‘Right, you sit down here,’ Jessie pointed to the seat that Senga had just vacated, ‘…and let’s get you beautified.’
Fifteen minutes later, she held up a mirror and Ginny barely recognised herself. Jessie had redone her hair, Georgie had worked wonders with make-up, and she no longer looked like she’d shared a washing facility with a motor vehicle.
There wasn’t enough time to revel in the glory. ‘You’ve got about half an hour until showtime. Go and knock them dead, love,’ Jessie told her, shooing her out of the room.
Ginny rushed into the staffroom and threw on her dress, but by the time she got to the front door of the Academy, she was about to change her mind. What was she thinking? Why did she possibly consider that she belonged out here? Especially as she could see that, over to her left, Caden was with a few of the other invited celebrities and working the press pack like a pro. She caught soundbites from his conversation as he told Bryony Browne, that influencer who did all the manifestation stuff, that he was only here to support Ollie as a friend. ‘We’ve actually been mates for a long time and I really believe in what he’s doing here. I’m very proud to contribute.’
The Glasgow acting community was a tight-knit one, so she hadn’t been surprised when she’d got the job here and Caden had shared that he and Ollie knew each other, going right back to their teenage years. Unlike Ollie, who was happy to admit that he came from these parts, Caden preferred to infer in press interviews that he hailed from the posher side of this area.
She watched as Caden caught her eye, registered her presence and then called her over.
Hang on. No, she hadn’t processed that properly. What had actually happened was that he’d caught her eye, registered her presence and blanked her. Actually fricking blanked her – too busy laying the charm on with Bryony bloody Brown.
Instead, she realised, the call of her name had come from Ollie, who was beckoning her towards the press pack that surrounded him. ‘Guys, I want you all to meet Ginny Canavan and I advise you to take as many photos of her as you can because she’s one of our coaches, a phenomenal actress and singer, and trust me, you’re going to be begging her for interviews one day.’
Ginny could have landed a huge smacker of thanks on his cheek, but the flashes were already going off as Ollie posed with her, letting the press get their shots. They fired some questions at her too, and she was happy to answer them, with Ollie, A-list megastar, operating as her wingman. Ginny had never loved him more – and she’d be on the phone to Stevie as soon as this was done, pointing out that her pal had got herself the most decent man who ever lived. Unlike her own boyfriend, who was currently still schmoozing influencers and ignoring her.
‘Right, people, sorry to break up the party, but it’s time to move inside.’ That came from Sandra, who was brandishing her clipboard in their direction.
It said a lot that every member of Academy staff, including Moira, Ollie and Calvin, immediately did as she commanded, wrapping up their interviews and moving through the grand front doors of the old church building. Due to the camera crews, the press representatives and the Health and Safety around all the wiring at the red carpet, the non-celebrity attendees, students and their families had been requested to enter via a side door, so Ginny knew that the theatre would already have filled up. Alyssa had texted to say that her and grandad were inside and sitting with Jessie and Georgie. That’s why, when her phone rang in her bag, she ducked into an alcove, thinking it must be Stevie, the only one of her chums that wasn’t currently here.
‘Hey…’ she said, without even checking the screen.
‘Hi, Ginny, this is Carl Boddins. Have you got a moment to speak?’
Shit, not Stevie. Her heart began to race like someone had just given her a shot of pure adrenaline – and she also wondered if anyone ever said ‘no, Mr Boddins, director of some of the most significant musicals in theatre history, I’m afraid I do not have time to speak to you.’
She wasn’t going to be the first.
‘Erm, yes! Of course! Lots of minutes. To speak. Loads of them.’ She might, however, be the first to stutter over her words like a fool. She slapped her hand to her forehead, hoping the pain would make her stop talking.
‘Thank you for auditioning for us today. We did say that we would let you know as quickly as possible…’
You did. Yes, you did.
Bugger! Did she say that out loud? No. It was her inside voice. Don’t speak.
‘The panel had a discussion after you left, and we’ve decided…’
What? What have you decided?
‘We’ve decided that…’
Pause.
A longer pause.
Still silent.
That’s when she took the phone away from her ear, checked the screen and realised that her mobile had died in the middle of the most important call of her life.
Bugger.
‘Five minutes to showtime,’ Sandra was shouting now, ushering the last of the stragglers into the auditorium.
A choice – go in now and watch the show. Or go and charge her phone and call Carl Boddins, but miss the show, because they would lock the doors due to filming.
The fact that she couldn’t even remember where her charger was made the decision for her.
