Chapter 22
22
Matinee time. The theatre lights dimmed, and the curtain went up in readiness as the audience settled. Sylvia, taking the role of narrator, began the monologue that opened the play. There was a rapt silence as Sylvia left the stage. The Capulets’ servants Sampson and Gregory were next to take their marks and they proceeded to make rude jokes and banter back and forth. The audience laughed in all the right places and things seemed to be off to a flying start. Esme began to relax. She glanced at herself in the dressing-room mirror and hoped the beads of nervous sweat wouldn’t be visible under the stage lights. She dabbed her face with a tissue, only to get bits stuck to her skin. She panicked and picked them all off again quickly, then went back to watching from the wings and chewing her lip.
Partway through the first fight scene, the backdrop began to wobble. Two of Sylvia’s volunteer stagehands, found at the local high school, along with much of the backstage crew she had acquired, rushed on to hold it up as the audience began to chuckle. Esme’s face flushed and sweat beaded all over again. She glanced down at her tissue-paper-thin white dress and wondered if her underwear was going to be visible under the stage lights. Perhaps she should have thought about that much sooner.
Bryce tripped over his own feet when he made his entrance as Romeo and for some reason called Mercutio Mercury , as in Freddie. To be fair, Parker was sporting a rather Freddie-esque fake moustache for his part, so it was easy to see why Bryce made the mistake. But Parker then got the giggles and added in a couple of Mr Mercury’s signature fist bumps when he delivered his lines, which, of course, the audience found hilarious; only serving to encourage him further.
‘They think it’s a comedy,’ Sylvia said in a strained voice as she arrived backstage and stood beside Esme. ‘They’re laughing at us, Esmerelda.’
Esme wanted to shout I told you so! But instead she reached out to comfort her. ‘To be fair, Sylvia, the audience is mostly made up of school kids. I doubt that many of them have even studied Romeo and Juliet yet, so they’ll have no clue whether this is all meant to be happening or not.’
Sylvia turned to her. ‘Do you think so?’
The hope in her expression tugged at Esme’s heart and she nodded. ‘Absolutely. And look at it this way, this performance will be a way to iron out any issues for this evening, which I suppose is the main attraction really.’ She knew it probably wasn’t the best way to view the matinee performance, but she immediately saw Sylvia’s eyes brighten.
Sylvia nodded and a look of relief spread across her face. ‘Yes, oh, yes. My Charlie and his fellow actors are coming this evening, so it has to be right. I can’t make him a laughing stock too. I won’t allow that.’ At first Esme was confused by the name Charlie until she remembered it was Zach’s birth name.
‘There you go. What’s that saying, it’ll be all right on the night ?’ Esme said with a smile that she hoped was more convincing than how she really felt.
‘Yes, teething troubles, that’s all it is. Every play has them. Teething troubles.’ And just as Sylvia uttered those fateful words, a piece of the background scenery came crashing down to raucous applause and laughter and luckily missing everyone on stage.
* * *
Thankfully, nothing else too drastically negative befell the performance; there were a few real names injected into dialogue instead of character names, and the odd mispronunciation, but in the end the audience gave a standing ovation.
Afterwards, along with the other cast members, Esme stood in the foyer to chat to audience members as they left.
‘That was banging!’ one teenage boy told her. ‘I always thought Shakespeare was dull as shit but that was brilliant.’
Sylvia, who stood beside her, lifted a finger to speak, and Esme had a feeling she knew exactly what her director was going to say, so she intervened. ‘Ah, well, we’re so glad it’s opened your eyes. Thanks very much for coming.’
The young man left, beaming from ear to ear and Sylvia turned to scowl at Esme. ‘I was only going to tell him that it was supposed to be a tragedy so that he understood.’
Esme smiled. ‘Yes, but remember they don’t need to know that. So long as they’ve enjoyed their trip to the theatre that’s all that matters, right?’
Sylvia sighed and huffed like a sulking toddler. ‘I suppose so.’
Once the audience had gone, Sylvia called a meeting. Everyone gathered on the seats as Sylvia took to the stage once more, only this time there was no smile on her face. ‘That was a disaster!’ she exclaimed with her hand on her forehead as if shielding her eyes from the glaringly obvious. ‘I can’t believe the audience weren’t leaving in droves.’
‘With all due respect, Sylvia, they seemed to love it,’ Bryce said, adjusting his tights for about the hundredth time.
‘Aye, they were laughing their heeds aff!’ the actor who played Sampson added.
Sylvia sighed. ‘But it’s not a comedy. Romeo and Juliet are star-crossed lovers who meet a tragic end. It’s supposed to be emotional and heartbreaking, not hilarious!’
‘Aye but who knows what any of it means? It’s written in gobbledegook,’ Gregory, aka Alec, chimed in.
‘It’s just early modern English, Alec,’ Sylvia said with no little exasperation and a deep sigh. ‘It’s how people used to talk, that’s all.’
Alec’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh, right! I didnae ken people used te speak in rhyme in the olden days. You learn sumhin new e’ry day.’ He glanced around to check if anyone else was surprised.
Sylvia stared at him blankly for what felt like an age, clearly unsure whether or not Alec was joking. She chose to treat his comment with the contempt she felt it deserved and addressed the cast and crew again. ‘Right, we have only a couple of hours until we need to be ready for the evening performance, so please, for goodness’ sake, and for my tiny shred of remaining sanity, can we ensure the scenery and backdrop are all secure. Make sure our shoelaces are knotted, and can we please stick to our characters’ given directions without adlibbing. And yes, I’m looking at you, Parker. No one wants to see a poor Freddie Mercury rip-off at a Shakespeare play. And Bryce, his name is Mercutio , not Mercury. Try to remember that. And please, please, please , take this next performance seriously or be the reason I have a nervous breakdown.’
A rumble of assent traversed the room before people shot off in all directions to grab drinks, food and to do Sylvia’s bidding.
Parker sidled off to a corner and stuck his earbuds in, so Esme went over to check on him.
‘Whatcha doin’?’ she asked in a sing-song voice as she plonked herself down beside him.
He handed her an earbud. ‘Trying to regain my sanity by listening to Mother.’
Taylor Swift’s ‘Fortnight’ played into her ear. ‘Why do they call Taylor Swift Mother anyway? She’s not that much older than us.’
‘Because with her music she provides the emotional support pillow we sometimes need to get through the day.’
‘So why not call her pillow?’ Esme feigned seriousness and Parker glared at her until she started laughing.
‘So, on a scale of one to ten, how much are you shitting yourself about the next performance?’ Parker asked as he took out his remaining earbud and turned in his seat to face her. ‘Because I’m at around one hundred and fifty.’
Esme giggled. ‘Probably only ten behind you, to be honest. There’s so much riding on this that I can’t really think about it too much because if I do I may just run away.’
Parker groaned. ‘I can’t believe all the castle staff and film crew are coming. Oh, God, we could’ve been having a night out instead of doing this, Esme. What were we thinking?’
‘Come on, Mercury, I mean Mercutio, where’s your fighting spirit?’
‘Not seeing the light of dayooooh, ayyyyoh, ayyyyyoh, deededayohayohayoh,’ Parker sang in his best Freddie Mercury Band Aid concert style, and they both burst into a fit of hysterics.
* * *
Evening performance time.
Lights down.
Heart pounding.
Sylvia pacing.
Curtain up. Here we go…
The applause at the end of the performance was incredible. Loud, heavy clapping, whistles and cheers. Single flower stems flew onto the stage from the audience. The cast walked out to take their final bow and Esme was gobsmacked to see everyone on their feet again. Only this time everything had been perfect. No fluffed lines, no tripping, no falling scenery. It had been as professional as any rushed Shakespeare play by a group of amateurs could have been, and a lump of raw emotion lodged itself in Esme’s throat as her eyes welled with tears of joy and relief.
Sylvia was brought out on stage and handed a beautiful bouquet and a microphone.
‘I just want to say a huge thank you to my wonderful cast and behind the scenes team. Without you, things would neither have been possible nor have been as fabulous. I also want to thank my darling nephew Charlie for offering advice to my cast. His words of encouragement have created some amazing actors and I’m forever grateful. This play wasn’t supposed to have been performed for many weeks but due to a personal scheduling conflict I had to bring the whole thing forward. I wasn’t going to cancel because it’s been a lifelong dream to put on this play and I had never before had a cast so willing to commit to it and so wonderful to work with. I can now head off into hospital safe in the knowledge that we finished what we started. Thank you all!’ More appreciative applause and whistles ensued.
So that’s what the conflict was. Sylvia’s having surgery , Esme thought, and her eyes welled with tears again. Once they were all off stage and everyone had hugged Sylvia, Esme walked over to see her.
‘I’m so sorry, Sylvia, I had no idea you were having to go into hospital.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, dear. I didn’t tell anyone, only my close family. The last thing I needed was for people to stay in the play out of pity. I just wanted to do this one thing before I’m laid up and incapacitated for months. I hope you’re not too upset with me for keeping the truth quiet.’
Esme pulled Sylvia into a hug. ‘Not at all. I think you’re incredibly brave. And thank you for all you’ve done. This has been a memorable experience, that’s for sure.’
‘Thank you, my wonderful Juliet. Your talent really is wasted, you know.’ She turned as more people came towards her. ‘Oh dear, I expect I’m going to have to explain myself several times over tonight. Wish me luck.’ She turned and walked towards a crowd of people and was enveloped in a group hug.
* * *
Esme and the rest of the cast and crew made their way out to the foyer again, only this time to a different reception. Lots of praise about how well executed such a complex piece had been, how exceedingly good the cast was, how the costumes and scenery were just enough and very classy. Esme felt like she had floated into an alternate reality. It felt good.
She scanned the crowd looking for Judd. She knew he was here. He had been at the matinee but had just waved and given her a thumbs up before leaving the theatre afterwards. This time she hoped to actually speak to him. But she couldn’t see him anywhere.
‘There’s our Juliet!’ came her dad’s voice. ‘You were amazing, pet. Absolutely brilliant. I’m beyond proud of you. We both are, aren’t we, Sal?’
‘Oh, absolutely in awe,’ her mum replied, and they both hugged her. ‘I was telling the people sitting by us that you were our daughter. They thought you were a professional. The woman said, “Ooh, I thought it was an amateur thing so how come they’ve got a professional to play Juliet?” and she was so surprised when I said you weren’t.’
‘Oh, that’s lovely.’
‘Anyway, we’ll see you tomorrow, there’s a queue of folks wanting to talk to you.’
Olivia and Brodie came over next. ‘Wow! Just wow!’ Brodie said. ‘I mean… wow seems quite fitting, I think.’
Esme laughed. ‘Thank you.’
Olivia hugged her. ‘I’m beginning to think I’m destined to never have a PA, you know,’ she said as she beamed at her.
Esme frowned. ‘Are you firing me?’
Olivia laughed. ‘Absolutely not! But you’re my third and now everyone knows you’re this good at acting the film crew will be kidnapping you.’
Esme shook her head and grinned. ‘I sincerely don’t think you have anything to worry about there. I think you’re stuck with me. And anyway I love working for you.’
‘Yes, but now we know why Parker said you’re wasted as my PA. Anyway, we must dash, Mirren and Dougie are babysitting again but we’re missing our little girl.’ They hugged her again and left.
Once they had gone, a huge bouquet of stunning flowers came towards her as if floating under its own steam but when it reached her a head popped out from behind it. ‘I knew you’d be incredible,’ Zach said as he handed her the bouquet.
‘Oh, wow, these are beautiful. What are they?’ she asked.
Zach chuckled. ‘Erm, flowers according to the florist in the very fancy shop I went to.’
‘Well, of course. I just wondered… never mind. They’re lovely. Thank you.’
‘I’m so glad you like them. Everyone was so impressed by you. I mean stunned to the core impressed. I reckon some of our cast are going to be coming to you for acting tips.’
‘Oh, stop it, you’re making me blush,’ Esme laughed.
Zach fixed her with an unreadable expression. ‘Esme, I hope you know I think a lot of you. But… can I ask you something?’
Esme tilted her head, intrigued by what he was about to say. ‘Sure, of course.’
Zach clenched his jaw and scratched his head. Then he stepped from foot to foot and glanced over his shoulder before turning back to look at her. ‘Do you have feelings for Judd?’
She opened and closed her mouth a few times before clamping it closed for a few moments, realising she must’ve resembled a dying fish. ‘I… erm… I hadn’t really thought about it,’ she lied. But obviously she wasn’t about to talk about any of this before she knew for sure and had spoken to Judd.
A crease appeared between Zach’s brows, and he rubbed his thumbnail along his bottom lip several times. ‘Really? Because I’ve seen how you look at him. And how he looks at you. The relationship you have is… I don’t know…’ There was tinge of sadness to his expression now. He glanced over his shoulder again, but everyone was preoccupied chatting, so he tuned back to focus on her again. ‘The thing is, I’ve grown really fond of you, Esme, but I don’t want to step on toes or even say how I feel if I know your heart’s elsewhere.’
Oh, my word! Is this actually happening? Zach Marchand is telling me he has feelings for me? The Zach Marchand. My childhood mega crush! So why don’t I feel anything? Why are there no fireworks? What’s wrong with me?
She searched her mind for the words, any words. But before she could say anything, he leaned closer and gently kissed her lips. Her eyes closed involuntarily but there was no spark.
None.
And when she opened her eyes, she was met with Judd’s. He was carrying a bunch of red, orange and pink tulips. The pained expression on his face almost broke her. She wanted to run to him but there were so many people standing in her way. She gasped and opened her mouth to call out to him, but he simply smiled, held up the flowers and pointed at them then back at her, placed them on the table beside him and left.