Chapter Fourteen
Fourteen
The ornate doors in the foyer that led to the defunct restaurant and cocktail lounges next door had been opened up, and work had begun in earnest on those sections too. The old kitchens were ripped out and were being replaced with new stainless-steel fittings, while the bar and restaurant areas were treated with the same sensitivity as the theater proper as restoration works began to bring them back to their former splendor. Clearly, Evaline had confidence that her efforts would attract buyers with big bucks.
With teams working around the clock, the old buildings quickly became their own village; faces became familiar, starting with nods and smiles and moving on to greetings and conversational snippets as they passed each other in the corridors.
On Wednesday evening, as she drew near to the giant shimmering Christmas tree in front of the theater, she saw great rolls of red fabric being ferried into the building. New curtains. She smiled, excited, and dodged between them, taking the stairs two at a time and pushing through the main double doors to the balcony just in time to see the old stage tableau curtains—which pulled up into swags revealing the players—collapse heavily down from their invisible tracks in a sea of languidly rippling fabric the color of cranberries. They landed with a muted flump on top of all the other curtains, which helped to reveal and conceal the magic of the stage and now lay discarded across the boards. These last and largest drapes released a cloud of dust into the air that rolled out into the auditorium like a gray sea fog.
Though she knew that none of this renovation was for her or the famous five, in moments like this it felt like it was all for them. It was thrilling to think that they would be the first people to put on a show here in fifty years, that theirs would be the first faces behind the new drapes, the first feet on the newly polished boards, the first voices to carry out into the resuscitated auditorium. Of course, it was terrifying too, but all troughs had their peaks, and these moments helped to temper her exhaustion as she worked all day at the school and then all evening at the theater.
She couldn’t see the famous five, but Leo’s loud sneezing echoed around the auditorium. The dust was an acrid twang in her nostrils, and she didn’t think they could realistically work here this evening.
“Harriet!” Ken’s voice snapped out. He came up behind her just as she reached the three teenagers who had taken refuge from the dust in the farthest corner of the dress circle. She turned to see Ken hanging on to the back of Ricco’s jacket with one hand and Carly’s sleeve with the other. Ricco’s jaw was jutted out in indignation, and he kept trying to wriggle out of Ken’s meaty grip.
Carly spat, “Get off me!”
“I caught these two smoking a joint out the window of the downstairs toilet.”
Harriet’s good-mood bubble popped. She glared at them. Give me strength!
“I’m sorry, Ken, it won’t happen again,” she said pleadingly. Please don’t call the police…or the school!
Ken released his grip on the pot-smoking duo. Ricco shook himself and schlepped over to the rest of the students, throwing himself into a seat in the stalls with a face like thunder, but Carly flicked a double bird and shouted, “Fuck this shit, I’m outta here!” and started walking toward the side exit.
“Carly!” Harriet shouted.
“I’ll get her, miss,” said Billy, leaping to his feet.
“I’ve got this, lad,” said Ken. “Oi! You! Carly!” he boomed. “You walk out that door and you’re off the team. D’you hear me? Everyone gets one chance to screw up and this was yours, but if you leave now, you’re barred. There’s no coming back.”
Harriet put her head in her hands. She felt sure Carly would keep on walking; that girl spited herself more than anyone else ever could.
“Come on, Carls,” said Billy. “Don’t be a dick.”
“We need you!” Isabel called.
“What about our duet?” Ricco added.
Carly had reached the door.
“One chance, Carly,” said Ken, only slightly booming. “Make the right choice. Stay and be part of this team. Everyone wants you here. Don’t blow it.”
To Harriet’s astonishment, Carly turned back and looked at them.
“You’re not the first person to make a mistake, lass,” said Ken. “It’s how you deal with them that counts. Come back over here and take the bollocking that I’m about to dish out to you and your mates and then it’s done. Over. We never need to talk about it again.”
Harriet held her breath; she knew the warring emotions that would be colliding in Carly’s head. Come back! Harriet willed her. Carly took a step toward the group, then another and another. Her hands in her pockets, her head held defiantly high. She reached them and sat down between Ricco and Leo. Leo reached both his arms around her and pulled her tightly to him. “Thank you for staying,” he said quietly.
Ken nodded, and Harriet waited for her heart to return to normal speed.
“Okay then, now we’re all present and accounted for,” Ken began. “This is technically a building site and as such is under my jurisdiction, and I do not tolerate drugs being consumed on my site. Do I make myself clear?”
“Absolutely.” Harriet nodded emphatically.
“What about the rest of you?”
They each mumbled their understanding. Ricco looked sullenly up at Harriet and added, “Sorry, miss.”
“All right,” said Ken. “That’s the end of it, as far as I’m concerned, but cross me again at your peril.” He puffed out a breath that seemed to instantly dispel his displeasure. “Blimey, it’s dusty as a spinster’s bloomers in here—why don’t you take the kids into the cocktail lounge to work this evening. We can’t do any more in there until the new wall plaster’s dried, and it’ll be a darn sight quieter than it is here.”
“Thanks, Ken.” She smiled at him. She wanted to hug him, but she held back. He rubbed the back of his neck and made a dismissive pft sound.
“Well,” he growled, “all that dust’s no good for their young lungs.”
Ken carried on down toward the stage and began to bellow orders at his team, and five sets of eyes bored expectantly into Harriet’s face. She met each of them in turn.
“Okay,” she began in her quiet but dangerous voice. “I think we can all agree that was a stupid thing to do and that ‘it’ and all variations of ‘it’ will not happen again.”
“Are you going to dob us in?” asked Ricco.
If the same situation had occurred at school, she would have been duty-bound to report them. But this was after hours, and they were not representing the school. Ricco’s dad smoked medicinal cannabis to treat his chronic pain, and though he would doubtless be annoyed with his son, the chances were that Ricco had swiped the joint from home in the first instance, which rendered it a somewhat gray area. And as for Carly, her stepmum had left with her younger brother last year when her dad had lost his job, and his functioning alcoholism became the nonfunctioning kind. No good would come of telling him.
She let out a long breath. “No. I’m not. But this is your one and only pass. You heard Ken. I need all of you with me if this is going to succeed.”
Ricco nodded. “Thanks.”
Carly, who still had her head on Leo’s shoulder, mumbled, “Yeah, thanks. Sorry.”
“Okay,” said Harriet. “I am officially drawing a line under this incident. As far as I’m concerned, it’s done, put to bed, and we don’t need to visit it again. Now let’s get out of here.”
“I was hoping to make a start on the first backcloth tonight.” Leo sniffed and sneezed again. “The only space big enough to lay them out flat is the stage.”
“At the rate this crew works, I doubt it’ll take longer than a couple of days to replace all the rigging and hang the new curtains, and then it’ll be all yours,” Harriet said.
“There won’t be any need for backcloths if we don’t start rehearsals soon,” added Isabel, worrying at her black-painted fingernails. “I’m not gonna make a twat of myself in front of everyone I know.”
“Too late,” Billy smirked. Isabel punched him in the arm.
“The work we’ve done so far is all relevant.” Harriet tried to sound confident even though she’d started checking her phone hourly for news from Gideon Clarke. “It’s important that we familiarize ourselves with the way in which the play is structured. And then there’s the language; it’s no good simply reciting the lines. If you don’t understand the meaning of what you’re saying, your cadences will be off.”
“Who’s that up there with James?” asked Carly, who clearly hadn’t listened to one word Harriet had said.
“Maybe he’s brought his mum along,” Ricco sniggered.
“Looks like Cruella de Vil,” said Isabel.
Harriet followed Carly’s pointing finger up to one of the royal boxes overlooking the stage. James looked down and gave her a halfhearted wave. Sat next to him was Evaline, a pair of opera glasses held to her eyes. Oh god, had they seen all that play out?
“That is our patroness,” said Harriet distractedly. “The theater owner.”
“I wonder what she wants,” Carly said.
“To wear your skin like a coat,” Ricco quipped, and the others snickered.
“Um, you guys go on ahead, and I’ll meet you in the cocktail lounge. If anyone tries to stop you, tell them it was Ken’s idea.” Harriet shooed them off and began to make her way to where Evaline observed them from on high.
“Good evening.” Evaline’s voice scratched as Harriet pushed through the curtain into the box. The stale reek of old dust was stronger here, closer to the stage, and for once Harriet was glad of Evaline’s overpowering lily of the valley perfume.
“Hello,” Harriet replied. She steeled herself. “How long have you been here?”
“Just long enough to catch the end of Ken showing the students how to project their voices,” said James quickly. Holding her gaze and nodding imperceptibly at her. “An impassioned speech from Romeo and Juliet , if I’m not mistaken?”
Harriet wasn’t sure she had ever wanted to jump a man’s bones more. She smiled brightly and hoped her legs wouldn’t give way with relief.
“Yes,” she replied. “The Prince of Verona, Act One, laying down the law.”
“As I thought,” James replied.
“Yes, yes, but what about the new curtains?” Evaline snapped.
The new curtains had completely slipped Harriet’s mind.
“Oh, we’re all so pleased about them.” Harriet hoped she was effusing the right amount of gush. “It’s very generous of you.”
“I wasn’t going to bother, but Mr. Knight convinced me that since everything else was being necessarily replaced, I might as well ‘go the whole hog.’?”
Harriet felt sure that was the first time Evaline had ever uttered such a phrase.
Down on the stage, people lined up in a row and began moving forward as one, slowly rolling up the old curtains like a giant roulade. Backstage—which was visible to all now that the curtains were gone—was occupied by a swarm of maintenance people climbing up and down tall stepladders, the tops of which were hidden by the wooden painted pelmet that framed the stage. Ropes like thick jungle vines hung loosely down and coiled on the stage boards waiting to be made useful again.
“It’s very kind of you,” said Harriet. “We appreciate it.”
“It isn’t kindness, it’s business,” Evaline barked.
“I wonder, have you thought any more about securing a spot for the community in any contracts for sales going forward?” Harriet asked.
“No.”
“No, you haven’t, or no, you won’t?” she pressed.
“I take it that was your cast?” Evaline gestured with her opera glasses at where the famous five had been sitting.
James gave Harriet a look, which she conjectured to mean Don’t push it . She gave him the benefit of the doubt, but she’d take it up with him later.
“So far, yes,” said Harriet. “We’re hoping for some new additions soon.”
Evaline’s mouth turned down in distaste. “I must be going. It’s Cook’s night off.”
“Of course.” James nodded. “What’s on the menu this evening?”
“Risotto. It takes time to make it right and you know how I like to eat at eight o’clock sharp.”
“You’re making it yourself?” Harriet blurted, incredulous.
“I like to cook. You seem surprised, Ms. Smith.”
“Oh. No. I mean, yes. I mean. It’s only that I wouldn’t bother making something like risotto just for myself, I’d probably buy one that I could microwave.”
Evaline stared at her hard and when she spoke her voice was flint. “Am I, in your opinion, not worth cooking for?”
Harriet swallowed. “No. That’s not—”
“But you do appear to be suggesting that the effort to cook good food should only be undertaken when there is someone else present, and that a person who has no one but themself ought not to bother.”
Evaline had pinned her absolutely.
“I was just thinking about myself, really, about how I don’t tend to cook if it’s only, well, me. My daughter’s been away, and I’m still getting my head around it.”
“ Only? ” Evaline exclaimed. “ Only you? ‘Only’ and ‘me’ are words that should not be used together. Being alone does not make a person less worthy of good things. I deserve to prepare myself delicious food, whether that be a risotto for supper or a soufflé for breakfast or both. I refuse to curtail life’s little enjoyments because I am without a companion. I am worth the effort, and you should feel the same way about yourself, young woman. Don’t live your life as though you are only a shadow without other people to validate you. Validate yourself!”
Harriet opened and closed her mouth a few times saying, “I, I, I,” but she had nothing.
James, seeming to sense that she’d had her mind blown by their haughty benefactor’s words, stepped in. “Evaline, would you allow me to escort you safely home?” he asked.
“I don’t need to be seen home, safely or otherwise. I’m not an invalid,” she snapped.
“Of course.” James, in Harriet’s opinion, had the patience of a saint. “In that case, I’ll join Harriet and the students in their endeavors.”
“You can help me down the stairs.” Evaline narrowed her eyes. “Or would you have me fall down and break a hip? That would keep me out of your hair for a while, wouldn’t it? Perhaps I’d break my neck and save you any more bother.”
It was incredible to Harriet that someone could be so insightful and such a cow-bag all at the same time. James’s eyes rose to the gold-painted ceiling of the box, and she knew he was counting to ten in his head as Evaline stowed her opera glasses in her handbag and, using her two sticks, creaked herself up to standing. She wobbled and listed to the left, and Harriet put her arms out to steady her but got a stick jabbed into her shin for her troubles.
“Don’t fuss so!” she snapped. “I can do it.”
“You are a tempest of contradictions!” Harriet snapped back without thinking. “You’re either so frail that stairs could kill you or you are indestructible—which is it?” She rubbed her leg.
Evaline grinned, making her thick pink lipstick crack.
“So, you have got a backbone after all. Perhaps James was right about you.”
Harriet cast a quizzical glance at James.
“I only said you had what it takes to make this project work,” he said, trapped between Evaline’s and Harriet’s gazes.
“?‘Gumption,’?” Evaline croaked out. “That’s the word he used. I didn’t believe him. But, well, we shall see. James.” She held out her arm. “Till we meet again, Ms. Smith.”
The group had settled themselves at a pasting table in the cocktail lounge and were discussing Ebenezer Scrooge’s motivations and how he came to be so hard-hearted when James joined them.
“Could I have a quick word?” he asked, catching her eye.
“Of course.”
“Ooooh!” Carly said in a singsong voice.
“Old-person love is kind of cute,” said Leo, smiling.
Harriet shushed him as she stood to leave. Old-person love indeed!
They pushed through the saloon doors and out into the corridor, where a man wearing a Nike cap backward and over-ear headphones was expertly layering plaster onto the wall, while a woman in dungarees was painstakingly reconstructing a section of broken cornice.
“I’m sorry about Evaline,” he said, when they were out of earshot. “She speaks as she finds, and she generally finds a lot to speak about. She can be a bit much.”
That’s an understatement!
“As much as I hate to admit it, she’s got me pegged. She’s astute, I’ll give her that much. Thank you for, you know, not ratting me out to Evaline about Carly and Ricco’s little indiscretion. I assume you heard it all.”
“I got the gist,” he said. “Thankfully, Evaline had turned down her hearing aid because of all the building noise.”
“I guess I caught a break on that one.”
“I imagine Evaline would have strong views on recreational drug use, especially in her theater,” said James. “You would likely have lost any chance at a community space going forward. Unlike Ken, she doesn’t give second chances. She barely gives first chances.”
“I honestly don’t know how you tolerate her.”
“This may sound hard to believe, but she grows on you.” He pulled a face like even he couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“Like skin tags,” she deadpanned back, and he laughed.
“More like a wallpaper that at first you think you’ll never get used to until after a while you find you’ve grown quite fond of it.”
“Hmmm. I think it’ll be a long time before I feel any kind of fondness for Evaline Winter.”
“Well, anyway, I’m sorry that she gave you a hard time. If it’s any consolation, it means that she likes you. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t bother.”
“Tough love, huh?”
“I think tough is the only language she knows. This theater was her father’s whole world and there wasn’t much left over for his only daughter.”
“That’s sad.”
“He had no time for her when the theater was thriving, and then when things started to go downhill he became a recluse, shut himself away from everything and everyone.”
“Including Evaline,” Harriet guessed.
“He sent her away to school. It needn’t have ended in the way it did. The theater could have kept going on a smaller scale but he refused to open it up to local productions, preferring to have no show at all than what he deemed as beneath him. His snobbery was the death of the place, and eventually the death of him too. Evaline blames this place for ruining her father. She’s worked tirelessly to rebuild the Winter family fortunes and left the theater to rot.”
It was hard for Harriet to picture Evaline as a girl, desperately trying to get her father to notice her. “I guess letting a bunch of student dramatists loose in her dad’s hallowed theater is one way of giving her old man the bird.”
He laughed.
“You could be right. Fitz-William had a lot of offers for the building when the theater closed. He even had one from an Italian casino owner who wanted to extend his empire and he felt Little Beck Foss was the place to do it.”
“Really? Here?” Harriet was incredulous.
“Las Vegas wasn’t much more than a dusty little railroad town before the casinos went up. Maybe this guy thought he could do the same here. It’s all academic anyway, because Fitz-William turned down the casino and all the other offers, even though Evaline begged him to sell up. This place is her own personal ghost.”
“Well, now I just feel sorry for her,” Harriet harrumphed.
“Don’t. She’s a difficult, spiteful, selfish woman, and I say that as someone who genuinely likes her. There are plenty of people who’ve had it a lot worse than Evaline who have seen their way to be far nicer humans. But her history helps me to understand her, and that in turn enables me to represent my client’s interests to the best of my ability.” He checked his watch. “I have to make a call, but I’d like to join the group afterward if that’s okay?”
She smiled and said that it was. He was a conundrum. His emotional intelligence was very attractive. But his willingness to work for a woman so wholly unpleasant gave her pause. Then again, he was a solicitor, that was his job…and then her phone chimed with a call from a parent, and her contemplations were pushed to the back of the queue.