Secrets, Schemes & Sewing Machines

by Katy Cannon

  “I’m sorry, Violet,” Connor interrupted, not sounding very sorry at all, “I need to get these moved before rehearsals start.”

  I heard movement and realized that Connor was standing up. And that the things he needed to move probably included the board I was hiding behind.

  “Maybe we can talk later?” Violet suggested, in what she probably thought was a flirty voice. It wasn’t. “We could go and get a coffee or something…”

  I held my breath waiting for Connor’s response and my heart clenched at the idea of him on a date with my rival.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Connor said, and my breath whooshed out. “You know, keeping things professional and all.”

  Which presumably meant “no way, you drama queen” in Connor language. And he thought I was a diva.

  “I’ll see you later,” Connor added, obviously trying to get rid of her. Now what did I do? I could hear Violet walk off but I didn’t want to move until I was sure which way she had gone, in case she spotted me. But if I didn’t get out of there soon…

  Suddenly the board in front of me shifted a metre to the right.

  Connor blinked those pale blue eyes at me. “Hello, princess.”

  “Hi.” I didn’t even object to the nickname for once. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt, but I needed to take these to the costume cupboard.” I held up my bag as proof.

  He didn’t look convinced of my innocence. “Not just fascinated by all Violet’s issues?”

  “No more than you seemed to be.”

  “Fair enough.” He pushed the board another metre or so, and I put my bag down at the side to help him.

  “So, is that what you meant by ‘the drama’?” I asked, as we shifted the board towards the stage.

  “Yeah, maybe. Although that was pretty mild, really.” He sighed. “I guess I don’t get it. We’re here to put on a play. Why does it all have to be about these invented crises?”

  “You know I haven’t actually said anything at all to Violet, right? About her playing Beatrice, I mean.” I didn’t want to buy into the drama, but it felt important that he know that.

  “I don’t think you needed to.” Connor gave me a rueful smile. “She knows you wanted the part, and that everybody expected you to get it. That’s probably enough.”

  Guilt tugged at my middle. Was I the reason Violet was struggling with the role? No. I wasn’t taking that on. It wasn’t my fault she couldn’t learn her lines. And if everyone expected me to get the part the first time round, maybe they’d support me when Violet still couldn’t do it in a couple of weeks. This was a good thing for me.

  So why did it still feel kind of bad?

  “Well, I’m too busy with the costumes to worry about what anyone else thinks,” I lied.

  “Good.” Connor looked approving. “Then you go and get on. I can handle this.”

  Leaving him to his boards, I went to retrieve my bag of accessories and costume bits.

  It was funny. Last year, I’d have been right there in the middle of any “he said, she said”, but this year I wasn’t bothered. I wasn’t sure if I was showing some sort of new maturity, or if Violet’s issues just weren’t all that remarkable.

  Definitely not as interesting as mine, anyway.

  Like Faith. I’d thought that once she got used to the idea that we were part of her life, her visits might tail off a bit. You know, so she wouldn’t need to visit as much. But Faith didn’t seem to be visiting any less. In fact, if anything, she seemed to be visiting more. She and Mum had been on a wedding shopping expedition together, looking at fabric and patterns for the bridesmaids’ dresses, as well as all sorts of other trinkets that weddings seemed to require.

  Of course the main thing the wedding required was a groom.

  To be honest, I’d started to get a bit suspicious about Faith’s fiancé. As in, whether he actually existed. I mean, surely we’d have met him by now if he did, right? But Faith said Adam had been working away overseas on some secondment to another hospital or something (because of course he was a doctor. Who else would the perfect lost daughter marry?) for the last three months.

  But now he was back. And coming to dinner tonight. Yay.

  Unpacking my bag into the relevant boxes and baskets, I took a moment to just enjoy the fabrics – the textures, the sparkle of sequins, the slip of the silk, the intricacies of lace. Even more surprising than my lack of interest in Violet’s dramas was the fact that I was honestly enjoying researching the costumes. I liked finding out what people had worn – it was a lot more interesting than most of the stuff we learned in our history classes.

  Picking out a diamante hairslide shaped like a bird, I slipped it into my hair, holding a few strands back from my face. Studying myself in the mirror, I decided it would be perfect for a family dinner.

  But first, we had to get through this rehearsal. It was starting to sink in that we only had a couple of weeks left until the Christmas break, and after that it was all downhill to the opening night. Everyone still had their scripts in hand, I was still short of a few costumes, and I’d barely started looking at the props.

  I really needed another meeting with Connor.

  Stashing the last of my stuff in the costume cupboard, I headed back to the stage to see if he was done shifting temporary scenery.

  “Look, can we meet now? I want to go through some stuff with you.”

  “Sure thing, princess,” Connor said, and this time I scowled at him. I didn’t want him thinking I was starting to like the name or anything.

  He glanced up across the hall as the doors opened and Mr Hughes walked in. “But it might have to wait until the break.”

  He was right. Mr Hughes called out immediately for me to help run through lines with some of the cast. I’d thought that just doing the costumes meant I’d be sitting around until we had, you know, actual costumes, but Mr Hughes had clearly decided to take advantage of my willingness to help. At any given rehearsal I could be shifting scenery, running through lines, playing prompt, covering for missing actors, standing on stage to help get the lights positioned right … anything.

  In some ways, being backstage was proving more exciting that being on it. And now I had Izzy and a few others from Sewing Club there, too, starting to measure and fit our actors for their costumes, it was busier than ever. I worked as much as I could on the costumes but, I had to admit, Izzy was much better at it than me.

  “The break, then,” I said, and Connor nodded.

  “No break today!” Mr Hughes jogged up the stairs at the side of the stage and carried on straight past us. “No time!”

  Connor sighed and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. I had to admit, with his hair going in all directions, he really was kind of cute.

  I looked away. I’d spent weeks carefully not noticing that Connor O’Neil was, objectively speaking, kind of good-looking. But suddenly, it seemed to be all I could see.

  “Aren’t you supposed to have minions to do the heavy lifting?” I asked. No break meant non-stop work for Connor, I realized. At least the cast got a rest when they weren’t on stage.

  “Apparently not. Most of the tech crew won’t show up for rehearsals now until next term. They say there’s nothing more they can do until we get the blocking finalized.”

  “What about the guys doing the scenery?” I perched on the edge of a stack of chairs.

  “They’re working on it in the art department.”

  “So it’s just you.”

  “It’s just me. And you, for some reason.”

  I gave him a bright smile. “I like to be helpful.”

  “Sure you do, princess.” The sarcasm in his voice lingered from the early days, but there was less bite to it now. Maybe he was starting to see me differently at last, too.

  “Why else would I be here?” I tilted my head to look at him, honestly wanting to hear his answer.

  “I’m not sure,” Connor said, but he was smiling a little. “Maybe just sent to
try me?”

  I laughed and wondered if this actually counted as flirting. Was that what we were doing now? “No… I’m cooking up all sorts of schemes back here in the wardrobe department.” Only half a joke, but I wasn’t about to admit that.

  “I knew it.” He was grinning now, and I couldn’t look away from his pale blue eyes. They locked on to mine and suddenly I forgot all about Violet and her dramas, or whatever it was Mr Hughes had asked me to do.

  “Actually, while I have you both…” Mr Hughes’s head popped back around to our little backstage area, and Connor stepped back. I let out a breath. “I meant to ask how the costume and prop meetings are going. Have you managed to get together yet this week? I know Grace has been very busy with Miss Cotterill.”

  Did he? How? God, was the whole staff room gossiping about me?

  Connor answered for both of us, while I boggled at the idea of teachers discussing my mythical sewing skills.

  “Not this week, no,” he said, neatly avoiding having to admit that we were a couple of weeks behind.

  Mr Hughes gave Connor a look I didn’t quite understand. “Well, in that case, maybe Grace should join us for dinner after the rehearsal. You can catch up on everything. If that’s all right by you, Grace?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I couldn’t, maybe even explain that my sister was bringing her fiancé over to meet the family that night. But I didn’t want these people to know about Faith, didn’t want her to be part of this area of my life. Besides, I told myself, Mum and Dad would probably much prefer the chance to get to know Adam on their own, without me getting in the way. And a night off from the tension at home sounded like bliss.

  Still, I knew I should be there. And I was absolutely going to tell Mr Hughes no. Right up until I saw Connor’s face.

  He was staring at the ceiling, like he was praying to heaven that I’d say no. But when I looked closer, I realized that wasn’t quite it. He looked … uncertain? Like he didn’t know whether he wanted me there or not.

  “Connor?” I asked. “What do you think?”

  He looked down at me and I stared back. If he really didn’t want me there, he was going to have to tell me – and his stepdad – why.

  “We do need to meet,” he said, like he was the one who’d been nagging about it. “So … you should come.”

  “OK, then. In that case, I’d love to,” I told Mr Hughes with a smile. Faith and Adam could have quality time with Mum and Dad, and I’d get to meet Adam some other time. It would be fine.

  “Great! That’s all settled then. I’ll let you both get back to work.” He disappeared on to the stage, and I heard him call together the cast for Act One.

  Connor headed off backstage again without another glance in my direction. I pulled my phone from its new case and texted Mum to let her know the change of plan. Then, before she could possibly read it and respond, I switched off my phone. I could always claim I ran out of battery later, or something.

  What you need:

  2 rectangles of thick fabric, 45 x 35cm

  2 strips of cotton webbing in a complementary colour, 60cm long

  What to do:

  1. Using a sewing machine, stitch a zigzag stitch around all the edges of your fabric. If you’re sewing by hand, use pinking shears to stop the fabric fraying.

  2. Hem the tops of both your rectangles.

  3. Pin your webbing in place on the wrong side of your fabric, against the hem, to make handles, with 2.5cm of webbing overlapping the fabric.

  4. Stitch the handles in place by sewing a rectangle over each end of the webbing and fabric, then stitching a cross in the middle of that rectangle.

  5. Pin your two fabric rectangles together, right sides facing, and stitch around the three unhemmed sides.

  6. Turn your bag the right way out and fill with books!

  Rehearsal ran late and it was pitch black and freezing cold by the time we reached Mr Hughes’s front door.

  The door opened, and light and warmth flooded out into the winter night. Mr Hughes paused, then turned to me with a finger on his lips. I frowned.

  I glanced back at Connor, who just raised his eyebrows at me. Trying to tiptoe quietly, I followed Mr Hughes into the hallway, just as a woman with short, fair hair and tired eyes came down the stairs. She only trod on the outer parts of the steps, I noticed, like she was trying to avoid creaking floorboards.

  There was definitely something I was missing here.

  “Is she asleep?” Mr Hughes whispered, and the woman nodded. “Fantastic.”

  Together, we all crept through to the kitchen. Mr Hughes shut the door, while his wife switched on a baby monitor, and suddenly everything made sense.

  “Sorry about that,” Mrs Hughes said, talking at a normal volume. She had a nice smile, I thought. “Lily is just impossible if she doesn’t have quiet to get to sleep. Once she’s down, she’ll sleep through practically anything, though. It’s just the first half hour that’s a nightmare!”

  “I didn’t know you had a new baby,” I said, smiling at Mr Hughes. “That’s brilliant. Congratulations!” Even though Mrs Hughes had said that Lily slept through most things, I kept my voice a little lower than usual. I had already gatecrashed dinner; the last thing I wanted was to wake the baby.

  “She’s nearly six months,” Mr Hughes said, with a proud new-father grin. “Connor didn’t tell you?”

  We all looked at Connor, who just shrugged. “It didn’t come up.”

  “Oh, honestly.” Mrs Hughes wrapped an arm around her son’s shoulders. “Boys are hopeless, aren’t they? He didn’t even tell me he was bringing home a new girlfriend for dinner…”

  Connor’s face was a picture. Mr Hughes winced. “Ah, actually, sorry, that’s my fault. Lizzie, this is Grace. She’s organizing the costumes and props for the play, and she and Connor needed time to discuss the arrangements, so I suggested they do it here. Is that OK?”

  Mrs Hughes shrugged. “Hey, it’s your turn to cook. If you want to feed one more, that’s entirely up to you.” She grinned at me. “I’m just pleased that Connor is making friends at his new school. Although I suppose a new girlfriend was a bit much to hope for.” She gave her son a sad look, and I wondered what else I was missing here. New girlfriend implied an old girlfriend. What had happened to her?

  I had so many questions about Connor. And I was in just the right place to get them answered.

  Mr Hughes pulled on an apron from the back of the kitchen door. “Chilli OK, Grace?

  “Sounds fantastic.” Lunch was a long time ago, and I was starving. I turned to Connor. “Do you want to talk about the costumes now or after dinner?”

  “Oh, do it after,” Mrs Hughes said. “Dinner won’t be long, and one of us will run you home later, Grace. You have told your parents where you are, though? I know you kids are nearly seventeen, but we do worry, you know. I’m just so pleased to have both my babies under one roof at last.” She squeezed Connor’s arm as she said that, and he pulled away.

  “I’ve texted Mum and told her,” I promised. And it was the complete truth. I just hadn’t waited for her to object to it, that was all.

  Dinner was delicious and afterwards, with the table clear and wiped down, Mr Hughes asked, “Do you two want to work here or in the lounge?”

  “Here’s fine,” I said. “I have a lot of papers to spread out.”

  “Plus easier access to coffee,” Mrs Hughes said. “Connor always needs coffee when he’s working on a show. I have to switch the whole house to decaf to make sure he ever sleeps.”

  She kissed him on the head and walked over to the baby monitor. She was about to unplug it when Connor said, “Leave that in here, Mum. I’ll go up if she needs anything.”

  Mrs Hughes beamed. “Are you sure?”

  Connor raised his eyebrows again. It seemed to be his default means of communication. “Sure. Go on, your programme is about to start.”

  “Lizzie and I are utterly addicted to this new police drama,” Mr
Hughes explained. “Come on, love. Let’s leave these two to it.”

  They shut the door behind them and, suddenly, it was just me and Connor, staring at each other across the kitchen table.

  Connor broke eye contact first and headed over to the sink to fill the kettle. Then, while it was boiling, he turned to me and said, “Well, come on, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  I pulled my files of notes, along with Miss Cotterill’s homework reading, from the book bag I’d made at home, using a cute Russian doll fabric I’d found, practising on Mum’s sewing machine while she was still at work. “OK, well, going through the costume cupboard I’ve found quite a few things we can use as they are. Izzy and Miss Cotterill have agreed to help me alter and embellish a few other items to make them suit.” I pushed the costume list across the table towards him and let him have a read before I carried on. “As you can see, the areas we’re really struggling with are military uniforms for the guys, and wedding dresses for the last scene. I’ve been sourcing a few patterns for aprons for the maids and so on, in case we end up making the simpler costumes ourselves.”

  Connor’s gaze flicked up to meet mine. “And you think you’re good enough at sewing to do that?”

  “No,” I answered honestly. “Not yet. I’m still at bags and scarves level.” I held up my bag as evidence. “But Izzy is. And I think with the right help we can do it. We don’t have time to make costumes for the whole cast, so I think we need to focus on the items that will make the biggest impact. If they’re really special, we might be able to get away with using what we’ve already got for the smaller parts.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got it all under control.” Connor dropped the list back on to the table. “So what do you need my help for?”

  Standing, I followed him back across the kitchen as the kettle finished boiling. “I need you to help me check I haven’t missed anything. And I’m worried about the military uniforms. And the props. And, well, most of it actually. And I’d love a coffee, thanks,” I added, as he took only one mug down from the shelf.