The Boy I Love (17 page)

Sally and co arrived with apologies and the cast was complete.

Giles took the floor.

‘There are a couple of problems with
Lysistrata
and the chorus. We have some wonderfully strong voices already but we need to swell the numbers. I have two thoughts. First, is to
engage a couple more actresses from local sources if possible, and second, we pre-record the songs and then play the choral numbers on speakers from the wings to increase the volume. I would
appreciate any suggestions for the actresses and I have, in fact, already contacted the stage school to see if any of the teachers fancy a go.

‘The second point is to give you all a heads-up on the casting for
Hamlet
. We are very excited to be able to announce the arrival of Rupert Hallam who is making a name for himself
on the small screen in the very popular
Up at the Big House
which is in its second series, and I know he is going to do a wonderful job as Hamlet. Opposite him I have engaged another rising
star, Isabelle James, fresh from her first film, playing a part in a new Woody Allen movie, as yet untitled. I hope you will all make them most welcome. With regards to the rest of the casting, I
would like to see Jeremy, Simon and Peter tomorrow lunchtime, and can you all be prepared to read different scenes and different parts for me, please? Right, that is housekeeping over, now
let’s get back to good old Sir Thomas, shall we?’

The boys all went off to a corner to discuss their chances, and Jeremy found his way to Robert who had been standing behind Giles throughout, as usual.

‘Could I have a word please, Robert?’ Jeremy asked a little tentatively.

‘Of course you can, my dear. Fire away.’ Robert turned and fixed Jeremy with his very blue eyes which seemed to bore into him like a laser.

Jeremy took a deep breath and said, ‘I would very much like to have a stab at Laertes, and if you think I am in any way suitable for the part, would you put in a good word for me with
Giles?’

Robert looked at Jeremy, appraised him, and took his time. Jeremy held his ground and waited.

It seemed an age before Robert finally gave his response. ‘Yes, of course I will. Leave it with me.’

‘Thank you very much,’ replied Jeremy and left Robert watching him depart to join the boys.

Sally in the meantime had dashed up to Wardrobe to grab Dora.

‘Listen, sis, I think there may be a job for you in the next production, singing in the chorus. Maybe even a couple of lines. What do you think?’

Dora was on her sewing machine already and had to stop production to take all this in.

‘Oh my God, you really think so? But can I do it, Sally? I am not an actress.’

‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous,’ scoffed Sally. ‘You have an amazing singing voice – nearly as good as mine. That’s a joke, by the way. You can do it standing on
your head and you have got me to help. Giles wants suggestions and then he will audition you.’

‘Audition me?’ yelped Dora. ‘I will be so nervous though. What will I sing?’

‘Anything you like. A Beatles song, a folk song – you know loads of them – and I can always take you through some of the actual chorus from the play. You must have a go, Dora
– please!’

‘OK, OK I will do it. Now let me get on with this, or I will get the sack before the end of my first day!’

Sally went to find Giles and talk to him about her sister. He seemed pleased and impressed by the Thomas family’s talent.

‘That is good news, Sally. Tell your Dora that I will see her next Saturday morning at ten o’clock onstage.’

Thrilled to bits, Sally spent the rest of the morning working her way through the props. Simon, Peter and Jeremy had gone off to Wardrobe to check out the new girl, and were all very happy:
there was a sudden rush to be measured for their costumes. Gwendoline came to Dora’s rescue by informing them that the costumes were all hired, and if there were any alterations, she and
Janie would be doing them, as Dora was assigned to making the girls’ costumes for
Lysistrata
. Knowing they were going to be very flimsy, this only increased the boys’ interest in
design, and Dora was invited to the pub at lunchtime for a chat.

‘Oh, go away, you horrible lot and let me get on,’ scolded Dora. ‘But I shall expect the drinks to be on you later, or my mouth is sealed.’

Sally laughed and made a mental note not to worry too much about her sister; she could obviously take care of herself. There were far more important things to concentrate on, like finding a
throne for the play and doing another performance of
Oh, What a Lovely War!
tonight. As the actors all traipsed downstairs Sally felt obliged to remind them of this and suggested they rest
between the rehearsal and the show. Fat lot of good it would do.

Heather was coming towards her brandishing a notepad.

‘Oh, this looks like bad news,’ sighed Sally. ‘Where do you want me to go?’

Heather was apologetic. ‘We need to nail this throne as it is the main prop really. Lord Edward Graham has offered to lend us one. Amazing, eh? He is a great friend of Giles’s,
apparently. Anyway, if you could go with Peter in the van and pick it up this lunchtime, it would be perfect. I know you will probably miss lunch but I will treat you both to a McDonald’s on
the way back.’ She handed Sally some cash. ‘Is that a fair deal?’

Sally knew she had no choice but that was OK – all part of the job. ‘Your wish is my command,’ she said brightly. ‘Just one favour, will you keep an eye on Dora in the
pub? You might have to remind her that she has to come back at two and work.’

‘Will do,’ replied Heather, hurrying off to her next assignment.

Sally stood in the corridor for a minute trying to remember what she was going to do next. Oh, yes of course – she needed a pee!

Sally and Peter drove through massive black wrought-iron gates, topped with a crest and a motto in Latin. Before them stretched a road winding its way between two lines of
beautiful conifers; spreading back across the adjacent lawns were huge oaks and chestnut trees which had obviously been planted hundreds of years ago. The road twisted for at least a mile and a
half and then suddenly, over the brow of a little hill, Crewe Hall came into view.

‘Wow!’ breathed Peter.

‘Yes, indeed,’ Sally managed to stutter. ‘Golly, this is stunning and it must be very old. All that half-timbering is fifteenth-century Tudor, isn’t it?’

They drove round the sweeping courtyard past an impressive fountain which, despite the winter frosts, was spouting happily. While they were wondering if they could leave their rather tatty van
outside the front entrance, a man in a pinstriped suit appeared.

‘Good morning, folks,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I am Chester, the butler. You must be from the theatre. You can leave the van here and we can go and fetch the throne. It is quite
heavy, I should warn you, young man.’

Sally made the introductions and then they followed Chester inside the enormous pile. She wished her father could be here to see this magnificent entrance hall, with its high vaulted ceiling
soaring over a huge oak staircase that wound its way down from heaven above to the ground floor. All the wood was in such good nick and polished to perfection that Sally couldn’t help but
comment, ‘Gosh, you must have quite a staff working here to keep this in such good condition.’

Chester answered quite naturally, ‘Oh yes indeed, we have a team of cleaners on a rotation scheme. Crewe Hall is like the Forth Bridge: by the time you get to the other end you have to
start again. I am sure His Lordship would be happy for you to have a tour at some point. We do official tours in the summer, but yours would be private. I will mention it to him at the next
Housekeeping meeting. Now here is the throne. We brought it down from the throne room for you to save time. Can you hold the cushions, Sally? And, Peter, if you take the other arm, hopefully we can
lift the chair or drag it outside.’

The two men managed to make it to the front of the house, but then hit the problem of the gravel driveway.

Peter had a suggestion. ‘I will back the van up so we can lift it in without damage.’

This accomplished, the three of them managed, with the help of a rope or two, to get the throne into the van, laid carefully on its side on top of a rug.

‘Well done,’ said Chester rather breathlessly. ‘I can see you both have some commonsense. I would just remind you again, and please pass this on to your colleagues, that this
throne is very old and very valuable.’

‘Absolutely understood, sir,’ replied Sally. ‘Is His Lordship coming to watch the play?’ she added.

‘Yes, I believe he will be attending with his son and daughter. He is very keen on history, as you can imagine, and likes to encourage that interest in his children. After all, they will
inherit all this eventually, so it is important they understand the historical background of Crewe Hall and where they come from.’

Sally and Peter thanked the friendly butler and set off down the beautiful drive once more. They drove much more slowly on the way home, aware of the priceless item that was on board. When they
queued at the drive-in for their McDonald’s, they both giggled at the thought of what they carried in the back of the van. It was a long jump from Tudor lords to travelling players like
themselves, partaking of an American hamburger!

Heather was waiting back at the theatre worrying about her most precious prop. She had the scene dock open for easy access and Peter drove the van straight in. They managed to
unload the throne with no difficulty, and placed it, wrapped in its blankets, in a safe corner.

Heather announced: ‘This is now my responsibility for the whole of the run. Giles has informed me that the throne is insured for thousands of pounds. So if it goes missing or gets damaged,
I am in deep doo-doos!’

During the tea break, Sally went to find Percy to suggest he come and take a look at his magnificent throne – maybe sit in it and get the feel of it. She also thought it might be a good
idea to make sure he understood how valuable it was before he had his mid-morning coffee and biscuits while seated in it! She knocked on Percy’s dressing-room door but, as was often the case,
it was Peggy’s lilting voice that called out, ‘Come in! Oh Sally my dear, how lovely of you to come and see us. The kettle has just boiled, and I am making a pot for Percy and me, but
we can add another cup.’ She rose from her chair and went to the cabinet of crockery to find another china cup and saucer. It was always china cups for tea, with Peggy.

‘I don’t want to be a bother,’ said Sally. ‘Is Percy OK? He has such a mammoth part in this play, he must be working all the hours God sends.’ She took the cup and
saucer from Peggy and laid it on the tray with the others next to the matching milk and sugar bowl. There was also a china stand with some rather delicious-looking biscuits laid out. Definitely the
place to come for tea, thought Sally to herself.

Peggy had warmed the teapot and was now measuring heaped teaspoons of tea leaves into the pot and adding boiling water. ‘This will put hairs on your chest,’ she teased. ‘Mind
you, it hasn’t done a lot for Percy. Talking about Percy,’ Peggy lowered her voice, ‘I am a bit concerned about him, to be honest with you. He has taken to staying late in his
dressing room, saying he is doing his lines. Now that is all well and good, as long as he stays off the sauce, but he can’t always do that on his own. So I offered to stay with him but got
short shrift. He said he was fine, thank you, and didn’t need me spying on him. Well, I must admit that hurt me somewhat, but then again I am used to the other side of his tongue. Anyway, the
other night I stayed in my room catching up on some letters, et cetera, and time went on. Then I heard voices next door. This was now about midnight. Well, I was curious, to say the least, and
knocked on the door. Percy called out, “Hold on a minute!” so I assumed he was in the toilet. But when he finally unlocked our dividing door he looked very dishevelled, and sitting in
his armchair as happy as Larry was Sarah, with a copy of the play conveniently placed on her lap.

‘“What’s all this,” I asked,’ continued Peggy, pouring out their tea.

‘“Nothing, my sweet, just a bit of work on my lines and young Sarah is very kindly taking me through them.”

‘So I said, “Well, when I offered, you refused. But I can see the attraction of going through lines with a pretty young thing like Sarah and not a raddled old bag like me.”

‘“Oh come on now, my girl, you are being daft. I just wanted to save you having to stay up late. I know how much your beauty sleep means to you. So when Sarah offered I took the
opportunity. I was only thinking of you, my love.”

‘What could I do but leave them to it?’ Peggy asked Sally. ‘So I said something like: “Well, you need your beauty sleep as well, Prince Percy, preferably on your own. I
will see you back at the digs in an hour.”’

Peggy passed Sally her cup of tea and proffered one of the delicious biscuits.

‘What do you make of Sarah?’ she enquired, watching Sally very closely.

‘I’m really not quite sure what to make of her, to be honest. She doesn’t really muck in with the rest of us, and I do get the feeling sometimes that she thinks she is above
us. I suspect she is quite ambitious too, but with all due respect to Percy, can he really help further her career?’