you like to grab a cup of coffee someplace, Jess?’ Nick’s dark eyes gazed into hers.
‘Oh, not tonight, Nick – it’s getting a bit late and I think I’ve had enough of the theatre for now.’
‘I wasn’t intending to talk about theatre stuff,’ he assured her. ‘I just thought it would be nice to take a break, relax a bit, spend some time together. Come on, just one little coffee, what harm could it do?’
He smiled his most charming smile, but she just couldn’t summon up the enthusiasm to spend any more of the evening with him.
; ‘Not this time, Nick. Sorry. I want to head on home.’
‘Can I at least walk you back to your place then? It’s dark and I’d feel better if I knew you were home safely.’
She stared at him. ‘Nick, I’m starting to feel like I need protection from you! Honestly mate, you need to back off a notch or two, OK? It’s kind of you to offer, but no.’
He stood stock still. ‘Fine, walk home alone then. But don’t come crying to me if you get mugged or abducted on the way.’ He turned away abruptly, spitting out a low ‘Good night, Jessica,’ in a tone that implied anything but.
She winced inwardly, then shrugged it off. He’d get over it. It must have been the wine talking. Perhaps a walk home in the night air would cool his head.
Early the following night in the empty Green Room, Jessica pinned the Show Clock up on the wall. It was divided into segments, for the weeks leading up to the show and the actual whole run, right up to final night. She set the pointer at 8 weeks to opening night, knowing that it would spur both actors and stage crew to greater efforts when they saw how time was getting steadily shorter.
A door-slam and a low giggle alerted her that someone else was arriving early for rehearsal. Nobody appeared in the Green Room, so after a few minutes she popped her head through the heavy stage door to see who had arrived. In the dimly-lit corridor, two figures were welded together, leaning against the wall. Jessica saw a glimpse of red hair and rolled her eyes. Tamara. Entangled with what was possibly another victim to add to the notches on her bedpost. Surely her fret-worked bed frame must be in imminent danger of collapsing in pieces on the floor by now. Jessica closed the door quietly and went to check the state of the kitchen.
Shortly afterwards, she had an odd feeling of déjà vu when Nick and Tamara came into the kitchen, Tamara hanging onto his arm and laughing up at him. This time he didn’t detach her grip. In fact, he pulled her closer and brushed her tousled hair back with his other hand. Jessica put a cup down on the bench with enough of a bang to let them know they weren’t alone. Nick looked up.
‘Oh, hi Jessica,’ he said, very casually. ‘You’re here early, too. I just gave Tamara a lift here so she could try on one of the promo t-shirts.’ He smiled down at Tamara. ‘We’ll make sure you get one without a real knife in the back.’
Jessica thought that a mistake, but whatever. ‘Clara-Jane’s not here yet. Do you need me to unlock Wardrobe for you?’
He frowned. ‘Doesn’t my key open Wardrobe? I guess it doesn’t. Oh, all right then.’
Jessica ran easily up the narrow stairs to the wardrobe department and unlocked the door, while Nick and Tamara playfully squashed against each other, slowly climbing the steps. She let them pass her at the door and immediately headed down again, unwilling to be a part of whatever game Nick was playing. Let them fool around any way they wanted, as long as they put down a dustsheet and didn’t mess up the costumes. She hoped Clara-Jane wouldn’t be too annoyed that Jessica had let them loose in her domain. It was a relief to have Nick’s attention focused on someone else, but did it have to be Tamara? That was almost insulting.
Arriving at the theatre, Clara-Jane was genuinely horrified on hearing Jessica’s confession. She dropped her purple velvet shoulder bag on the Green Room floor and gasped.
‘He’s doing what? With her? That stupid, stupid man. I really thought he had more sense, not to mention more taste. What is he thinking?’ She shook her head. ‘No, he isn’t thinking. Not with his brain, anyway.’ She looked sideways at Jessica. ‘You don’t look too concerned about it.’
‘No, I’m not. Nick was getting a bit intense, actually. I’m glad he’s found another target. I just wish it wasn’t Tamara because there’s no way it’ll last beyond the end of next week.’
‘Oh, you don’t know that. Perhaps she’s finally found a love that’ll last her a lifetime.’
They chuckled.
Clara-Jane eyed Jessica thoughtfully. ‘Just to satisfy my curiosity – why don’t you like the idea of going out with Nick? He’s a nice guy, and he seemed pretty keen on you till you slammed the door in his face, so to speak. Just what is it that you’re looking for, girl?’
Jessica considered for a moment.
‘Someone who’s got more to them than just a pretty face. A guy who’s got presence as well as charm. Nick always strikes me as being so smooth and polished that you can’t see beyond the surface; and there might be nothing much there anyway. I don’t know, maybe I’m being a bit harsh, but that’s my gut feeling. Perhaps it’s because he’s in advertising – he seems all image and façade.’ She rested her chin on her hand. ‘What am I looking for? A grown-up, I guess. A man with some history and some depth.’
‘And yet,’ said Clara-Jane teasingly, ‘a man who’s still in touch with his inner child, with a wicked sense of humour. Let’s face it Jessica, you need someone who can appreciate your occasional inspired lunacy.’
The wardrobe door slammed shut and stairs creaked overhead as footsteps descended.
Nick ushered Tamara into the Green Room with a proprietary air, beating out a drum roll on the doorframe.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, our new promotions model, Miss Tamara Fitzpatrick!’
Tamara pulled the small t-shirt even tighter and jiggled her boobs. Across her prominent chest were the ever-so-slightly distorted words “The Regent Theatre has an appointment…”
She turned round to display the knife-handle protruding from her back, above the words “an Appointment with Death!”
Despite her feelings about the model, Jessica was impressed.
‘How did you get the knife to stick out like that, Clara-Jane?’
‘It’s only plastic. I just melted it a bit and bent the blade at right-angles halfway down, then glued it in place. Works well, doesn’t it?’
‘It’s going to get us a lot of attention,’ said Nick. Tamara slapped his arm playfully. ‘And Tamara will obviously catch every guy’s eye. I’ll make sure we find ourselves in front of the press photographer a few times; our little model here will do the rest, I’m sure.’
‘I’m sure she will, too’ said Clara-Jane drily. ‘You’d better take it off now so that it doesn’t get crushed before the weekend, Tamara. No! Not right here! Go into one of the dressing rooms, girl. There’ll be mature gentlemen arriving any minute; let’s not risk their dicky tickers.’
Right on cue, Austin came through the stage door, brightening visibly at the sight of Tamara’s curvaceous lettering. He hurried over and made a big show of reading the slogan slowly and carefully, back and front.
‘If the theatre’s got an appointment, can I have the one afterwards?’
Tamara made a face and disappeared into the main dressing room.
‘I must be losing my touch,’ Austin smirked, ‘as the leper said to the actress. How are we, boys and girls? Ready for another night of dramatic intercourse?’
‘No, just a rehearsal I think, Austin,’ deadpanned Jessica. ‘Let’s go see if everyone has arrived, shall we?’ She spun him round and propelled him towards the stage door.
Onstage, Adam was gathering the cast.
Jessica left them to it and retraced her steps to the Green Room where Clara-Jane was laying out Nadine’s nurse-like outfit and some Arab costumes on the big props table.
‘I’ve figured it out,’ announced Clara-Jane. ‘He’s doing it to make you jealous. It’s the only explanation for such an obvious about-face.’
‘Oh hell, you could be right. Damn, just when I thought he was off my case.’ She picked up a headdress and pulled it over her eyes. ‘Can you direct me to the nearest camel, please, memsahib? I am wanting to be leaving this oasis pretty damn quick.’
‘Don’t play with the props, dear,’ Gert admonished automatically, as she walked past on the way to the downstairs props room. Jessica put the headdress back and followed Gert down the stairs to the low-ceilinged basement area where she and her band of props helpers created the many weird items needed on stage. Jessica prowle
d around the shelves, fingering masks and implements, until Gert asked her to stop.
‘What are you doing, Jessica?’
‘Oh, just hiding, I guess. Is there anything I can help you with down here? I’d like to stay out of the way for a while.’
‘Yes, all right dear. You could rub some stain on this wooden box, if you like.’ She handed Jessica a slim rectangular lidded box. ‘It’s the doctor’s medical case so we need it to look well-used and much-travelled. Rags are over there and the tin of stain is behind you on the tray.’
Jessica spent half an hour contentedly staining and polishing until the box was done. ‘There you are, Gert. Is that OK? I’d better go and check on the rehearsal, but thanks for the safe haven.’
‘Any time, Jessica. We can always use an extra pair of hands down here.’
Hoping to avoid running into Nick, Jessica took a route through the Green Room, letting herself out of the back door, then walked along the narrow alley that ran beside the theatre to the street out front. She came in through the main entrance, nipping smartly up the stairs to the circle, slipping into one of the private boxes. Since they were seldom used, they were empty of furnishings, except for the tattiest of the theatre’s old chairs. The advantage was that from the box she could see the stage without being seen herself, and wouldn’t distract the cast.
Centre stage, the Boynton family was grouped round a low table with Simone glowering at her fellow actors. The girl playing Ginevra was agitatedly tearing a tissue into little pieces.
‘Ginevra, go and rest, you’re tired.’ Simone’s sudden deep voice made even Jessica jump, and the effect on Ginevra was painful to see.
‘I’m not really tired, Mother. I’m all right.’
‘No, Ginevra,’ said Simone, sounding oddly pleased. ‘You’re going to be ill.’
‘No I won’t! I will not be ill!’
‘Go to your room and lie down.’