Under the Spotlight

by Bree Verity

Into the silence, Jane interceded in a voice of authority. “Because there’s no such thing as ghosts. And especially not ones that collect things from all different people.”

  Penny nodded. “Unless you particularly need it to get home, we’re going to hold on to all the items we’ve found today so the police can examine them. But if something belongs to you, can you let me know, so we can keep a list of who belongs to what.”

  The actors quietly lined themselves up to look at the goodies that had been stolen, as if they realized this time it wasn’t just a silly prank. Penny took names and identifications, only having to return Chris’ keys, so he could drive his car home. Everything else stayed in the pile. The actors slowly dissipated into smaller groups, murmuring amongst themselves. Penny could feel the tension in the air. Almost everyone had something in the pile this time.

  Marc looked over her shoulder at her list and pointed. “Only Cerise doesn’t have something here,” he said quietly in her ear.

  “I know.”

  “Makes her look pretty guilty.”

  Before she could answer, Chris said, striding over to where they were standing. “What was that? Who looks guilty?”

  Penny’s stomach dropped. “No-one,” she said. “You should all get ready for the second act.”

  “No way,” replied Chris. “If someone is guilty, I want to know who it is.” He raised his voice a little, and the other actors seemed to realize something was happening.

  “Stop it, Chris,” said Jane. “We’ll hand it over to the police, and they’ll look at it. We have a show to put on.”

  “Bullcrap.” Before she could stop him, Chris snatched the list out of Penny’s hand and looked at it. His eyes narrowed. “Might have known.” He looked up at Cerise. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

  There was silence in the greenroom. Cerise paled. “No,” she whispered.

  “But you’re the only one who hasn’t had anything stolen.”

  “And nothing of hers was stolen the last time either,” piped up Amber, rewarded with a scowl from Cerise.

  “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Sure it does. It means you’re a thief.”

  The burble of conversation grew louder, and Penny found herself watching Cerise’s face. The girl’s eyes had teared up, and her whole expression was bewildered. Either she was a really good actor (and she wasn’t), or she really was not guilty.

  But Chris led a swell of voices against Cerise. “You should go, Cerise,” he said, his melodious voice stern. “We don’t want you here.” A murmur of agreement passed through the crowd.

  “But I didn’t do it,” cried Cerise. “You have to believe me Chris.” She grabbed his arm, but he shook her off.

  “Liar,” he said. Cerise took a step back from him, horror dawning on her face. The tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  “Stop,” said Jane, coming to stand between them. “We don’t know it was Cerise, the police will investigate, and we have a show that starts in two weeks. Let’s all just concentrate on that.”

  “I’m not sure I could do that, Jane, knowing there’s a filthy little thief back here going through my stuff.” Cerise stared into Chris’ hard features, and Penny watched as her expression changed from bewilderment to resignation. The crowd behind him shifted, uncomfortable with the standoff between their leading man and lady, but apparently ready to back Chris up.

  Jane was about to reply when Cerise put a hand on her arm. “It’s alright, Jane,” she said quietly. “I’ll go. It’ll be better for the show if I do. I hope you catch whoever really did it.”

  Penny could only watch as Cerise silently picked up her bag. She never really liked her, but she would swear she was innocent. She didn’t know what to do. Marc’s strong arms came around her, and the entire cast and crew watched Cerise leave.

  For a few moments following her exit, there was quiet. Then, Penny was startled by the clap of Jane’s hands.

  “Okay people, ten minutes ‘til we start Act Two. Amber? Can you stand in for Cerise?” Amber, her eyes shining, agreed.

  Penny smiled sadly. No matter what happened, the show must go on.

  But she had to find out what happened. For Cerise’s sake.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Penny couldn’t help but throw her arms around Marc when he arrived to pick her up the following Saturday.

  “You are a sight for sore eyes,” she sighed against his shoulder. And he was. Dressed in blue jeans and a tight black tee that showed off his compact, muscular frame, he looked good enough to eat.

  He held her close, chuckling. “You only saw me on Thursday.”

  “I know, but it feels like forever.”

  “Me too,” he said, and Penny felt his arms tighten a little more. She smiled, comfort from Marc’s warmth radiating into her.

  But all too soon he let her go, saying, “We should get going if we’re going to get to the gig on time.” With a quick kiss, he moved away to the driver’s side of his black Mazda CX7, and Penny opened the passenger side, hefting herself up into the SUV.

  Marc had a casual gig singing with a band, and tonight they were performing at one of Perth’s trendy venues. Penny, vaguely watching the ripple of his arm muscles as he buckled up his seat belt, wondered how he managed to fit everything in - work and theater and singing - but Marc seemed to have the gift of taking everything in his stride.

  Or did he? As he started the engine, Penny recalled his annoyance when she couldn’t give him the details of her fight with her parents. Her mum had started to talk to her again, but it still awkward. Everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells, even Dave and Kellie who didn’t know what was going on. No one had spoken about the abortion at all.

  She hadn’t spoken about that or anything else to Marc either. And he hadn’t asked.

  Maybe, Penny thought, Desiree and Lydia were right. Maybe she should talk about it to him.

  Since Renaldo’s betrayal, Penny hadn’t been quick to trust anyone, let alone the guys lining up for the job of boyfriend.

  But she trusted Marc. She had come to trust him. Even before they were together, she knew she could rely on him.

  She felt a warm glow in her chest and looked over to him to smile.

  He glanced at her before returning his attention to the road.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

  He smiled and snagged her hand, bringing it to his lips. “I’m glad you’re glad.”

  She laughed and made a decision.

  She would tell him. About the panic attacks, her abortion, the lot.

  Not right now. They were on the way to a gig. That wasn’t something she wanted on Marc’s mind when he was up on the stage.

  But she would tell him. Soon.

  She awoke the next day feeling as if an enormous weight had been lifted off her. The light behind her eyes was soft, it was late afternoon. She felt Marc’s muscular arm behind her neck and around her shoulder, and she smiled, feeling safe.

  The gig had gone fantastically the night before, and they had stayed out late with the other band members. Penny was friends with Amanda, who was the girlfriend of one of the brass players, Aidan, and it had been great to be able to catch up with her.

  She opened her eyes to find herself too close to Marc’s sleeping face to be able to focus. She shifted her head back a little, which woke Marc out of his slumber.

  She could have devoured him for his rumpled, sleepy smile, right there.

  “Hey sweet,” he said, his voice murky.

  “Hey you.”

  “What time is it?”

  “I think it’s two-ish. We’ve slept the morning away.”

  “Mmmm.” He gently tugged on the arm that was around Penny’s neck and she lifted her head slightly, so he could pull it out from behind her. Her head slumped back down on the pillow as he stretched both arms up above his head, one of his elbows cracking forcefully.

  Penny hated that sound. She winced and
said, “Do they do that all the time?”

  “Yep,” he replied. “Elbows, knees, ankles. You better get used to it, sweet, cos there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  Penny wrinkled her nose and grinned. “I guess I can put up with it.”

  “You guess?” He smiled and raised a single eyebrow but before she could respond, he stretched again, and asked, “Where’s the bathroom?”

  Penny pointed. “It’s that door on the left. Not the right one. If you go in the right one you’ll pee on all my clothes, and I promise I won’t be happy about that.”

  “Fair enough too,” he responded, slipping out of bed and padding to the bathroom. She propped herself up on one elbow. Watching his backside as he walked away had Penny’s juices flowing immediately. “Hurry back,” she called. “I’m gonna need to get me some more of that.”

  He turned his head and gave her a cheeky smile before closing the bathroom door.

  Penny sighed and lay back, satisfaction drawn deeply into her smile. How could she ever have thought Marc would be just a friend? When he’d proven himself repeatedly to be so much more?

  She wondered when the time would present itself to tell him about her past. Now that she had decided to do so, she was eager to share with him. But it hadn’t been something she was going to talk about in amongst all his band mates last night, and when she drove home, he was more than a little drunk. And she was far too horny to think about other things than getting Marc quietly into her room and naked in her bed.

  And right now, in the light of early afternoon, there were more important things to think about as well - things involving his impressive equipage, and how when he used it in a certain way, it drove Penny to the edge of madness. Heat pooled low in her belly and she felt the welcome warm slickness coat the inside of her channel. She arranged herself under the sheet with her knees splayed wide open so that he could throw it back and see her, spread open wide to receive him. She thought he would find that sexy, and she was so hot for him, she didn’t think she would need any foreplay whatsoever to start with.

  It took ages for Marc to return. He opened the bathroom door and immediately, Penny knew something was different. She straightened herself up. “What is it? Are you okay?”

  In his hand, Marc held her anti-depressant medication. He looked up at Penny and she was stunned to find his face arranged in a scowl. “What’s this?” He moved over to the bed.

  She held her arm out and he dropped the box in her hand. “It’s my medication. It’s nothing serious.” She looked at the box - Duloxetine, 30mg.

  “You didn’t tell me you had depression.” He stood by the bed, his jaw working. Penny couldn’t work out what was wrong.

  “I don’t.”

  “That’s why they prescribe that stuff, Penny. For depression.”

  “It’s temporary. I don’t have depression, Marc. I just have some things happening.” He looked at her disbelievingly and she said, “I was going to tell you.”

  “Yeah, I know. When you were ready.”

  Marc sighed deeply, running a hand along the side of his face and around the back of his neck. For a long moment he was silent, then he started to speak.

  “I thought I could do this, Pen, I really did. But finding those in there, I’m just not sure that I can.” Marc sat on the bed. He didn’t seem to be able to look her in the eye.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Mental illness.”

  “What about it?”

  “I’m not sure I can deal with yours.”

  “But I’m fine.” She put a hand on his arm, which, to her surprise, he shook off. “I’m improving every day.”

  “Are you? Because Leanne was fine. She was always fine. Then one day, she picked up every pill that every doctor has ever prescribed her and took all of them. Anti-d’s, sleeping tablets, muscle relaxants, Valium…” He stopped, his voice choked with tears, and Penny’s heart went out to him. He put his head in his hands, and Penny crawled over the bed to hug him from behind, laying her head on his shaking back.

  They sat like that for a few minutes, Marc shuddering with tears, and Penny listening to his breathing and his heart through his back and wondering whether now was the time to talk to him about her issues.

  Then he sat up and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hands. Penny sat upright, waiting for him to talk.

  “Sorry,” he said with a wry smile. “I haven’t cried like that for ages.”

  “I can see why you would,” offered Penny, but Marc’s smile had already disappeared. He turned to her, tucking one foot under himself, and taking her hands.

  “I can’t date you, Penny. I promised myself I wouldn’t ever date another person with mental illness. It’s just too hard.”

  “But I don’t have mental illness, Marc.”

  He didn’t seem convinced. “Those attacks? They were panic attacks, weren’t they?”

  Penny didn’t need to reply.

  “That’s a mental illness, Pen. Whether you want it to be or not. And whatever it is, anxiety or social phobia or whatever, I’m just not equipped to deal with it.”

  “You won’t even try?”

  “I just can’t.” He seemed drained of energy.

  “Even though what we have is amazing?” A single tear slid down Penny’s face. Marc reached up to cup her face in his hand and wipe it away with his thumb.

  “I wish things could be different, sweet.” He kissed her softly, on the lips. “What we had was definitely amazing.”

  “Had?” Penny pulled away from his caress, anger building up inside her like a rocket about to explode. “You’ve already written it off?”

  “Don’t you get it? I. Can’t. Do. This. It’s already written off.”

  Penny was speechless. She blinked several times, her mouth open, but no words coming out. Then, the rocket exploded. “Get out.”

  “Pen, we can still be friends…”

  “I said get out. Of my house. Of my life. Just… fuck off, Marc and leave me alone.” She turned her back on him, tears coursing down her cheeks. She heard him scuffling around, putting the rest of his clothes and his shoes on, and then the clink of his keys as he fished them out of his pocket. The bed dipped, and Penny closed her eyes, only feeling the kiss Marc pressed to her temple.

  “Bye Pen. Call me later, okay?”

  She wanted to shout at him, “I’ll never speak to you again!” but she knew the words were pointless. They still had to finish the season at the theater. But when that was done, oh boy, she would give him the silent treatment like no one had ever known. He deserved it, for making her fall for him, for taking her to the moon and the stars and back again, and then leaving. How selfish was he. It was all take, take, take, never any give. She was glad he was gone. Glad.

  No, she wasn’t. She threw herself face down on the bed, great heaving cries leaving her body. The pillows and sheets all smelled like him, like them. Penny took in great lungfuls of his scent. She would never forget the way he loved her, the way he looked her in the eye as he took her, the breathtaking movement of him inside her. She would never forget - and she would never forgive him for offering her everything, and then taking it all away again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After a dreadful night’s sleep, Penny’s alarm went off at eight-thirty, an ungodly hour for a Sunday morning. She groaned and switched it off, thinking she must have set it wrong. Then she remembered that today was bump-in at the theater.

  Bump-in had to be choreographed nearly as well as the performance itself. It was when the group got the theater ready for audiences.

  For Penny, it meant getting the stage prepared for performance - all remaining walls built and painted, doors and windows fitted, curtains hung and all the bits and pieces that had been gathering backstage since the start of rehearsals either given a place or put away. Others would be setting up the auditorium with raked seating or preparing the kitchen to make a couple of hundred cups of tea and coffee over the performa
nce period. And still others would be organizing the green room - making sure all the costumes were in the right places, labeled with the right names, and that everyone was assigned to a dressing room.

  She and Jane had managed a bunch of bump-ins over the years, and usually for Penny it was an exhausting but exhilarating day, as the stage transformed under the hands of half a dozen willing and cheerful volunteers.

  Today, she could barely bring herself to get in the shower and get dressed to go. She picked up a Grande Latte on her way there from the local Muzz Buzz. It wasn’t anywhere near as good as Greens, but it woke her up a little. That was all it did though. She still felt raw and bruised.

  Of course, Marc was there. All the crew would always appear for bump-in, even if the actors sometimes thought it was beneath them. But even if Marc hadn’t been there, Penny would still have preferred to stay at home. All her nerves were tingling, and she felt like a coiled spring, ready to fly off at the slightest provocation. She felt like a panic attack waiting to happen.

  So, of course, the day provided her with more and more reasons for her temper to explode. Amber and the girls were there but getting them to actually do anything except gossip was next to impossible. There were two or three of the older members of the cast, which relieved Penny somewhat, but Chris was there as well. And usually, at bump-in, Chris was a walking disaster area. Penny was just waiting for something to happen, her nerves stretched to breaking point.

  While working, she tried out Dr. Johnson’s breathing exercises, as well as the mindfulness techniques she had learned. To her surprise, they did help. A little. But they couldn’t help when things actually did go wrong.

  It started when Penny was holding a sizeable piece of plasterboard in place, up on a wall. She needed to fix the plasterboard to the framework behind it, then it could be painted to look like a wall. She turned to grab the electric screwdriver, so she could fix it. But it wasn't there, where she had put it down only moments ago. And to her irritation, it was nowhere close by. It was as if it had vanished.

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