Twenty-Five Lucie
Twenty-Five
LUCIE
E ven though we rehearsed so many times yesterday – and despite me going over and over the script during my break at Gonzalo’s and late into the night when I got home – I am a mess when I arrive at the Birthplace. I just about managed to complete my shift at WhatNews? without any major disasters, but I could tell Dev was steering clear of mentioning the summer programme and the premiere of that scene . I have a hastily proffered handful of chocolate bars from him, together with a flask of Lyle’s extra-powerful coffee, though, which is all the support I need from them this morning.
It’s just two performances, the first of ten we will give this week. But I’m aware that so much is riding on its success. The future of our company, Ophelia’s standing with the management team, our own reputations …
I’ve tried not to obsess over it all, but I’m fighting a losing battle. So, as I chain my bike to the drainpipe beside the crew room entrance, I decide to just embrace it. Who knows – perhaps panic can push me to my best performance today?
‘You look as crap as I feel,’ Ced says drily, looking up from the morning paper as I walk in.
‘Cheers. Don’t ever consider motivational speaking as a side business.’ We share wry smiles frayed with nerves and I pull Lyle’s flask from my bag. ‘Lyle sent us coffee.’
My colleague immediately brightens. ‘Lyle Robinson is an angel incarnate! Grab two mugs and bring that blessed brew over here …’
‘Make that three?’
A low voice from the doorway makes me turn. Theo looks as terrified as Ced and I do.
‘Of course,’ I reply, looking quickly back to the flask in my hand when I realise my eyes are lingering on his smile.
The crew room hushes to a fevered silence as I fetch mugs and do my best to serve coffee without my hand shaking. When we’re all furnished with Mr Robinson’s Heavenly Brew we sit together, trying to drink without making any noise. But then Theo slurps and Ced and I immediately descend into giggles. Flush-faced and breathless, we finally dare to look at each other – which only makes our nervous mirth worse. The room echoes with our snorts and chuckles, any semblance of control abandoned.
But, my life , it feels good.
I spent the entire night being terrified of this. I’m still terrified. But I forgot that I’m not doing it alone today. We’re a company – and we’re in it together.
‘Bloody hell, I needed that.’ Ced wipes his mouth and grins at us. ‘I’ve been a total cat’s-bum about this programme.’
‘Me too,’ Theo says, risking a look at me. ‘We should just have fun.’
Fun is such an easy word compared with everything ahead of us but I like the sound of it. Maybe if we’re having fun we can kick the other concerns to the kerb.
I smile back. ‘It’s worth a try.’
‘Ah, there they are! The future hope of our little company!’ Ophelia exclaims, sweeping into the room. And instantly, panic grips us again. ‘We’ve sold tickets! The chairs are out! Mona finally coughed up my winnings and the sun is shining.’ She claps her delicately manicured hands, a waft of violet perfume meeting us a little before she does. ‘I’ve lined up a cheeky InstaLive and I’m ready to rock that stage!’
That’s enough to crack us up again, the last traces of tension ebbing away.
‘I never dreamed I’d ever hear those words coming from you,’ Ced says. ‘Who knew you were a closet internet star, Pheels?’
‘Shush, you …’ She giggles like a fairy princess and bats her hand against his arm. ‘Now, do we have everything we need? I’ve popped a covered basket behind the trellis flat with water bottles and some towels for you. It’s warming up out there and with what our two star-crossed lovers will be getting up to on that stage I’ll wager temperatures are set to soar …’
Getting that sort of wink from Ophelia Henry is unsettling, to say the least. I don’t look at Theo, but I know his barely concealed mortification will mirror my own.
We listen as Ophelia talks us through the running order for our first performance, the briskness of her words betraying the slightest trace of nerves. It’s part of the ritual, a steady reminder that we have performed together before and will again, a chance to breathe before we go out into the garden. But even as Ophelia speaks, I’m acutely aware of the soft ticking of the clock over the kitchen-in-the-wall, a solemn checking off of the seconds left before showtime.
I know we’ll be fine, but as I listen to the now familiar running order we rehearsed yesterday, butterflies rise within me in a great cloud of fluttering wings. Nerves are good , Lyle always says, himself no stranger to waiting to step onto the stage. The time to worry is when they don’t arrive …
When Ophelia has finished, Ced glances over at the clock.
‘Loves, it’s time.’
The crew room falls silent.
As one, we rise and walk to the garden door. Ced grips my hand on my left. I nod and turn to Theo on my right, my hand taking his. Our fingers lock tight. I can feel all three of us shaking.
This is it. The first show of the new programme.
‘Ready, darlings?’ Ophelia asks, her hand already on the door handle.
‘Ready,’ we say as one.
She opens the door – and we step out into bright sunlight.