Keep on Dancing, page 28
‘Good.’ He drew her close and kissed her on the mouth. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy trying out the makeshift bed tonight?’
‘I thought you’d never ask. The trouble is, once I stop over you might not get rid of me.’
‘Which leads me to the big question,’ he ran a finger down her cheek, ‘let’s get married soon, Ro. Why wait now that we’ve got a flat?’
‘It would ’ave to be a poor-man’s wedding.’
He creased his brow and drew a breath. ‘Is that a yes?’
‘As soon as the show’s over we’ll make arrangements… if that’s what you want?’ She waited for his reaction, unsure if she had been too quick with her response and change of heart. So far she had said she would prefer to wait a couple of years.
‘If it’s what I want?’ he spoke as if he had not heard right. ‘What I want?’
‘Yeah. I know it’s a bit sudden, but… I hardly ever see you and, well, I miss you. When I’m in bed at night I put a pillow next to me and pretend it’s you.’
‘Rosie… if this is meant to be a joke, it’s not funny.’
‘It’s not a joke. Look, before we get in the car, I’ll tell you. Last night, well, I wasn’t working. I went out with the girls on a pub crawl. It was Caroline’s idea and a good one. We were publicizing the show and it worked but… I don’t want to be out there, George. Chatting to blokes I don’t want to have to chat to. It made me realize how much I love you. I’m sorry I lied to you but—’
‘Rosie – shut up.’ His face alive with happiness he clenched his fists, punched the air and grabbed her by the waist; lifting her in the air. ‘Will you marry me?’
Laughing, she told him to put her down. ‘Not until you answer my question – is it really what you want?’
‘You’re supposed to get down on your knee, you silly sod – not chuck me about.’
‘Will you marry me this year? Answer yes or no.’
‘Yes!’
Chapter 14
Just two days before the musical was due to open, Rosie had gathered the cast for a dress rehearsal which had proved disastrous. Tilly had done her job well; every alteration was perfect and there were no problems in that quarter but when it came to actors having to make quick costume changes, backstage it was chaos. Tempers were fraught to say the least. No one seemed to know where their costumes were and there was not enough time between scenes to remove one set of clothes and put on another.
‘Who is your stage manager?’ asked Larry in his usual placid way.
‘What?’ Rosie was uncharacteristically impatient with him. ‘What are you talking about now? Stage manager? We’ve all been getting on with it. Me, Richard, Caroline, the cast…’
‘I see. You didn’t stop to think that the cast would be engaged in their acting and that Richard had more than enough to cope with? That they would need one or two people out the back, under the guidance of a stage manager, to help them change and make sure they had their personal stage props?’ Now it was his turn to show her another facet – he was frustrated by her incompetence. Frustrated and annoyed.
‘Where’s Tilly?’
‘I don’t know! Scrubbing her kitchen floor. Bleaching the bath. Why?’
‘Why? You ask me why? Why the seamstress is not here for a full dress rehearsal? And what about the costume designer? Has she gone missing too? Or didn’t you think it was necessary for her to be here either?’
Rosie slumped down into the seat next to him and gazed up at the stage, reflecting on the chaos. ‘It’s falling to pieces.’
‘It isn’t falling to pieces, you are. You should have thought things through. I’ll phone Tilly and ask her to come over and fetch a friend. She’s bound to know someone who has a tidy mind.’ Lifting himself from his seat he told Rosie to instruct everyone to take a break. ‘Take half an hour for coffee and give them all time to calm down. It’s like a bloody circus up there.’
‘You’re right, Larry, I should ’ave listened to Richard. He kept asking about stage management. I thought he was trying to take over.’ She looked at him and shrugged. ‘Thanks for pointing it out. How’s things with the bank and all that jazz?’
‘Fine… for now. God help me if the show flops.’
‘It won’t Larry – I won’t let you down. That’s a promise.’
Once Larry had left, Rosie followed his advice and within ten minutes each of them were suitably pacified. ‘It’s my fault,’ she told them, ‘I overlooked the fact that we would need support back there. Larry’s making a phone call and two helpers will be here soon. It’s just as well we found out now instead of on the night.’
‘It’s just as well,’ said Caroline, ‘that we did go for a dress rehearsal today and not tomorrow when the set-builders arrive.’
‘I know. You were right to insist on it.’ Pouring milk into a large white jug, she told everyone to help themselves to tea or coffee and then resumed her position in the front row with a cup of tea in one hand and a cigarette in the other. ‘Don’t worry folks – it’ll be all right on the night!’
‘When did you say the band would be arriving, Ro?’ one of the actresses asked. ‘This afternoon?’
‘No. They’re all at work. They won’t get ’ere till about seven o’clock.’
‘You mean we’re going to be here all day and evening too?’ Vi, who had a main part in the musical, looked far from pleased.
‘You can go home at two and come back at seven if you want,’ Rosie was too tired to argue. ‘Take a taxi and I’ll give it you out of expenses.’
‘Have you looked at your watch recently?’ asked Vi, a touch sarcastic. ‘It’s half past twelve already. By the time we do a proper dress rehearsal it will be gone four. If we’re to be back by seven it won’t be worth going.’
‘That’s true,’ she sighed, wishing to God she hadn’t got herself into this situation. ‘You can always ’ave an afternoon nap in Larry’s room. There are two armchairs up there and a settee that pulls down into a double bed.’
‘That’s more like it.’ Vi looked at her wristwatch. ‘Right… If anyone else wants to join me now for one hour’s sleep they’re welcome. The next shift will be at a quarter to two. Then at three o’clock… four-fifteen… and five-thirty. I suggest we all put our heads down at some time whether we go off to sleep or not. It’s going to be a long day, and tomorrow will be the same if we’re going to be properly rehearsed. We don’t want to look like a bunch of bloody amateurs on stage. People will be paying good money to come in to see a professional show. Get Richard to take a break as well. Poor devil’s not stopped. Lecture over.’ She made her way towards the stairs, heading for what would now be referred to as the green room.
‘Hang on, Vi – I’ll come with you,’ said another actress. ‘Had a late night last night and one too many drinks.’
‘And that’s another thing!’ Vi called back. ‘From now on, no socializing and no alcohol. Once you leave this theatre it’s home and to bed! We don’t want another fiasco on opening night!’
Feeling like a complete and utter failure, Rosie lowered her head, ashamed; hoping the others would ignore her. It seemed that everyone was beginning to lose confidence in her, and for good reason. Up until now everything had gone well, but that did not compensate for the last-minute shambles.
‘Take no notice of Vi,’ said Caroline, ‘she’s nervous, that’s all. Putting on a professional show in a proper theatre’s a bit different from what her group have been doing. Not that I don’t admire ’em. They know their limitations and their audience. They don’t ’ave to worry about the crits, either. The am dram circuit have a lot of fun… and I’m not being funny, but things are getting a bit heavy around ’ere. Vi’s probably worrying about the vultures as well.’
‘The what?’
‘Theatre critics… journalists.’ She waved her arms. ‘This is a bona fide theatre and you’ll be getting people in who are paying bona fide prices. They’re bound to turn up ready to knock you down. You knew that, surely?’
‘Yeah… ’course I did. I just didn’t quite catch the word… I thought you said gits,’ she lied, saving herself from more humiliation.
Laughing loudly, Caroline called to the others. ‘Did you hear that? Rosie thought I said that the gits are bound to turn up! Crits – gits, get it?’ The others saw the joke and their welcome contagious laughter brought a smile to Rosie’s face.
‘Watch out, everyone! The gits ’ave arrived!’ said Caroline again, thoroughly enjoying the quip, not caring that she was breaking the rule, about not laughing at your own jokes. Whether she had meant to or not, within seconds she had changed the mood from one of despair to plain relief. Rosie had a feeling that Caroline knew exactly what she was doing, and silently thanked her.
Taking some time out was an excellent idea – everyone was now relaxed and laughing amid the pandemonium backstage, and the air was a lot clearer than it had been ten minutes previously. Once Tilly arrived and took on the role of backstage manager, things would fall into place. Tilly was a born organizer, and no doubt any friend she brought with her would be out of the same mould.
‘Caroline… I’m not really gonna be needed, am I, not until Tilly sorts things out with the costumes and that?’
Caroline gave Rosie a sympathetic pat on the back. ‘Yes you are. I want you up on that stage for another run-through.’
‘You said I was great, earlier on. Flawless.’
‘I know, but that dream sequence is really important. We’re closing the show with it. I want to make sure I’ve not missed anything. You’re a brilliant dancer, Ro, I’m not questioning that. It’s my choreography I want to be sure of. And you know what they say: something good is worth doing well.’
‘Yeah… all right then. One more time, and then I’ve got to put my head down.’
‘Just what I was about to say. I’m not being funny, but it’s beginning to show. You look dog-tired.’
‘Once I do go up there I might not come back down. Knock on Larry’s door if I’m gone longer than half an hour.’
‘Will do. Go on then – get up on that stage.’
* * *
Having given another of her best performances and satisfying Caroline, Rosie dragged herself up to Larry’s room to find Vi had flopped out in an armchair and was sound asleep. She tiptoed over to the settee and very quietly eased it open to make a bed. Lying down, she reached out for a cushion from a second armchair and arranged it under her head. Seconds later she was drifting off…
* * *
‘Don’t you think it’s time I woke those two, Caroline? They’ve been up there for over an hour.’
‘Do us all a favour, Larry, and leave ’em be. Everyone knows their part and I’ll fill in for Vi. It was the costume changes that were giving us problems, not the run-through. Tilly and her friend are doing a smashing job out the back; I think we should leave things as they are.’
‘You’re a very shrewd young lady,’ he smiled. ‘You’ll go far.’
‘I intend to.’
‘I’m, sure. What would you like me to do? If I can help…’
‘Be our critic. Sit in the back row. That way you’ll be able to tell us if anyone needs to raise their voice… or if anyone’s shouting above the rest. If anything’s not working as well as it could do, let me know and I’ll ’ave a quiet word.’ She drew on her cigarette. ‘What do you think of it so far? The dance routines?’
‘I think it’s wonderful. But don’t get too big-headed. Now that I’m a critic I may have something else to say that you won’t like.’ He assumed a posture of importance and made his way sedately to the back of the auditorium.
‘OK, everyone! Are we ready to run through it again?’ Richard had also taken a nap: fifteen minutes and he was ready to go again. Clapping his hands authoritatively, he called them to order.
Tilly was the first to speak as she appeared on the stage, calm and serene. ‘They’re ready when you are, dear.’
‘Good. From the beginning, then! I’ll read Vi’s part from down here, OK?’ Richard waited a few moments and then yelled, ‘Quiet please!’
Dressed in clothes of the Thirties and carrying a suitcase, the lead actress playing the part of Sarah made her entrance, looked around as if she had found herself in another world and then called out to one of the lavender pickers, ‘Excuse me… could you tell me the way to Fairweather Hall?’
One by one the women turned their heads to gaze at her. ‘Follow the yellow brick road,’ one of them said, jesting. A chorus of laughter followed. ‘Or go back to London now before the lord of the manor turns you into a slave as well!’ said smother.
‘Pay no attention my dear,’ said Caroline, filling in for Vi. ‘They’re pulling your leg. You just keep on walking to the end of the lane… you can’t miss it.’
‘Thank you,’ murmured Sarah, ‘thank you very much.’ With her head lowered she carried on walking and make her exit.
‘Looks a bit green if you ask me! Pretty green mind…’
‘No one is asking you. Get back to work!’
‘Green now – blue later,’ chuckled another picker. Then very quietly they began to sing, a touch mischievously…
‘Lavender’s blue, dilly-dilly, lavender’s green,
She’ll meet the king, dilly-dilly, she shall be queen…’
‘Don’t the costumes look good,’ whispered Rosie, slipping into the seat next to Larry, her voice still husky from sleep.
‘Shhh… I’m concentrating,’ he whispered back, taking his role very seriously indeed.
‘I’ve had a lovely rest…’
‘Good. Now can we be quiet? You want a good show, or don’t you?’
‘Good? It’s gonna be great, Larry. Providing we get an audience we—’
‘Shhh…’
‘It was a good article, wasn’t it?’
‘I told you – it was excellent.’
‘Front page.’
‘Mmm.’
‘But only eleven phone calls inquiring…’
‘That’s better than no phone calls.’
‘We will get an audience, won’t we?’
‘Wait and see. Most people just turn up and buy their tickets on the night.’ Had Rosie paid attention to the tone in his voice, she would have realized that he had been up to something… arranging things here and there.
Closing her eyes she prayed silently, Please God, let these seats be full – if only for the opening night.
* * *
At five-thirty the following afternoon, on the eve of the big day, Rosie was curled up on an armchair at home, fast asleep. The sound of the clock on the mantelshelf striking the half-hour did not bring her from her deep slumber. ‘Look at ’er,’ said Harriet, ‘out to the world.’
‘I’ll have to wake her,’ said Richard, worriedly. ‘We’re meant to be there by seven. She’ll want to wash and change.’
‘The show don’t start till half past, do it?’
‘No, but it’s better to be early.’
‘Rosie!’ Harriet suddenly called out. ‘Wake up, mog! We’re going out!’
‘Eh…? What…?’ She lifted her eyelids a fraction and peered at her gran. ‘Who’s going out?’
‘We are. Your mother’s putting on a bit of makeup and doin’ ’er ’air. Fancies she might meet a rich bloke, no doubt.’
Stretching, Rosie asked Harriet what she was talking about. ‘Nothing to do with me. Blame ’is lordship ’ere. I said you wouldn’t wanna go out the night before your own show, but no one listens to an old woman who knows her granddaughter better than anyone.’
Rosie looked from her to Richard. ‘What’s she talking about?’
‘It’s a surprise.’ He held up a hand and showed her four tickets. ‘Compliments of Aunt Belle. Get your skates on.’
‘What for?’
‘We’re going to see My Fair Lady,’ he said, hardly able to contain his excitement. ‘It’s a surprise.’
‘Richard… our show opens tomorrow. You don’t really think we can go out on the town when I’m sick with worry? I’ve been awake for twenty-four hours. I spent the entire night reversing my solo scene. If I had the energy, I’d be dancing now as well.’
‘It’s why I asked for tickets for tonight’s performance. To take your mind off Lavender Lady. We both need to distance ourselves from it… if only for a few hours.’
‘Love in Lavender,’ she corrected. ‘Remember?’
‘How could I forget?’ He had been arguing against it since she told him of the change.
‘You just did.’ She slumped her shoulders, yawned and uncurled her legs. ‘I’m deadbeat, Richard. You go. Give Larry my ticket. Where is he, anyway?’
‘Gone out… again. I reckon he’s got a fancy woman,’ said Harriet.
‘Splash some water on your face, Rosie, and put on your red dress. You’ll feel like going then.’ The plea in his voice got to her. Any other time and she would have jumped for joy at the chance of seeing this particular musical.
‘Make us a cup of tea then… and I’ll move myself.’ She peered at her gran. ‘You’ve ’ad your curlers in. You knew about this, didn’t yer?’
‘I did,’ she said proudly. ‘I’ve bin looking forward to it. So don’t you go and put the damper on things.’
‘How we gonna get there?’
‘Taxi,’ said Richard. ‘We’re doing this in style.’
‘Right… I’ll go up and get washed then.’ She stood up and cupped Richard’s face in her hands. ‘Thanks, cousin… this is just what I need. I’ll do a tap-dance in the foyer, shall I?’
‘I… don’t think so…’
‘I’m kidding, Richard, I’m kidding.’
Laughing at him, she left the room, feeling suddenly awake and excited, all worries about the following evening were drifting away. Remembering what Caroline had said, Loosen up a bit, she rapped on the bathroom door. ‘Got any scent, Mum? I’ve run out of mine.’
‘You’ll find a small bottle of Evening in Paris on my dressing table!’
‘Oh… no, that’s all right thanks. I’ll splash on a drop of Gran’s rose water instead. Don’t be long in there!’
