‘Oh, you’ve decided on parts, have you?’ Nick sat at the table and risked a glance at Kitty.
‘Yes.’ She avoided his glance. ‘Solly’s going to be narrator, Friar Lawrence and Lord Capulet. Jack’s going to be Tybalt, Paris, and the director. You’re obviously Romeo. I’m Juliet. That leaves Mercutio and the nurse.’
‘Which, unfortunately for everybody, including myself,’ said Sylvie, ‘is going to be me.’
‘Really?’ said Nick, his eyebrows raised. ‘I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with this performance.’
‘I haven’t been given a choice,’ said Sylvie. ‘Nobody else stepped forward, and Solly did a good job of twisting my arm.’ She gave Solly a mock glare. ‘Kitty has reassured me she’ll help me get to grips with what I’m doing. And you better hope for all our sakes I’m not as appalling an actress as I fear I might be.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Solly, with emphatic loyalty.
‘You’re a good sport, Sylvie.’ Nick smiled at his best friend’s grandmother. He’d known Sylvie all his life and didn’t doubt she could turn her hand to anything she chose.
‘Right,’ said Kitty, ‘we’ve all got scripts.’ She did a quick check, and Nick waved his script. ‘What I suggest now we have our roles, is to do a read-through. It won’t take long, it’s only three pages. This is very much a whistle-stop tour of the play. Once we’ve done that, we can decide what costumes we’ll need, what kind of set, and, most importantly, who we’re going to rope in to do those things.’
‘Oh,’ said Sylvie, ‘you won’t have any problem with that. As long as it doesn’t involve getting on that stage, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of willing volunteers.’
‘May has said she’d help with costumes,’ Nick said. ‘And Luke told me today at work he’s happy to build some sets for us.’
‘Great,’ said Kitty. ‘I reckon I could rope Sam into helping him paint them. She’s got a real artistic streak.’
‘So does her husband Steve,’ said Solly. ‘He’s a graphic designer as well as running that shop.’
‘Is he?’ Kitty beamed. ‘We’ll definitely get him on board. He can help design some posters, for starters.’
‘I’ve already asked him, and he’s designing as we speak,’ said Margot, walking through the door.
‘Are you fully recovered?’ Jack leaned away from Margot.
Nick grinned. The man obviously had no desire to catch her germs.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘A little weak, but almost normal. How are you getting on?’ She began dishing out the coffees she’d brought with her in a cardboard tray. ‘I thought you might need sustenance, and the instant coffee they have here is disgusting.’
‘Grateful, I’m sure,’ said Jack, willing to risk the germs for decent coffee.
‘We’re not getting on too badly,’ said Kitty. ‘We’ve assigned all the roles. We’ve come up with ideas for who can help with the additional things we need, and we’re about to start a read-through.’
‘Wonderful.’ Margot pulled a chair into the corner of the room. ‘I’ll be your audience.’
‘I don’t think we’re quite ready for an audience yet, Margot.’ Nick shrank into his chair. When he picked up the script, his hands shook so much he had to set it down. He smoothed a hand across the page, hoping no one had noticed his nerves.
‘I tweaked the script a little last night,’ said Kitty.
‘You’ve what?’ snapped Nick, sounding harsher than he meant. His heart pounded. What changes had she made? If she’d changed any of his lines, he was going to have to back out of this, and sharpish.
‘Nothing major,’ said Kitty, sounding miffed. ‘I’ve given the narrator a few extra lines here and there to set the scene better.’
Nick breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Maybe run any future changes past me, if that’s not too much trouble, please?’
‘No problem.’ Kitty’s tone was clipped.
Nick silently cursed himself. He knew he was coming across as rude and pedantic. But sometimes self-preservation trumped politeness.
The read-through went well, and Nick was relieved that at no point was he caught out. Solly and Jack shone, switching between roles with ease and delivering their lines with a comic timing that fitted the whistle-stop nature of the play.
After an hour and a half, everyone had had enough for the night, and Kitty called time.
‘Anyone fancy a drink?’ asked Nick, desperate to delay the moment he had to go home. ‘Thanks to Paige and her babysitting skills, I don’t have to get back just yet.’ He glanced at Kitty, but she shook her head.
