‘Moving on, there are only a couple of changes,’ she said clearing her dry throat. ‘Steve, I would like you to read Macbeth.’
A ripple of surprise flowed between them. Steve had played cameo roles in two previous productions, but her choice caught them unawares. Steve looked stunned. He opened his mouth to say something and then promptly closed it as he glanced over to Diana with a look of unexpected pleasure. Diana gave her husband a return look of sheer pride.
‘Well done,’ she mouthed and grinned at the dawning consternation on his face.
The others agreed with Alicia. As long as the actors could handle it they welcomed new blood taking the principle rôles.
Quickly, Alicia read through her notes. ‘I know Tilly isn’t here, but she already knows I want her to play Lady Macbeth. She will let me know for certain in a day or so.’ Nobody was surprised at this announcement; Tilly played a formidable leading lady.
Alicia carried on, dishing out the other characters. There were a few good-natured moans and groans but most were happy with her casting.
Sitting next to Alicia was Diana. Alicia meant to cast her as one of the three witches, a perfect character role. She hoped she would accept the part.
Pausing, Alicia noted Karl still looked grim and sulky as he threw a furious, black look across to Steve and then back to Alicia. Pouting, and with a voluble and melodramatic sigh, he opened his as yet unlooked at script and turned the pages until he found his opening scene.
There was a bellow of rage from Leslie. ‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’ he demanded.
With a gasp everyone turned to look at him, shock registering on their faces at his rude outburst.
‘Well?’ he asked.
Chapter 2. The same evening
Speak if you can. What are you?
Macbeth. Act 1 Scene 3
Diana noticed Leslie gingerly holding his script away from him as if he did not want to touch it.
Everyone fell silent. He stood up and strode over to where Alicia was sitting at one of the taverna tables. She was writing some notes before Leslie made his rude and noisy interruption. Leslie towered over her, glaring down.
Despite his age he was a man to be reckoned with. He possessed classic good looks with fine bone structure despite a slight fleshing in the face. Leslie was of medium height with a trim, muscular body, and still carried a full head of steel-grey hair. With pale, icy blue eyes to match he looked Teutonic. With a great flourish he tossed his script down in front of her. It fell open at the page he had been glancing at.
‘You have a very peculiar sense of humour I must say. This is the final straw. I don’t know if I can be bothered, this whole thing is going to be a sham. Honestly, Alicia. I thought you had better judgment but your decision is just too pathetic for words. Typical of a woman! I think you’ve finally lost it. Anyway you’ll be very sorry, you wait and see.’
From where she sat Diana took a sneaky peek at Leslie’s script. With some bewilderment she thought that the opened pages were blackened out. Blinking, and focusing properly, Diana realised that in fact they were not black but red. Blood red. The pages appeared to be seeped in what looked like shining wet blood. ‘What on earth?’ she said to herself. ‘Was she seeing things or was this some macabre joke?
Seconds later, the sun disappeared behind a lone cloud in the sky. A sudden breeze rippled through the trees behind them, and a small flight of bats veered and swooped with disturbed, shrill squeaks upon the party gathered on the terrace.
Away upon the hill, the church bell rang out its miserable dull tone. The sound echoed around the empty forlorn buildings, peculiar, as there was no service this evening, and therefore no reason for its sombre tolling. As if in sympathy to this incongruity, the breeze turned into an unseasonable chill wind that swirled along the paths and around the corners.
Startled, Diana jumped up and looked round her. The branches of the trees silhouetted against the hillside swayed and rustled, a whisper running through the canopy. A shiver tingled down her spine. She could have sworn she had heard something up there. It was something like a shrill cry then a low chant. But staring into the gloom, the space between the trees remained as empty as when they had all first arrived. Feeling silly, she returned to her seat.
You’re seeing things and hearing things, pages covered with blood and spooky sounds, she thought. Next time it’ll be goblins. For goodness sake get a grip on yourself and stop letting your imagination run away with you.
It was strange though, this was not the first time she had felt something here. Almost like a presence. She felt a little giddy as a small wave of nausea washed over her. Her palms broke out in sweat and her heart thudded in her chest.
Perhaps Steve was right and she had been doing too much lately. He’d been nagging at her to take it easier.
‘Your health is beginning to worry me. Can’t you slow down and take it easier, Diana darling?’ he’d said more than once.
Diane sighed. He really was such a softie. But she was glad he cared and wouldn’t have changed him for anything. But how could she take it easier?
After her conversation the other evening with Ann, she’d already decided a change of genre would be exciting for her next novel. Up until now her subject was historical fiction.
During the cast party while she and Ann stood off to one side chatting, Diana had watched and studied the various members gathered. ‘You know it’s time I wrote another book,’ she said dreamily gesturing with her hand. ‘Something compels me to. Look at this scene before us.’
Puzzled, Ann turned and looked at her, not understanding her gesture. She frowned and tilted her head to one side. ‘Sorry? You’ve lost me.’
‘All these people gathered here, and the setting so romantic, or even dramatic. I know it’s been done before, but surely the whole scene lends itself to something. Look, all around us are people, all different in age, nationality and class. Yes, there’s still a class structure despite what they say. These people are brought together for the production of the play. Here, we act together; we almost live in the same village. For the duration we cannot get away from each other until it’s all over. Then, we part, and go back to our other lives. The outsiders, perhaps we’ll never see again. The play kept us all as one.’
‘Well, apart from the play what else could bring us together then?’ asked Ann.
‘Apart from another play, you mean? I don’t know, a calamity possibly, or a strange or bizarre happening perhaps. I’d have to think about it,’ she broke off musing it over to herself.
Ann gave her a knowing smile, ‘Well, you’re the one with the writer’s imagination.’
Diana grinned back. ‘Something will come to me eventually, even if I have to write something completely different.’
Ann looked interested. ‘Really? What about a murder or a mystery?’
‘Ye-es there could be something there. A group already together, suspects in the making. There are enough weird and flamboyant characters to choose from to be the victim or the perpetrator.’
‘He would have to be evil.’
‘He?’ Diana queried her with a smile.
‘Well, it could of course be a she, as long as they’re horribly evil. The murderer I mean,’ she was warming to the theme. ‘Like in the Scottish play, you know, ‘Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen.’
Diana laughed. ‘Of course, I’ll give it some thought. My agent is breathing down my neck for me to write another novel. I’ve had my time off apparently,’ she grinned ruefully at Ann. ‘I do want to get back into it. But you’re right; it would need an evil person to portray as my murderer. Somebody the readers would love to hate.’
Ann looked back steadily at her for a moment before she replied. ‘Well there’s enough material around to give you some good grounding, and you’ve already noticed a few of the people from here are very weird. I bet Leslie’s right. They all have some dark secret or other to hide. I can even tell you a few stories I’ve heard
myself. Not now, there isn’t time. We’ll do it over coffee one morning…’
~~~
…Diana shook her head. How on earth could she have drifted off thinking about the other night? She felt really strange and fuzzy. It took a strong will to turn her attention back to the present and Leslie.
Amazed, she found he’d already turned on his heel and was stalking away from the startled group. There was a stunned silence as they all sat open-mouthed at his rude departure, not believing what they had just heard. Embarrassed, they looked at the stricken face of Alicia. Her freckles stood out like a hectic rash upon her face and throat. Blinking and flushed; an ugly red stain crept up her neck and across her cheeks.
Diana felt sorry for Alicia as she obviously struggled to keep her composure.
Alicia looked up from the script that Leslie had just thrust at her, confusion clouding her features.
She took a gulp. ‘I don’t understand. I only wanted to try something new. Leslie was well aware I was going to make this production contemporary. I don’t see what’s wrong in setting the play in the present and making the cast into modern armies. Guns and army fatigues would make a fine change from medieval costume’. She paused, then continued shakily. ‘I’m sure he’ll see reason once he calms down.’
‘He was bloody rude and arrogant to boot,’ stormed a nearby member shaking his head in anger. ‘I think you did very well not to have had a stand up row. If it had been me, I’d have bloody well thumped him. ’
‘Well, that’s not my thing, Bernard. Anyway, I’m only relieved he threw a wobbly now and not at some later crucial stage. At least we have plenty of time to plan around him if necessary. It is important that everyone takes part in this production. We want to put our theatre group of Agios Mamas firmly and right with the rest of the Cyprus theatre scene. We have this splendid opportunity with our own open-air amphitheatre so let’s take it. I’m not going to be put off by a minor irritation like Leslie.’
She paused, and then in a firmer but soft voice spoke to herself. Only Diana, who was nearest to her, heard the venom in her words. ‘No. This time he’s not going to be allowed to upset any of my plans.’…………….
Click to buy “The Assassin’s Village” from Amazon
Excerpt from “Children of the Plantation” by Faith Mortimer
“Children of the Plantation” by Faith Mortimer.
Prologue
Opening the kitchen door, she spotted a vixen standing near the refuse bin. Hermione clapped her hands, and it shot through the hedge at the bottom of the garden.
Hermione's heart was thudding in her breast as she considered what next to do. Casting a look around, she gave thanks that the clouds scudding overhead made it a dark night. This had to be done in complete privacy.
Giving herself a mental shake, she crossed the damp grass to the shed and picked up a spade. A clod of earth still clung to the sharp blade from where she had been digging in her vegetable patch earlier that afternoon. It seemed such a long time ago now. She paused, still not completely certain she was doing the right thing. Making up her mind, she walked over to the newly turned earth.
The air smelt fresh after the rain shower, and a light breeze blew the mixed garden scents her way while she dug. The hole was to be small but deep, especially as she had just driven the fox off. Satisfied, she stood back and peered down into the soft loamy material, a sorry place for such a pathetic bundle.
Sick at heart, but knowing they had no choice, Hermione laid down her spade and walked back into the kitchen. She picked up the tightly wrapped package and carried it outside; it weighed no more than a couple of pounds as she gently laid it down into the hole.
Covering it with fresh earth, she scattered pebbles around and knelt on the grass. Had there been any other choice? Whatever were they going to tell him when the time came?
Chapter 1
October 2011
High above Kuala Lumpur's international airport, the Emirates airbus began to make its controlled descent.
From her window seat, Diana had a marvellous view of the capital of Malaysia. She had supposed they would be looking down upon a sea of luxuriant vegetation, jungle and scrub, but the serried rank and file below suggested organised plantations rather than virgin wilderness.
"Well, Mrs Rivers. What can you see?" Steve asked, leaning towards her from the adjacent seat. "Can you see the tall towers of KL yet?"
"Mmm. We're circling now. It's a much bigger city than I remember and more modern. When I was last here, there was only a handful of skyscrapers. I suppose this is progress." She sounded disappointed.
Steve gave a chuckle. "You're getting older. You have to remember nothing stays the same for ever. Practically every country in the world wants to improve itself and if that means modernising its towns and cities, it will. The west has used more of the world's resources than the rest of the world put together; you know that."
"I do, but it doesn't necessarily mean it's better or that I have to like it. I wanted Malaya to be how I remembered it when I was young."
"Stop grumbling. Your trouble is you're tired from a long flight. How do you feel, darling?"
Diana smiled at her husband. "Sorry, you're right of course. I am tired and I feel et-see ket-see (so-so) as we say at home. My ankles have swollen. I have never had that happen before! I'll be glad when we're finally on the ground."
"Not long now. Look! We're lining up with the runway. This is fun watching our landing on the screen." Steve indicated the overhead monitor showing a frontal camera view. The runway stretched directly ahead. "We'll soon be in the hotel and you can put your feet up. You mustn't overdo it, despite the doctor saying you're fine."
Diana nodded and smiled, thinking back to her last antenatal visit. Thankfully, as everything was in order, her doctor and midwife had agreed she was fit enough to fly long-distance to the Far East for an exotic holiday. As she was healthy and so long as she followed their instructions, she should have no worries. This baby was their first, so both parents were excited and looking forward to completing their family.
The trip to Malaysia was a new experience for Steve, Diana having lived here during part of her childhood. She carried treasured memories of those years and planned to rediscover some of her old haunts, if possible. Looking at the vast and so far unrecognisable city below, she realised that it might prove difficult.
"I can't wait to see the hotel. The brochure description sounds wonderful. 'An old colonial ex-family home, set on a hill surrounded by a plantation of rubber trees, fruit and natural vegetation' she had read to Steve earlier that week. "I wonder if the countryside is much as I remember."
"I expect there'll be lots of changes, so don't get too excited. Look at the UK now. The rural areas are mostly small pockets dotted between the sprawl of towns and farmland. There's not a lot of true wilderness left anywhere."
Diana knew he was right. Progress again, she decided. Malaysia was supposed to have some proper nature reserves, and she hoped they hadn't cut all of the indigenous trees down and sold the wood to Japan.
~~~~~
The airport was about thirty miles from the city, and Diana and Steve's hotel was further up country. Collecting their luggage from the carousel, they were soon on their way along a fine modern road towards their destination. The road was new tarmacadam and not one of the red-dust tracks Di remembered so well from when she was twelve. One remarkable advance she observed was the fierce air conditioning in the taxi-cab. With the outside temperature and humidity high in the nineties, she soon forgot her misgivings about modern progress.
Forty minutes later, they were bumping along a smaller road, an avenue of trees shading them from the glaring sun. Further from the highway, more and more of the vegetation became wild; Nipa and Nibong palms, epiphytes such as orchids and ferns, bamboos, bananas, and creepers with brilliant flowers of every hue were draped over fences and clambered up the trees, all jostling for space.
"This is more like it," D
i said, looking eagerly about. "Much more the Malaysia I knew."
She fell silent as the car pulled off the road through a pair of stately gates hanging from huge square pillars and swept up the driveway. Ahead, she could see an imposing building. Painted white, it was two stories high with a wide, shady veranda which seemed to run completely around the perimeter. The gardens were a riot of colour, numerous varieties of plants competing in the well-tended flower beds. Di caught a glimpse of a small flock of jewel-coloured birds as they flew from what she remembered as a Rambutan fruit tree. Further across the lawns was the welcome glint of blue water coming from a swimming pool.
The whole effect was stunning. Di and Steve looked at each other with delight. This was going to be a perfect place for a relaxing holiday.
~~~~~
Each guest room was a suite comprising a large bedroom complete with a huge en-suite bathroom and a connecting door leading to a comfortable sitting-room. From here, a deep balcony ran along the outer walls of both bedroom and sitting-room. The whole suite was light and airy, the furniture covered in a restful green material with matching drapes and bed cover. Air conditioning and overhead ceiling fans completed the luxury.
Steve soon spied the minibar and declared himself satisfied with the contents. "Everything we need, darling. Plenty of orange juice for you too. Would you like a drink now?"
Di was gazing out of the window at a large flock of brightly-coloured birds. Some with tail-feathers which were remarkably long, while others were dazzling in other ways: pigeons with emerald-coloured wings and others a riot of scarlet. "What I'd really like is a good cup of Malayan-grown tea."
"Good idea. Would you like room service or shall we go down to the lounge?"
"Let's go down. If I stay here, I'll fall asleep on this cosy-looking bed, and I really want to get used to this time zone as soon as possible."
The Bamboo Mirror Page 9
