CHAPTER FOUR
‘I’ll just run to wardrobe. I’ll be back in a jiffy,’ said Andy, dashing off to pick up a jacket from the range of costumes on the rails.
While Andy ran away, Mari was introduced to the show’s director.
Suave was the word that sprang to mind when Mari saw him walking down the centre aisle of the auditorium to join them. He wore expensive classics in neutral tones and a dark tweed jacket that made Mari look more in tune with him than the others.
‘Ah, here’s Jon,’ said Huntly, pleased to see him. ‘He’s going to direct the play for us.’
Jon was of similar age and stature to Huntly and Niall, a good–looking man with light brown hair, swept back from his studious face, and pale blue eyes that preferred to cut through any nonsense. He’d become friends with them at university. A brief introduction explained that he’d agreed to direct the show they’d had to cancel, but was willing to direct the new play.
‘Delighted to meet you, Mari.’ Jon shook her hand and gave her a genuine smile. ‘I’m intrigued by your writing. I hope I cause no offence by saying that it reminds me of playwrights of the past rather than the present. I rather like that.’
Mari was thrilled. ‘I’m flattered. I’ve always loved classic plays, so perhaps some of that comes through in my writing.’
‘A modern traditionalist,’ Jon added, sounding eager to take part in the production.
Mari felt her heart racing again, but forced herself not to babble with enthusiasm.
‘Here we go,’ Andy said, rushing on to the stage wearing a dark blue tailcoat over his jeans and top. He straightened the front of it, tidying himself up. He’d acquired a copy of the script en route, and flipped it to the scene he was due to perform. ‘I read your notes, Mari, and I think we have the same vision for Oglesby’s attire. Modern vintage. Nothing anyone can pin down. A style of his own, I think you said.’
‘Yes,’ Mari agreed, speaking up to Andy on the stage.
‘Anyone seen Fluffy?’ Andy glanced around. ‘Or should I say, Spindle.’
From stage left, Peter threw him the prop cat.
‘Cheers,’ said Andy, catching the cat and giving its fur a ruffle. ‘He’ll help with the piece I’m going to read for you.’
‘Let’s sit down.’ Huntly gestured to seats three rows back from the stage.
Mari sat down with Huntly on one side and Jon on the other, while Niall took a seat beside the director.
‘The cat doesn’t have dialogue, is that right?’ Andy called to Mari.
‘Correct,’ she said. ‘He’s not a talking cat, just a mysterious one that’s glimpsed throughout the story.’
Andy smiled with relief. ‘That makes it so much more dramatic.’
Sandwiched between Huntly and Jon, Mari tried to look like she was at ease with the whole situation, while Andy took a moment to get into character.
And then he began to read...
Mari watched as Andy read the dialogue, a scene near the beginning of the play when he was in his shop. His acting brought the character of Oglesby to life and she was impressed with his performance. He had a wonderful speaking voice that projected well from the stage to the auditorium, a richness that hadn’t been apparent when meeting him.
She wasn’t the only one impressed. Huntly, Niall and Jon were equally enthralled by Andy’s portrayal, and nodded to each other that they’d found their leading man. They included Mari in their approval.
When Andy finished reading, they applauded and praised the short but dramatic performance.
‘Andy would be perfect,’ Huntly whispered.
‘He’s ideal for the role,’ said Jon.
Niall agreed.
‘What do you think, Mari?’ Huntly said to her.
‘He’s an excellent actor and really captured the character,’ she said.
Andy handed the cat back to Peter and then came down to join them, looking nervous but hopeful.
Huntly went over and shook Andy’s hand, followed by Niall and Jon. There were smiles and chatter and Mari took a moment to take it all in, before Huntly walked back to talk to her.
‘I know it’s been a whirlwind for you, but Niall and I were sure that your play was for us. So we contacted those involved in the show we had to cancel. We had to act quickly before they were committed to other plays, especially at this time of the year when seasonal shows begin hiring staff.’
‘It’s okay, I understand,’ she assured him.
‘Fortunately, everyone came back on board for this new play, and we’re aiming to light a fire under it so we can launch on the opening night we’d originally planned for our autumn schedule.’
‘How soon will that be?’
‘As fast as we can get the show rehearsed, roles given to the actors, the scenery, props and costumes finalised.’ Huntly smiled at her. ‘But I just wanted to assure you that the process for your next play won’t be quite so pressured.’
Mari blinked. ‘My next play?’
‘I don’t think you’re a one trick pony,’ said Huntly. ‘Surely you’re working on your next play, or formulating it at the moment.’
‘Eh, well, now that you’ve taken my play, I suppose I’ll start working on new material. Or reworking plays that I’ve tucked away.’
‘Do that. I’m not a playwright, but from my experience of working in this arena, I’ve heard that it’s a great time to start putting down new ideas or revising previous plays you’ve written with a fresh eye.’
‘I will.’ She thought about the plays she’d written, not all finished, and other ideas she’d had, nothing more than scribbles. Then there was the stash of classic plays she had in one of the craft boxes. She’d started collecting plays years ago having found a bundle in a second–hand bookshop. Theatre classics, from one act scenarios to musical dramas. Studying these had helped her learn how to structure her plays. And she went to see as many live performances as she could.
‘I hope the deal we’ve offered is suitable,’ Huntly said in a confiding tone. ‘But if there’s anything you’d like to change or discuss, feel free. I understand you’ll want time to study it.’
‘I haven’t received any information about the deal,’ she said.
‘Didn’t you get my email? Niall sent a message to you this morning saying we wanted your play. Then I emailed all the details.’
Mari grabbed her phone and checked her messages. And there it was.
‘I rushed here as soon as I heard from Niall,’ she said, opening the attachment with the offer. ‘Then I turned my phone off so I wouldn’t be interrupted by knitting orders.’
As she started to read it, Huntly spoke to her.
‘There’s an advance of royalties we’re offering. And a little extra for helping us with our leaky ship.’
‘The accounting was a small favour. I wasn’t looking for payment.’
‘It’ll save us money going forward, so we’ve added the extra on top of the advance for your play,’ he explained.
Mari read the amount they were proposing for the advance, and gasped. ‘This is very generous.’
‘We think the play has the potential to be a success. When you’re ready, give us your details so we can sort everything out.’
Mari’s mind was still in a whirl as Niall suggested they head up to the office for tea and cake.
Jon kept pace with Huntly and Niall. Andy walked beside Mari, eager to chat to her. ‘What are you writing at the moment?’
‘I’m about to start something new, but I’m not sure if it’ll be a play I wrote last year that I’d love to rework.’
‘You’ll probably view it differently now that this play has been accepted. It’ll boost your confidence,’ said Andy.
‘Yes, everything feels like a whirlwind and I need time to relax.’
Andy laughed. ‘You’ll be lucky.’ Then he spoke to the others. ‘These guys work like blazes.’
‘There’s still time for tea and a slice of cake to celebrate,’ said Huntly.
They all poured into the office and Huntly flicked the kettle on to boil while serving up slices of the three layer vanilla sponge cake, filled with strawberry jam and cream, that was covered with rich, buttercream icing and decorated with white chocolate curls.
Mari noticed the name on the napkins that had come with the cake delivery. ‘I see that Ivy’s husband baked this.’ She explained that Ivy owned the craft shop and that her husband was a baker.
‘It’s a big small world,’ said Huntly, pouring their tea. They helped themselves to milk and sugar.
There were four chairs, so one short, and Huntly parked himself on the side of the desk while the others sat around it.
The intimate and informal celebration made Mari feel that she could be part of this world. It was a dream come true. But that’s what writing her play was all about. Creating a dream world that people could enjoy while they were in the audience. Now she was one of the team.
‘We’ll give you a proper tour of the theatre after we’ve had our cake,’ said Huntly.
‘I’d like to walk through some ideas I have with Mari,’ Jon added. ‘Up on the stage, so you can get a feel for what I have in mind.’
Andy was keen to join them.
‘And you’ll meet Sammy, our set director,’ Huntly said to Mari. ‘He’s made some astounding sets for us before, and has decades of experience in the business.’
Mari had just eaten a mouthful of the delicious cake. ‘Great,’ she mumbled, causing them to laugh.
The light atmosphere helped her realise that this was actually going ahead and in the not too distant future the theatre would be filled with an audience eager to watch the play she’d written.
A message came through on Niall’s phone. He ignored it. Then another message, and another, until he sighed and checked what was so urgent that it merited interrupting their celebration.
Whatever it was, Niall frowned and then glanced at Huntly. ‘Red alert.’
Huntly sighed, and put his plate down on the desk, as if he’d lost his appetite to finish the remainder of his cake.
Mari’s expression made Huntly sigh again, and he explained the incoming warning. ‘Scarlet is on her way to the theatre.’
It transpired through the three of them chipping in details about Scarlet, none of them thrilled at the prospect of her arriving, that Scarlet was an actress and model seeking a part in the new play. But the main role it seemed she was after was as Huntly’s girlfriend.
‘I’m not interested in dating Scarlet,’ Huntly made this quite clear to Mari. The others seemed to know the intricacies of Scarlet’s wiles.
‘Have you made this clear to her?’ said Mari.
‘Yes,’ Huntly explained. ‘But it creates an awkward situation. I’ve tried to be fair and offered her a role in one of our previous shows. That’s when the trouble began. She became a disruptive element to the rest of the cast and those involved in the show.’
‘I’ve never been enamoured with her acting,’ said Jon, enjoying his tea and cake. ‘She’s stunningly beautiful, but cold as winter. She’s done quite well for herself I suppose in a couple of dramatic productions, but she’s certainly not right for this play.’
Andy didn’t say anything, but from his tense expression, Mari surmised he wasn’t keen to work with her either.
Breaking the tension, Peter popped his head round the office door. ‘I’ve got a great idea for Fluffy.’
Everyone listened to the prop manager’s suggestion.
‘I’m going to stick batteries up his bahookie,’ said Peter. ‘And stuff a mechanism in him that will make it look like he’s breathing when he’s sitting on set.’
‘That sounds creepy,’ said Huntly. ‘Give it a go though.’
‘Will do,’ and off he went to work on the prop cat.
Andy spoke up. ‘Sammy the set director told me he’s planning to create an effect with the lighting to make it look like the cat is a slinky shadow prowling across the back of the stage.’
‘That could look amazing,’ said Mari. In a part of the play she’d written a note suggesting that the shadow of the cat was cast against the night glow of the city. Clearly, the set director had read this and was going to try to create it.
‘It’s a pity you can’t use your theatre cat,’ Jon commented, wiping the buttercream off his fingers on to a napkin. ‘But you couldn’t possibly use a real cat.’
‘We don’t have a cat,’ Huntly told him casually.
Jon looked surprised and thumbed towards the office door. ‘There was a lovely black cat sitting outside the theatre entrance when I arrived. It looked at me with these vibrant green eyes as I walked past.’ He glanced at Mari. ‘Its eyes were even more curious and green than yours, Mari.’
Everyone except Mari shrugged away the thought of them having a theatre cat.
Could it be Spindle, she wondered, and then dismissed this until Jon made another comment.
‘When I glanced back to see if the cat was following me into the theatre, it had gone,’ said Jon.
‘Probably looking for tasty scraps,’ Andy suggested.
Niall put his empty plate down on the desk. ‘Or knew we had cake.’
Smiling, and drinking down their tea, they piled their plates on to the tea tray.
‘Right, let’s give you a proper tour of the theatre,’ Huntly said to Mari.
‘Remember, I’m stealing Mari for a chat about the stage directions,’ Jon reminded Huntly lightly.
Chatting about what they were planning to do, things to be done, Mari was swept along in the liveliness of their company and into the heart of the theatre.
‘The stage is higher than I imagined,’ Mari commented, standing up on it, looking out at all the empty seats that would be filled with the audience.
‘It’s quite deceiving,’ said Jon. ‘Actors are accustomed to it, and some stages are higher than others, but this one is a nice height and there’s a great atmosphere in this theatre even when it’s just us here.’
Mari felt the sense of excitement. She turned to Andy. ‘I’ve seen lots of plays, but this is the first time I’ve ever stood on stage.’
‘It gives you a whole different perspective, doesn’t it,’ said Andy, coming over and pointing at the seats. ‘I love seeing the faces of the audience react as they enjoy a show. Though depending on the lighting, I can only glimpse those near the front. But I can sense the reactions, like waves washing towards me when I’m up on the stage performing.’
‘I’d never have the talent or the confidence to act on stage like you do, Andy,’ said Mari.
Andy leaned close. ‘And I can’t write for toffee. So thankfully each person to their own talents.’
‘Exactly,’ Jon chimed–in. ‘So let’s talk about how we’re going to portray this fascinating shop that sells everything and really capture the audience’s imagination.’
As everyone buzzed around, Mari took her tweed jacket off and hung it on a chair at the side of the stage. The pretty white jumper showed her slender curves, though she was unaware that she’d caught Huntly’s attention.
From down near the middle row of seats, Huntly admired how lovely Mari looked, then forced such thoughts away, reminding himself of his own rule not to get involved with anyone working on the show. But still, he couldn’t help liking Mari, and the depth of the attraction took him off guard.
Jumping up on to the stage to join Mari, Jon and Andy, he approached her and pointed up towards the back of the auditorium.
‘That’s the control box up there,’ Huntly told her. It looked like a small room, like that for a cinema projector, tucked away so it didn’t obscure the audience’s view. ‘Our set director, Sammy, is adjusting the lighting and trying out different effects. During the show, the lighting and sound is controlled from there.’
Mari was enjoying taking in the information given to her, starting to see how they planned all the aspects of the show to fit together into the finished performance. Sitting in many different theatres, she’d never had a peek behind the scenes to see the workings, like a spider’s web of creativity, being spun into a play for the audience to watch.
Huntly waved up to Sammy. Dimming the lighting inside the control box so they could see him better, Sammy waved back.
His white hair and beard reminded her of Santa Claus, and she raised her hand to acknowledge the set director when he included her in his wave.
Flicking the lighting system back up, Sammy fiddled with the control panel, adjusting the magnification on something he was working on, and shone a beam of light on to the back of the stage.
The shadow of a huge black cat appeared to slink along, causing Andy to shriek when he saw it behind him.
‘Jings!’ Andy gasped and then laughed.
‘Sorry, Andy,’ Sammy announced over the microphone. ‘Got my magnification mixed up a wee bit.’
Everyone was laughing.
‘A wee bit,’ said Andy, pretending to calm his heart. ‘I thought someone had been overfeeding Fluffy.’
In all the merriment, a lot of practical work was done, including Mari learning the specific names for the main areas on stage so that she’d know what Jon and others were talking about.
‘The crossover is the hidden walkway just behind the stage where actors and crew can cross from one side to the other without the audience seeing them,’ Jon explained.
‘We store scenery backdrops and props there too,’ Peter the prop manager told her while wiring up the cat’s bahookie.
‘Sometimes the backdrops look like a pack of cards with backgrounds lined up to be interchanged during the show,’ Andy added.
‘Any suggestions for the actual shop,’ said Huntly. ‘In my mind, it sort of looks like the curious old shop down the street.’
Jon’s interest perked up. ‘What shop is that?’
‘It’s the one that helped me picture the shop in my play,’ said Mari. ‘The one in my play is fictional, but as I was writing the scenes, I imagined what a mysterious shop would feel like.’
‘Is Oglesby the owner of the real shop?’ Andy said to her.
‘No, the name is fiction too,’ Mari told him. She explained about Ivy not even knowing much about the elusive owner of the shop opposite her craft shop. ‘Everyone seems to describe the owner differently. But I made up what I pictured the character would look like.’
‘I like your depiction,’ said Andy. ‘It’s a terrific role, with layers of mystery and a touch of magic, and things not entirely explainable.’
‘That’s what intrigued me when I read the first act,’ Jon added.
Huntly agreed.
‘What about the cat?’ said Jon. ‘Is there a real Spindle?’
‘Yes and no,’ Mari replied. ‘There’s a black cat with green eyes that appears from time to time near the shop that’s always closed. As if he’s the owner’s cat. But no one is sure. Ivy said that one day she was outside her craft shop talking to a customer about spindles, small wooden spindles used for hand spinning your own yarn for knitting.’
She showed them a picture of a drop spindle on her phone, then continued to explain.
‘Anyway, Ivy said that when she mentioned the word spindle, the cat reacted, as if that was his name,’ said Mari. ‘Ivy tried other names from Twinkle to Thimble, but to no effect. So although no one knows what the cat’s real name is, he’s become Spindle. So I used that name for Oglesby’s cat.’
‘It’s perfect,’ said Jon.
Mari wondered if Jon would then mention about the black cat outside the theatre, but the conversation changed to discussing how they’d create the shop for the stage setting.
Huntly, Mari and Jon went back down to the front seats leaving Andy on stage.
Jon described what he had in mind for the opening scene, gesturing up to the stage, his tone filled with enthusiasm. ‘I picture that the establishing scene will have the shop aglow at night...lights shining through the old–fashioned windows, the cat sitting inside, and stars twinkling in the sky...’
Niall’s phone began to light up with messages again, and he threw Huntly a warning look. Another red alert, Mari rightly assumed. Only this time, Scarlet was in the theatre.
Before Huntly could plan a course of action or evasion, Scarlet was walking down the centre aisle, as if strutting on a fashion runway in towering black heels, and a tight–fitting black top and figure–hugging black skirt. Her beauty was as cold as Jon had described, but with her shoulder–length dark hair and porcelain skin, there was no ignoring the statuesque model–actress.
Scarlet walked towards Huntly, but cast a daggered glance at Mari.
Huntly instinctively stepped closer to Mari, ready to shield her from any barbed remarks.
Mari saw the challenging look in Scarlet’s ice grey eyes, but it wasn’t the colour she noticed most, it was the feeling they gave her. And sensed the trouble brewing.