He held out his fingers, counting them off one by one. ‘Moby Dick,Treasure Island,20,000 Leagues under the Sea,Gulliver’s TravelsandThe Count of Monte Cristowere some of her favourites, and she often bemoaned the fact there weren’t more plucky young girls in these stories.’
He looked behind him again. Jodie, one of the seasoned actors, was resting a hand on Harriet’s shoulders, though the little girl looked even more spooked than before.
‘Louisa and I have tried to remedy this in tonight’s play, and we’ve got a fabulous cast ready to set things right.’ Spencer lowered the clipboard and cast one last sweeping look around the packed hall, catching Clem’s eye again. ‘We hope you enjoy the show.’
There wasn’t as much chatter from the audience as there had been after Louisa’s speech, which was fine by him. He’d only really been speaking to one beautiful woman, and he hoped she appreciated how hard it had been to say Belle’s name in front of all those people. But had it been enough? Would Clem understand how determined he was to be more open and honest with her in the future? Although talking about Belle, and honouring her memory so publicly, was the first of many difficult steps he was prepared to take, Spencer felt relieved to get out of the spotlight and into the wings.
‘You’ll be fantastic, Harri,’ he said, finding her beside the water cooler. ‘Remember what we said: you go out there and knock ’em dead with your loudest voice and most pirate-y swagger.’
Her little face was pale, and she cast another worried look at the stage as the first of the cast walked past to take their places behind the curtain. ‘I can’t go out there. It’ll be like school camp but worse.’
‘Indi’s out there, your rellies, Isobel, Sebastian and Pansy. My sister Addison is here too, and they’re all cheering you on. Everyone’s so proud of you giving it a shot,’ he said, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the tear that was tracking slowly through Harriet’s stage make-up.
‘They’ll think I’m stupid for being scared. I’ll never be middle school captain if I’m a scaredy cat.’
He looked up to see Louisa directing the cast, Ian prepping the mikes for the second scene and Mia fussing with costumes. The first act began, and Spencer glanced at his watch, knowing he had precious little time before their youngest cast member, the star of their show, was due on stage.
He willed himself to think fast, but as much as he tried, Spencer couldn’t conjure up a single story showcasing the bravery of bees, beagles or bold guinea pigs. He was clutching at straws when an idea finally hit him.
‘Did Louisa ever tell you about her farm back in Canada, when she was a little girl?’
Harriet shook her head.
‘Her parents used to get wolves and wild dogs at North Giddi Giddi, especially when the cows were calving. And you probably know this, but when cattle are scared, they get all skittish and run through fences. Nobody thought they were stupid for getting spooked, that’s just what happens when we’rescared. We think about the worst-case scenario, and focus on what could go wrong, instead of what might go right.’
‘And did the cows stop being scared of the wolves?’
Spencer bit his lip. ‘Well, not exactly.’ What was he doing? This was a terrible analogy. ‘Louisa’s parents bought a donkey, and the donkey protected the herd, kicking up a big fuss when the wolves or dogs came near, and braying until her dad came out with the shotgun.’
‘So are you saying I need a donkey? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Mum won’t even let me have a guinea pig. I don’t have a donkey tied up to the fence post outside.’
Spencer shook his head. ‘No, that’s not what I meant. Forget about the donkey, and the cows. What I’m trying to say is it’s okay to be scared, but you shouldn’t let it stop you,’ he said, discreetly glancing at his watch.
He had three minutes left. If he couldn’t get Harriet over the line, one of the other cast members was going to have to crawl around on stage pretending to be a cheeky, sassy young pirate girl.
He looked back at Jodie, the older lady grinning as she adjusted her wench’s costume so it revealed a little more cleavage than necessary. There was no way she’d look the part of a fearless stowaway girl who dispelled the myth that women were bad luck aboard a ship.
‘I’ll go on if you can be my donkey,’ Harriet said. ‘You can remind me of my lines.’
‘Donkeys don’t belong on ships, Harriet,’ Spencer pleaded, knowing his scope for reasoning was getting slimmer by the second.
‘Then I really can’t go on.’
He thought of the donkey head in the back of the storeroom. Ugh, for Pete’s sake, was this really necessary? He looked again at the tiny door between the backstage area and theworkshop. He’d never get the brown terry-towelling costume over his hips, but the headpiece was enormous …
‘Just for the very first scene, when everyone’s looking at me for the first time. I promise.’ When Spencer saw the look on Harriet’s face, he knew he didn’t have a choice.
Clem let out an anxious breath as Harriet walked on stage with a donkey plodding by her side.
How had she missed that? She’d spent hours helping Harriet rehearse. Had she really been so caught up in her own life that she’d missed any reference to a donkey? Was it a new addition? She leaned forward in her seat, recognising the dark denim jeans and striped shirt Spencer had been wearing earlier.
‘Is that Spencer?’ Hazel elbowed her in her side, letting out a snort of laughter. ‘And is she leading him by his tie? His knees will be killing him if he has to crawl around on those floorboards all night.’
Clem recognised Harriet’s first three shaky lines, but the next ones were completely new, as she asked her donkey’s opinion on a life adventuring at sea.
In the scenes Harriet had rehearsed over the school holidays, her character—a plucky waif who dreamed of being a pirate—was supposed to be pondering her big adventure while staring at her reflection in a large mirror. But tonight, up on stage, she was leaning close to the donkey, barely looking at the audience.
Was Spencer feeding her lines?
