A Midsummer Night's Scream jj-15

by Jill Churchill

  "I asked her to be ready at quarter to one," Ms. Bunting said in the haughty voice of Mrs. Edina Weston.

  "I'll remind her, madam," he said and turned briefly to the audience and said, "The old trout" "What did you say?" Imry asked.

  "Said? Nothing," Bill said.

  Jane thought it was funny but also a bit spooky that Bill Denk could cast his voice to the audience but not be heard on stage.

  There was no need for Jane and Shelley to be introduced to the newcomers, but they were sur‑

  prised to see one familiar figure. It was Tazz from the needlepoint lesson they'd taken the day before.

  Tazz greeted them after putting a dress bag over an adjoining chair with great care. "I didn't expect to run into you two here," she said with a smile as she sat down in the back row of the theater, where Jane and Shelley had taken refuge until the caterers arrived.

  "Nor did we expect you," Jane said with pleasure.

  "We're here to test out caterers for my husband's business dinners," Shelley explained. "They're just making snack suppers for the cast and crew. And you, Tazz? What's your role here?"

  "I do the costumes for most of the local productions, and a few costume parties. Mostly around Halloween."

  "How did you happen into such an interesting job?" Jane asked.

  "I was studying accounting, and decided I'd probably slit my throat from sheer boredom if I had to be an accountant. So, since I'd always sewed my own clothes, I started sewing for other people. Word got around that I was good at period stuff. So — here I am."

  "Do you make all the costum'es for every play and party?" Shelley asked.

  "No. Only special things I don't already have warehoused. When I can, I build in extra hemroom, and bosom room in the women's clothes in particular. Sometimes I rent from other costume places if something is too elaborate to use often."

  "I just love hearing about other people's jobs," Jane exclaimed. "I've never met anyone who does what you do. I'll bet you have good stories. Sometime when we're all free of this job, I hope you'll have more time to tell us about your experiences."

  "I'd be glad to. Now I need to snag everyone for measurements. I guess I'll see you two at tomorrow's needlepoint class."

  "Yes, and Ms. Bunting is joining us as well."

  "I thought the class was limited to five students," Tazz replied.

  "We got her in because she was once in a play with Sylvia Sidney," Jane explained.

  "Oh, that makes sense. I have a copy of Sylvia Sidney's needlepoint book," Tazz said. "I'd love to hear what she was really like, aside from acting and needlepointing."

  "I probably have the same book," Jane said. "Did she do more than one?"

  "I have no idea," Tazz said.

  "I'm sure we would all like to hear what Ms. Bunting knows about her," Shelley agreed. "What's in the dress bag?"

  "Ms. Bunting's dress for the first act. I already met with her at her hotel, and it was easy to size her up without taking all the measurements.

  Later, we'll try it on and get the director's approval. And he better approve it. It's going to look grand on her."

  As she spoke, Bill Denk, using his old-man voice, returned to the stage. "Madam, Cook says she will have luncheon ready at a quarter before one."

  "Of course she will. That was what she was told," Ms. Bunting, as Edina Weston, replied.

  "Bossy broad could have thanked me," he said to the theater.

  Again, Imry questioned him. "Did you say something not in the script?"

  Denk shrugged. "I don't think so."

  "All right. I'll play along," Professor Imry said condescendingly. "But don't you try to get away with snide asides when we do this play for a real audience."

  Bill just smiled.

  Jane nudged Shelley and said quietly, "He's the only thing that might save this awful play."

  Shelley nodded. "I wonder how he does it? I've never seen anyone who could throw his voice so well."

  "And we both know he's going to keep doing it," Jane said.

  Six

  Tazz asked Jane to keep an eye on the dress bag and walked up on the stage. "Forgive me for the interruption, Professor Imry, but I'm the costumer, Tazz Tinker, and I have things I need to tell the cast. Are they all here?"

  "We're missing a few still. Denny's not here yet. And the prop person will be fifteen minutes late."

  "I don't need to dress the prop person." Imry gave an embarrassed fake laugh.

  "Okay, listen up, actors," Tazz went on, "I'll be measuring all but Ms. Bunting today. I've already found two dresses for her, providing the director agrees. When the measuring is done, I'll find the right size and period clothing for day wear and formal evening wear for the last scene. When each costume is ready to be worn, it will be signed for by the actor who wears it. You will all wear underarm shields that I provide for free. Both perspiration and deodorant are the worst

  enemies of fabric. If you sweat on the fabric or get makeup on the collar, you will be asked to get it dry-cleaned. If I rent it from a supplier, the college will pay for cleaning and laundry. If it belongs to me, it will be at your own cost. If the stain process doesn't work, you pay for the garment."

  "I don't think this is the usual way costumers deal with cast clothing," Imry claimed.

  "It's the way I work. Take it or leave it," Tazz said. "If you'd done your homework, you'd have known my conditions of providing costumes. I sent you a copy of my rules and you signed them. Now, Professor Imry, I read an early version of the script and didn't notice a police officer as a member of the cast. Has that been fixed?"

  "No. The script doesn't call for one."

  Tazz looked at him with raised eyebrows. "This is a murder mystery script. In it the butler kills the younger son. You don't need a police presence?"

  "That's assumed to take place after the play is over," Imry said, clearly uncomfortable with her question.

  Tazz turned to Jane and Shelley, who had brought along the dress bag and were now sitting in the first row of audience chairs, stage left. Tazz rolled her eyes at them, then turned to Imry. "I see," she said in a flat, calm voice. "I'll measure the male actors first, since there are only the maid and Joani I need to get sizes for. Ms. Bunting'scostumes are already fitted. Now tell me your real names so I can draw up the contracts."

  "We're using the actors' stage names," Imry said.

  "I don't contract with fictional characters," Tazz said with a loud laugh. "Now, I recognize Mr. Bunting. Tell me who the other men are."

  Imry was forced to forgo his rule. He introduced all the actors by their real names.

  "And the man standing just off stage?" Tazz asked. "Is he a backstage worker?"

  "No. He's just here to observe."

  Jane whispered to Shelley, "Maybe he's a reporter and Imry doesn't want anyone to know it."

  "He's not taking notes," Shelley replied.

  "Maybe he has a tape recorder in his pocket," Jane responded. "Or…"

  "Or what?"

  "Never mind. It was a silly idea. If I turn out to be right, I'll tell you what it was."

  Just then, Denny arrived, flustered. "I had an exam that ran late. That's why I couldn't get here till now. I'm sure I aced it."

  The first walk-through rehearsal went well, as far as Jane and Shelley could tell, except for Bill Denk's improvising. There were no breaks, and the first two acts were done by the time the caterers arrived.

  Tazz, who had clearly taken a strong dislike to

  Imry, sat at the table questioning him as they ate. "So there isn't a police officer. When I read the script, there wasn't any explanation of why the butler murdered the younger son, either."

  "That's for the audience to decide for themselves," Imry said smugly.

  "Oh, like sophisticated artsy novels that leave the ending unresolved? That's plain lazy writing and too pretentious for the likes of me. I hate books like that," Tazz commented as she wolfed down her snack dinner. She appeared to be anxious to get
on with the measuring.

  "I read a book like that recently," Ms. Bunting chimed in. Her nap seemed to have completely revived her. "I threw it in the trash."

  "Did you throw my script in the trash, too?" Imry asked, obviously looking for an argument.

  "I know which side my bread is buttered on," Ms. Bunting said with a wicked smile. "I simply memorized it. That's my job."

  "I don't read many books," Joani put into the conversation, looking around for someone to express admiration of her view. Everybody ignored her.

  "This is good food, ladies," Jake, who played the younger son, said to Jane and Shelley, apparently eager to start a harmless discussion.

  Both the first two caterers 'had made sure to provide for hungry vegetarians, which Shelley was pleased to note in her files. The caterer lastnight had provided raw vegetables with several dipping sauces. Tonight the vegetables were lightly sautéed and served in one large bowl with a heating element under it. The dressing was a bit bland and could have used a good dose of fresh pepper, Jane whispered to Shelley.

  Tazz took her empty plate and glass back to the catering room and lurked until John Bunting had finished eating. She snatched his plate to return as well and said, "Come on, Mr. Bunting. I need to measure you."

  He leered at her.

  Jane sat down with Ms. Bunting. "Tazz is one of the people in the needlepoint class. You'll see her again tomorrow morning."

  "She's a strong-minded girl. I'll be curious to see what kind of sampler she's doing."

  "Have you started yours yet?" Jane asked.

  "Barely. I had such fun putting those pretty colors in the jewelry thing you girls bought me. I'll treasure it forever. I've done only one square. I'm sticking with simple squares for my first effort."

  Tazz gathered all the men in one large dressing room. "We're not having any witty remarks about inseams or dressing left or right. Got it? Just tell me the size of your trousers and jackets. I will measure across your shoulders and get the correct arm length. You'll all wear casual trousers circa 1930, shirts, and either jackets or sweaters

  for the first two acts. The third act will be formal wear. White starched shirts, white formal jackets, black trousers with a silk stripe down the sides."

  She finished this process quickly and efficiently, noting all the measurements in a notebook she carried.

  Then she cornered Ms. Bunting to try on both of the dresses Tazz had selected for her. Holding the dress bag, Jane was present as well. The everyday one for the first two acts was a drop-waisted pink silk dress with a long string of fake pearls. It had three-quarter-length sleeves. "Other jewelry will be decided on later," Tazz told the actress.

  Tazz then called in Imry to approve it. He even managed to eke out a compliment for Tazz on how well it suited the actress and the play.

  "The formal dress will be along the same lines, but with black sequins. Don't dare let anyone who smokes near you, Ms. Bunting," Tazz warned, "or the sequins might catch fire — they're notoriously flammable. Even though the sequined one is supposed to have been sprayed with a fire retardant. I haven't chosen jewelry because I don't think it's needed. Just wear your own wedding ring and maybe a pair of smooth silver bracelets."

  "You look like a queen," Jane said.

  "I feel like one," Ms. Bunting said, pirouetting in front of the three-sided mirror in her dressingroom. The skirt flared nicely. "I'll have to find an occasion to do this, just to show off."

  "I don't think the director will object to this," Tazz said. "We won't bother getting his approval of this one."

  The next morning, Jane called Ms. Bunting at her hotel and offered to pick her up and take her to the needlepoint class.

  "It's sweet of you to ask, but I have some shopping to do first, so I'll just take a cab. I have the owner's card with the address in my needlepoint bag. I'll see you then."

  Ms. Bunting was only a few moments late. She had a bag from a toy store. "For my grandchildren," she said. As she set the bag down, soft baby toys tumbled out. Jane bent over to pick them up and put them back.

  Martha introduced Ms. Bunting to the others, explaining that she, Martha, had bent the rules because Ms. Bunting was a famous actress who had known Sylvia Sidney, who was not only an actress but had written a very good needlepoint book.

  Tazz said, "Ms. Bunting and I have met before. I'm providing her costumes for the play she's going to be in in another week, right here in Chicago."

  Both Jane and Martha had brought along their copies of Sylvia Sidney's book. Everyone, even

  those who had never heard of Sylvia Sidney, passed it around and asked questions about her.

  Then they all pulled out their needlepoint work to show how they were coming along so far. Tazz's was the most complex. She'd done half of an American flag in the center, which would be surrounded by borders of stars and stripes in different stitches. They were all marked out on the canvas, and she had the kinds of stitches she was using on grid paper.

  Ms. Bunting had barely started, but she'd used the upper left corner to do a section of bargello stitches in the darkest shades of each of her three colors and said she intended to do the same stitch in the opposite corner with the lightest shades of the same three colors.

  Sam's consisted of fairly boring colors, and he'd stitched a little too tight, but he'd tackled some very complex stitches. "Don't worry," he assured the rest of them. "I know the first ones I did need to be ripped out."

  Shelley had tried to catch up with Jane and had done an elongated cashmere stitch with her medium colors.

  What most surprised Jane was that Elizabeth's looked the best, in spite of the muddy oranges, greens, and reds. She was way ahead of everyone else. She'd completed nearly a quarter of her project and used what looked like the most difficult stitches in the pattern book. There was an impressive Scotch plaid rectangle, which adjoined a long thin triangle of French knots.

  Jane smiled at Elizabeth, who was, in this case at least, every bit as competitive as Shelley.

  Seven

  Elizabeth turned out to be rather tactless, in spite of her seemingly upper-crust façade.

  After everyone had oohed and aahed over one another's work, Elizabeth said to Ms. Bunting, "Those cute toys must be for your great-grandchildren."

  "No. They're for my daughter's children." "My goodness. She must have had them quite late in life."

  Ignoring the obvious suggestion that Ms. Bunting must be at least in her nineties, Ms. Bunting said, "No, it was I who had my daughter late in life. I'd always wanted children, but suffered three miscarriages early in our marriage. I'd given up ever having children. Then, when I was forty-two, and doing a very silly movie in England, I found myself pregnant again. It was the worst movie I was ever in, but I was taking such good care of myself that I wasn't paying attention to what was going on around me."

  She continued, "John, of course, was deeply embarrassed at becoming a father at forty-three. I don't think, frankly, that he'd have enjoyed the role at any age."

  "So, was your daughter born in England?" Elizabeth persisted.

  "Unfortunately not. She was born on the ship on the way home. I was afraid to fly. By the time the terrible, endless film was done, I was seven and a half months along."

  "It must have been hard, raising a baby at that age. Did you keep acting?" Elizabeth asked.

  "I had to. It was the only skill I had," Ms. Bunting said, picking out colors for her next sampler block. "Besides, John and I earned our living acting together. I took along a day nanny and a night nanny, then later both nannies and a teacher. It was very expensive and we had to work even harder to afford the help. I came as close as this," she said, holding her forefinger and her thumb a half inch apart, "to having a nervous breakdown once."

  Ms. Bunting abruptly changed the subject. "I think these colors will go well together. Do you agree?" She was holding up three skeins — two light and one medium colors.

  Jane leaped in and asked, "What would it look lik
e if you used the darkest instead of the medium?"

  This was enough to cut off any more personal

  questions from Elizabeth. Jane thought it was about time Elizabeth's snoopiness was squelched.

  The conversations shifted back to color and pattern choices, with Martha as busy as a hen advising various students. It drifted off into recipes for a bit, then to having pillows made of their work when it was done or having them mounted in acid-free paper and double glass, front and back.

  An hour later, packing-up commenced. Ms. Bunting was spending the afternoon with her grandchildren to give them their toys. Elizabeth asked Jane, Shelley, and Ms. Bunting where they had found the wonderful jewelry bags in which they kept their floss, scissors, and needles. Shelley explained about the department store and that they were meant for jewelry.

  Jane and Shelley were going home, Shelley intending to get ahead of Jane in the needlepoint ranks.

  Jane planned to work on her second book. Elizabeth, not surprisingly, was headed to a Junior League planning committee.

  Tazz was on her way to her warehouse to find the right size costumes.

  Sam had to pick up his truck from the garage where he had left it to have the tires rotated while he was in class. He asked Martha if she had a paper bag without the needlepoint shop logo he could put his things in. He didn't want the mechanics to see what he had along.

  When Jane returned home, she decided she had to monitor her time. She'd have to put in two hours on her book for each hour of working on her needlepoint. Over a ham sandwich and Fritos, she made notes of what Letitia would be doing next. Then she'd do at least half a chapter and still have time to do a bit of needlepoint before dressing to go out with Mel at five to his favorite steakhouse restaurant. Detective Mel VanDyne and Jane had been friends and lovers for a long time.