11
Opening Night
‘Stand by, everyone!’ called Eddie, the young but experienced stage manager. His voice could carry for miles in the theatre if necessary and there was a certain tone to it that made you wary of ever crossing him. However, he always had kind words to say,a gentle way about him and the safety of the company always came first. It therefore made him exactly the type of man Hamish Boatwright hated: incorruptible. When Hamish had heard that Edward Maynard was the best, he had hired him without a moment’s thought. It was only when Hamish began to suggest outlandish ideas for the production, such as some members of the cast should be rigged to fly, or thatsomeone should swing from the dress circle to the stage in the bar brawl scene, that Hamish realised that Eddie wasn’t going to let him have the show he wanted. The only stunt Eddie did allow Hamish to have was a gunshot and that was only because Eddie knew a good props man who would provide that special effect for every show on the cheap.
Fawn stood in her opening position at a silvermicrophone on a raised platform centre stage. Bar stools and tables were dotted around her where some of the cast were seated, sipping drinks, whilst others were on their feet ready to dance as the curtain rose. Although this was only the dress rehearsal, Fawn could feel the sweat trickling down the small of her back and was hoping it hadn’t created a darker patch on the back of her opening dress.Once the opening of the show was out of the way, Fawn knew she would be able to relax and then start flexing her dramatic muscles and hopefully impress the audience into reviewing her kindly. Fawn longed for a day when she was given a role, not because of her daddy and his money and status, but because she was actually, undeniablygood. She also longed to be cut from Hamish’s invisible puppetstrings that he continuously tugged.
‘Fawn!’ She heard her name called in a loud whisper and her already humming heart chirruped in her chest.
‘Stage left!’ Fawn scanned the cast and could just make out a waving hand in the dark in the downstage left wing. Walter. ‘Break a leg!’ he said and although he was mostly hidden by the black cloths draped over the wing, she could hear thesheepishness in his voice. She wondered how many times her stomach was able to tie itself in knots before she was no longer able to function. She smiled, but knew it wasn’t quite enough to convey her apologies and quickly blew him a kiss before a hush fell over the cast. The curtain rose, the actor–muso behind her tinkled the ivories and Fawn took a breath… and sang.
The time for bowingfinally arrived although the only people there to applaud were the lighting men in the gods who had already seen every scene a thousand times over. Fawn felt a huge sense of accomplishment wash over her and biting back tears proved much harder than she had expected. She caught eyes with Lawrence, the actor who played Lars, her romantic lead, and although usually quite stoic and someone who kept himselfto himself, he laughed and squeezed her hand in the line-up for the bows a little harder than she was used to. Aside from a minor hiccup in the second act where Hamish had slipped on the train of Fawn’s dress and fallen over, which was the cast’s first challenge in corpsing, the run had gone better than they could have hoped. Even the single stunt that closed the show, in which Lars pulls thetrigger of a gun and fires a hollow wax bullet and the lights black out, went without a hitch. Smiles were exchanged with the cast as they bowed together in unison and a shared sense of readiness for the night ahead filled the stage in a muggy fog that radiated from their sweaty skin. As soon as the curtain hit the floor, they whooped and cheered until…
‘That was a DISASTER. Why are youcheering? Have you no pride? No dignity? No integrity?’
‘Hamish…’ Lawrence put a hand on Hamish’s shoulder but despite being almost twice his height and half his age, Lawrence let Hamish shrug him off in a fit of rage.
‘Whatwasthat, Fawn? Your father’s money wasn’t worth the damp rag you’re impersonating.’
‘I… I’m —’
Hamish gripped her shoulders and shook her violentlyand this time it didn’t seem to matter who was watching.
‘You’re what? You’re sorry, maybe? Apologies just won’t cut it! You’re going to make me a laughing stock!’
‘HAMISH!’ Lawrence shouted, stepping in once more and grabbing Hamish by the shoulders – but he wasn’t quite quick enough. Hamish raised his hand and brought the back of it down hard on Fawn’s cheek, sending her to thefloor with an agonising thud. Some of the girls gasped and took shelter in the wings but Fawn was quick to be back on her feet, even if she did have to hold her cheek to try and stop the sting.
‘It’s a shame you didn’t like my performance, Mr Boatwright,’ Fawn said, looking him right in the eye. Then she took her hand away from her face, recomposed herself before leaning close to Hamish’sear so that her words were heard only by him, ‘but at least I managed to stay on my feet.’ Then, with a swish of the train of her dress, Fawn vanished into the wings before letting the pain in her cheek bring forth a flurry of tears that rolled down her face and neck. She walked with a steady click-clack up the steps back to her dressing room. The desire to be alone became steadily more urgentas the golden number four on her door came into sight. Once inside, she fumbled behind her back for the lock on the door and twirled it with shaking fingers until she heard it ‘thunk’ and she knew she would be left entirely alone. Then she covered her mouth with her hand and brought forth a sob, so full of hopelessness and despair that it almost darkened the room. The pain in her cheek was intenseand the marks on her wrist still purple and tender, another part of her body aching and marked by the hands of the same man. She took several deep breaths to steady her nerves and her anger and through her cascading tears she spotted something out of the ordinary on her dressing table.
Fawn walked to her desk upon which sat a champagne bucket from front of house, with a clean cloth parcelinside. When she lifted it, she could hear the satisfying jostle of ice cubes. Gratefully, she pressed the cloth parcel to the space between her right eye and cheek and revelled in the cooling numbness it brought her. Tucked underneath the ice bucket was a little folded piece of paper which she wiggled free and opened with her unoccupied hand.
Please meet me tonight?
Take the ladder on stage left to the fly floor.
When the curtain falls.
W.
Although Hamish had caused such an uproar, no extra rehearsals had been called before they opened that evening. Fawn wondered whether guilt had made Hamish rethink his words and his actions but most likely she figuredthere was some law somewhere that stated actors are entitled to a dinner break.
The ladder was shaky at the best of times when she’d seen other people climb its steel frame, but underneath her silver heels it felt like it would shudder and collapse at any moment. Nevertheless, Fawn climbed one rung at a time, one cautious, quiet step after another. She’d hidden in the downstage quick-changeuntil everyone had filtered off stage and through the double doors in a cacophony of congratulations. The show had gone without a hitch, and once silence had fallen over the stage and the props had been put back in their places, the set made ready for the following day, Fawn, with only excitement in her bones, climbed to the fly floor above the stage.
Walter had watched the curtain callfrom the rafters, eager to see Fawn, to apologise for pressuring her when he should have been more understanding. Every minute that passed was another moment of doubt.Maybe she’s not coming, he thought and sighed, leaning over one of the cold metal railings, the stage now so dark that it looked like there was nothing below him except a dark, black endless hole.
‘Don’t lean over too far,’Fawn said and Walter’s head whipped up to look at her, still in costume and as elegant as always. ‘No one wants another theatre ghost.’ She gave him a little smile, but it was brief and looked like it caused her pain.
‘I didn’t hear you climb up,’ said Walter.
‘I’m not surprised. You were so lost in thought.’ She stepped closer but one of her heels wobbled in the grated metal walkway,so Walter walked slowly over to her, one step at a time. ‘What’s on your mind?’
‘You,’ he said without a moment’s hesitation. Embarrassment didn’t flood him, and regret didn’t immediately set in. In fact, the relief of being unashamedly honest squeezed his heart and as it did so, more words oozed through his veins, up his throat and out of his mouth. ‘Fawn, I’m so sorry. I never shouldhave pushed you into answering my questions. I should have left you to tell me what you wanted to tell me in your own time. If you want to tell me anything at all.’ The fly floor was high up in the theatre and Walter steadied himself on the metal railing which was cool against his sweaty palms.
‘I do.’
‘You do?’ He took another step towards her.
‘I do want to tell you something.’Fawn leant forwards, silently wishing for Walter to be closer, even just a little.
