7
Reawakening
Olive scrubbed at her eyes with a half used baby wipe, making them even more sore from crying. She couldn’t believe how foolish she’d been. She had told herself not to get too invested; had warned herself that any kind of relationship with Oscar would be complicated.She had berated herself when she knew her feelings towards him were growing, and she’d held back when she wanted to tell him all the things she’d love to hear had he said them to her.
‘At least you know now,’ she said to herself. A single bulb around her dressing room mirror flickered twice. Olive switched the lights on and off again, hoping that old trick would sort it out, except whenshe turned them off again the bulb that had flickered was now on… even though she’d switched them off at the mains.
‘Weird,’ she whispered. She switched the lights back on and the singular bulb turned off again. ‘What the hell?’ Olive muttered and reached up to give the bulb a twist, thinking there was some loose wiring which could be fixed with a jiggle, but before her hand could eventouch the bulb, it shattered into pieces. She retracted her hand quickly with a yelp as the pieces of glass scattered over her dressing table.
‘Okay, time to go,’ she said to the empty room, her heart beating wildly in her throat. In one swift movement, she grabbed her coat and her bag and ran out the door. She quickly turned the key in the lock and relished the feeling of being distractedfrom her boy troubles, even if it was due to being well and truly spooked.
‘Here’s my key,’ she said as she put it through the little hatch where Walter sat on the other side.
‘You’re late tonight, Miss Green,’ Walter said, hanging her key on its hook.
‘It’s Olive, please.’ She tried to smile but it felt stiff and odd. ‘And yeah. Didn’t feel like going home straight afterrehearsals.’
‘Everything all right?’ Walter asked.
‘Yeah, yeah. Just got some admin done. Taxes. That kind of thing,’ she lied.
‘Well, if you need anything, just let me know.’
‘Actually, now that you mention it, one of my bulbs has gone on my dressing room mirror.’
‘It probably just needs a jiggle.’
‘Actually, that’s the thing. I did try that but the bulbsort of… exploded.’
‘Oh,’ Walter said, and Olive couldn’t help but notice that he looked oddly worried. ‘Right.’
‘Gave me quite a fright!’ Olive tried to laugh but it sounded forced even to her own ears.
‘Well, no worries. I’ll get it replaced as soon as possible.’ Walter noted it down on the pad in front of him that already listed a couple of other odd jobs here and therearound the theatre.
‘Thank you, Walter.’
‘Careful out there,’ Walter called as Olive pushed open the stage door which almost got pulled out of her hand by a fierce gust of wind. ‘Weather’s looking grim.’
‘Just my luck,’ she said, putting down her rucksack and shrugging on her hoodless coat. ‘See you Monday, Walter.’ She swung her rucksack back into place, huddled her neckin her coat’s collar and stepped out into the rain, closing the door behind her.
Directly opposite stage door was a bar that always seemed to be bursting with people and buzzing with music and chatter no matter the time of day. Howard stood outside, a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other. He looked up and saw her but didn’t smile. She gave him a slight wave, adjusting her heavybag on her back and doing up the wooden toggles on the front of her grey coat. Howard returned the wave with his phone but glanced behind him through the window of the pub. When he looked back at her, his face was drained of colour and expression.
‘What’s up?’ she shouted as she ran across the street, her boots splashing through the big puddle that had collected outside the bar.
‘You’ve been in the theatre for ages. We all thought you’d gone home,’ Howard replied, almost nervously.
‘Just had some stuff to do.’
‘Are you staying for a drink?’ Howard took a large step to his left, blocking the entrance to the pub.
‘I don’t think so… why?’ she said, glancing behind his shoulder, but he took another step in front of her.
‘I just… I don’t think it’sa good idea you go inside.’
‘What? Why?’
Just then Doug burst through the door, his beer sloshing over the side of the glass as he slammed it down on the large windowsill.
