by Lynsey James
‘Sounds like Christabel’s trying to tell Lauren she’s not being demure enough,’ I whispered. ‘She was fine when I was directing her!’
Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘Christabel was always picking on Lauren. No idea why, everyone else thought she was fine. I think she even sent her off the stage in tears one day.’
I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth. ‘There’s no bloody need for that! And she wonders why everyone ends up walking out.’
‘Exactly, and that’s why you need to go back in and take control. Come on, you can do this!’
She took my hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. I took a deep breath, wondered for a second what the hell I was doing, then put my hand on the door handle. This was it; this was the moment that would make or break everything.
In a split second, I’d turned the handle and thrown the door open. I looked at all the pairs of eyes on me and my initial reaction was to turn and run. If Lucy hadn’t been clasping my hand tightly, I probably would’ve done just that.
‘And just what do you think you’re doing here?’ Christabel’s eyes bored into me from the stage. If looks could kill, I’d have been a dead woman walking. ‘I thought I told you three days ago that we didn’t want you around here any more.’
‘I haven’t come here for an argument, Christabel; we’ve done enough of that over the last few weeks haven’t we? I’ve come to ask if I can direct the panto again.’
Christabel burst out into a cold, cruel laugh that echoed through the entire auditorium and gave the room a distinctly spooky air. She’d be perfect to hire out for hauntings.
‘You want to direct the pantomime, after everything you’ve done? I don’t think so, my girl. Besides, we’ve managed quite well without your input.’
‘So why did I just hear you and Lauren having a massive row?’ I shot back. ‘Face it, you can’t do this on your own. How about we do it together? The last thing I want to do is force you out again, so we could work together and make the pantomime great. What do you say?’
‘So you can just get rid of me when things don’t go your way? No way. This is my panto, nobody else’s, and I won’t let you take it away from me again!’
‘Christabel, nobody’s trying to take anything away from you!’ I was surprised to see Callum shoot out of his seat to confront her. ‘Alice might not have come across very well the other day, but she cares about this pantomime. Like it or not, she was a bloody good director and we need all the help we can get.’
Christabel’s nose crinkled and her top lip curled. I knew she’d probably hate hearing that she wasn’t the panto world’s answer to Nora Ephron, especially from her own cast.
‘OK, OK, I suppose I can find a role for Alice to fill, if you really want her to come back. It won’t be a co-director role because I feel I can manage perfectly well without one, but it’ll be something equally important, probably a performing role.’
Oh bollocks.
‘Um, couldn’t it be something backstage?’ I squeaked. ‘I-I don’t perform any more.’
‘Nope, all the backstage roles are filled.’ Christabel’s face broke into a syrupy-sweet smile. I found it hard to believe there were no roles backstage, given the amount of people she’d managed to drive away. ‘But we’ve got a really integral part for you to play, if you want it? Without it, the whole production will fall apart.’
I exchanged glances with Lucy. ‘You mean the fairy godmother? I-I don’t know about that, I reckon Lucy would do that part more justice than me…’
The look on Christabel’s face made me clamp my mouth shut.
‘Fairy godmother wasn’t really what I had in mind. The part I’m talking about is a bit…a bit simpler than that. You won’t even have to speak. Although there’s an element of, erm, teamwork involved too.’
An uneasy feeling grew in my stomach. I didn’t like the way this was heading; it would probably end up with me being horribly humiliated in front of the whole village. Christabel was out for blood, after all.
‘OK,’ I said with more than a little trepidation, ‘what’s the part?’
A gleeful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. I could tell she was savouring the news she was about to deliver. She rubbed her hands together and her gaze wandered to the stage.
‘I think I’ll leave it to the person you’ll be, ahem, sharing your part with to explain everything. We’re ready for you now, Mr Fox.’
Mr Fox?! Bugger, bugger, bugger!
Right on cue like the consummate professional he was, Ethan bounded out onto the stage. His bright, beaming smile shrank considerably when he saw me, but he maintained his composure. He took some steps towards me, but stopped at a safe distance.
‘So you’re the one I’ll be sharing my ass with.’
‘Your what now?’
‘That’s right,’ Christabel chipped in, ‘you two will both be playing the part of the ass that transforms into the coachman and transports Cinderella to the ball, where she meets her handsome prince! When I asked him if he’d like to participate in our little production, he jumped at the chance to be a part of our show. It’s so nice when successful actors get involved with community theatre isn’t it? Shows they don’t think it’s beneath them.’ Christabel was enjoying this way too much for my liking.
Before I’d come to see about taking part in the panto again, I’d been convinced things couldn’t get any worse. Between them, Ethan and Christabel had just proven they could. Part of me wanted to refuse; I didn’t want to get into a sweaty donkey costume anyway, and especially not with Ethan after everything that had happened. However, I’d let the cast down once before and I didn’t want to do it again; they meant far too much to me. So, whether I liked it or not, I’d be playing an ass with Ethan Fox.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I’d done a lot of daft things in the name of theatre during my career. I’d played a tree that liked to sing show tunes, a dancing rug and even a ragdoll with mystical powers (don’t ask).
However, being stuffed inside a donkey costume with Ethan’s nose poking me in the bum every few minutes was just about the daftest.
‘Will you stay still?’ I hissed. ‘It’s hot enough in here as it is! Why did she insist we had a bloody dress rehearsal today? I’m sure we didn’t need to try on the costume that badly! Oh, and it’s supposed to be a horse, not a donkey!’
‘True,’ Ethan agreed as he wriggled round again in a fruitless attempt to get comfortable. ‘But then I wouldn’t be able to say I was sharing my ass with you, so there’s that.’
There was none of that trademark warmth and humour in his voice. I guessed he was trying to make the best of a horrible and very uncomfortable situation. I was in the same boat; not only did I have to deal with being in a confined space with the man I’d spent such a lovely time with, I also had my fears of performing again to deal with. The strangled “yes” to Christabel’s request had popped out of my mouth before I’d had a chance to properly think about it.
‘Why did I agree to this?’ I groaned. ‘I wanted to be part of the panto, but not this bad! More to the point, why did you agree to this?!’
He sighed. ‘For your scintillating conversation, obviously.’
‘Cut the sarcasm, Ethan. Why?’
‘I did it to see if I could help you. I thought maybe if I got involved, I could convince Christabel to give you another chance. Stupid, I know. You know, it might help if you let me go at the front. I am the taller one, after all, and it’s a bit cramped back here.’
I wanted to smile at his kind gesture, but didn’t. I was way too angry with him for what had happened.
‘Thank you,’ I said stiffly, ‘but I managed to get one on my own.’ I hated how horrible I sounded, but I could still hear his words in my head: at least now you can go back to shutting everyone out like you used to. They stung, much as I hated to admit it.
‘Yeah I can see that,’ he replied, some of that trademark warmth creeping back in. ‘Well done. It must’ve taken guts to stan
d up to Christabel.’
I swallowed. ‘Yeah, it wasn’t easy but it felt pretty good too.’
Ethan moved again and almost sent us toppling over. I let out a grunt of frustration as I tried to keep upright. As if being stuck in a confined space with Ethan wasn’t bad enough, I didn’t want a load of cuts and bruises thrown in for good measure.
‘Look,’ I said as the last time we’d seen each other played on my mind, ‘if we’re going to do this, maybe we should clear the air between us. We both said things we weren’t proud of, didn’t we?’
Ethan didn’t answer right away. Silence in such a small space couldn’t be anything other than awkward.
‘Yeah you’re right. Although we’d better make it quick because I’m leaving for LA soon.’
I tried to whip my head round to look at him, but there wasn’t enough room and I almost sent us flying backwards.
‘Is that for the audition your agent called you about?’
‘That’s the one.’ His tone was clipped and curt, like he’d rather stick pins in his eyes than continue talking to me. The warmth I’d thought I could hear when he’d congratulated me on standing up to Christabel had vanished, like he was too afraid to let his guard down and relax around me. In a way I didn’t blame him; we’d said some awful things to each other. It just hurt that the closeness between us didn’t seem to be there any more.
‘I’m sure Sarah’s excited to go to LA. Has she been before?’
‘Alice, for God’s—’
Christabel’s voice booming through a loudhailer cut off what he was going to say.
‘We’re done for the day,’ she announced. ‘I’d say your performances were adequate, but I’d be lying!’
‘Who gave that woman a megaphone?’ I muttered. ‘Still, at least we can get out of this costume.’
Ethan freed us from the sweatbox and we both took in great lungfuls of air when we emerged.
‘What were you two doing in there?’ Eileen asked with a cheeky wink. ‘Sounded like things were getting a bit hot and heavy.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Mostly trying not to fall over in that bloody costume! Where did she get it? Does she not know there isn’t a donkey in Cinderella?’
‘Don’t,’ Eileen put her hand up and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘I’ve tried to tell her that, but she got it cheap and said the audience probably won’t know the difference. It’ll be all my fault if they twig, of course.’
Eileen went off backstage, her crushed velvet green gown trailing in her wake. She looked every inch the pantomime villainess; I could almost hear the boos and hisses she’d garner from the audience. It was just a shame she wouldn’t be able to sing Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) like I’d planned. I hadn’t told her about the song I’d planned for her; I’d been leaving it as a surprise for the day everything had gone spectacularly wrong.
My heart sank, but I tried not to let it show. Cinderella the Musical was just a dream I’d had one day. It hadn’t been happening at the beginning of the year and it wasn’t happening now.
‘You OK?’ Ethan asked, his face reddening as soon as the words left his mouth.
‘Yeah I’m fine!’ My response came out harsher than I’d meant it to. ‘Look I’ll see you later, OK?’
I hurried out of the theatre as fast as I could, desperate to get away from the worst decision I’d ever made. Being squashed in a confined space with the man I kind of still had feelings for was bad enough; the fact it was going to be on a stage in front of the entire village made things a hundred times worse.
I’d really got myself into a mess this time.
*
Luckily for me, there was a silver lining to the donkey costume fiasco: my Christmas shopping trip with Lucy and Emily. Despite my vow never to celebrate the festive season, I was weirdly looking forward to it. I still had to buy Christmas gifts for my family, after all, and spending time with the girls would make it fun.
Fox’s was a Christmas-lover’s heaven when we walked in. Instead of the ghost town I’d seen when I was last here, it had been totally transformed into a festive paradise. The grotto was back, the gifts section was even more impressive than it usually was, and there were a selection of stalls near the food hall selling Christmas cookies, hot cider and mince pies. The best part of the whole transformation, however, was the gigantic Christmas tree that reached right up to the store’s domed roof. It was decorated with red and gold baubles and there was a huge pile of presents underneath. Even the most hardened Scrooge would feel the festive warmth wash over them.
‘Wow look at it in here,’ Emily breathed. ‘It’s absolutely gorgeous! Shall we go and get some cookies and cider before we start our shopping?’
Lucy and I nodded in agreement and we headed over to the stalls, which had massive queues of people lining up to get their hands on Fox’s Christmassy treats. The smells ensnared my senses and I even began to feel a little bit festive. Only a little bit though.
The one thing that puzzled me about it all was where had they got the money. Gary had said it himself, the store was losing money, and I’d heard Ethan discussing it with his dad. They certainly couldn’t afford to put on a display like this without help. I was distracted from my thoughts by the stall vendor asking me what I’d like. I’d been so busy pondering how Fox’s had managed such a dramatic makeover that I hadn’t noticed myself move to the front of the queue.
‘Oh, um, three hot ciders please!’ I said, rummaging round in my purse for money. I fished out a crumpled £10 note and handed it over. The vendor replaced it with a tray of hot ciders.
Emily waved at me from the table she and Lucy had managed to snag. I noticed she already had our cookies and mince pies. Weaving my way deftly through the crowd and being careful not to spill any of the cider, I joined them.
‘Wow it’s mad in here!’ I said, setting the tray down on the table. ‘Look at all these people!’
‘I know, there’s hardly room to swing a cat!’ Lucy took charge and dished out everyone’s cookies and mince pies. ‘Wasn’t like this when I was last here; I even wondered if I was in the right shop!’
‘It’s funny,’ I said, ‘when I got sacked, the manager said the store was in huge financial trouble. Can’t think where they would’ve got the money for something like this.’
A huge gravelly ‘Ho, ho, ho!’ distracted me. It was edged with years and years of smoking and drinking whisky. I’d know that voice anywhere: Frank was back!
‘Guys, I’ll be back in a minute; there’s someone I’ve got to go and see.’
I jumped out of my seat and dashed across to the grotto. It was on the other side of the store, but I made it there in seconds. A peer inside confirmed my theory: Frank was sitting, pride of place, on his golden throne and wearing that famous red suit and white beard. He looked decidedly better than he had when I’d last seen him. The whiff of whisky wasn’t meeting me at the grotto entrance this time around. He caught sight of me and waved me over when the last kid in the queue walked out.
‘Long time no see!’ He smiled and I could see his eyes crease at the sides.
‘Look at you! You look great. When did you start back here?’
I grabbed a beanbag that was usually used for the shy kids who didn’t feel brave enough to sit on Santa’s lap and plonked myself down on it.
‘A couple of days ago,’ Frank answered. ‘The store seemingly had a huge cash injection and they could afford to reopen the grotto. No idea where it came from, but it’ll tide me over until Christmas. What’ve you been doing since they showed you the door?’
I could feel my cheeks redden; I wondered if they were glowing in the grotto’s soft lighting.
‘Believe it or not, I’m involved in the local pantomime!’ I laughed. ‘I’m playing the front of a donkey.’
Frank’s bushy eyebrows rose then fell. ‘Oh I thought you’d be back on Broadway or something. I heard that’s what you used to do a few years ago.’
‘Yeah I did, but I stopped perf
orming after my boyfriend died.’ I stopped as I realised that was the first time I’d said those words out loud and not made up some pathetic excuse. Even with Ethan, I’d lied about it at first. ‘To be honest, I’m thinking of dropping out. I haven’t been on stage for three years and even though I’ll be in a donkey costume, I don’t think I can do it.’
A sad smile formed on Frank’s craggy face. ‘I know what that’s like. When my wife died five years ago, I didn’t know how to be alone. We’d been together since we were sixteen and when she was gone, I went to pieces. Lost my job as a site manager and started drinking to get through every day. I gave up everything I loved: pub quiz league with my friends, trips to the stock car racing, even painting.’
My eyes widened. ‘I never knew you painted!’
He shrugged and blew air out from his cheeks. ‘That’s because I don’t any more. To me, that was something I did when Cathy was alive and I didn’t want to enjoy it without her. It felt like I was betraying her. Don’t make the same mistake I made, Alice. Go back to doing what you love while you still can. It’s too late for me; I doubt I could pick up a paintbrush in the same way again. But you can get back on that stage and show everyone what you’re made of.’
‘Thanks, Frank.’ A little lump formed in my throat but I managed to swallow it down before I started to cry. ‘For what it’s worth, I reckon you could give Picasso a run for his money any day.’
He shook his head. ‘Nah I’ve addled my brain too much, I think. I’ve given up the whisky though; my daughter told me she’s expecting my first grandchild next year and I didn’t want him or her having a drunk for a granddad. It’s bloody hard, but I’m just taking it a day at a time.’
I felt my heart completely melt. Here was someone who’d been through the exact same thing I had – giving up his passion after losing someone he loved – and he was ready to make a change. He wanted better than the life he’d created around his grief and he had the perfect reason to do it.