The Boy I Love

by Lynda Bellingham

  ‘Right, there will be a coach outside here in forty-five minutes to take you to Crewe. Sorry for any inconvenience.’

  ‘How long will the journey take, do you think? I am not from round here, and I have no idea where I am really.’ Sally tried to smile her way into the woman’s affections.

  ‘Oh dear, well, this is Rugby so if the traffic is OK on the motorway you should be there in an hour and a half. Here’s your ticket. Good luck, love.’ Her parting shot to Sally came with an attempt at a smile.

  Great, thought Sally. I am not going to get to my digs much before eight o’clock tonight.

  In fact, she arrived on the doorstep of her new home at seven thirty, and almost burst into tears of relief when her knock was answered, and Janie was standing there.

  ‘Goodness – we thought you must have got lost!’ the other girl cried.

  ‘I am so sorry, but I couldn’t ring you, could I?’ replied Sally as she practically fell through the door with her bags. ‘I have been on a train or a coach since ten o’clock this morning. Great British Rail, how do they manage it?’

  ‘You poor girl. Here, let me take your bags and you go and sit by the fire with Pete. I expect you’re starving. We have only got the basics in so far, but I can make you some cheese on toast and a cup of tea or a hot chocolate.’

  ‘Oh, that sounds like heaven,’ sighed Sally. ‘Thank you so much. Hello, Pete, nice to meet you.’ She leaned down to take Peter’s hand but he politely jumped up.

  ‘Sally, welcome. It is lovely to meet you too. What a bummer, eh? Still, you are here now, and Janie will have you settled in before you know it. She is a real mother hen, and I can’t believe I have been so lucky to find her. She rules my life!’ They sat down and let Janie fuss around them. Sally felt instantly at home, and the day’s woes faded fast as she ate her cheese on toast and wrapped her hands around a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

  ‘Have you got any idea what happens tomorrow morning?’ she asked Peter. ‘I am actually ASM, small parts and understudy so I am expecting to be in early doing chores, unfortunately.’ She grinned. ‘Not like you, Pete – a proper actor.’

  ‘Now, we are not having any distinctions between stage management and artistes in our company. We are all in it together, aren’t we, sweetheart?’ Peter grabbed Janie’s hand as she stood beside him and pulled her onto his lap. She let out a squeal of delight.

  ‘Oh yes definitely, we are all in it together.’ She giggled and wrapped her boyfriend’s hands around her. ‘I have every intention of getting myself a small part in some of the plays as well as making the costumes,’ she announced. Then: ‘Stop that, you wicked boy! Sorry, Sally, but he is very naughty.’ She turned on his lap and kissed him full on the lips.

  Sally took this as her cue to go to bed. ‘Good night, guys. I will leave you to it. I need to get to the theatre tomorrow for nine, so I will creep out and see you there later. Thanks for the lovely welcome.’ She made her way upstairs and left the lovebirds clasped in each other’s arms. They hardly seemed to notice Sally’s exit.

  Her little room looked so cosy as she opened the door. Dear Janie had made up her bed and put a bulb in the lamp for her. The curtains only just made it across the window but it was only a temporary home, so it didn’t matter for now. She found her wash-bag and made her way to the bathroom. There was a gorgeous smell of lavender from a candle burning in a saucer on the edge of the bath. Sally would have loved a long soak but decided to wait until she had got the feel of the place and how everything worked. She cleaned her teeth and had a quick wash, then fell into her little bed and was asleep in moments.

  ‘Sally, are you there? Come in, Houston?’ Heather broke through Sally’s reverie. ‘Can you make some drinks, please. Our leading actors have arrived.’

  ‘Sorry, Heather, I was miles away. No problem – I am on it.’ Sally crossed the stage and took note of two larger-than-life people standing centre stage.

  ‘Percy, my darling boy, take my bag.’ The voice belonged to a large-bosomed lady with lots of jewellery swathing her ample chest. Her head was decked with a turban of exotic material. The make-up was thick but immaculately applied, and the nails were long and scarlet.

  ‘Miss Delamaine?’ enquired Sally. ‘Can I get you a tea or coffee? I am Sally Thomas, one of the ASMs this season.’

  ‘Oh hello, dear, how kind of you to ask. Yes, a white coffee with a sweetener, if possible. There should be some around from last season. If not, I have some in my bag. And do we have biscuits, or have there been cut-backs already?’ She laughed and looked around for a response from her audience. Sally obliged with a chuckle and Percy let out a snort.

  ‘Peggy, you are a card! How do you do, dear? I am Percival Hackett, leading man to Miss Delamaine’s leading lady. I would like a strong white tea, please, and a glass of water for the meeting.’ With that he turned with a flourish and made his way to the centre seats.

  Sally went to the wings and prepared the refreshments as requested. She couldn’t find any sweeteners but she put a selection of the biscuits onto a separate plate for her ‘leading actors’ and took them over.

  ‘Thank you, dear girl. Put them on the floor here, would you?’ Percy pointed to a spot and Sally obliged, thinking to herself that this could all end in tears. But time enough for all that. First day, just be lovely and get through it, Sally.

  There was a clap of hands and all went quiet. Giles Longfellow had taken centre stage and was preparing to address his company. Sally quickly crossed to the wings and fetched him a chair which she placed to the side of him. He acknowledged the gesture with a quick smile then waved her away.

  ‘So, ladies and gentlemen – welcome, and let us begin.’

  Chapter 9

  While Giles explained his plan of action, Sally sat at the edge of the semi-circle with pen and paper and, while taking the odd note, mostly concentrated on sizing up the cast. Jeremy had seemed pleased to see her, although when Giles arrived he quickly made his excuses and went off to join him. Giles was deep in conversation with a rather handsome young man called Robert, she discovered from Heather, the font of all knowledge.

  ‘That is Robert Johnson, an actor; he has been around a couple of years and done a bit of telly. I think he is a personal friend of Giles Longfellow’s as he came to work here last season and then left. I think he was having a bit of a fling with Giles – don’t know much about him though.’

  Sally watched as Jeremy was introduced to Robert by Giles, and the three of them had an earnest chat about something. Jeremy certainly looked the part of the young actor. He was wearing flared coral-coloured jeans and a floral shirt, and had grown his hair so he could flick it provocatively. His orientation seemed in no doubt whatsoever now to Sally, and by the way that Robert was touching his arm and leaning towards him as they spoke, she guessed it would not be long before they were very good friends. A loud burst of laughter drew her attention towards Peter, her landlord, who was joking with Simon Day and Geoffrey Challis. Simon was a real Jack the lad and seemed full of fun. He had already winked several times at Sally during the course of the morning. Geoffrey was charming, just as Heather had told her, and seemed to fit in with everyone. She did not have a chance to talk to Charmaine or Sarah until they broke for coffee, when Sarah came over to the prompt corner and introduced herself.

  ‘Hi, I am Sarah Kelly the ASM. Can I do anything to help?’ she offered.

  Heather gave her two mugs of coffee and said, ‘Hi, Sarah. Take these to Giles, please. This is Sally, by the way. She is also an ASM and small parts, I believe.’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ said Sarah and went off with the coffees.

  Sally took the next two mugs and asked, ‘Pinky and Perky, I presume?’

  Heather burst into a fit of giggles. ‘Ssh! For God’s sake don’t let anyone hear you say that! But yes – spot on, Sally, you learn fast. I think we are going to get along. Better take some more biscuits, by the look of it. They are probably stocking up for later,
or eating them now so they don’t have to buy any lunch.’

  As Sally was coming back for another mug or two, Charmaine Lloyd approached her.

  ‘Hello, and what is your title in our esteemed little band? I am Charmaine, by the way,’ she drawled rather theatrically.

  ‘Yes, I realized,’ replied Sally. ‘I am Sally Thomas, ASM and small parts – lovely to meet you. Would you like a coffee or tea?’

  ‘No, thanks. I don’t suppose there is any Perrier water, is there? No, of course not, how silly of me. I suggested to Giles last year that he get a water-cooler thing, like the Americans have. Don’t suppose that has materialized though. God, I feel depressed already . . .’ She wandered off across the room trailing her coat behind her like a catwalk model.

  Interesting, thought Sally. Wonder if she is any good?

  Giles had announced the first three productions by the end of the morning, and there was great excitement because the opening show was going to be Joan Littlewood’s Oh, What a Lovely War! and everybody had to sing. Much to Sally’s amazement she was in the production as a Pierrot and had two solo songs!

  Heather slapped her on the back and feigned a disgruntled voice. ‘Well, that’s you out of service as far as my management is concerned. You will be faffing around singing and dancing instead of chasing up props for me.’

  ‘Oh no, I promise I will do all my stage-management stuff as well. Please don’t think you can’t rely on me,’ Sally assured her.

  ‘I am only joking,’ said Heather more gently. ‘Don’t worry, we will manage, and I think it is great you have got the songs. You must have a good voice.’

  ‘Not bad,’ said Sally modestly. She hid her true excitement for the time being. But boy, wait till she rang home and told them!

  The other two productions were to be A Man for All Seasons by Robert Bolt, starring Percy Hackett as Sir Thomas More and Peggy Delamaine as his wife. Percy was in his element, and had already cornered the poor wardrobe mistress to discuss his many and varied outfits. Charmaine was to play the daughter, and Jeremy had the role of More’s betrayer, Richard Rich.

  The third production in the line-up was to be a musical version of the famous Aristophanes’ play Lysistrata.

  ‘This will be, in essence, a world première, ladies and gentlemen, so it will attract great interest, we hope. It will also be the production to launch a three-day conference that this theatre will be hosting, for the Association of Repertory Theatres throughout the UK; so an important time for us all. Now the lead in this production will be our own, very lovely Charmaine Lloyd. I would like Sally Thomas to understudy you and play one of the neighbours in the town. So you will be very busy, Sally, combining all your posts. Heather, I am sure, will give you as much help as she can, although it will be a tough one for you, Heather, as all the girls will be in the show in some form or other. Sarah, that includes you.’

  Giles turned his gaze upon the young ASM who perked up considerably and said, ‘Oh, that’s great. I will really enjoy being part of the company. Thank you, sir.’

  ‘So now you all have your work cut out, we will break for a quick lunch and then everyone back here for two o’clock. I will start with a musical rehearsal taken by our musical director Mr Timothy Townsend. Take a bow, Tim.’ The musical director stood for his applause. He was a very unprepossessing little man with a bald head and ample paunch, which must get in the way of him playing the piano, thought Sally.

  The company broke, and Sally was about to suggest a bag of chips when Heather took her arm and led her towards the cluster of folk in the corner who had not been part of the cast list as such, but consisted of the designer and lighting crew and the chief carpenter.

  ‘There’s no time to stop. You have to join the production meeting now, my girl. Though I suspect it will be held in the pub?’ Heather addressed this last word to a huge man in overalls with shoulder-length hair and a fine beard and very twinkly eyes.

  ‘Pub is right on, Heather my lass, and is this fine-looking young lady my dinner for today?’ He peered down at Sally, who fleetingly felt a shiver of panic before the giant burst into a huge guffaw and introduced himself. ‘Will Black at your service, chief carpenter and maker of magic. You are Sally, are you not? ASM and not so small parts, I gather. You will be a busy little bee. Come on, let’s get to the pub so we can start our very important production meeting.’ He gave her a big wink and turned away to the rest of the group to chivvy them up. Sally followed on feeling like Alice in Wonderland. Nothing seemed real any more.

  The pub was opposite the theatre and a world away from the picturesque Cheltenham scene. This was a drinking pub and nothing else. The tables were stained and chipped, and the chairs hard and uncomfortable. There was scarcely a female in sight, as men stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the bar, their arms lifting their pints almost in unison, like some sort of tribal dance. Will caused a parting of the ways and they all followed him through to a back room.

  ‘Fetch a few more chairs and I’ll get the drinks in. Pints all round, is it?’ He paused when he caught Sally’s eye. ‘Ah well, maybe not quite. What are you having, my dear, gin and tonic?’ Sally would have given her right arm for a gin and tonic but had the good sense not to rise to the taunt.

  ‘Pint of cider, please,’ she said. ‘Draught if they have it.’

  Will gave one of his guffaws and disappeared into the bar. Once everyone was settled, the plans came out on the table and design took over while Sally and Heather, notepads at the ready, awaited instructions. Sally was in a complete state of giddy excitement about her roles in Oh, What a Lovely War! and trying to fathom out just what her duties were going to be backstage. Because they did a new production every two weeks the sets all had to be very adaptable, and Will had his work cut out to keep new ideas coming. The lighting designer had a standard rig, but subject to finance would try and give each production a little extra something. What struck Sally very clearly was just how passionate everyone was about their jobs. She began to feel a sense of pride in being part of the team. But then suddenly it was five to two and Sally had to put her actress’s hat on and get back for the music call.

  ‘I am sorry but I have to go,’ she whispered to Heather.

  ‘Yes, go on. Don’t worry, we are nearly done here anyway, and when the pub shuts that is definitely the end of the meeting,’ the other girl laughed. ‘Go! Or you will be late and that will not look good.’

  ‘Tell Will I shall get the next round in when I see him.’ Sally rose and nipped out before anyone could pass comment. She just made it to the stage as Timothy was handing round the music sheets.

  ‘Now I think the best way to go about this is to start with an ensemble number so we can all warm up our voices, and then I am going to listen to each one of you in turn, and put you in the correct place for your range. So please all look at the title song “Oh, What a Lovely War!”’

  The company spent the next half an hour belting out the tune and feeling very uplifted.

  ‘There is nothing like a good singsong to lift the spirits, is there?’ a voice whispered in Sally’s ear. It was Simon and she laughed and nodded.

  Timothy was a wonderful pianist despite his paunch and was soon putting people in different spots next to each other.

  ‘We are going to have to learn harmonies. Have any of you got tape machines? If so, I can play your harmonies for you and you can record them and learn them at your leisure.’

  Robert and Jeremy put their hands up, and surprisingly, Sarah did too. The rest of them all looked a bit pathetic. Percy and Peggy laughed it off, announcing that they would pick up the tunes soon enough. Charmaine looked pained and said, ‘I don’t really do singing. Can’t I just stick with the tune?’

  Timothy looked a little taken aback. ‘Well, that is not quite the spirit, Charmaine, but we will see how we get on. Sally, what are you going to do, especially about your solos? I won’t have much time to spend with you on your own. Would you be able to get hold of a cassette, do you
think?’

  Sally was already thinking what to do. ‘Um, yes, of course – I will see what I can do. Sorry I am not prepared. I had no idea I would be used so soon.’ She looked round the room, embarrassed, feeling very unprofessional.

  ‘Well, I understand you have a beautiful voice,’ encouraged Timothy, ‘so we must make use of it. Now I want us to have one more go at all the company stuff then we can call it a day, because some of you have to go to Wardrobe now, I understand.’

  After the rehearsal was finished Sally went to find Heather for further instructions. It was already five thirty and she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was go back to the digs, have a hot bath followed by some baked beans on toast and go to bed – which reminded her: she would have to do some shopping on the way home, because she had bought no supplies, and could not expect Janie to cater for her again.

  Heather was in her office printing out the next day’s calls.

  ‘Listen, love, you have had a long day so I won’t go through all this now. Let’s meet tomorrow at nine and I’ll show you the schedule, et cetera. But if you wouldn’t mind just handing these out to those still left in Wardrobe and pinning one on the noticeboard at the stage door when you leave, that would be great.’

  ‘Oh thank you, Heather, so much. I must say I am knackered. I will get the milk and biscuits for tomorrow so you don’t have to worry.’

  ‘OK, but remember – no more biscuits now until the next special event. Don’t spoil them. If this lot have them every day they will never appreciate the treat. Plus it will cost you an arm and a leg, and believe me you will find your wages go quick enough without feeding the five thousand.’

  ‘OK thanks, point taken. Just milk then. See you in the morning,’ Sally called back over her shoulder. She found Janie in a tiny room off the wardrobe going through baskets of costumes and said, ‘You still at it, you poor thing? What time are you going to finish?’

  ‘Oh, I am just filling in time while Pete has his fitting. He is nearly done. Shall we walk back together? I have made a stew for tonight. It only needs heating up, and we can get a loaf on the way home from the corner shop. Thank God it stays open late because we have discovered nothing much stays open in Crewe after five.’ Janie closed the lid of a trunk and stretched her back.