by TJ Green
They moved down the corridor methodically, but there were only another couple of small dressing rooms to look through. An additional door housed one big room, which they reasoned most of the cast would use, and again it was full of props and costumes. Once they’d finished there, they poked around in cleaning cupboards, finally bumping into Reuben and El returning from the platforms above them.
El looked invigorated. “This place is amazing! Behind stage is so much fun.”
“And hazardous,” Reuben added. “Fall from up there, and your brains would be mush.”
“What’s up there?” Alex asked.
“A couple of gantries to access the lights and the back drops, but nothing too sophisticated. And I didn’t see a Phantom of the Opera, either!”
“And no sign of magic, I presume?”
“None.”
Avery sighed, frustrated. “None where we’ve looked, either. From what Dan said to me, they rehearse at peoples’ homes, normally. This would only be the first or second time they have been here.”
“So whatever is affecting them wouldn’t have been here,” El reasoned.
“It might have exacerbated it,” Reuben suggested. “Anyway, let’s head back to the dressing room, see if Briar and lover boy have found anything.”
Hunter was pulling his t-shirt on when they entered the room, and Briar was sitting at the table looking at the script that Newton had left there.
“Any luck?” Avery asked, fearing they hadn’t found anything. They both looked disappointed and frustrated.
“None,” Briar confirmed. “But what’s the one thing they would all have had access to for weeks?” She lifted the script and waved it. “This!”
“Of course!” El said. “And? Anything magical?”
“No.”
“So, what did you suggest it for, doofus?” Reuben exclaimed.
Briar looked exasperated. “Because there is more than one script, dummy! This is a modern copy—fresh paper, pretty clean. What if there are older scripts lying around that have been enchanted, or cursed, or whatever you want to call it?”
“Briar!” Alex said, grabbing the script from her and scanning it. “That is a stroke of genius!”
She shrugged. “We don’t know if I’m right, yet, but it’s the most obvious common element.”
“And we can’t check that out until tomorrow when they resume rehearsals, because they must have their lines with them,” Avery pointed out.
While they were talking, Newton returned, and he looked hopeful. “Please tell me you found something.”
“Maybe,” Briar told him, tentatively. “There’s nothing backstage, but I think the common source for whatever’s going on here might be the scripts—or some of them.” She looked at the others. “Who can come here tomorrow and speak to the cast? I can’t, I’m afraid. I can’t leave Eli on his own, we’re far too busy. I’ve even roped Hunter in to help me.”
Hunter winked. “Spending all day with you is a pleasure, and besides, I feel I should keep an eye on that ladies man, Eli.”
“You really don’t need to,” Briar said, chastising him, but Avery could see she looked pleased.
“I can’t make it, either,” Alex said. “I’m working tomorrow afternoon, and it’s too short notice to get someone to cover.”
“I can,” El said, eagerly. “We’re busy, but nothing that Zoey can’t cope with.” Zoey was a Wiccan and had worked with El for the last couple of years. Recently, another friend of hers had also started working part-time in the shop on weekends to free El up to make jewellery in her workshop behind the shop.
“So can I,” Avery said, nodding. “Dan and Sally will be fine for a few hours. I can check with Dan to see what time they’ll be rehearsing. His mate will know.”
Reuben grinned. “Count me in.” He rubbed his hands together. “Beltane is hotting up guys!”
10
“You think the script is cursed?”
“Or something like that,” Avery speculated, as Dan looked at her in disbelief. “It’s just a theory at this stage. I need to get into the rehearsal this afternoon to speak to the cast. Can you arrange it with your mate?”
“Harry? Sure. It shouldn’t be a problem.” Dan put his coffee cup down and pulled his phone from his back pocket. “I was going to call him anyway after what happened last night. I’m just relieved he wasn’t involved.”
It was Saturday morning, and Avery and Dan were talking in low voices behind the counter at Happenstance Books. Avery had arrived late to work, as she hadn’t gone to bed until nearly three in the morning, and she still felt knackered. This was the first moment she’d had to speak to Dan, as the shop had been so busy. Unfortunately, the customers—locals and tourists—were full of chatter about the stabbing the previous night. A few were worried, but most were intrigued, and if anything, interest in the play had shot up. A couple of locals had informed them that the TV news team had been reporting from outside the theatre, and Avery was relieved there’d been no photographers there the previous night.
Avery looked out the window while Dan called his friend. There was a buzz about White Haven today. The pavement was crowded with people, cars crawled down the streets, and there was a general air of anticipation, helped by the good weather. April was always so changeable, but today there were blue skies with no wind, which meant people strolled rather than hurried between shops. The sea front would look amazing, she just knew it, and she looked forward to heading down there later.
Dan looked bleak when he finished his call. “He sounds terrible!”
“I’m not surprised. One of the cast members went nuts and stabbed another.”
“It’s more than that,” Dan said, worried. “He sounds even more intense than he did the other day!”
“What did he say?” Avery asked, alarmed.
Dan looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear, but lowered his voice anyway. “Harry said, ‘Frocin was asking for it. He should learn not to meddle.’” Dan’s eyes were wide. “What the fuck? It sounds like he condones it! And who calls a cast member by their character’s name?” Dan rubbed his hands through his hair until it stuck up wildly on his head.
Avery felt a chill run through her. “That sounds bad. Very bad.”
“Bad? It sounds nuts!”
“What character does Harry play?”
“Er, Governal, I think.”
The name sounded familiar, and Avery struggled to think of why. And then it struck her. “Newton interviewed him last night. He said he struggled to recall his real name, and insisted he was truly called Governal.”
Dan’s eyes widened further. “You mean he couldn’t remember his name was Harry?”
“No.” Dan fell silent in shock, and Avery recalled what Hunter had said about the play. “What do you know about this story?” she asked, keeping her voice as low as Dan’s.
“A bit,” he said, shrugging. “It’s a famous Cornish tale that precedes the King Arthur, Guinevere, Lancelot love story. It’s thought to have influenced it, and Romeo and Juliet, and it’s set in the Arthurian world. In some tales, Tristan is a knight at King Arthur’s court. The story is bound up with the myth of Lyonesse, too.”
“Lyonesse?” Avery asked, thinking it sounded vaguely familiar. “Why do I know that name?”
“It’s an island that supposedly lay off the Cornish coast, beyond Land’s End somewhere, maybe near Scilly, but it sank beneath the waves. Tristan, from the play, was the heir to the Lyonesse throne, but it disappeared while he was at King Mark’s court.” Seeing Avery’s blank expression, he elaborated. “The King Mark that in the play was married to Iseult, who Tristan had fallen in love with.”
“Oh!” Avery said, as she remembered. “Of course I’ve heard of Lyonesse. It’s a bit like the Atlantis tale. A mystical isle that was somehow lost beneath the waves. And a legend, right? Not real?”
“Depends on who you ask. Many people believe that Lyonesse once existed. I can read up on it if y
ou like, get some more details.” Dan looked pleased to be able to offer help where he could. He had extensive knowledge of many myths and legends, and what he didn’t know, he was happy to research.
“Yes please, that would be really useful. Hunter is familiar with the story, but I’m not sure if he knows about the legends behind it.”
Dan nodded thoughtfully. “And many of them are legends, Avery. It’s tied up with Arthurian myth, and Cornwall is rife with it. It blends so well with our past, it’s hard to know where stories end and reality begins.”
“Interesting you should say that, when clearly the cast doesn’t seem to know the difference, either.” She paused, thinking. “How well do you know your mate? I mean, is it years, or more recent?”
“A good ten years, at least. We played on the same football team, and we’ve all stayed in touch. He’s a normal bloke, Avery. He’s married too, with a kid. I don’t want him to be possessed by his character’s spirit, or whatever you call it.”
“It’s not possession...well, we don’t think it is.” As she spoke, she saw Dan’s face change, his expression harden.
“Avery, you know bugger all right now, so you can’t rule it out.”
“True,” she said, chastened. “Can I go this afternoon? It’s really important.”
He nodded. “Yes. But I told a little lie, just in case you didn’t hear me.”
“What little lie?”
“I said you were really interested in acting and were thinking of joining a local company, or getting acting lessons, and would he mind if you and a couple of friends came to see the rehearsal, to really get a feel for things. He said yes.”
Shock was her overriding emotion at his admission. “You said we were interested in acting?” Her voice sounded shrill.
“Yes! What did you want me to say? ‘My friends are interested in the occult and think you’ve been enchanted, and they need to come and check you out? Oh, and by the way, they’re all witches.’ Pull the other one!”
“Sorry, of course,” she said, trying to placate Dan. She’d never seen him look so cross, and she knew it was because he was worried. “You’re right. Bollocks. Wait until I tell El and Reuben.”
***
White Haven Little Theatre basked in mid-afternoon sunshine, revealing nothing of the unfortunate events of the night before.
It was an ornate structure built of red brick with an impressive entrance, and it seemed to glow in the afternoon light. It was surrounded by other Victorian-era buildings, which had all been converted to restaurants and shops with flats above them.
Avery was loitering across the road, at the start of a small lane that wound between buildings to the seafront where there was also a large car park. She could smell the water, and the faint scent of blossoms. This part of White Haven wasn’t as quaint as the centre, and the shops were more mainstream, but it was still charming, and there were the standard hanging baskets and Beltane decorations in the windows. She hadn’t been waiting long when El and Reuben arrived together, strolling up the lane from the beach.
El grinned at her. “Are we all set?”
“We are. I’m intrigued as to what we’re going to find in there,” Avery admitted.
Reuben looked bemused as he gazed across the road at the entrance. “I’m not sure I can really sell myself as the acting type, but I’ll try.”
El sniggered. “You always ham everything up. You’ll do just fine. I’ve been reading the story of Tristan and Iseult this morning, just to get familiar with the tale. It’s pretty convoluted!”
“I know,” Avery said, nodding. “According to Dan, the legend is very typical of tales of this sort. They can be unbelievable in places, but were designed to highlight loyalty, fealty, and the all-consuming power of love.”
“Do we know what role Harry is playing?” Reuben asked.
“Governal, the guy who couldn’t remember his own name last night.” Avery checked her watch. “It’s time. We’re to go to the side door where we went in last night, and I have to text him. He’ll meet us there.”
“Why can’t we go through the front?” El asked. “The café is open.”
“It’s easier, apparently, because the main doors to the auditorium are padlocked for now.”
Within minutes of Avery texting, Harry opened the side door and looked suspiciously at them. “Avery?”
This was worrying, he didn’t look particularly welcoming, but Avery smiled brightly anyway. “Yes, and you must be Harry?”
Harry was of average height with a stocky build, short, light brown hair, and a thick neck. He was also wearing a medieval costume, rich with colour and embroidery that made him look regal. He nodded, and looked up at Reuben and El, who stood behind her. “These your friends?”
“Yes, Reuben and El. We’re all aspiring actors!”
El and Reuben followed suit, greeting him enthusiastically, and Reuben gave him a hearty handshake.
“I should warn you,” Harry said as he drew back, allowing them inside, “that we’re all a bit shaken up after last night.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking distracted and anxious. “To be honest, if it wasn’t Dan asking, I’d have said no...but he’s a good mate.”
“We really appreciate it,” Avery said, at her most charming. “I know it’s bad timing, but we wanted to see a proper dress rehearsal.”
He nodded. “Sure, just be aware that things are a bit tense at the moment. Some of the actors are still dressing, but the rest of us have gathered in the auditorium. Follow me.”
Harry led them up the corridor, in the opposite direction they’d gone the previous night, past some steps that led to the side of the stage, and then pushed through a door and into the main hall. For a moment, Avery’s attention was completely on the building, and she knew El’s was, too.
The ceiling was vaulted high overhead, and the walls were painted a rich red embellished with gold. There was a dress circle that Avery had forgotten about, which extended a third of the way into the space, and there were also a few boxed seats to the left and right. At the back were a series of double doors that led to the entrance and the small café and bar, and turning around, Avery saw the stage, the curtains currently drawn back as a few people scurried around dressing the admittedly simple set.
“Wow,” she said, unable to contain her surprise. “It’s been years since I’ve been here. I’ve forgotten how impressive it is.”
Harry nodded. “I know. We’re lucky to have such a great place to perform in. It needs a bit of attention though, to be honest. The paint is peeling in a few places, and it needs more heating, but it’s still better than a school or community centre.”
El was still staring, and she said, “I’m in love! It’s fantastic.” El loved drama in her decor, so Avery wasn’t surprised by her statement, but Harry had already moved on. He led them to the group of actors who were standing by the front row, immediately below the stage.
“Hey everyone, these are the people I was telling you about, my mate’s friends. They’ve come to watch the dress rehearsal.”
An overweight man with grey hair who was dressed in everyday clothes nodded at them and said, “Sorry, you’re going to find this will be chaotic for a while, dress rehearsals always are. I’m Anthony, the director.” He nodded behind him. “Just grab a seat, and we’ll be underway soon.”
Most people turned and nodded at them in silent greeting, distracted, but quickly went back to the scripts and their own discussions. However, Avery saw Josh and Emma, and they gave them a quick smile and wave before turning their attention to Anthony.
Avery, El, and Reuben did as instructed and settled themselves a few rows back, close enough to hear Anthony talking to two actors who it seemed were replacing the two missing ones: the woman who had stabbed the man, and the victim.
“Are you sure you’re okay for tomorrow, Gail?” Anthony asked a blonde woman, wearing a plain medieval dress.
“Yes!” she insisted, her face flushed. “I’ve been he
lping Jamie learn her lines, and it’s not a big part. I’ll be fine!”
“And what about you, Tim?” he said, turning to a short man with grey hair and a red face, also in costume.
“It’s a small part, and I’ll be fine,” he said with a note of impatience. “I’ve been in this company a long time and I haven’t let you down yet!”
“That must be Brangain and Frocin,” El said in a hushed voice to Avery. “She’s Iseult’s maid, and he’s the dwarf who betrayed their affair to the King.”
Reuben leaned in close, too. “He doesn’t look like a dwarf.”
“Maybe he’ll act like one!” El answered. “He’s sometimes played as a hunchback.”
While the cast argued and dithered, Avery watched them, noting that many still carried their scripts, some of which looked old and worn. The stage beyond them was set up to look like a ship’s deck, the backdrop the ship’s rigging and the sea beyond. The company was bigger than Avery had anticipated, and from what she’d gathered from Dan, if you weren’t acting, you helped with production. A few of the experienced actors also took turns to direct.
After another ten minutes of robust discussion, and a tearful outburst from some of the cast about the previous night, most actors headed backstage, and Anthony shouted over their heads, “Lower the lights!”
Within seconds the light in the hall darkened, and the stage was lit up.
“They must be practicing the lighting, too,” Reuben murmured, looking around to see where the lighting controls were.
“They have to,” El said. “It’s part of rehearsals—and the first show is tonight! At least they don’t need to worry about that at the castle.”
The play began, but it became clear there were going to be many interruptions in the action. The prompter was positioned at the side of the stage, and as Anthony corrected where they stood, lines were forgotten, and they restarted the scene.
