Fifty-Three Lucie
Fifty-Three
LUCIE
‘S top fidgeting.’
‘I’m not,’ I say, wriggling again. The stiff fabric of my new costume is making my skin itch. Or maybe it’s nerves. Either way, it’s uncomfortable.
Cass clamps a hand either side of my waist. ‘Be still, madam, or you will feel my wrath.’
‘What’s that from?’ I ask, looking back, groaning when she corrects my position again.
‘Cass the First, Part One,’ she replies, smiling with a mouthful of pins. ‘Stone-cold theatre classic.’
It’s good to have her here. I’m so glad she agreed to step in to help Purdy with the costumes for Lilia’s gala production. Purdy is an undisputed legend, but seven of us in the cast with several costume changes each was too much for her to handle alone. Added to this, she and Cass are now as thick as thieves, which is brilliant to see.
‘Don’t be nervous,’ a voice calls from the doorway.
I look around, ignoring Cass’s protests as I move. ‘You came!’
Ced beams brightly. ‘Of course I came, darling! Dress rehearsals are God’s way of keeping us humble. It’ll be sheer hell, but you’re going to be fabulous.’
‘She will if she stands still enough for me to fix her frock,’ Cass growls, pulling my body straight again. ‘Lovely to see you, Ced.’
‘Likewise, dear heart.’
We open tomorrow for our single performance and the production is far from ready. Almost everyone in the cast has fallen out with someone, the tech and lighting guys are annoying everyone with their always-in-the-way stepladders, and our props mistress has locked herself in the loo in tears. All pretty standard for a dress rehearsal, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
Dougie has more or less sneaked control of directing duties, a skill all of us are grateful for. Michael has proved himself adept at distracting our patron whenever exchanges become heated. Between the two of them, they are handling Lilia brilliantly. Everybody respects that. We love Lilia, but bypassing her is the only way we’ll make it to opening night.
‘How are the lines?’ Ced settles into a faded armchair in the dressing room that looks like it’s been here longer than the building in which it lives.
‘Pretty much there.’
‘She means word-perfect,’ Cass corrects, pinning the last section of my skirt. ‘Has been for days.’
‘I don’t doubt that for a second.’
‘Thanks, Ced.’
‘Right, slip the skirt off carefully and I’ll sew up those darts,’ Cass says, helping me to remove it. My jeans beneath feel far more comfy as the offending costume leaves me and I instantly relax. ‘Cheers.’
‘Welcome.’
When Cass leaves, Ced pats the plastic seat next to him. ‘So, come on. I need the juice on this shebang.’
I gingerly accept the seat, my body complaining. I ache today. A road was closed on my route to WhatNews? this morning and I had to cycle a far longer route there and back. The demands of the production pieces mean a lot of stage business, so I rarely get a chance to sit, and my head is stuffed with scenes and lines and stage directions. At least my shifts at Gonzalo’s aren’t happening this week. It’s the first time I’ve taken a week off in the four years I’ve worked there and it feels very strange.
‘Well, nothing’s ready, we haven’t even been let in the venue for a run-through yet and now half the cast and crew aren’t talking to each other.’
‘Pretty standard stuff then, eh?’ Ced chuckles. ‘I used to love the dress rehearsal battles. Gorgeous unpredictability. And how’s the extended company?’
I check to make sure none of my fellow actors are within earshot. With tensions bubbling as close to the surface as they are today, I can’t risk another reason for drama. ‘They’re great, really. But we haven’t had chance to get to know each other, with rehearsals being as fractured as they have been. I’m wondering if a small company like ours is best for me. Here I feel a little … lost.’
Ced nods. ‘I must say I’ve settled happily into the rhythm of two players. Or three …’
‘Two,’ I reply, firmly.
‘Of course. Two is always best.’
I know that look he’s giving me. I won’t rise to it. I also suspect he’s still in contact with Theo, but at least he hasn’t tried to challenge me on the subject at every opportunity. Unlike Lilia …
‘To be honest, I’ll be relieved when I can get back to The Garden Players. I’m just not cut out for a larger company.’
Ced snorts. ‘Dearest Lu-lu, please take this in the spirit in which it was intended, but absolute bollocks . If you buy that load of old bunkum, idiots like Sleazy Dunc win. You’ve found this tough because it’s stretched you, not because you’re incapable. Stretching is a good thing, darling. If you don’t do it regularly, you become inflexible. And old. And liable to snap at anything.’
His analogy is pure Ced logic, but it makes me smile.
Is he right? I’ve felt the injustice of being denied bigger stages over the years, but have I also held myself back? The possibility rests uneasily with me.
‘Lu, we need you in the hall.’ Cass is back, her head appearing around the door. ‘It’s kicking off in there.’
‘Okay, thanks.’ I offer Ced a grim smile. ‘Duty calls. Come on through, if you like. There are some seats laid out at the back.’
Ced leaps to his feet, rubbing his hands with glee. ‘Ooh, grandstand seats to the slaughter! Lay on, Macduff! ’
The sound of raised voices greets us the moment we arrive on the stage. My fellow cast members look on helplessly, our view of the commotion hampered by the bright spotlights casting the peripheries of the room into shadow.
‘ What is going on ?’ Lilia demands, followed by Michael’s low tone in reply, the words respectfully kept out of earshot. There’s a series of angry, rhythmic taps as she and her cane cross to the source of the disturbance.
‘… I will not let you in …’
‘… talk to Lilia …’
‘… do you have no manners?’
Everyone can hear it now, the tech crew joining the acting company to gawp at the unfolding drama by the entrance.
The heated exchange continues, Lilia’s voice rising magnificently above the rest. But then, it stops. There’s a long pause, followed by more cane taps as our patron returns.
What on earth is going on?
‘Lucie. You’re wanted.’
I stare into the bank of spotlights. ‘Me?’
‘I see no other Lucies here, do you? To the back of the room, please.’
Ced touches my arm as I start to leave. ‘If you need me, just yell.’
‘Cheers,’ I whisper back.
Panic fixes a killer hold on my throat as I duck between the spotlight stands. My eyes take a moment to readjust to the hall’s natural light. I can make out three figures: Dougie, Lilia and someone else with their back to me. Dougie is shaking his head emphatically, arms folded tight across his chest like a nightclub bouncer. Lilia, beside him, glares at the stranger but says nothing. I can’t see what the other person is doing but I can hear the deep burr of his voice as I approach.
Lilia looks over and beckons me.
When I reach them the third figure turns – and I stop dead.
‘No, I’m sorry,’ I say, preparing to leave.
‘Lucie, at least listen to what he’s come to say.’
Dougie steps protectively to my side. ‘You don’t have to say anything to him, kid. Say the word and I’ll throw the sleazy Yank out.’
‘Honestly Dougie, where do you think you are?’ Lilia stares him down. ‘This is Stratford-upon-Avon, not the Wild West.’
‘We still have villains here,’ Dougie hisses back through gritted teeth.
Lilia ignores him and turns to me. ‘This is my show. I need you here, like I need all of my cast.’ She glances at the third person – the last person I ever wanted to see. ‘But he needs your help.’
I can’t believe what she’s saying. ‘I need to be here.’
‘Please, Lucie. We need to talk …’
‘I’ve said everything I wanted. I have a rehearsal to get back to.’
‘I’ll beg, if I have to.’
Greg Dabrowski steps into the light. When he does, I hardly recognise him. He looks as if he hasn’t slept for a week, thick grey stubble flecked with grey shading his jaw and throat. Gone is his smug, entitled attitude: instead hesitant, dark-ringed eyes make careful contact with mine. The change shocks me into stillness, my intended escape halted.
‘Lilia can’t spare me.’
‘You have my permission to go.’ Her tone becomes feather-soft. ‘I think you should.’
I don’t want this. I don’t want to go anywhere with the man who traded my heart and reputation for the sake of a sleazy agenda, who tried to reduce me to nothing in front of a packed Gonzalo’s and replaced me with a bigger name when I wouldn’t play along. He’s used me enough.
‘Give me one reason why I should.’
Greg risks a step towards me. ‘Because you need to know the truth. And I need your help.’
‘If Lucie goes, I go.’ Ced appears beside me, bumping his hand against mine.
The director’s eyes travel between us, a thousand contingencies being considered. ‘Fine. But we need to go now: there isn’t much time.’
Because you need to know the truth . The truth about what? Has he been put up to this? If so, who by? Not Theo, for sure: he was so scared of his director he was willing to throw me away for him.
I want to refuse and storm back to the company who are watching us like goggle-eyed possums from the stage. I have every right to do that, after everything.
But what if the truth finally frees my mind of Theo?
Slowly taking Ced’s hand and feeling the steadiness of his support, I face Greg Dabrowski.
‘So tell me.’
His relief is impossible to conceal. ‘Not here. You need to come with me.’