The Show Must Go On (Bryant Rockwell Book 2)

by Jacky Gray

  Luke waited patiently until she finished. “I’ve been thinking about that.” He put his mug back on the table. “I think we need to leave it a few days before we sell tickets to our alternative do. That’ll give her a chance to piss plenty of people off about her exclusive guest list.”

  They spent the rest of the morning scheming, plotting and drinking tea, ending up with a good idea of how the next couple of weeks would go.

  16 Devious Dealings

  Planting the seed proved even easier than Luke could have imagined. In French, Diana made a bee-line for him, sitting uncomfortably close as she sympathised over the ice rink incident. “I heard that great lummox Judith Briskell pushed you over and skated over your hand. I think she should have been born a boy, she’s such a lout.” As she spoke, Diana took one of his hands and inspected it.

  It took quite an effort on Luke’s part not to flinch in disgust. He gently extracted it and displayed both hands to satisfy her they were free of marks. He had a much harder time keeping his voice neutral and choosing his words carefully so he didn’t appear to be defending Jude without actually slagging her off. “Nah, she just turned into a mother hen, trying to protect her precious Terry against the big bad bully boy. She thought I was going to have another bash at him but I was only going to the loo.”

  Most of his words fell on deaf ears as she quickly lost interest. He glanced at his watch, wondering when Madame Broussard would appear and save him from this excruciating small talk.

  Diana scrabbled in her bag, pulling out an invitation decorated with pumpkins and witches. She checked her diary. “Damn them.”

  “Who?”

  “The LEA, the governors, my parents and anyone else I can think of.”

  “Most people are pleased to be invited to parties,” Luke observed wryly.

  “I am, believe me. This is the party of the year. My cousins live at Bartley Hall and just about anyone who is anyone goes to it.”

  “But you can’t.”

  “No, my beastly parents have decided to take me to France for half term so we’ll be away on the 31st.”

  Luke refrained from pointing out how most kids would be made up with such a treat; no point antagonising her further. “And the LEA?”

  “They didn’t have to have half term on that particular week.”

  “It’s always the last week of October.”

  “You’re no help.” Her expression matched her tone: dreadfully spoilt and utterly unattractive.

  Judging aside, it gave him the perfect opening. “So why not have a do of your own before you go? A sort of pre-Halloween party.”

  “What a good idea. Mother could hire a hall and some caterers. Oh, no.”

  “Now what?”

  “Father’s got some silly conference in Scotland that week so he’s dragging Mother and I up to a hotel for the previous weekend. It’ll be ghastly, all those stupid men in kilts ...”

  “Why not have it during the last week of term? It’ll be so much better if your dad’s not there insisting it all finishes at ten.”

  “Ooohhh yes. And I could invite my cousins ...”

  Marion, one of the cover supervisors, walked in, saying Miss Broussard had been taken ill and they’d have to have a study period. She advised them to stay in class and not to make too much noise as Mr Frearshall was teaching in the adjacent classroom. Surprisingly, the noise level only went up a little bit, but the boys would much rather have her sitting at the front of the class. Something about the fact she was tall, gorgeous, and wearing the kind of heels which made her legs go on forever.

  Diana whispered. “If you can possibly tear your eyes away from that tart, I’d like some help planning this party. Do you think it should be fancy dress?”

  He kept his voice low. “It depends who you’re inviting, if it’s all adults they don’t tend to make the effort – too afraid of looking stupid.”

  “Mmm, you’re right. I can’t really invite all of my cousins’ friends, I only know a few of them, I suppose it’ll have to be some of these riffraff.”

  “Aren’t there loads of posh people at the riding club?” Luke enjoyed the opportunity to get lots of digs in. They went straight over her head; she took it for granted he would be on her side.

  “Ye-es, but not enough to fill the hall.”

  “Maybe you need a contingency plan. You could always have it in your mum’s house; don’t forget the hall may not be available.”

  “True. I’ll ring Mother at break and get her started on that, then we could get tickets printed.”

  “I could get Ray to do them on his computer. They’re dead professional, I saw some he did.”

  “Would he do that for me?” She looked dubious.

  “No, but he’d do it for me, he’s a good mate.”

  “I’d need at least a hundred, but I could get some orange card ...”

  “You’re thinking of asking the whole year then?”

  “Goodness me no, just a few of the better class ones.”

  “And your mum would be happy to arrange and pay for all this for you?”

  “Of course she would. Um, on second thoughts, she’s not very happy with me at the moment over the stables incident. Fanny Borstein came round in high dudgeon because of the state of my tackle. It’s not my fault; I’m not used to cleaning, so I paid one of the juniors to do it.”

  She glared at Rebecca. “I swear that cow had something to do with snitching on me, but I can’t prove it ...”

  “Whatever. Maybe you could run a raffle and give the profits to the PTA. Then your mum might be more inclined to help.”

  “That’s a good idea. She was only saying the other day she ought to do more for the school with Father on the board of governors. I’m sure I’ve got some tragically unsuitable presents I can give away as prizes.”

  “That way, you could sell raffle tickets to everyone in the class and only give the real invitations to the ones you wanted to come to the party.”

  “Oh, yes. This will be so good.” She almost clapped her hands, then reined it in and squeezed his arm.

  Marion glanced over. “Haven’t you two any work to do instead of cuddling up all lesson?” She continued to scan the room.

  Luke checked the woman out, making no secret of his appreciation of her physical attributes. He was only human.

  Diana’s smirk dimmed. “Honestly, some people,” she muttered darkly, opening her French book. It held her attention for less than ten seconds before she snuck out her mobile and started texting.

  He couldn’t believe her nerve. “You do know mobiles are banned? You must have seen the letters.”

  “I know, but they’ll have to catch me with it first, I always keep it switched off in classes and only use it outside to make calls. I’m afraid I just can’t spend my life being incommunicado. There might be an important call.”

  Marion glared at them, and he used it as an excuse to get his head down and do some work.

  Diana sulked as they walked to the maths block. “I can’t believe it. Mother refuses to book the church hall for the Friday before half term. Something about an early sailing.”

  He sent up grateful thanks. “You do realise we’re not at school, it’s a teacher training day. I told you to have it earlier in the week. The Wednesday would be better, then you can bring the prizes in on Thursday for anyone who wasn’t invited.”

  “As if they would win anything. No ticket, no prize.”

  The ethics of selling tickets to people who couldn’t win a prize appalled him, but he suppressed his shock. “The disco might be cheaper mid-week.”

  “Money’s no object.” She sniffed at the idea. “But it might be more available. And the caterers; she was struggling to book anyone decent for the Friday. I’ll call her right away.” Holding a hanky to her nose, she dashed away just as Lenny opened the door to let them into the maths class.

  “Sorry Miss Leon, nose bleed.” She got half-way down the hall before Lenny had a chance to speak, but the t
eacher let it pass with a shrug. Her expression said it all: why waste precious teaching time chasing after a girl who spent most of the lesson trying to avoid the task in hand? Diana frequently disrupted any explanations with questions designed to undermine and confuse.

  The class had many more deserving causes for Lenny’s limited energy. Luke watched the teacher’s warm gaze skip over Liv and Ray and, unbelievably, land on him. Her concerned frown made no sense and he looked at the starter activity written on the board, taking the opportunity to attempt it without Diana’s annoying presence.

  Twenty minutes later, she reappeared with a brief apology and sat next to him, intent on distracting him with an update. He sensed the gazes of Jude and Liv; even Ray glanced over, and Lenny cottoned on.

  “Diana, are you sure you wouldn’t be better off in sick bay? You do look awfully pale.”

  “Er, no, Miss Leon. It seems to be all right now.”

  “Do think you could possibly concentrate on the lesson, now, and let the rest of the class continue with the exercise on page forty three?”

  “Yes, Miss Leon. Sorry. I was just trying to find out where we were.”

  “In a maths class, Diana. A little alien for you, I know, but some people actually want to do some work.”

  As soon as Lenny was called over to help Nelson, Diana whispered. “What a cheek. Father wouldn’t let her get away with teaching here if he knew the way she spoke to people.”

  “Button it, Di. I’m trying to concentrate.”

  Luke sensed Lenny’s barely suppressed humour as her lips twitched and she quirked a quizzical eyebrow at Diana’s bent head before returning to her desk. What the …? Was she onto them? Weird.

  At the end of the lesson, Diana told him her mum had managed to organise a venue, entertainment and food for the Wednesday night. Luke almost felt sorry for the poor woman at the thought of all her efforts going to waste. But it couldn’t be helped, and she’d played her part in making the monster that was her daughter.

  He got a brief respite from Diana at lunch thanks to the Bugsy rehearsal. He met Ray on the way, asking him to get word to the others that it looked like a goer. Apart from when they had lines to read together, he stayed away from the group. Sitting in a corner, he studied the script, generally acting aggrieved, as though they were at fault.

  After an afternoon spent listening to Diana’s spiteful remarks about the rest of the class and why she wasn’t going to invite them, he’d just about had enough of the nasty little toad to last him a lifetime. But at least she’d stopped finding every opportunity to make nasty remarks about Liv’s weight and her unsuitability to play Tallulah. That was a definite result.

  He sighed. Spoilt brat didn’t begin to describe quite how selfish, self-centred and immature she was. He needed a real break.

  17 Guilty Feet Ain’t Got No Rhythm

  Jude came to a halt on the ice as the music stopped; yet again she’d fluffed the complex combination move. In her head, she cursed long and nastily, without speaking a word. Bernie discouraged them from venting their anger out loud as even the mildest swearing was heavily frowned upon by the “old-school” competition judges.

  Instead of feeding her frustration with a bunch of criticism, her trainer approached and did the magical thing he did of holding her elbows and staring into her eyes. “Jude, you are an amazing, talented skater, but today some mental baggage is preventing you from performing at your optimum.”

  His calming energy enveloped her just as effectively as the hug she badly needed, but recent guidelines on trainer-student relationships prevented him from giving, at risk of losing his job.

  “You know what I’m going to ask. Say it.”

  She hesitated, thinking for the first time that this tried-and-tested technique might actually not cover certain mental states. Like a broken heart. She recited the mantra. “I am more than able to perform this move, and it will improve with practise.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Once more with feeling?”

  Blinking away unexpected tears brought on by his intense, soul-searching gaze, she shook her head.

  “Just as I thought. What’s his name?” He released her arms, following her off the ice, sitting next to her on one of the benches.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Bernie. There’s nothing you can do; this is something I’ve done, and it’s really bad.”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands as he stared into the distance for a couple of beats. Then he faced her, his expression grave. “You’ve been with me for three years, and not once in all that time, have you failed to commit less than a hundred-and-ten percent into every training session. Yes?”

  She nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

  “I know you well enough to recognise the signs. Whatever you think you’ve done is related to skating. This is why you cannot separate and ignore it as you do when you’ve argued with your sister or you’re not doing well at school. Or even when you fell out with that lad, Luke, last year.”

  The last one, thrown in like a curve ball, hit the spot. She gasped. “I can’t believe you remember his name.”

  “He was – is – important to you, so my brain latches on.” Another brief pause. “Talk me through it.”

  She closed her eyes, the image becoming clearer in her mind as she told the desperate tale of how she’d probably wrecked Luke’s sporting career.

  “From a fall on the ice? I doubt that very much. I’ve seen how fit he is; he will have better than average healing ability.”

  “But you don’t understand.” She explained about Diana making him fall on the same hip a few days earlier.

  Bernie nodded. “I see your concern. I’ll put him in touch with a physio who uses alternative therapy techniques like reiki and crystals to strengthen the healing. She’s had great success with bone and soft tissue injuries.”

  “That would be fantastic, thanks.”

  “But that’s not all of it. I realise it’s none of my business, but if you don’t cut out this amorphous mass of self-hatred shutting down your system, you’ll never be able to give your talent free rein.” He grinned. “Like when the virus infects the Enterprise and shuts down all the bio-neural gel packs.”

  She smiled; she’d never appreciated before quite how closely he listened to everything she said. It explained how he got such great results with his students. Breathing in, she felt an end-of-tunnel light shining on her tortured mind as she unburdened the guilt. Luke was such a hero, but she hadn’t got a clue how to apologise to him.

  Was it her imagination, or could she feel the solid rock which had taken residence in her gut start to break apart?

  The corners of Bernie’s eyes crinkled. “Attagirl. It won’t happen overnight, but in a couple of weeks, you’re gonna look back at this and wonder why you let it tear you apart. Go and blast off a couple of circuits and we’ll call it a day.”

  18 Never Underestimate the Enemy

  The high spot of Luke’s day was when Kat came round after school. He missed walking home with her, but within five minutes of getting in, he heard a tap on the back door. She’d come in through the gap in the hedge at the bottom of their gardens; she really meant what she said about under-cover operations. Her face oozed sympathy as he described the slow torture of his day and all the minute planning of madam’s big event.

  “Poor Luke. And we have it all to do as well. Liv’s gonna ring round and try to get somewhere for our alternative do.”

  “If she’s struggling, I might be able to get the room at the Rugby club. Dad knows Rob, the steward.”

  “Let Liv know, if you can. What about the tickets?”

  “We sorted those with Ray yesterday; he’s just got to add in the date and place. He’s going to bring a sample in for her to check tomorrow, then it’s all systems go.”

  A knock at the front door made Kat freeze. “It’s her, I know it is. Keep her on the doorstep while I shoot off round the back. Make sure the kitch
en door’s shut so she can’t see down the garden. Bye.”

  “Don’t be daft, Kat. You’re getting paranoid, she doesn’t even know where I live ...”

  “It’s for you, Lukey, and it’s a girlie.” Pete’s best ten-year-old voice shouted down the hall.

  Luke opened the door a crack and shut it quickly. “Bugger. You’re right. It’s her. But how?”

  “Never underestimate the enemy,” whispered Kat as she quietly closed the back door.

  “Am I never going to be free of her?” But she’d gone, so his words fell on thin air. “Coming,” he shouted, as he opened the door.

  He managed to get rid of Diana fairly quickly. She said she’d lost her list and Mother needed to know what to buy for the open evening geography display on Wednesday. But it made him realise how right the others were to be so careful. If she knew where he lived, she could pop up at any time. Oh, well. He only had to put up with it for the next two weeks.

  Rob came up trumps at the rugby club, saying they could have the room for free. Because it was for the PTA, they would get one of the team to do the disco, a guy whose kids were at the school. Rob’s wife Jan would also provide some food for a modest fee; she suggested just snacks and nibbles on the grounds that kids hardly ate a thing at parties; it was all about the dancing.

  All the club would take was the profit from the bar, but no alcohol would be on sale the night because everyone would be under age. Rob made Luke promise to come along for a trial in the junior team; he’d heard about his success in the school team and had been after him for a while.

  Luke rang Liv and told her the good news.

  She seemed well pleased, because the first three calls she’d made had all been unsuccessful. “Only the raffle prizes to get now; if we can all manage to get one good prize each, it should be enough. I’ll have a go at the corner shop and the newsagent and see if I can get a box of chocolates or sweets as consolation prizes.”