The girls waved their parents out of sight and stood on the doorstep. It had turned chilly now the sun was going down, and dusk was spreading its blanket over the rows of terraced houses with their identical red-brick chimneys and their gently curling smoke signals evaporating into the darkening sky.
Sally opened the door and they both stepped inside without a word. They climbed the stairs to the landing, and then walked slowly into their new home. Dora turned on an overhead light which needed a shade, while Sally went and plugged in the electric fire. It was soon glowing like a fairground ride thanks to their father’s donation earlier to the meter in the kitchen. Sally switched on a table light with a warm pink shade, again donated by the parents, its rosy light spreading tranquillity through the room.
‘Look what Mum has left us,’ announced Dora, coming in from the kitchen with a bag of crumpets and a plate of cream cakes.
Sally sank into the battered armchair and let out a sigh of contentment. ‘Dora, this is perfect, our very own space. It is so cosy already. I love it. Would you be an angel and put the kettle on while I start to attack this script?’ she asked.
Dora looked slightly miffed. ‘Well, I suppose so, just this once. But don’t think I am going to wait on you hand and foot, once I start working, sister dear.’
Sally looked up at her, checking for signs of real bad temper and found none. She grinned.
‘No, of course not, silly – just today. I am so behind, and it has all been a hell of a learning curve. You wait till tomorrow, Dora – you won’t believe the hours!’
Dora went into the kitchen to fill the kettle.
‘I can’t wait,’ she said to herself with a big grin on her face. ‘I simply cannot wait.’
Chapter 16
The inhabitants of the upstairs flat at number 7, Ridgeway Road were a little stressed the next morning. Sally was up bright and early, but her sister proved more of a problem. The coffee failed to raise her, so did the radio on full blast, so finally Sally was forced to resort to pulling the covers off, hardening her heart to the moans and groans of protest.
‘Dora, I am sorry, but this is the reality. We have to be at the theatre by nine, so come on, move your arse, please. You’ve got fifteen minutes.’
Dora let out a scream and leaped from the bed. She made a dash to the bathroom, wailing, ‘It’s sooo cold!’
Sally couldn’t agree with her more, but there was no central heating, and the idea of getting up even half an hour earlier to put the electric fire on was too much, not to mention the electricity bill. So Sally had got used to the morning dash to the ablutions, and often didn’t bother until she got to the warmth of the theatre.
She made Dora another coffee and a piece of toast to make amends, and when Dora appeared at the bathroom door wrapped in her huge fluffy dressing gown, Sally explained the problems, and suggested that her sister do the same and just make sure there were lots of woollies to hand each morning to slide into at speed. Dora’s answer was a bleary-eyed nod.
They managed to leave on time and jogged down the hill to the theatre which warmed them up a little. They arrived just after nine, in fact, so the wonderful Gladys was there to greet the new recruit.
‘Morning, Sally, and good morning to you, Miss Dora. We have been expecting you. It is a pleasure to have your lovely face gracing my stage door, and I wish you every success with the season. Anything you need or any problems, come to Gladys.’
Dora puffed up with pride and plonked a big kiss on Gladys’s cheek. ‘Thank you, darling, I will.’ And with that she flounced off down the stairs.
‘Quite the actress, eh?’ said Gladys with a wink. ‘You wanna watch yourself, duckie. She will be after your job next.’ She laughed so hard she had a coughing fit. Sally left her to it and hurried after Dora. She found her talking to Heather outside the wardrobe department.
Heather was already doing her recruiting speech but Sally interrupted her with; ‘Hang about, Heather. Gwendoline has first refusal, you know.’
Heather sighed. ‘I know, I know, but it would be great if Dora can spare me a bit of time to get some props when you are doing your acting. You know what it’s like now, Sally – every bit of help is needed.’
Sally nodded in sympathy, but added, ‘Yes, you are right – but can we just start Dora where she was supposed to be and then take it from there?’
Heather laughed. ‘Yeah, of course. Good luck, Dora – but remember me, please.’ And the stage manager was off up to the stage to begin the day.
Gwendoline was inside the wardrobe department with her head in the washing machine as usual.
‘Hi guys, be with you in five minutes,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you make us all a coffee? I even brought some buns in this morning as a special treat to welcome Dora.’
‘Oh thank you so much, Gwendoline,’ gushed Dora, ignoring the signs from her sister indicating that she should lay off the creeping.
Sally said, ‘That is lovely of you and we will get started. Come on, Dora, take at least one of those cardigans off and let’s get to work. I will make coffee while you acquaint yourself with where everything is.’ Dora took the hint, and slipped off her coat and top cardigan then went to join Gwendoline.
Sally made coffee and put the buns on a plate, not before stuffing one in her mouth. Then she called out to the others: ‘Coffee’s ready. I am off to set up with Heather. Come and find me later, Dora, when Gwendoline has finished with you – if she finishes with you at all!’
Up onstage the actors were all gathering for the first scenes. Sally found Jeremy in a corner as usual.
‘I am so sorry I was not around yesterday,’ she told him, ‘but my family arrived with my sister Dora, and we moved into our new flat. Do you want me to read a couple of scenes with you now, before we start? Is there time?’
Jeremy looked relieved. ‘Yes, come on, let’s whip up to the Green Room and you can take me through these two scenes.’
Sally told Heather where she was going, and Heather waved her off, saying, ‘See you in half an hour.’
The two friends left the stage and went upstairs. After they had finished and were on their way back down, they passed Geoffrey Challis’s dressing room and Gwendoline came out, looking a little ruffled. Just before she managed to shut the door, Sally caught a glimpse of Geoffrey very much in a state of undress.
Her surprise must have registered on her face enough for Gwendoline to feel the need to stammer: ‘Just sorting Geoffrey out with a costume that needs adjusting. The poor man is hardly awake.’ And she scuttled off.
Sally looked at Jeremy and said, ‘Well, that was a bit odd at this time of day, don’t you think?’
He looked perplexed. ‘What do you mean exactly?’
Sally laughed. ‘Oh Jeremy, you are useless. You miss everything. The wardrobe mistress coming out of an actor’s dressing room, before nine thirty in the morning, looking a little flustered. And the actor with only his pants on. One could be forgiven for suspecting a bit of hanky panky!’
Jeremy eyed his friend a little crossly. ‘Oh, for goodness sake – not you as well, Sally. Why does everyone have to bring sex into everything? Maybe she was just fitting him.’ He marched on down the corridor followed by a giggling Sally. Fitting him for what though? she thought to herself, and made a mental note to find out what was bugging her friend about sex.
On stage, Giles was clapping his hands and calling for quiet.
‘I need to tell you all a couple of things about the next two productions. Is everyone here? Where are Sally and Jeremy and Geoffrey? Heather, can you give them a call over the Tannoy, please. In the meantime, I will start with Act Two this morning so if everybody would be kind enough to hang around the theatre or at least keep close by – preferably not in the pub, Percy.’
This drew a groan from Percy and a snort from Peggy, who said, ‘He will be in my dressing room with me, sir, doing his lines.’
Sally and co arrived with apologies and the cast was complete.
>
Giles took the floor.
‘There are a couple of problems with Lysistrata and the chorus. We have some wonderfully strong voices already but we need to swell the numbers. I have two thoughts. First, is to engage a couple more actresses from local sources if possible, and second, we pre-record the songs and then play the choral numbers on speakers from the wings to increase the volume. I would appreciate any suggestions for the actresses and I have, in fact, already contacted the stage school to see if any of the teachers fancy a go.
‘The second point is to give you all a heads-up on the casting for Hamlet. We are very excited to be able to announce the arrival of Rupert Hallam who is making a name for himself on the small screen in the very popular Up at the Big House which is in its second series, and I know he is going to do a wonderful job as Hamlet. Opposite him I have engaged another rising star, Isabelle James, fresh from her first film, playing a part in a new Woody Allen movie, as yet untitled. I hope you will all make them most welcome. With regards to the rest of the casting, I would like to see Jeremy, Simon and Peter tomorrow lunchtime, and can you all be prepared to read different scenes and different parts for me, please? Right, that is housekeeping over, now let’s get back to good old Sir Thomas, shall we?’
The boys all went off to a corner to discuss their chances, and Jeremy found his way to Robert who had been standing behind Giles throughout, as usual.
‘Could I have a word please, Robert?’ Jeremy asked a little tentatively.
‘Of course you can, my dear. Fire away.’ Robert turned and fixed Jeremy with his very blue eyes which seemed to bore into him like a laser.
Jeremy took a deep breath and said, ‘I would very much like to have a stab at Laertes, and if you think I am in any way suitable for the part, would you put in a good word for me with Giles?’
Robert looked at Jeremy, appraised him, and took his time. Jeremy held his ground and waited.
It seemed an age before Robert finally gave his response. ‘Yes, of course I will. Leave it with me.’
‘Thank you very much,’ replied Jeremy and left Robert watching him depart to join the boys.
Sally in the meantime had dashed up to Wardrobe to grab Dora.
‘Listen, sis, I think there may be a job for you in the next production, singing in the chorus. Maybe even a couple of lines. What do you think?’
Dora was on her sewing machine already and had to stop production to take all this in.
‘Oh my God, you really think so? But can I do it, Sally? I am not an actress.’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous,’ scoffed Sally. ‘You have an amazing singing voice – nearly as good as mine. That’s a joke, by the way. You can do it standing on your head and you have got me to help. Giles wants suggestions and then he will audition you.’
‘Audition me?’ yelped Dora. ‘I will be so nervous though. What will I sing?’
‘Anything you like. A Beatles song, a folk song – you know loads of them – and I can always take you through some of the actual chorus from the play. You must have a go, Dora – please!’
‘OK, OK I will do it. Now let me get on with this, or I will get the sack before the end of my first day!’
Sally went to find Giles and talk to him about her sister. He seemed pleased and impressed by the Thomas family’s talent.
‘That is good news, Sally. Tell your Dora that I will see her next Saturday morning at ten o’clock onstage.’
Thrilled to bits, Sally spent the rest of the morning working her way through the props. Simon, Peter and Jeremy had gone off to Wardrobe to check out the new girl, and were all very happy: there was a sudden rush to be measured for their costumes. Gwendoline came to Dora’s rescue by informing them that the costumes were all hired, and if there were any alterations, she and Janie would be doing them, as Dora was assigned to making the girls’ costumes for Lysistrata. Knowing they were going to be very flimsy, this only increased the boys’ interest in design, and Dora was invited to the pub at lunchtime for a chat.
‘Oh, go away, you horrible lot and let me get on,’ scolded Dora. ‘But I shall expect the drinks to be on you later, or my mouth is sealed.’
Sally laughed and made a mental note not to worry too much about her sister; she could obviously take care of herself. There were far more important things to concentrate on, like finding a throne for the play and doing another performance of Oh, What a Lovely War! tonight. As the actors all traipsed downstairs Sally felt obliged to remind them of this and suggested they rest between the rehearsal and the show. Fat lot of good it would do.
Heather was coming towards her brandishing a notepad.
‘Oh, this looks like bad news,’ sighed Sally. ‘Where do you want me to go?’
Heather was apologetic. ‘We need to nail this throne as it is the main prop really. Lord Edward Graham has offered to lend us one. Amazing, eh? He is a great friend of Giles’s, apparently. Anyway, if you could go with Peter in the van and pick it up this lunchtime, it would be perfect. I know you will probably miss lunch but I will treat you both to a McDonald’s on the way back.’ She handed Sally some cash. ‘Is that a fair deal?’
Sally knew she had no choice but that was OK – all part of the job. ‘Your wish is my command,’ she said brightly. ‘Just one favour, will you keep an eye on Dora in the pub? You might have to remind her that she has to come back at two and work.’
‘Will do,’ replied Heather, hurrying off to her next assignment.
Sally stood in the corridor for a minute trying to remember what she was going to do next. Oh, yes of course – she needed a pee!
Chapter 17
Sally and Peter drove through massive black wrought-iron gates, topped with a crest and a motto in Latin. Before them stretched a road winding its way between two lines of beautiful conifers; spreading back across the adjacent lawns were huge oaks and chestnut trees which had obviously been planted hundreds of years ago. The road twisted for at least a mile and a half and then suddenly, over the brow of a little hill, Crewe Hall came into view.
‘Wow!’ breathed Peter.
‘Yes, indeed,’ Sally managed to stutter. ‘Golly, this is stunning and it must be very old. All that half-timbering is fifteenth-century Tudor, isn’t it?’
They drove round the sweeping courtyard past an impressive fountain which, despite the winter frosts, was spouting happily. While they were wondering if they could leave their rather tatty van outside the front entrance, a man in a pinstriped suit appeared.
‘Good morning, folks,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I am Chester, the butler. You must be from the theatre. You can leave the van here and we can go and fetch the throne. It is quite heavy, I should warn you, young man.’
Sally made the introductions and then they followed Chester inside the enormous pile. She wished her father could be here to see this magnificent entrance hall, with its high vaulted ceiling soaring over a huge oak staircase that wound its way down from heaven above to the ground floor. All the wood was in such good nick and polished to perfection that Sally couldn’t help but comment, ‘Gosh, you must have quite a staff working here to keep this in such good condition.’
Chester answered quite naturally, ‘Oh yes indeed, we have a team of cleaners on a rotation scheme. Crewe Hall is like the Forth Bridge: by the time you get to the other end you have to start again. I am sure His Lordship would be happy for you to have a tour at some point. We do official tours in the summer, but yours would be private. I will mention it to him at the next Housekeeping meeting. Now here is the throne. We brought it down from the throne room for you to save time. Can you hold the cushions, Sally? And, Peter, if you take the other arm, hopefully we can lift the chair or drag it outside.’
The two men managed to make it to the front of the house, but then hit the problem of the gravel driveway.
Peter had a suggestion. ‘I will back the van up so we can lift it in without damage.’
This accomplished, the three of them managed, with the help of a rope or tw
o, to get the throne into the van, laid carefully on its side on top of a rug.
‘Well done,’ said Chester rather breathlessly. ‘I can see you both have some commonsense. I would just remind you again, and please pass this on to your colleagues, that this throne is very old and very valuable.’
‘Absolutely understood, sir,’ replied Sally. ‘Is His Lordship coming to watch the play?’ she added.
‘Yes, I believe he will be attending with his son and daughter. He is very keen on history, as you can imagine, and likes to encourage that interest in his children. After all, they will inherit all this eventually, so it is important they understand the historical background of Crewe Hall and where they come from.’
Sally and Peter thanked the friendly butler and set off down the beautiful drive once more. They drove much more slowly on the way home, aware of the priceless item that was on board. When they queued at the drive-in for their McDonald’s, they both giggled at the thought of what they carried in the back of the van. It was a long jump from Tudor lords to travelling players like themselves, partaking of an American hamburger!
Heather was waiting back at the theatre worrying about her most precious prop. She had the scene dock open for easy access and Peter drove the van straight in. They managed to unload the throne with no difficulty, and placed it, wrapped in its blankets, in a safe corner.
Heather announced: ‘This is now my responsibility for the whole of the run. Giles has informed me that the throne is insured for thousands of pounds. So if it goes missing or gets damaged, I am in deep doo-doos!’
During the tea break, Sally went to find Percy to suggest he come and take a look at his magnificent throne – maybe sit in it and get the feel of it. She also thought it might be a good idea to make sure he understood how valuable it was before he had his mid-morning coffee and biscuits while seated in it! She knocked on Percy’s dressing-room door but, as was often the case, it was Peggy’s lilting voice that called out, ‘Come in! Oh Sally my dear, how lovely of you to come and see us. The kettle has just boiled, and I am making a pot for Percy and me, but we can add another cup.’ She rose from her chair and went to the cabinet of crockery to find another china cup and saucer. It was always china cups for tea, with Peggy.
The Boy I Love Page 12
