They knocked on the door and Mimi called out to come in.
‘You don’t mind, Andrea, Orla?’ Aoife asked, sticking her head around the door.
‘No, not at all, come in,’ Andrea waved them inside. ‘Make yourselves at home.’
Thisisour home, Sive thought, irked by Andrea’s attitude. She really was a very annoying woman – no wonder Mimi hadn’t taken to her. But she was a talented actress, in fairness, and she’d been great in the show, so Sive couldn’t resent her too much.
The cramped room was a hive of activity, and there was a buzz of electricity in the air. Sive felt a rush as soon as she entered and breathed in the slightly fusty air, its aromas of greasepaint and old fabric mingled with the heady scent of lilies calling to her soul. It was a sense of exhilaration coupled with the relief of being where you truly belonged. She’d missed all this and she couldn’t wait to be part of it again.
The room was full of flowers, vast bouquets covering every surface. ‘Wow, it’s like a florist’s in here,’ she said.
She and Aoife rushed over to Mimi, enveloping her in hugs and telling her how brilliant her performance was.
‘You were great too,’ Aoife said to Andrea and Orla.
‘Yes,’ Sive said. ‘Congratulations, all of you.’
‘Thanks,’ Andrea said, pulling off her earrings. ‘So, all back to Rocco’s now, yes?’
‘Yes,’ Mimi said. ‘Is Jonathan here?’ she asked Aoife.
‘He has the car outside and he’ll take the three of us and Rocco,’ Aoife told her.
‘What about Sam?’
‘He’s going to get a cab with Mitch,’ Sive told her.
‘Great. Just let me get changed and I’ll be right with you.’ She turned her back to Sive. ‘Help me with my zip?’
Mimi was wearing the travelling suit from Act Three, and Sive automatically ran her eye over it as she undid the zip, checking for damage. As the unofficial wardrobe mistress of Halfpenny Lane, the upkeep of costumes was her responsibility. She’d found this thirties skirt suit in a favourite vintage shop, and it would make a great addition to their growing stock.Her hope was that they’d build up a good enough collection to eventually start renting costumes to other theatres as an additional source of income. She was pleased to see that Orla was already removing her French maid’s uniform and folding each item neatly.
‘When you’ve taken off your costumes, just hang them up on the rail over there,’ she nodded across the room. She’d be back at the theatre tomorrow helping to strike the set, and she’d collect the costumes then and take them home to get them cleaned and do any repairs necessary.
‘You can just leave everything here, apart from anything that belongs to you,’ Sive said, sweeping a hand around the dressing room, strewn with stray props, cards and gift bags. ‘We can clear up properly tomorrow.’
‘I’m afraid I got pollen all over this jacket,’ Andrea said, making a little apologetic moue as she handed it to Sive for inspection. The front was indeed covered in a dusting of yellow powder.
Mimi rolled her eyes surreptitiously at Sive.
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Sive said, deciding not to ruin the moment by giving Andrea a hard time about it. She was feeling magnanimous. ‘I’m sure I can get it out. But in future, try to remember not to hold flowers too close. Other wardrobe mistresses might not be as understanding as me.’
‘Well, we’ll leave you to get changed,’ Aoife said as Mimi unbuttoned her blouse. ‘We’ll meet you out front.’
‘Could you take some of those?’ Mimi nodded to the bouquets of flowers.
‘Sure.’ Aoife started gathering up armfuls of flowers from around Mimi’s dressing table, and Sive picked up as many bouquets as she could hold, careful to read the cards first and leave any that belonged to Andrea and Orla.
‘Thanks. I’ll bring down the rest,’ Mimi said, sitting at the dressing table to remove her make-up.
‘Take your time,’ Aoife said.
‘See you shortly,’ Sive called as they left the room.
Outside, they loaded the boot of Jonathan’s car with flowers, and Mimi joined them shortly afterwards bearing more, the car filling with their perfume as she squeezed in beside Sive and Rocco.
‘I feel like I’m driving a hearse,’ Jonathan said as he pulled into the Saturday night traffic and crawled slowly down the narrow lane.
Rocco’s house was already buzzing with activity when they arrived. His sisters were laying out trays of canapes in the living room, and his parents were in the kitchen opening bottles of champagne and filling large stainless steel buckets with ice.
