The Silent Appeal #2
Oh. Lucas is hosting a friend’s thirtieth birthday party at Lunar tonight. He’ll be having a few drinks and might not be safe to drive, even tomorrow morning.
2:29 p.m. Lucas wrote:
He’s a good mate.
2:30 p.m. Amelia wrote:
Can I even get on the bus with my leg still sore? It’s so frustrating I could cry!
2:31 p.m. Georgia wrote:
My bus pass expired.
2:32 p.m. Fran wrote:
Ok, I’ll pick you all up.
2:35 p.m. Georgia wrote:
Amelia broke the coffeemaker.
2:36 p.m. Amelia wrote:
Not broken, it just stopped working.
2:38 p.m. Georgia wrote:
You were last to use it and you put the pod in wrong. It got jammed.
2:40 p.m. Fran wrote:
Oh no! That’s a very expensive machine. Perhaps something is just stuck in it? I’ll have a look when I pick you up.
2:43 p.m. Amelia wrote:
When you get it going again, we need more pods. Could you bring some of the red arabica and decaf espresso?
2:45 p.m. Lucas wrote:
Cheers, Fran. Yeah, this mate’s had some trouble and we want to give his twenties a good send-off.
2:46 p.m. Fran wrote:
Will you be fit for Big Sunday? It’s a long day of set-building and rehearsing.
2:48 p.m. Lucas wrote:
Yeah, I’ll be wrecked but got a little pick-me-up if need be.
2:49 p.m. Amelia wrote:
He means Red Bull.
Message exchange between Fran Elroy-Jones and Amelia Stibson on May 31, 2025:
2:54 p.m. Fran wrote:
How did you get on with the doctor, Ams? Did they give you stronger painkillers for play week?
2:57 p.m. Amelia wrote:
No. She said I can’t have anything stronger because I’ll get addicted. I have to “push through” this stage. How will I push through the play nights?
3:02 p.m. Fran wrote:
Fingers crossed adrenaline kicks in. I had terrible backache when I was in Cabaret at uni. Could barely move during the day, but every night I was singing and dancing as if nothing was wrong. The director called it Doctor Footlights.
3:05 p.m. Amelia wrote:
Hope he visits me. I’ve spent so long rehearsing, and now we’ve sorted our flat, I really want to enjoy the play.
3:06 p.m. Fran wrote:
Well, it’s temporary. You’re still looking for somewhere. Any sign of Georgia moving out?
3:07 p.m. Amelia wrote:
No, but at least she has her own room now and is out of my sight. She wants to be “homeless” to pressure her baby daddy into leaving his wife. She’s texting him ALL the time.
3:07 p.m. Fran wrote:
Oh dear.
3:08 p.m. Amelia wrote:
Like he hasn’t left yet, so he’s not going to, is he? She needs to get over him.
3:14 p.m. Fran wrote:
Well, emotions cloud our judgment. Maybe treat her with kindness and be grateful her pregnancy has been healthy so far?
3:16 p.m. Amelia wrote:
It’s her that should be grateful to us. Instead, she acts entitled to do, say, and eat whatever she wants.
3:19 p.m. Fran wrote:
Who knows, she may be out of your way sooner than you think and you two will be free to move back to your flat.
3:20 p.m. Amelia wrote:
No time soon, she’s got three months to go
3:20 p.m. Fran wrote:
I’ll pick you all up at one tomorrow.
3:21 p.m. Amelia wrote:
Don’t forget the coffee pods.
Message exchange between Sarah-Jane and Kevin MacDonald on June 1, 2025:
11:44 a.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Screenshots of spreadsheets attached. Pay attention to column five where it says who is responsible for which task.
11:47 a.m. Kevin wrote:
So many Kevins.
11:48 a.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Well, we need this play up to the highest standard on opening night thanks to the NADA judge, so blame them.
11:51 a.m. Kevin wrote:
You can remove “fix replacement light to rig.” Joel did that a couple of weeks ago.
11:52 a.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
But I’ve sent that screenshot to the whole committee!
11:53 a.m. Kevin wrote:
Most of them know he’s done it (and if they don’t, I’m sure Celia will mention it).
11:53 a.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Why didn’t you tell me? Now I look like a prize chump!
11:53 a.m. Kevin wrote:
Hardly.
11:57 a.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Thanks to Mum defecting and Harley letting us down, I’m totally out of the loop!
12:05 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
This is what happens when you don’t go to rehearsals every week. You end up on the margins, like those former members who think they’re still remembered when they’re not, everyone is humoring them out of pity because they’re sad, sorry outcasts. THAT’S ME!
12:09 p.m. Kevin wrote:
You’ll be back in the fray when Sammy’s old enough.
12:10 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Incorrect. I’ll be back when babysitting duties pass to my co-parent, i.e., the next play.
12:11 p.m. Kevin wrote:
Who knows what might happen before then.
12:12 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
What could possibly happen to prevent you babysitting?
12:12 p.m. Kevin wrote:
We’ll discuss it after the play.
12:13 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
In the meantime, the committee are laughing at my spreadsheets, and worse—ignoring them.
12:15 p.m. Kevin wrote:
This is not your circus.
12:15 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
DON’T RUB IT IN! It SHOULD be mine!
12:23 p.m. Kevin wrote:
You can give Nicky-Rose more to do than this. She’s only down to do the pre–dress rehearsal speech and check the radio link every night. Easy life!
12:25 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
I don’t want to overwhelm her. This is her first Fairway play in twenty years and you need her to concentrate on elevating the artistic merit of the production.
12:26 p.m. Kevin wrote:
I should be doing that. Yet according to this, I’m sweeping the hall, stacking beer in the fridge, and sticking numbers on chairs.
12:27 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Perfect storm of fewer front-of-house volunteers and a policy of not giving the cast menial jobs on play nights. Where are you?
12:27 p.m. Kevin wrote:
Next in line at the cash and carry.
12:28 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Toilet rolls, paper towels, and cardboard cup holders—all recycled and recyclable.
12:29 p.m. Kevin wrote:
Yes, yes, yes, I’ve read the spreadsheet, thanks.
Message exchange between Celia Halliday and Sarah-Jane MacDonald on June 1, 2025:
12:30 p.m. Celia wrote:
This spreadsheet is out of date.
12:30 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
I know. The light is already fixed to the rig.
12:31 p.m. Celia wrote:
And the tickets have arrived from the printers. And the public liability insurance certificate has been printed out and laminated.
12:32 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
But has it got Blu Tack on each corner, ready to be stuck up on the inside double doors?
12:32 p.m. Celia wrote:
No.
12:32 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
The spreadsheet is still valid then. See you later.
Message exchange between Emma Crooks and Sarah-Jane MacDonald on June 1, 2025:
12:34 p.m. Emma wrote:
The sculptures are ready. I’ll bring them this afternoon.
12:34 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Ah, you saw the spreadsheet! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Emma.
12:35 p.m. Emma wrote:
I modeled them on Gerda, although more as I imagined her than the woman playing her, who isn’t quite as inspiring.
12:37 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Oh. I’m sure that’ll be fine. The cast will react as if they recognize Gerda in the sculpture and the audience will believe it. We’re lucky we have such a talented artist to produce original pieces.
12:39 p.m. Emma wrote:
My pleasure. Sarah-Jane, you know what good friends we are. May I ask you something, in confidence?
12:39 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Of course.
12:40 p.m. Emma wrote:
Do you know where Kevin is right now?
12:41 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
At Fowey cash and carry with a long shopping list, the Fairway Players’ debit card, and John’s blessing. Why?
12:43 p.m. Emma wrote:
Because I’m watching him. He’s in Lockley Bois Park, sitting on a bench with a woman.
12:44 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Are you sure it’s him?
12:45 p.m. Emma wrote:
Yes, I’ve just finished covering a friend’s Yoga in the Park class.
12:47 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
He’s going straight to the hall with the supplies. Perhaps he was a bit early and stopped off.
12:47 p.m. Emma wrote:
With a woman?
12:48 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
He’ll have bumped into someone he knows.
12:48 p.m. Emma wrote:
It’s difficult to see from here, but she looks familiar.
12:48 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
He has a wide circle of business acquaintances.
12:49 p.m. Emma wrote:
They look closer than business acquaintances would ever be.
12:52 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
Well, you know Kevin. Always friendly and helpful to everyone. Thanks for letting me know.
12:53 p.m. Emma wrote:
She’s just turned round enough for me to recognize her.
12:54 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
I’ll be at Big Sunday for as long as Sammy is well-behaved. Look forward to seeing the sculptures.
12:55 p.m. Emma wrote:
Do you want to know who it is?
12:56 p.m. Sarah-Jane wrote:
He’ll tell me when it crosses his mind.
12:56 p.m. Emma wrote:
It’s Fran.
To: Joyce Walford
From: Marianne Payne
Date: June 1, 2025
Subject: Barry
Hello, Joyce,
We’ll park on the main road and Mick will carry anything you need across the verge. Don’t try to move it yourself unless Barry helps. We won’t have interval teas and coffees if you do yourself a mischief.
Joyce, I don’t want to worry you, especially not with play week looming and Myra due in the next few months, but Karen’s Mark told us something the other day.
You know he’s one of the Digworth sons? He’s not who we’d pick for her, but she seems to think he’s husband material.
Well, a few weeks ago, that Lucas started getting friendly with Mark at rehearsals.
Karen noticed it before he did—she said he hadn’t spoken to Mark until the sleep out, then suddenly he’s trying to be his new best friend.
Next thing Mark knows, Lucas is asking questions about freezers and body bags.
People have a morbid fascination with what he does, and he’s used to it, people generally ask the same sort of things.
But what Lucas asked stood out. Mark is from a long line of funeral directors and it’s not the first time they’ve been “approached.”
Now, Mark has four brothers and his dad all looking out for him. Your Barry only has you and Nick. He’s working for Lucas and we don’t want to see him taken in by someone who sees him as a soft touch.