‘That’s understandable.’ She stepped back so Joan could reach the faucet.
Joan filled the cooking pot. ‘Just keep me off the topic of politics, especially when the Bishop and Pill Face are around. If they’d heard me just now they’d have me out of here quicker than I could pack, for spreading anti-American propaganda.’
‘It’s only natural you feel that way given what’s happened to your cousin.’
‘The Bishop doesn’t think so. He believes young men should consider it an honour to lay down their lives for their country. But words are cheap, especially if you have no children of your own and you’re too old to fight, like him. But it’s supper time and we have boiled chicken and potatoes to look forward to. It’ll be disgusting, but when we tried frying the chicken it didn’t cook properly and half the kids were sick.’
‘You could boil the chicken to make sure it cooks properly, then fry it to crisp it.’
‘Fantastic. You know about cooking, you can take over.’ Joan handed her the pot.
Exhausted from travelling, cooking chicken and potatoes for seven people, meeting more Pioneers and counsellors than she would remember and trying to find her way around the camp in total darkness with the aid of a hurricane lamp, the evening seemed interminable.
After cooking, eating and clearing away, simple tasks that seemed to take for ever, there was only an hour left before ‘lights out’. The Bishop insisted they spend it together sitting around a campfire. Boys one side, girls the other, as ordered by Pill Face, singing universal songs, most of them wartime favourites like ‘It’s a Long Way to Tipperary’, ‘Keep the Home Fires Burning’, and ending the evening with ‘Auld Lang Syne’.
While they sang, men dressed in what appeared to be spacesuits sprayed clouds of insecticide in a wide circle around the border of the campsite.
‘Is that DDT?’ she whispered to Joan who was alongside her.
‘Insecticide of some kind or other. We’ve all been bitten. The theory is the bugs inside the circle die and new ones won’t fly or crawl in over the area that’s been sprayed.’
‘Why are the operatives wearing protective clothing and we’re not?’
There was a lull in the singing and her voice carried.
‘Now you know what it feels like to be an American, Penny,’ Sandy quipped. ‘We all have too many particles of insecticide in us to be fit for human consumption.’
‘And that’s enough from you, Alexander,’ the Bishop ordered. ‘Last song, ‘God Bless America’, then bed.’
She entered her tent at ten o’clock, fell on her sleeping bag and didn’t open her eyes until daylight streamed in through the tent flap she’d been too tired to secure. Her arms and face were burning and felt oddly swollen. She lifted her hand. It was covered in raised red welts. Grabbing her robe and toilet bag she crawled out of the tent to see one of Sandy and Bobby’s fellow male counsellors standing in front of the assembled Pioneers who were following his lead in performing jumping jacks.
She headed to the nearest latrine. There was a queue outside the only shower. Joan saw her looking at it and gave her a plastic bowl.
‘Best time to grab a shower is when everyone’s eating. Or disgustingly early in the morning.’ She stepped closer. ‘You looked in the mirror this morning?’
‘No, and I wouldn’t be able to see much of myself if I did. I’ve only a powder compact. I know I’m covered in bites because I’m fighting the urge to claw my skin.’
‘Don’t. They’re mosquito. If you scratch them they could get infected.’
‘I know, but I’ve never been so tempted to do something so stupid.’
‘That reaction is way beyond normal. You’re obviously allergic. I’ve some stuff you can rub on – you’re welcome to try it but it’s not that effective. Nothing is, except DDT. The only consolation is, the bugs generally only bite at dusk and night.’
‘I should never have abandoned my dream of living in New York and visiting the museums and galleries.’
‘Bobby can be very persuasive.’
‘Penelope?’ Pill Face stalked up to them. ‘From eight-thirty to ten-thirty you’ll take a two-hour art class. You’ll find all the equipment, paints, brushes and paper you’ll need in the storeroom. Joan, show her where that is. The last hour before lunch you’ll teach the non-swimmers, while the others have a free swim. Molly’s leaving to begin her day off after breakfast, so you’ll supervise her cook group at lunch and supper. This afternoon we’re going to Stratford to see Shakespeare’s Androcles and the Lion. You will assume responsibility for Molly’s group as well as assist with the Pioneers as a whole. In the meantime I’ll sort out your schedule for the week and leave it in your tent.’
Her head was reeling but she managed a ‘yes, ma’am’.
‘Get a move on, both of you. Breakfast is scheduled to begin in five minutes.’
She waited until Pill Face was out of earshot before turning to Joan. ‘Is breathing time scheduled as well?’
‘You’ll soon learn that all counsellors are expected to do all the breathing necessary for survival on their one day off a week.’
Pill Face was waiting for her when she emerged from her tent after lunch. Forewarned by Joan and Doreen about Pill Face’s strict dress code – ‘no shorts or trousers of any kind to be worn by students or counsellors on outings’ – she’d donned her green Quant suit. It was grubby but as all the Pioneers were travelling to Stratford in trucks she decided Bobby was right. It would be grubbier by the end of the day.
‘Your skirt is ridiculously, in fact obscenely short, Penelope. Change it at once.’
‘All my skirts are the same length, Mrs Howard.’
‘Then wear a coat.’
Penny didn’t argue about the heat. She returned to her tent and pulled down the elasticised waist, gaining a couple of inches of extra skirt length by turning it into a hipster.
‘Over here.’ Bobby waved to her as she jumped down from her tent platform. ‘One female, one male counsellor to a truck.’
‘Pill Face has allowed us to fraternise?’ she joined him.
‘The kids persuaded the Bishop,’ he whispered. ‘I’m driving, so get in the cab. The kids can bang the back window if they need us.’
‘So how you coping apart from the mosquitoes using you as a larder?’ Bobby asked when they were closed into the relative privacy of the cab.
‘The mosquitoes are definitely the worst. I’m considering moving into the lake.’
‘You’d have to keep your head above water.’
‘Damn, and there’s me thinking I’d found a solution.’
‘Apart from the mosquitoes?’ he reminded.
‘You didn’t warn me that every second of every minute of every day would be regimented.’ She opened the duffel bag she’d packed in her suitcase and filled with valuables and day-to-day things like her purse, passport, comb and make-up. ‘Mrs Howard left my schedule on my sleeping bag this morning when I was teaching the kids to make leaf patterns.’
‘All the counsellors have learnt to do things slowly. Very slowly,’ he emphasized. ‘We walk at half pace, take half an hour to get the things we need from the storehouse, and extend mealtimes by at least an hour.’
‘Pace is one thing, being surrounded by Pioneers every second another. I’ve always liked a certain amount of alone time.’
‘Not too alone, I hope. Tonight, for instance. Half an hour after lights out, slip from the faucet and latrine to the copse of trees behind the canoes. You can’t be seen if you hunker down low. Sandy proved that with Molly last week.’
‘In the open air, so I can get bitten even more than I am now? No thank you.’
‘Then I’ll sneak into your tent.’
‘Wouldn’t that be risky, given that the Reverend and Mrs Howard’s accommodation has an overview of the entire camp?’
‘They go to sleep early. We’re here. Be sure to sit next to me.’ Bobby parked and turned off the engine.
‘We’re he
re to watch the play?’ she reminded.
‘You, maybe. I intend to plot and come up with ideas for more free time – for both of us.’
‘Can’t we just mooch around Stratford, Bobby?’
‘No,’ Bobby replied sharply to George, the most vociferous and rebellious of the kids in their group.
‘It’s hot. None of us want to be here,’ Cecile, George’s ‘girlfriend’ of one week, moaned.
‘Then where do you want to be?’ She knew it was a mistake to have asked when she saw Bobby frown.
‘By the lake. It’s perfect swimming and sunbathing weather. Theatres are for winter and rainy days.’
‘The doors are open. Everyone inside,’ Mrs Howard shouted. ‘We’ve block-booked the first two rows in the stalls. Pass out the programmes to everyone, Penelope. Make sure the Pioneers keep them. The parents will want to see them and have a full account of the cultural activities of the Pioneers on parents’ day next month.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Please!’ she shouted above the din of complaining teenagers. ‘Take one as you enter the theatre. One at a time,’ she reprimanded George when he tried to push past the others.
A man tapped her shoulder. ‘Your accent. You’re English?’
‘Yes.’ She fought the temptation to say ‘isn’t it bloody obvious?’
‘How would you like a job in this theatre?’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘Pen, the play’s starting in two minutes, we have to go in.’ Bobby took the remaining programmes from her and handed them to George. ‘Pass these out.’
George rolled his eyes for the benefit of his fellow Pioneers. ‘Wow, the responsibility, man. I can’t take it.’
‘Shut it, George.’ Bobby saw the Bishop looking at him and lowered his voice. ‘Just get on with it,’ he ordered.
The distinguished-looking man looked from her to Bobby. ‘I can see you’re busy. I’m Harry Fowler, the manager of this theatre. I’ll find you in the intermission, Miss …?’
‘John, Penny John.’
‘I’ll see you then.’
‘Yes, thank you.’ She had no idea what she was thanking him for. She ushered the remaining Pioneers into the auditorium and followed them in.
‘What did that sleazebag want?’ Bobby sat next to her at the end of the front row in the stalls.
‘He offered me a job.’
‘Doing what?’
‘He didn’t say.’
‘I bet he didn’t. I saw the way he was looking at you.’
She laughed. ‘He’s old enough to be my father.’
‘He is, but that wouldn’t stop him. If you were an ice cream you’d be licked to death by now.’
‘Ssh!’ Pill Face glared at them from the other end of the row.
‘Time to imbibe culture, folks,’ Sandy said loudly from the row behind them where he was sitting between Joan and Doreen.
The lights dimmed, the curtain rose. Bobby grabbed her hand, lifted it on his lap and hid it beneath the sweater he’d carried in.
It was good to know he was jealous. Even if it was of a man three times his age.
‘You’d be a general dogsbody. Work in the box office, run errands, prompt at rehearsals; go on stage as an extra. Can you act?’
Forgetting Bobby’s advice at the orientation to lie when faced with a question about ability she said, ‘My only acting experience has been in amateur productions at school and college.’
‘No matter, we’ll soon find out whether or not you have any ability. As an extra all that would be required of you is to stand onstage and look decorative, and from where I’m standing I can see you’re well qualified to do that. Your accent would be an asset in the box office and onstage if you work your way up to speaking roles.’ Harry checked his watch. ‘The curtain’s due to rise. Can we continue this discussion after the performance?’
‘We have to get back to Resonance straight after the show.’ Bobby hadn’t left her side.
‘We’re camp counsellors,’ she explained.
‘You’ve signed a contract with Resonance?’
‘I haven’t signed anything.’
‘Only because you started work there less than twenty-four hours ago,’ Bobby intervened.
Harry ignored Bobby. ‘That’s excellent, Penny. No contract, no rights due to either party. You can leave right away without giving Resonance notice. I suggest you return to the camp after the show with your colleagues, pack up your things and I’ll pick you up in an hour. That will give me enough time to get back here for the evening performance. I’ll show you around the theatre and you can meet the repertory cast and backstage workers.’
‘I don’t know the first thing about the job—’ she began.
He interrupted her. ‘The wages are a hundred and fifty dollars a week. Ten per cent of all profits to be shared out among cast and backstage workers at the end of the season. We close on the thirty-first of September.’
‘Have the cast and backstage workers ever seen a share of profits?’ Bobby demanded.
‘I only took over the management of this theatre last year. It was run-down. But I’m expecting to turn a profit this year,’ Harry replied confidently. ‘What do you say to my offer, Penny? I promise you the experience of working in this theatre will be more interesting than counselling in Resonance.’
‘At Resonance I live in. If I took this job I’d have to find somewhere to live—’
He interrupted her. ‘The actors are all staying in a boarding house, a five-minute walk away. Seventy-five dollars a week including breakfast and evening meal after the last show. At midday we eat cold cuts here, provided by the house.’
‘Penny, Bobby …’
Bobby waved to the Reverend Howard. ‘We’re on our way.’
‘I’ll pick you up in an hour’s time,’ Harry pressed her.
‘I need to think about it.’
Harry reached for his wallet and removed a business card. ‘Call me first thing tomorrow morning. I can pick you up at an hour’s notice outside of performance time.’
‘Penny! Bobby! The Pioneers!’ Reverend Howard shouted impatiently.
‘We have to go.’ Bobby slipped his arm around her.
‘Don’t forget to call me,’ Harry shouted after her.
‘I won’t, and thank you for the offer.’
‘What offer?’ Reverend Howard asked her suspiciously as they exited the foyer.
‘It would appear the theatre manager believes Penny has the makings of an actress,’ Bobby answered for her as he hustled her out of the building.
* * *
‘You can’t seriously be thinking of working for that dirty old man?’ Bobby demanded as soon as they were closeted in the privacy of the cab.
‘You’re using the wrong adjective. We’re the ones with half a ton of Resonance dirt on us. Mr Fowler looked remarkably clean to me.’
‘You never said you wanted to work in a theatre.’
‘I would love to work in a theatre because it would mean returning to civilisation. Hot and cold running water, loos that flush, paving beneath my feet, lights I can switch on when it gets dark …’
‘I get the message,’ he interrupted. ‘You’re not a Pioneer at heart.’
‘I was the one who wanted to spend the summer in New York, remember.’
‘The city’s unbearably hot and humid in summer …’
‘The museums and galleries have air conditioning.’
He glanced at her. ‘You can’t possibly hate Resonance after less than twenty-four hours.’
‘I hate the mosquitoes. And I can’t say I’m keen on the bathroom and cooking arrangements.’
‘You’ll get used to them. At the end of the summer you’ll be reluctant to return to civilisation,’ he prophesied.
‘That, I doubt.’
‘I don’t trust dear old Harry. He’s obviously after only one thing.’
‘I can take care of myself.’
‘And if the lodging house doesn’t exist? How are you go
ing to fight him off if he takes you to his house …?’
‘You’ve been watching too many horror films.’
‘And you’re gullible. You know nothing about this man’
‘I know he’s the manager of the theatre. He gave me his card.’ She waved it in the air.
‘He could have stolen it.’
‘And the other dozen or more in his wallet?’
‘He could have stolen the wallet too.’
When she didn’t reply Bobby drove on in silence for the rest of the journey, leaving her to wonder if an affair that had started so promisingly could burn out so quickly.
Bobby parked the truck alongside the ones Sandy and Joan had driven.
‘Right, Pioneers, all out,’ he shouted.
‘No way,’ George shouted. ‘Pioneers, let the sit-in commence.’
All the teenagers remained in the trucks and began to sing ‘We Shall Overcome’ loudly and discordantly.
‘Quiet, you lot!’ Sandy shouted.
‘Too late, the Bishop and Pill Face have arrived and are watching,’ Doreen whispered.
Reverend Howard left his car and wobbled over to them. ‘What’s going on?’
‘A sit-in,’ Bobby explained.
‘A what?’
‘A sit-in,’ Joan reiterated. ‘We’re not sure what the problem is …’
The Pioneers switched to, ‘No no, no more culture, no more shows. You can’t tell us where to go.’
‘I guess they didn’t like the play,’ Sandy quipped.
Reverend Howard turned purple. ‘Get them out of those trucks.’
‘How?’ Joan asked.
‘Order them out.’
‘We tried. They ignored us,’ Bobby pointed out.
‘They can’t sit there for ever. Sooner or later they’ll have to leave the trucks to use the latrines.’
‘Penny’s right. Give them enough time and they’ll get antsy and bored,’ Bobby agreed.
Reverend Howard glared at both of them. ‘We’re here to educate and discipline the Pioneers, not ignore their rebellious streaks.’
Bobby's Girl Page 17
