‘We’re going to the pub, if you’d like to join?’ Sam said to her.
‘Oh.’ Chloe looked to Sive, then glanced at the group of actors walking on ahead. ‘That would be lovely, but I don’t want to intrude.’
‘You won’t be,’ Sive told her. ‘The more the merrier.’ It occurred to her that Chloe’s work life was quite solitary. She had an assistant, but Leah was a lot younger than Chloe and she didn’t imagine they socialised much.
‘And it’s not all theatre folk,’ Sam said. ‘There are some civilians too.’ He nodded to the Tiny Tim chaperones, who were walking side by side. The three women seemed to have bonded quickly.
‘Besides, there’s something I want to talk to you about,’ Sive said.
‘Ooh, sounds intriguing. Well, I could do with a drink. Thanks.’ Chloe finished locking the door and pulled down the shutter. ‘I can only stay for one, though. I promised to call over to a friend later to help her put some furniture together.’ She pocketed the keys and zipped up her jacket, burying her chin in the collar.
‘So is this a special occasion?’ she asked as they walked. ‘Or just after-work drinks?’
‘Just after-work drinks, really,’ Sive told her. ‘And sort of a first day celebration, I suppose.’
‘How did you find your first table read?’ Chloe asked Sam.
‘It was brilliant.’ Sam grinned. ‘The most fun I’ve had since…’ He paused, frowning. ‘Maybe ever.’
‘It’s going to be a really fun show,’ Sive said.
‘I can’t wait to see it.’
There was a celebratory atmosphere in the pub, everyone on a high with the excitement of starting a new show and looking forward to getting stuck into rehearsals.
‘It went well, then?’ Chloe asked when the three of them were seated with drinks.
‘I think so.’ Sam looked to Sive. ‘I don’t think I let the side down, did I?’
‘Of course not. You were great.’ Even though he sounded confident, she heard an undercurrent of insecurity underpinning his words.
‘Well, that’s a relief because I’m not giving it up now, not even if I stink the place out every night.’
Sive laughed. ‘As if you’d have a say in the matter. If you were stinking the place out, we’d fire you like that,’ she said, snapping her fingers.
Sam shook his head. ‘Never get involved in show business, Chloe. It’s a cut-throat world. Theatre folk come across all sweetness and light, but they’re ruthless.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Chloe said. ‘There’s no way I’d ever set foot on a stage. I don’t know how you guys have the nerve to do what you do. Serving customers is all the public performance I can cope with. I find that enough of a strain. I’m happiest tucked away in the kitchen by myself, baking and dreaming up new recipes.’
‘That’s what I want to discuss with you,’ Sive said to her. ‘The show is going to be an immersive experience, with lots of audience interaction. In the interval the audience can come up on stage and we’ll have some actors playing street vendors serving them food and drink.’
‘Sounds great!’
‘So we were going to ask you if you’d be interested in supplying the food for that?’
Chloe’s eyes widened dramatically. ‘Gosh! Really?’
‘We’ll discuss it more formally with you, of course, and hammer out the details. But unofficially, would you be interested?’
‘Would I?’ Chloe beamed. ‘I’d love to!’
‘Yay!’ Sive clapped her hands.
‘What sort of food were you thinking? I’m assuming pastries, and nothing too messy.’
‘We’re planning to keep it simple – just mince pies, with gluten-free and vegan options. What do you think?’
‘I could do a traditional Victorian mince pie with actual meat? I’ll do some research into what they’d have had in Dickens’ time.’
