Chapter 17 #3
One year, the three girls, who had all been in the Junior Players, as well as learning tap, ballet and modern, had asked if, as a birthday surprise, they could work out a routine for the song to perform for him.
As the eldest and possessing the best voice, it was Gillian who had taken the lead vocal, singing about the mouse and his growing family in the windmill in old Amsterdam, while Rachel and Caitlin, both enthusiastic and talented dancers, had worked on a complicated tap routine.
‘A little mouse with clogs on…’ Gillian had sung in her clear, powerful voice while Rachel and Caitlin danced.
A musical break was introduced for Caitlin to perform her show-stopping turning triple-time step, but on the day of the performance, tragedy had struck and, afterwards, Caitlin had never danced or performed again. Even hearing the music was causing her to panic.
‘No,’ she said to Annie, struggling to push past the older woman, to escape. ‘Why is he doing this?’
‘Please, Caitlin,’ said Annie, her eyes wide with surprise at Caitlin’s reaction, ‘stay with me, your dad wants to make an announcement.’
‘No, you don’t understand, I know what this is about, I have to leave.’
Caitlin reached into her pocket and withdrew her asthma inhaler. She turned away, the blue plastic to her lips as she puffed it, her breathlessness retreating, even as her panic remained.
To her surprise, Gillian appeared at her side, having made her way around the back of the stage. ‘Moon, are you OK?’ she asked and Caitlin shook her head, surprised at the concern on Gillian’s face. Despite their rift, the horror of hearing this song seemed to have bridged the gap between them.
‘Why’s he doing this to us?’ she said.
‘What the actual…?’ said Rachel, appearing beside them, her face ashen. ‘Has Dad finally lost it? Why are those kids singing our song and doing our dance?’
‘Surely they won’t do the turning triple?’ said Gillian, but as she spoke, the music changed and the three sisters stared at each other in disbelief.
The youngest girl stepped forward and began to dance, her feet flying as she re-enacted Caitlin’s former routine.
‘I’m leaving,’ whispered Caitlin.
‘No, you’re not,’ said a deep voice and the three women turned to see their father standing in the shadows. ‘You’re all staying and you will all do as I command.’
His voice sounded different, thought Caitlin, sadder, rougher, and there was an edge of harshness.
Before any of them could reply, the music stopped to excitable applause and several minutes of clapping for the dancers.
Larry strode on stage, leaving the three women silent and shocked.
‘My daughters. My three beautiful daughters,’ he said and there was an awkward silence from the audience.
‘They’re here,’ said Larry, beckoning them forward.
‘Gillian, my eldest, my brilliant businesswoman; Rachel, my middle daughter who has given me two beautiful granddaughters; and Caitlin, my baby, my special child. Please, my darlings, join me…’
The atmosphere shifted as the audience looked around for the three sisters.
Many faces registered amusement, others annoyance and yet more – confusion.
The announcement of the new play was usually followed by a short performance, as they had seen, then people were invited to give their views, suggest ideas and discuss its suitability.
There had never before been an invitation on stage for women who no longer acted in the Goldenwych Players productions.
‘Come on, girls,’ Larry demanded, beckoning to them. ‘Gilly-Bean, Snow-Rabbit, Moonbeam, on stage, now.’ His tone was abrupt, as though he were addressing recalcitrant children.
Caitlin looked at her sisters and, to her surprise, Gillian stepped forward, followed by Rachel, anger evident in every movement.
Annie took Caitlin’s arm and gave a gentle tug as they both stepped onto the stage.
Caitlin stumbled, causing a titter of laugher from the crowd.
Scarlet in the face, she stood as far apart from her sisters as possible.
On the opposite side, Barbara and Linus had also returned to the limelight, with George beside Larry.
‘Are you sure this is a good idea, Larry?’ Caitlin heard George whisper.
‘Yes,’ her father replied before lapsing into silence and staring at the back wall of the theatre.
‘It’s ludicrous,’ hissed Linus and Barbara scowled at him. ‘He can’t do this—’
‘We have another announcement,’ said George, stepping forward and speaking over Linus’s protests.
Barbara’s eyes were fixed on Larry. Her husband, Linus, looked upset and Annie stepped back, remaining on stage but no longer in the spotlight, her expression one of confusion. Caitlin stared around in panic.
‘The reason Larry has requested his daughters join him on stage,’ continued George, ‘is because this will be his last show.’
Larry stepped forward, present again, his vagueness gone.
‘Today,’ declared Larry, ‘I’m doing more than telling you all the name of the Christmas spectacular, I’m also announcing my retirement from King’s Ball Bearings.’
The audience gasped.
‘And as this will be my grand finale, I am inviting my daughters and their spouses to star in this adaptation.’
‘But they’re not members,’ said Linus. ‘They’d have to audition like everyone else.’
Larry’s face hardened. ‘No, they won’t. They’ll be in it. They have no choice, and neither do the Players, because if you and George refuse, I’ll withdraw the funding, and the Players will have to close.’
The auditorium erupted in fury. As people shouted and George, Barbara and Linus fielded questions, Larry stood silently in the centre of the stage, once again staring at the back wall, oblivious to the chaos around him.
Caitlin turned to flee the stage, her heart pounding, when Gillian grabbed her arm.
‘Stay with us, we need to sort this out,’ she said.
Gillian beckoned to Annie, whispered in her ear and, a few moments later, the older woman had produced three radio mics before she hurried to the piano at the back of the stage.
‘Join in where you can, Moon,’ whispered Gillian. ‘Rabbit, are you ready?’
‘What are we doing?’ Rachel asked.
‘Hold Caitlin’s hand, we’re singing Mum’s song. It’s the only thing that might make Dad see sense.’
Tears welled up in Caitlin’s eyes, but it felt good for the three of them to be united again, even it was against their father.
A movement in the wings caught her eye and she saw Lee, ashen-faced, his doctor’s bag in his hand, and a wave of relief washed over her. He gave her a thumbs-up and she smiled gratefully.
‘Ready?’ Annie called and Rachel raised her hand in response.
The trembling opening chord cut across the increasing chaos in the hall but, as the people both on stage and in the auditorium acknowledged what was happening, silence fell and all eyes turned to the three sisters.
Annie was playing the lilting tune of ‘Moon River’, from the film Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
She went through the introduction twice, ensuring the auditorium was quiet, then she cued Gillian and, into the muttering and dissent, Gillian began to sing.
Caitlin felt goosebumps rise on her arms as her sister’s voice rose pure and clear, filling the small theatre.
Rachel took a deep breath and added her own, deeper alto voice to Gillian’s soprano as they sang the piece they had performed at their mother’s funeral.
Then, as they reached the middle of the song, both turned to Caitlin, who swallowed hard and, even as terrified as she felt, added her own soprano voice, harmonising above Gillian and Rachel’s ranges.
As the three sisters sang, there was silence.
Caitlin stopped first, allowing her voice to fade, Rachel followed a few bars later, leaving Gillian to finish in her astonishing voice.
The final chord died away with the audience held spellbound before thunderous applause wrapped itself around them and rose into the ancient rafters.
The three women turned to their father and Caitlin knew they were all hoping he would smile, laugh and open his arms to them, but instead he gave a curt nod and stalked off the stage.