Act One
Charlotte’s ten-minute cue jolted her from her thoughts. She’d been hiding behind one of the large stone pillars, going over her lines, listening to the others on stage, and trying to quash the overwhelming desire to jump in her car and head back to London. But it was too late. People were relying on her. She needed to dig deep, focus, and adopt the role of ‘woodland nymph’.
Grabbing her green-velvet tunic and shorts, she dived for the loos, cursing herself for leaving it so late to finish dressing. As reluctant as she was to appear in public wearing what could only be described as ‘hot pants’, she now wore the once dreaded items with much more enthusiasm than she could ever have imagined. Along with the green face paint, and orange feathers threaded into her backcombed hair, they acted as a shield, a mask to hide behind so no one would recognise her. Not that she was likely to know anyone in the audience, but remaining anonymous certainly helped to calm the trembles. A bit, anyway.
With shaking hands, she fastened her shorts over her bottle-green tights, and slid her feet into her plimsolls, which were still damp from being spray-painted green.
Throwing open the loo door, she almost ran smack into Barney.
‘There you are.’ He reached out to steady her. ‘You had me worried, I thought you’d done a runner.’
‘Tempting, but no. I was getting changed. How’s it going out there?’
‘Good. Only a couple of minor mishaps. Nothing the audience would’ve noticed.’ And then he spotted her shorts. ‘Whoa, nice fit.’
Her hand tugged self-consciously on the hem. ‘I feel like a mouldy Kylie Minogue.’
‘Well, you’ve got me spinning around.’ He grimaced at his own joke. ‘You look hot.’
So did he. His midriff was on show beneath his red-velour tunic, a flash of gold paint highlighting his stomach muscles. She refrained from telling him as much. He didn’t need any encouragement.
He was still checking her out. ‘Turn around.’
‘Stop perving.’
‘I’m not perving, I’m appreciating.’ His smile was disarming.
She shook her head. He had an answer for everything. ‘No time. We’re on stage soon.’
The SM appeared from the wings. ‘Puck, we need you in your starting position.’
‘See? We need to go.’ She made to leave.
He caught her arm. ‘Ready to do this?’
She shrugged. ‘Whether I am or not, there’s no turning back.’
He kissed the back of her green hand. ‘Break a leg.’
‘You theatre types are a strange bunch. Break a leg, indeed.’ She moved away from him. ‘See you on stage … And stop staring at my backside.’
‘I can’t help it,’ he called after her. ‘It’s hypnotic.’
She made her way through the props area, which currently housed various items, including the makeshift wall she’d made for the play-within-a-play. The wings were equally precarious – dimly lit, a minefield of ropes and scenery.
Standing at the side, ready to go on stage, were her niece and nephew. Flo was playing the part of Cobweb, one of the fairies. She looked so cute in her floaty white dress, which was covered in large pastel-coloured petals, and net wings. Her hair was adorned with flowers sprayed with glitter. She was holding an ornate wand. Freddie was dressed as a mini Oberon, having jumped at the chance to upgrade his part and wear the same outfit as Barney.
Charlotte made her way over to them. ‘You okay?’ she whispered.
Flo nodded. ‘Excited.’
‘I need a pee.’ Freddie’s voice was a little too loud, causing the SM to shush him.
Charlotte patted his shoulder. ‘Me too. I think it’s nerves. How’s your mum doing?’
Flo pointed to the stage. ‘She’s amazing. Uncle Paul forgot a line, but she whispered it to him, so it was okay.’
Charlotte looked through the gap in the wings. Lauren did indeed look amazing. She was animated, beautiful and confident, which just proved what a good actress she was. Off stage, she was anything but. Whatever was going on, it had reached crisis point. Charlotte couldn’t stand back any longer and watch Lauren deteriorate. Whether her sister liked it or not, she was going to confront her and insist Lauren confess all.
The SM appeared next to Charlotte. ‘Time to climb into the tree house, Puck.’
This was the bit she dreaded. Well, that and jumping off it, but that was the next act, so she had a while to steel herself.
Giving Freddie and Flo a quick thumbs up, she followed the SM through the obstacle course of props, and accepted the offer of a leg-up onto the scaffolding. It was easier to deal with her aversion to heights if she closed her eyes, so she shut them tightly as she climbed up. With a firm shove from behind, she landed in the cramped wooden tree house, her home for the next few minutes. The matting beneath her was scratchy, making it hard to lie still. She tried to settle, allowing her eyes time to adjust to the darkness.
Against a backdrop of crashing waves, and the actors projecting their lines on stage, she could hear murmured voices emanating from the audience.
Lauren and Paul finished their scene. It was now the turn of the Mechanicals, meeting to rehearse their play for the Duke of Athens. Her dad appeared, dressed in workmen’s attire, complete with leather apron, in his role of Bottom, the weaver. His first line was a little shaky, but he soon warmed up as the audience began laughing at the players’ shenanigans.
As Charlotte watched him, it struck her just how far her dad had come. When he’d sunk into a depression after their mum had died, no way would he have been able to act in a play. But look at him now, speaking to the audience, making them laugh with his comic timing. He was a different man. It brought a lump to her throat.
Great as it was to see her dad’s recovery, it wasn’t enough to eradicate the nerves itching beneath her skin, making her feel like her bladder was full and her mouth was dry. No amount of rehearsal had improved the trepidation of launching herself off six feet of scaffolding. Whether it was jumping off the ledge while attached to the harness, or merely climbing down the ladder onto the stage for her other entrances, her fear of heights still hampered her. She’d tried to ‘speed up’ as Barney had requested, but with shaking hands, wobbly legs, and a feeling of encroaching nausea, it was hard to do anything other than descend at a snail’s pace. Hardly ‘sprite-like’.
The scene below drew to a close. No going back now.
God, she needed a pee.
As the Mechanicals exited the stage, and the fairy music started, all she could envisage was the horror of her shorts catching on the ladder rungs and being catapulted into the audience. Oh, well, it would be one way of making a dramatic entrance.
She edged closer to the opening, trying not to make too much noise, and watched as Flo sprang onto the set to begin her ballet sequence.
This really was it. Why had she agreed to do this? Was she out of her mind?
Flo leaped across the stage and twirled, giving Charlotte her cue to appear.
She was in such a state of anxiety about descending the ladder too slowly that she simply closed her eyes and hurled herself from the planking. It was therefore something of a relief that she landed, with the precision of a highly trained parachutist, on the target marked X. The shock of successfully arriving on stage at the right time, and in the right place, momentarily threw her. She nearly forgot what to do next.
Thank God that Flo was concentrating. Her niece sprang into action, dancing up to her and giving her a gentle prod with her wand.
Right, her opening line. What was it again …?
Flo mouthed, how now spirit.
Oh, yes. ‘“How now, spirit. Whither wander you?”’
Flo waved her wand in the air. ‘“Over hill, over dale, I do wander everywhere.”’ She hopped, she sang, and she charmed the audience, inviting collective oohs and ahhhs with her precocious cuteness. ‘“I must go seek some dewdrops here, and hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.”’ She twirled back to Charlotte. ‘“Farewell, thou lob of spirits. I’ll be gone. Our Queen and all her elves come here anon.”’
It was Charlotte’s turn.
With dangerously high levels of adrenaline, she raced through Puck’s opening lines, exhausting herself, and – she was sure – everyone watching. ‘“The King doth keep his revels here tonight. Take heed the Queen come not within his sight.”’
She whizzed around the stage like a hyperactive child on speed, trying to emulate a mythical being. By the end of the first paragraph, she was perspiring, knackered, and running out of air. Breathe, she told herself.
Flo looked slightly dazed by her auntie’s antics, but kept smiling, like the little pro she was.
Charlotte skipped across the stage as instructed. ‘“I am that merry wanderer of the night.”’ She made the mistake of looking at the audience. There were so many of them, filling the rows of seating, all looking at her expectantly. She forced her head up, aiming her words at the darkening sky. It was an impressive sight: dark blue, streaked with smudges of red and pink. No time for sightseeing. Concentrate.
‘“Neighing in likeness of a filly foal.”’ She trotted on the spot, her playful neigh sounding more like an injured sheep. Belatedly, she remembered she was supposed to be entertaining the fairy and darted over. ‘“The wisest aunt telling the saddest tale.”’
Flo giggled, no doubt as a result of her aunt’s poor acting skills, rather than because she was genuinely funny, but either way Charlotte was glad to be nearing the end.
‘“… Then slip I from her bum. Down topples she …”’ As had been carefully choreographed, she toppled down and rolled over on the floor, with the aim of springing back up on, ‘“And then the whole choir hold their hips and laugh.”’ But as her knee gave way at the crucial moment, she stayed where she was.
Unperturbed by her auntie’s continued kneeling position, Flo tapped her with her wand before elegantly pirouetting off stage. ‘“Good friends. Would that he were gone!”’
Charlotte remained firmly rooted to the spot, a fear of falling flat on her face preventing her from moving.
Thankfully, Barney came to her rescue, striding across the stage and hauling her up off the floor. ‘“Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania!”’
She’d thank him later.
He turned to address Sylvia, who’d made a nervous entrance, her long gown catching under her feet, making a few people in the audience snigger.
Freddie copied Barney’s regal stance, thrusting his little chest out. Barney placed a hand on his sidekick’s shoulder, guiding him to face the audience.
It was nice how he looked out for the kids. Protected them. He was a good man, trustworthy … and not what she’d first thought when she’d arrived in Penmullion.
She felt a twinge in her chest.
Deciding that she must have pulled a muscle launching herself from the scaffolding, she slunk behind the fairy throne and remained there for the rest of the scene.
It was safer that way.