The Little Theatre on the Seafront

by Katie Ginger

  The Greenley Players were sitting in a circle on the stage beginning their first read-through of Much Ado About Nothing. With only three weeks to go they were upping rehearsal time and Lottie was busier than ever. She and Sid had found their way down a rickety wooden staircase at the back of the theatre to the small, dark, basement room that contained the wardrobe department. They were hoping to find some costumes for the play but the cobwebs, enormous spiders and general smell of dust and dirt didn’t bode well.

  ‘Watch your step there, Lots,’ said Sid, pointing to a broken stair as the steps creaked underfoot.

  Lottie held onto the old wooden banister and carefully stepped down two stairs at once as the voices of the Greenley Players echoed above them. She heard Gregory’s voice saying rather loudly, ‘Don’t forget to project, Sarah,’ and then a mumbling voice, that was probably Mrs Andrews’ reply, before a huge argument began. At first, Lottie had put it down to nerves but the fighting was happening more and more at the moment and she didn’t know how to stop it.

  ‘Mrs Andrews and Gregory have got to stop this fighting,’ she said, more to herself than Sid. ‘They start all the others off and then everyone takes sides. It’s like running a nursery sometimes.’

  Sid moved another box of rubbish out of the way dodging the bare light bulb swaying from side to side. ‘Why do you think they’re so bad?’

  ‘Well,’ said Lottie, unable to keep the hint of excitement from her voice. She’d been meaning to tell Sid for a while but hadn’t had a chance. She perched on an old chair about to begin her story and Sid sat on the edge of a workbench. ‘I’ve been doing some digging in Nan’s notes and it turns out that there was a whole casting thing with one of the last productions the old group did. Gregory, Cecil and Mrs Andrews were all part of the group when Nan ran the theatre, though someone else was running the actual players and I’ve no idea who this Mr Reynolds is. Anyway, there was a big row over Gregory starring in and directing this one show.’

  ‘What show?’ asked Sid, smiling. ‘It wasn’t Cabaret was it?’

  Lottie giggled. ‘Oh, God, could you imagine? Anyway, I can’t remember what it was but …’

  ‘Yeah?’ Sid said slowly, staring at her with wide eyes. He loved a bit of gossip.

  ‘Basically, he and Mrs Andrews were the leads and it started out well then Mrs Andrews got all bossy, as she does, and Gregory got all snippy, as he does, and words were said that have clearly never been forgotten. I’m guessing Nan took his side because she always said nice things about Gregory but she never liked Mrs Andrews.’

  Sid sat back. ‘Blimey. That must have been what … five years ago? That’s quite a long time to hold a grudge. Maybe Gregory threatened to reveal Mrs Andrews’ real age or something. What are you going to do about it?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’ Lottie got up and began looking around. ‘Oh, Sid, look at this place. It’s an absolute mess.’ She picked up a dirty sock and threw it back onto the concrete floor.

  They were surrounded by box upon box of rubbish. Old Christmas decorations, leftover flyers and posters, and old tins of paint spilled out everywhere.

  ‘I’m not sure how much we’re going to find,’ said Sid.

  ‘Shhh,’ said Lottie, holding her fingers to her lips. Her eyes focused on the cracks criss-crossing the ceiling as she listened to the players above reciting their lines. It was terrible. Like hearing a satnav recite Shakespeare. And not even the good Joanna Lumley satnav, it was the weird disjointed one that always mispronounced street names. Hopefully the floorboards were blocking the sound and it wasn’t as bad up top.

  An hour later they were still rifling through bin bags and cardboard boxes of old smelly costumes, having found nothing at all of any use. ‘What about this one?’ asked Sid, placing a tricorne hat jauntily on his head. ‘Do I look like Napoleon?’

  Lottie stopped rummaging and examined him. ‘You’re too tall for Napoleon. More like a pirate, I’m afraid.’

  ‘What about this one?’ He pulled out a clown’s bright red wig and swapped it for the hat.

  Lottie giggled. ‘Now you look like one of those scary murder clowns from a horror film. Don’t go near any children or you’ll get yourself arrested.’

  ‘I’ve never been arrested before … it could be fun. Do you remember when we went to that fancy dress party at David’s house and we went as Jeeves and Wooster? That was awesome.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Lottie replied, pausing with her hands on her hips. ‘His wife wasn’t best pleased when he did those shots of tequila and vomited all over the carpet.’

  Sid scratched his head under the wig. ‘She went ape, didn’t she? I think we left about then. No wonder they’re divorced now.’

  Lottie paused remembering old times, before life got complicated and messy. ‘And we stopped off at the Chinese on the way to mine and then fell asleep on the sofa.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Sid laughed. ‘In the morning you had a spring roll stuck to your face.’

  Lottie smiled. ‘I was saving it for breakfast.’

  Sid grinned back and Lottie was so pleased to see his cheerful toothy grin she nearly hugged him. She’d missed conversations like this. Sid took off the wig and said, ‘Your nan woke us up with a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea, didn’t she?’

  Lottie remembered the taste. The best bacon sandwich ever. No one made them like her nan, she always used just the right amount of ketchup. Lottie turned to see Sid watching her. ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he replied. But he eyed her warily.

  ‘I’m not going to cry, Sid. I promise.’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yes.’ Bless him. He’d been there through the days and nights of hysterical sobbing, handing her tissues and bringing her chocolate. She was pleased to know that even with Selena around he still cared.

  Sid narrowed his eyes in fake suspicion. ‘Alright then. What exactly are we doing here though, Lottie? I feel like I’m at a weird jumble sale.’

  Lottie put down the disgusting smelling frock coat she had picked out of a black bag. ‘We need to find out what resources we have for Much Ado and take stock of any other costumes.’

  ‘You sound like Jeremy,’ remarked Sid. ‘Take stock. Resources.’

  ‘You know nothing about Jeremy, and I don’t sound like him. I just sound like a grown-up,’ she replied in pretend petulance, lifting her chin.

  Sid examined another box of costumes. He held out a bedsheet, or it might have been a toga then threw it back in the box and cleaned his hands on his shirt. ‘Lottie, there’s bugger all here of any use to anyone. Apart from this.’ He grabbed a fake sword and began fighting an imaginary foe.

  ‘Yep, you’re right,’ replied Lottie, putting her hands on her hips again. ‘We’re going to need some money for costumes. And props.’

  ‘And where are we going to get that?’ asked Sid, still swashbuckling with thin air.

  ‘Another fundraiser?’

  He shook his head. ‘No time. Mrs Andrews?’

  ‘I’m sure she’d be more than happy to oblige if you asked her.’ Every woman seemed to be finding Sid attractive at the moment. On the way in, Mrs Andrews had been so close behind Sid she’d almost dry humped him.

  Sid finished off his opponent with a flourish. ‘I’m a bit worried it would be like that film with Demi Moore and Robert Redford.’

  ‘Indecent Proposal?’ asked Lottie incredulously.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Do you think you’re worth a million dollars?’

  He put on a silly American accent. ‘You know I am, baby.’

  Lottie caught his eye and in the tiny wardrobe room with nothing but a harsh, bare lightbulb, he looked almost handsome. Not like Jeremy, who was handsome in a modern, aftershave advert kind of way; Sid was handsome in a classic, Fifties, Humphrey Bogart sort of way. Unconventional and rakish. His hair had ruffled from his exertions in battle and he had a nice smile. She could see how Selena might find him attractive. ‘How’s Selena?’ she asked with fa
ke cheer.

  A ruddy tinge crept into his cheeks. ‘She’s okay. It’s my birthday next week—’

  ‘I know. I’ve already got your present.’ Lottie picked up a velvet jacket and began folding it.

  ‘Have you?’ Sid looked at her hopefully. He was such a big kid, he loved birthdays as much as he had in their youth.

  ‘Yeah, of course.’

  Sid gave a wide smile and kept his eyes on Lottie. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’m not telling you,’ she teased.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘No.’ Lottie turned away from him, smiling to herself.

  Sid huffed, pretending to be cross, as she knew he would. ‘Selena was wondering if you and Jeremy wanted to come to mine for dinner? She said a dinner party but it won’t be anything that posh. Just dinner with friends, I suppose.’

  Lottie didn’t know what to say or what was more unnerving, the ‘I suppose’ or the fact that this was Selena’s idea. She wanted to believe that Selena genuinely liked Sid but they just seemed so different. She couldn’t imagine her making him happy and Lottie was sure now Selena had been flirting with Jeremy at dinner. Even he’d thought so but been too polite to say it out loud.

  Sid continued. ‘I gave Selena your number and she’s going to text you about it.’

  ‘Oh, okay.’ Lottie didn’t want Selena to have her number, but it was done now. She’d have to go. Besides, she always saw Sid on his birthday and his being with Selena wasn’t going to stop her doing that. Lottie brushed the dust from her jeans. ‘Right, we’d better start bagging up the rubbish.’

  Lottie watched Sid from her corner of her eye and wondered when their friendship would adjust to their new circumstances. She didn’t mind Sid having a girlfriend, she just couldn’t warm to Selena, that was all. If it was someone else, she’d be fine.

  Every time she and Sid were together, on their own, the weirdness vanished and their friendship became what it had always been. They knew each so well they could finish each other’s sentences and tease each other. But as soon as one of them mentioned Jeremy or Selena, things changed. Like a CD that kept jumping, their conversation stopped and started and they forgot how to be together. It was horrible and weird, and Lottie hated it.

  Sid put the sword down and picked up a retractable dagger. He plunged it into his side, groaning and fell to the floor. And just like that, their friendship was back to normal and all was right with the world. Writhing around and screaming in agony Sid said, ‘Help me, Lottie. Help me!’ and reached out for her with his free hand.

  Lottie stepped over him, smirking. ‘You’re a complete idiot, Sidney Evans.’

  He stood up, covered in dust. ‘Can I keep this?’

  ‘No. It’s the only decent thing here.’

  ‘Spoilsport.’

  Lottie threw an old smelly bowler hat into a bin bag. ‘Where are we going to get the money for new costumes and props, Sid? Jeremy’s offered some funding but that was for the roof. I can’t ask him for more money.’

  Sid’s kept his gaze on the box.

  ‘Have we sold many tickets for Much Ado yet?’ asked Lottie wondering if that might be the answer.

  Sid brightened. ‘Yeah, loads. The advert in the paper seems to have worked a treat and people are using the website and following the stories, making comments and things. We haven’t seen this much action since that incident at the vegetable show.’ He giggled. ‘Mr Williams still can’t look a cucumber in the eye.’

  ‘Oh yeah.’ Lottie sniggered. ‘Poor Mr Williams. He was in A and E for hours. Do you think we can use some of the money from the ticket sales?’

  Sid looked at her sympathetically. ‘I’m not sure it would be enough.’

  ‘Then what are we going to do?’ Lottie ran a hand through her ponytail and re-tightened it. ‘A public appeal, maybe?’

  ‘There’s no time now, Lots. We’ve only got three weeks till the show.’

  She sat down and picked at her fingers. ‘I knew there wasn’t enough time. I knew it was too soon to put on a show. Everyone’s going to be performing Shakespeare in jeans and T-shirts.’

  Sid went to her side and put his arm around her shoulder. ‘Come on, Lots. We’ll find a way and if not, we’ll call it a modern interpretation.’

  Lottie sniffed and Sid rested his head on hers. ‘Maybe I’ll pay Adelaide Andrews a visit after all.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘It’s the only way,’ he replied, squaring his shoulders and running a hand through his hair.

  ‘Thank you. We don’t need a million dollars though, you know? A couple of hundred will do.’

  ‘We’ll be lucky if we get two pound fifty,’ said Sid. ‘But I’ll give it a try. For you.’ Sid emphasised the ‘you’ and Lottie couldn’t help but blush at the meaning beneath it, reassured that she was still important to him.

  Lottie glanced at him again but he kept his eyes on the retractable dagger and she said, ‘Maybe you’re worth a little bit more than that. But only a little bit.’

  After a minute when Sid finally raised his eyes to hers it was like old times, but there was something new there now. Something Lottie couldn’t place. They’d both changed since her nan’s death and now they’d stopped seeing each other so often a distance had opened up between them – a no man’s land of emotions.

  Raised voices rang through from above. ‘Come on,’ said Lottie. ‘We’d better get upstairs and see what’s going on.’

  As she climbed up from the basement and walked onto the stage she couldn’t believe what she saw in front of her. Half the Greenley Players were standing up, shouting at one another, waving their scripts in the air, while the others sat slumped in their chairs, some playing on their phones. Conner stood in the middle trying to placate each side but Mrs Andrews and Gregory were almost at each other’s throats.

  ‘What’s happened here?’ Lottie asked, staring.

  ‘Gregory is not our leader,’ said Mrs Andrews, jabbing a finger at him. ‘If he tells me what to do, or how to recite my lines one more time I’m going to shove this script up his—’

  ‘I’m just trying to help you, dear,’ Gregory replied. ‘Because you are so bloody awful a child could do it better than you.’

  Mrs Andrews took a step towards Gregory. Cecil bravely jumped between them as she continued her onslaught. ‘Don’t talk to me like that, you drunken old—’

  ‘That’s enough, everyone,’ shouted Lottie, marching into the middle. She gave them all her best hard stare. ‘Everybody please, sit down.’ The players did as they were told looking sheepish. ‘There’s no way we’re going to learn this play if we spend all our time fighting. Gregory, I know you’re trying to help but you have to let people learn for themselves. Let them practice and decide how they want to deliver their lines. And, Mrs Andrews, I think we all need to learn how to take constructive criticism, otherwise how will we get better?’

  Sid was smiling at her and Lottie felt her annoyance subside. ‘Come on, everyone, this is just the first read-through, so let’s listen to each other’s comments, have a think and then work together to make this production the best thing Greenley has ever seen. What do you say?’

  She’d hoped for cheers and fist pumps but instead Lottie was greeted by mumbles and dirty looks. She bit the inside of her cheek. It was going to be a long day.

  Chapter 21

  Selena laid the table in the corner of the living room with four places, each with a placemat (Sid had no idea he even owned placemats) and two glasses. It was like a posh restaurant. She’d even made him clean up, which he’d done, then he had to clean up again when she arrived as it wasn’t quite up to scratch. He had to admit that he was a bit lazy when it came to cleaning, though. It was why he and Lottie spent most of their time at Lottie’s house.

  Selena had dragged Sid around the shops and bought some posh food from one of the delis in town. He’d have been quite happy with a pizza, as Lottie would have too, but they were having a special menu put together by Selena
and she didn’t want them being shown up, whatever that meant. She was now fussing around the table in an incredibly short, tight black dress.

  There was a knock at the door and Sid went to open it. He was wearing the new shirt Selena had bought him. It was blue and had pink flowers on it. He didn’t like it but hadn’t wanted to say anything.

  ‘Happy birthday,’ said Lottie as he stepped aside to let her in. She had a big box under her arm and he felt a bubble of excitement in his stomach. ‘Thanks for inviting me.’

  Jeremy stood behind her in a striped shirt, jeans and bright white trainers. Did he always have to wear shirts? Sid wondered. He might like him more if he loosened up a bit.

  Selena stood at Sid’s elbow. ‘Hi, Lottie. Lovely to see you.’

  ‘And you,’ she replied, sweetly.

  ‘I love your top,’ Selena said. ‘The colour really suits you – it’s really flattering.’

  ‘Umm, thanks. You look nice too.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Selena ran her hands down from her waist and over her thighs. ‘I like to make an effort. Jeremy,’ Selena continued, giving him a wide grin. ‘Come in. Welcome to our place.’

  Lottie’s eyes shot to Sid’s at Selena’s use of the word ‘our’ and he felt himself blush. But it was good that she was feeling comfortable here with him.

  ‘I’ll get you both a drink,’ said Sid, as he shook Jeremy’s hand and motioned for him to go through to the living room.

  ‘What a great flat you have, Sid,’ said Jeremy, walking ahead of him. ‘It’s beautiful and has such great views.’

  Sid followed to see him standing at the large sash windows looking out to sea. Lottie had placed Sid’s present on the armchair in the corner of the room and he wondered what it could be. She always got him amazing presents.