The Show Must Go On (Bryant Rockwell Book 2)

by Jacky Gray

  After shaking his hand, Mrs Donelly checked her watch. “Right, I’ll meet you outside the foyer at ... what time did you say it finished?”

  “Can I suggest you come back here at about twenty past eleven? That will give us plenty of time to get back if it overruns.” Terry sounded smooth, like he was used to discussing grown-up plans. “Also, you won’t be fighting the traffic outside the theatre. Colin says it’s an absolute nightmare.”

  “Can we make it as close to eleven as possible? I want to be in bed before midnight because Amy always gets me up at seven.”

  He nodded. “Ok, we’ll do our best.”

  “Ray, you have Marge’s number, can you call me when it finishes? I’ll come straight away.” She got in the car and wound down the window, shouting out in true mother style. “But don’t forget to switch it off during the performance. Have a great day, everyone. See you later.”

  Her warning earned an eye-roll from Ray and several sympathetic glances. As the Range Rover pulled away, they hung around, blocking the pavement.

  Jude’s phone pinged with a text. She peering down the street and shouted, “They’re here.”

  A small blue car drove past slowly and they waved at Kat as it pulled into the nearest parking space. Three bodies tumbled out and the pavement clogged up even more as everyone greeted the latest arrivals.

  “Hi guys, this is Liam, my long-lost cousin from the Emerald Isle.”

  “Now, will you stop with that, Kat? They’ll be taking me for one of the little people.”

  Little he certainly wasn’t. At six foot one he could give Luke a run for his money, but he appeared taller because he wasn’t as wide. He certainly seemed to be big buddies with Luke, though. They teased each other about whose fault it was they took so long to get there.

  Kat put on a long-suffering face passed a small package to Liam, who quit joshing and held it out.

  “Now then, you must be Terry. Just a small token of my appreciation for settin’ this up. Three days on the mainland and already I’m to be watching a Shakespeare play at his very own theatre. Nice one.”

  Terry was totally taken aback and stared at the lanky Irishman until Kat’s mime of opening it pierced his consciousness and he followed her example.

  “Oh, wow. Thanks, Liam. This is great.”

  Mel snatched it off him. “Let’s see: The Stories of Oscar Wilde. Very nice.” She opened it and scanned the titles. “The Happy Prince, The Star Child, The Selfish Giant. It’s a book of fairy stories. How apt.”

  “It’s my old adversary, Mel.” Terry grabbed the book back. “Still doing the Queen B routine. Nice to know some things never change.”

  “Except I see you’ve found some balls. Well done, I always knew you had it in you.” She gave him a hug and he swept her up, turning her round before putting her down.

  “And some muscles, too. I see what you mean.” Mel winked pointedly at Liv. “I could quite go for him myself.”

  Kat took charge, introducing Liam formally to everyone.

  Spared the need to reply, Liv sighed her relief. She couldn’t bring herself to do the “hands off he’s mine” routine in front of Ray, and she didn’t want to hurt Terry’s feelings by doing the “you’re welcome to him” thing. If only her mind didn’t deal in wisecrack responses to every situation – she really should learn to button it occasionally.

  Kat drew her toward Liam. “And this is Liv; she’s the brains of the outfit.”

  “Though of course, I’d rather be the looks or the talent, but you can’t have everything.” The well-worn line had survived much overuse.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Kat says you do a mean Tallulah, so that’s three out of three in my book.”

  Liv ignored the compliment, gesturing at the book. “I like Oscar Wilde too. Especially the plays: Earnest and all that. So-oo important.”

  Liam grinned, then morphed into an English aristocrat. “A handbag??!!”

  She quoted the iconic line. “To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune ...”

  Liam picked it up. “… to lose both looks like carelessness. Wonderful. Love the accent. I can definitely see you as Lady Bracknell.”

  “And I wouldn’t even need any padding.”

  “Ah, sure. I like a woman with something I can get hold of.” Which is exactly what he did, to the consternation of at least two of the others.

  On the way into Stratford, Terry took them across the bridge and they paused to gaze down at the famous swans and the brave souls out in rowing boats. He knew the town well, leading them through the park in front of the theatre. “In the summer this is packed with tourists ...”

  “What, more so than now?”

  “Much more. There’s always something going on: jugglers, mime artists, even a flame thrower.”

  As if to back him up, they heard the strains of pipe and fiddle. A crowd was starting to form, including bunches of young girls in brightly embroidered costumes with stiff panels on the skirts.

  “Cool, a Ceilidh,” exclaimed Kat. “That’s an Irish dancing competition.”

  They stopped and watched for a few minutes, but couldn’t see much past the onlookers. An age passed between each piece, so the gang moved on into the town centre, looking in all the windows. As Liv led them into an old-fashioned toy shop, Ray and Luke groaned.

  She appealed to the others. “I think it would be nice to get something for Amy from all of us to say thanks to your mum for transporting us here.”

  Ray scowled. “Fine, you girls can do that.”

  “But we don’t know what she likes.” Liv tried reason.

  “Anything Peppa Pig. Simples.”

  Kat supported her. “Or what she’s got already.”

  “Or her size.” Liv held up a hat. “And then there’s age-appropriate …”

  Ray raised his eyes heavenward. “Ok, I surrender, you’ve nagged me into it. I pity your poor husband, he’ll be well under the thumb.” He glared pointedly at Terry.

  Liv felt completely belittled. She wasn’t a nag, was she? It spoiled her appreciation of the toddlers’ wonderland of a shop. The play area had a life-size model of Rosie & Jim’s narrow boat and the walls decorated with scenes from some of the shows produced by a Stratford-based company.

  “Ohhh look, here’s Tots TV. I’m a tot, je suis a tot, Tilly, Tom and Tiny.” Kat sang as she picked up one of the dolls and a little girl nearby clapped her hands and started repeating it.

  “They were one of my favourites, and Sinead loves it too. Tilly says things in French; it’s very good for learning.”

  Ray and Mel made disparaging comments about her age.

  Kat handed the doll to the girl, muttering under her breath. “You’d know if you had a five-year old in the house.”

  Liv jumped in to support her. “Don’t worry, Kat. I bet they’d be every bit as bad if it was a Pokémon game boy.”

  Jude perked up immediately. “Pokémon. Now you’re talking. Megan’s only got about three cards to go for the full set.”

  “Hey, maybe she should get together with Pete; he’s got a whole raft of swaps.” Luke gave himself away too.

  “See what I mean, we never grow up. I’ve seen a couple of year nine girls wearing these things.” Liv picked up a tiny pink back-pack shaped like a pig. Terry picked a handful of the back packs up and thrust them at Ray. “So which one’s your favourite? I mean your sister’s favourite.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny. She’d like that one, with George on it.”

  Liv jumped on it. “See what I mean? You must have watched your kid sister’s shows, so you shouldn’t sneer at Kat for the same thing.”

  “Ok, Teacher. Or is that, Mother? Please don’t nag us any more.”

  Liv’s confidence was so low, this second attack by Ray hurt unreasonably. She turned away as tears sprang to her eyes.

  Kat turned to Ray. “So, has she got a back pack?”

  “No, I’m sure it’ll be ok.” He and Mel exchanged “bored now” eye-rolls as
Kat examined it. “This label says not suitable for children under three.”

  Terry held one up. “This one says from two years. You did say she’s two?”

  “Yeah. Blimey, Terry. You’re getting as bad as Liv.”

  Terry’s glare could have frozen milk. “I want to get out of here. Unlike the rest of you, I don’t have any kids in the family so this stuff leaves me cold.” He grabbed Liv’s arm and steered her to the checkout.

  Their next stop was a quaint restaurant with a spider caught in a web depicted on the old Tudor frontage and Terry once more became the perfect host. “It claims to be one of the oldest buildings in Stratford with a ghost and everything. And they’ve got a ramp, I checked.”

  They only had one table for four downstairs, but the staff were keen to make things easy for Ray. Mel sat on one side of him and Liv on the other.

  “We’ll go upstairs then,” said Jude, grabbing Luke’s arm. Kat and Liam followed her up, leaving Terry to take the fourth seat opposite Ray.

  As they perused the menu, the waitress said there was a short wait unless they ordered from the daily specials. Terry went upstairs to make sure the others knew.

  Mel mentioned some places in Portsmouth Ray might know; she seemed to be deliberately excluding Liv.

  Recalling his slip in the car, Liv composed her features into innocence itself. “So what were the disabled facilities like at the swimming baths?”

  “No idea.” He answered automatically then, as though realising his mistake, glanced at her sharply. “It was before the accident.”

  “Liv didn’t tell me, what exactly did happen to you?”

  Good old Mel. She could always be relied upon to jump in feet first where angels fear to tread. Liv had never managed to find the right circumstances to ask him after his assertion that he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. He glared at her as if to say “Cheers pal, now look what you did,” and took such a long time replying she thought he wasn’t going to speak.

  For once, Mel stayed silent; even she sensed this was pretty momentous.

  At last he came to a decision and gazed a little way past Mel. “I was smashed up in a car crash at Easter. My uncle Jack died instantly. So did the driver of the other car.” His words came out in a steady monotone. “Both cars went over the mountain and I was trapped in the wreckage for five hours. Some guy walking his dog spotted the damage and went hunting.”

  The girls stared at him in horror. Liv felt a chill run down her spine at his flat, emotionless voice.

  Mel recovered first. “You were lucky the car didn’t catch fire.”

  He blinked, returning to normal speech. “The fireman told me that’s just something they do in films for effect; it doesn’t happen too often in real life. Bushes slowed the car down until it bounced off a fence and slithered into a tree. The cab crumpled, wedging the doors and crushing the front seats.”

  Their drinks appeared, closely followed by Terry. Ray seemed relieved by the interruption, greeting him like more of a friend than a rival.

  When Mel would have asked more questions, Liv’s kick under the table persuaded her not to.

  22 If Music Be the Food of Love …

  Liv sat in the famous theatre and mentally hugged herself. She really wanted to hug Terry for setting this up, but didn’t want to do it in front of the others. He sensed her excitement and discreetly took hold of her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. She gazed around the auditorium; it wasn’t as big as she thought it would be, given its world-class status. They were sitting half-way down, and the seats were arranged so everyone got a good view. Terry sat on the end of the row, next to her, then the others.

  Except Ray and Mel, who sat two rows in front; they’d taken away the aisle seat for his wheelchair. Liv noticed the way Mel held the programme she’d bought so he had to lean in close to read it.

  Jude passed a bag of chocolate éclairs round. Liv refused, as did Terry, offering her an extra strong mint instead. Exactly what she needed to freshen her breath. The least fattening option at the restaurant had been a lemon chicken breast, but it had been baked with garlic, and she didn’t want to breathe the fumes over everyone. Terry wouldn’t notice as he’d had the Kiev, but Luke and Liam had both enthused about the plain Shepherd’s Pie. Jude and Kat had apparently shared a pizza and pasta between them.

  Mel had tried to impress, suggesting they share a bottle of wine. Terry objected subtly, not wanting to draw attention to their age. Surprisingly, Ray backed him up. She’d sulked then, finding fault with all of the specials until Ray talked her round, offering to swap if his meal tasted better than hers. She monopolised him for the rest of the meal, insisting on feeding him bits of burger and chips off her fork as though they’d been going out for ages.

  Liv’s musings were interrupted as the safety curtain went up. The stage sloped up at an alarmingly steep angle from front to back. Mostly bare, it sported a few loops of semi-transparent material hung from the ceiling and a couple of pillars with drawings of furniture, all rich golds and purples.

  “Colin says this one’s a nightmare to stage; there are sixteen scene changes and six different sets.” Terry’s voice sounded low and attractive. “They’ve gone for a minimalist approach so the constant set changes don’t distract.”

  “I think it’s supposed to be the Duke’s palace.”

  “Yeah, what’s the betting they simply re-use bits of it for Olivia’s house?”

  The blast of icy air coming off the stage had a number of females, including Jude and Kat, shrugging on the coats they’d taken off when they sat. The lights dimmed as a group of strolling musicians walked round the stage playing period music on old-fashioned instruments. As more men walked on, a commanding figure spoke. “If music be the food of love, play on. Give me excess of it ...”

  Liv sat, enthralled as the story unfolded. The girl playing Viola was wicked and bouncy, with dark, curly hair which she put up under a cap when she became Cesario. Liv enjoyed the chemistry between her and the sultry Duke and the riotous scenes with the two lords. She stared at Olivia, who was Kat’s double: tall and slim with light brown hair piled on top of her head.

  As Terry predicted, the pillars turned to reveal different pictures for each location and the material along the ceiling was lit in a suitable colour.

  “Now that’s the sort of voice I wish I had.” Terry nodded at Feste as he sang the mournful song for the Duke.

  “Yours is every bit as good, and you made up your own tune,” Liv whispered back loyally.

  At the bit where Viola declared she was “all the daughters of her father’s house,” Liv caught Ray staring at her with a knowing grin.

  Suddenly,she heard Miss Broussard’s voice reading out the note in the French class. “Call that acting? Looks like LT fancies the pants off the cripple.” The woman had stopped in disgust at that point, but Jude had read out the rest later on;it was something like “Shame he can’t stand the blob.” Several cogs in Liv’s brain whirled together and connected. Of course. That’s why he was so keen on making sure she knew what the note said. He was trying to let her down lightly without actually saying the words himself. And she’d been acting like a lovesick fool around him when all the time he merely felt sorry for her.

  Now he was totally smitten with Mel. They seemed to be joined, not quite at the hip, but he’d certainly made no complaints when she sat next to him. And monopolised his attention. What chance did Liv stand against her sultry vivacity?

  As Malvolio hammed it up, all she could see was Ray saying those lines. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? He didn’t want to know. She should just get over it.

  The curtain went down to thunderous applause. Luke and Terry collected the ice-cream orders and went to stand in the queue at the front. Liv asked for a water ice – virtually no fat – then went in search of the toilets. When she came back, Terry sat alone while the others chatted with Ray and Mel. It wouldn’t be fair to leave him on his own, so she stayed
, nibbling the sorbet.

  Terry finished his choc ice. “Penny for them.”

  “My thoughts? They’re worth a lot more than that. NOT!! I was thinking how easy they make it. When we read the lines it’s like a foreign language, but when they do it, it’s totally obvious what they’re saying.”

  “Only because a director has delved into the meaning. Not to mention the months of rehearsing to get it that good. Anyway, you did really well as I remember. You even got up in front of the class.”

  “Ahhh, don’t remind me.”

  “Aha, what’s this? You two been up to things you don’t want reminding of? That’s bad news after only two dates.” Luke plonked down next to Liv.

  “No, I was talking about ...”

  “Spare me the details; I’ll only get jealous.”

  The others came back as the safety curtain raised.

  “Where did you get to, Liv?” Jude’s expression held an unspoken, “everything ok?”

  Liv nodded. “Long queue for the loo. Why?”

  “TMI. Ray wanted to ask you something about the play. He thought they may have chopped some lines or a speech or something.”

  “That happens quite often.” Terry spoke with confident authority. “Colin told me if it doesn’t add anything to the plot or characterisation, they’ll cut it out. Otherwise some of the plays would go on for hours.”

  “Thank goodness, my bum was starting to go numb just before the interval.” Jude wriggled in her seat.

  “You should have said. I’d have rubbed it better for you.”

  “In your dreams, Luke Harper.”

  “You always are.”

  The lights dimmed before she could reply, and they were all chuckling as the action resumed in Olivia’s garden. As the story’s sub-plots unfolded, Liv got caught up in the magic of it all, putting aside her own problems to enjoy the reluctant adversaries, mistaken identities and humiliation of Malvolio.

  Act five gave the resolution of all the tangled threads and the love-torn couples rearranged themselves to everyone’s satisfaction. Feste had the last word, singing one of his sad sweet songs. For although he played the fool for money, he was the wisest of all; the rest of them did it for nothing.