Body on the Stage (28 page)

“I was going to go out to the
track on Friday night, but I suppose I could be there,” Ricky
sighed as if being put upon.

“Ooh, a parade through town,
what fun!” Simon smiled widely. “Can we choose our own
outfits?”

“Um, I think we’d better let
Wardrobe sort that one out,” said Jessica. “I’m sure Clara-Jane
will have her ideas on what you’ll be wearing. What about you,
Mark? Is Friday night OK with you?”

“Er, yes, Friday is fine.” He
hesitated. “I’m not sure about Saturday afternoon though. If we
were just doing a short shoot here it would be all right but I
don’t want to be tied up all afternoon driving around doing outdoor
shoots. Could we keep it simple and just do some group shots here?
There must be enough props around that we could use to make them
interesting. And the quicker the session, the less the photographer
will charge, surely? All the more money for the theatre, eh
Jessica?”

She eyed him thoughtfully. “You
may have a point there, Mark. I’ll talk to Nick and the
photographer and see what they think. Anyway, put Friday night and
Saturday afternoon in your diaries for now and I’ll let you know
the exact details later. All good, guys?”

“Yep.”

“Sure.”

“Sweet as.”

After his early morning workout
on Friday Dennis sought out Cathy in her office to arrange a
pick-up time for the evening’s outing. Jessica had roped him in as
driver, and Cathy as part of the guys’ entourage.

“We’ll head for the theatre at
seven o’clock to get dressed in whatever outfits Wardrobe has
chosen for us. Does that sound OK?”

“Sure,” Cathy smiled. “I hope
Clara-Jane has picked out something short and sexy with sequins to
make this glittering event special.”

“And perhaps she’ll have found
something nice for you, too.”

She giggled. “Listen to you,
making smart jokes like that. I always thought you had a great
sense of humour even when you were shy and unhappy about yourself.
It’s nice to see I was right.”

“Well thank you. I feel more
myself now, as if I’m actually in control of my life and not just
coasting along letting things happen to me and trying to cope with
them.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe how long I wasted
feeling bad after Louise left. If only I’d met you sooner.”

“You might not have been ready
then.It takes time to recover from wounds like the ones she
inflicted. You needed to come to terms with the changes in your
life before you could move on.”

“Well,” he smiled, “I’ve moved
on now, haven’t I? New body, new interests, new girlfriend.” He
winked. “New techniques, too.”

“Yes, and I’m sure we can expand
your education in that area even further, if you’re willing to
place yourself in my hands.”

“Oh God, woman, how can I go to
work now with the images you’ve just put into my head? Look, hold
that thought, and we’ll pick it up later on tonight, all
right?”

He gave her a quick kiss goodbye
and went off to the office with a grin on his face.

They presented themselves to
Jessica that night, giggling like a couple of adolescents.

“OK, we’re here. Where do we
find our outfits?”

She looked at them tolerantly.
“Having fun, you two? That’s good. Just pop up the stairs to the
wardrobe room – those stairs over there you go past on the way to
the Rose Room.”

“That’s funny,” said Dennis, “I
never noticed them before.”

“Well with all the odd steps and
corners and corridors in that area it’s not really surprising. I
used to get lost trying to get from the upper props cage to the
workshop, even though you could see one from the other. I’d been
here at least six months before I ventured up the wardrobe stairs
myself.” She propelled them across the Green Room. “Off you trot,
chaps – Clara-Jane is up there waiting for you. First in best
dressed.”

Dennis chivalrously stood aside
so Cathy could go up the narrow wooden steps ahead of him, with the
added bonus of enjoying the view of her athletic bottom in black
Lycra leggings right at his eye level.

She pushed open a white panelled
door at the top and they entered a long narrow attic-like room
filled with row upon row of clothing racks. It had a faintly musty
smell of second-hand clothes and ancient fabrics, overlaid with a
hint of pot-pourri and incense. To their right was a high white
counter with a mound of clothing draped over it and several small
racks behind it. A head with short magenta hair popped round the
end of a wall of shelving beside the counter.

“Hello Cathy! And you’re Dennis
aren’t you? We haven’t been properly introduced yet – I’m
Clara-Jane.” She bustled over and offered a plump white hand to
shake. “So, you’re out on the town with the boys tonight, eh? Let’s
see what we can kit you out with.” She eyed Dennis up and down.
“Good bod. I’m surprised you aren’t on stage with the others.”

“Thank you. It hasn’t always
been like this,” he confessed. “This is actually all Cathy’s work.
She’s been training me down at Intensity.”

“Really? Well, I think we all
shape our partners in our own image, don’t we? I meet nice-looking
men and within three months they’re sharing my pizza and looking as
round as I am. Still, makes more work for you, eh Cathy? You’re
looking disgustingly fit as usual.” She turned to one of the racks
and picked up a tiny little red dress Dennis assumed was a child’s
outfit. “Here you go, see if you can slip into this little number.
There’s a changing room over there. Dennis, I’ve got a dark suit
that’s quite military in design that will look great as a
chauffeur’s uniform, if it’s not too big on you. Have you got any
plain white shirts of your own?”

“Er, no, not plain white.”

“That’s all right, I’ll fit you
out in one of ours. Have a rummage on that rack over there and see
if you can find one your size, will you? And here’s a dark tie to
go with it.” She pushed him towards a long rack of white shirts in
every style from frilled evening to blousy pirate.

A few minutes later he felt a
tap on his shoulder.

“How’s this?”

As he turned and took in the
sight of Cathy dressed in a clinging red mini-dress his jaw dropped
open.

“Wow.” He stopped, lost for
words.

“Just ‘wow’?” she teased.
“Nothing more to say on the subject?”

“Words are superfluous.” He took
her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly until Clara-Jane cleared
her throat loudly.

“OK, you two, that’ll do! I see
your outfit is a success, Cathy. Let’s get the rest of this
fellow’s chauffeur uniform sorted out. Can you find him a peaked
cap from one of the boxes on that shelf please? Come on Dennis,
haven’t you found a shirt yet?”

“They all look the same to me,”
he protested. “White, sleeves, buttons, collar. How do I know which
one’s right?”

“Oh move aside, you hopeless
male, I’ll do it.” Clara-Jane plucked three shirts from the rack
and thrust them at him. “Right, try those on.”

“Where was the changing room
again?”

“Oh just slip them on out here,
no need to hide away, unless you have an over-developed sense of
modesty. Go on, whip your top off and see which one of these fits
you.” He obeyed, seeing no choice in the matter.

Cathy came back with a hat. “I
see you got your shirt off,” she grinned. “Couldn’t help impressing
an audience, eh?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” sputtered
Dennis, “Clara-Jane insisted.”

“R

ight, of course she did.” Cathy
leaned shoulder to shoulder with Clara-Jane and they surveyed
Dennis knowingly. “He’s not bad, is he?”

“You did well there, Cathy. Very
nice indeed.”

Dennis hurriedly put a shirt on
and shrugged into the dark jacket. He held his hand out for the cap
and put it on. “How’s that?”

They looked at each other.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have
to see the trousers as well,” gurgled Cathy, nudging Clara-Jane who
burst out laughing.

“Oh definitely. Got to see the
trousers, Dennis. They can be a tricky thing to fit!”

He picked up the pants, wheeled,
and disappeared into the changing room while they fell about
giggling. Safely behind the curtain, he smiled to himself. This was
fun.

Once Cathy and Dennis were both
fully equipped for the evening’s outing they went back down to find
the guys, Cathy teetering on the stairs in the highest heels she’d
ever worn in her life.

“Could you go first? Then I’ll
put my hand on your shoulder to steady myself.”

“And I’ll…” Dennis stopped. He’d
been about to say he’d provide a soft landing if she fell on him,
but suddenly realised that was happily no longer true. “I’ll catch
you if you trip,” he promised her.

“I know you will, sweetheart.
That’s why we’ve been building all those muscles, isn’t it.” She
reached the level floor with a sigh of relief. “I can’t wait to see
what the guys are wearing. I wonder if they’ll use their stripper
costumes.”

“I was expecting something
formal. They wear tail coats in the final dance scene, don’t they?
They’d be more appropriate for a tour of the nightclubs.”

Neither of them guessed right.
They found the four strippers in the Green Room looking dubiously
at a set of elaborate Spanish jackets bejewelled with sequins and
rhinestones.

“Ai caramba,” said Ricky
sarcastically. “Are we meant to be seen in public wearing
these?”

“Oh, they’re great!” Simon
reached for a jacket and swung it around himself. “My God they’re
heavy too!” He inserted his arms into the jewel-encrusted garment.
“There is some serious bling here, boys, but I tell you what –
don’t try wiping your nose on the sleeve or you’ll take the end
off!” He pirouetted across the room with his arms above his head
snapping imaginary castanets.

The others reached for a jacket
each and slid them on. Warwick looked impressive, Mark looked
resigned, and Ricky looked furious.

“Jeez, it’s bad enough we have
to wear the makings of a carnival in the streets, but mine doesn’t
even fit.” He held out his arms to show just half a hand protruding
from each sleeve. Clara-Jane came in at that point brandishing
scissors and Velcro.

“All right you lot, let’s see
what we have to do to these. Stand still for a moment will you?
Hey, Simon! Over here please.” They gathered in front of her like
naughty schoolchildren. “There’s a limit to what we’re allowed to
do to these as they’re only borrowed, but they have some clever
adjustments inside that should make them able to fit all of you.
Yes Ricky,” she forestalled his complaint, “including you. Now you
have to promise me you’ll take care of these tonight, OK? Like I
said, they’re on loan, and they’re worth a small fortune. Don’t
lose them, don’t damage them, and make sure they’re back in good
shape to wear onstage once we open, yes?”

They all muttered agreement.
Clara-Jane turned to Dennis. “If there’s any rough stuff tonight
you’ll have to deal with it – your outfit is expendable.”

“Eh? Just what are you expecting
to happen?” he asked her. “We’re not going looking for trouble, are
we? I thought this was just a quick trip round the bars so let
people see the guys and tell them to come to the show. Nobody
mentioned rough stuff.”

“Just planning for all
eventualities,” she assured him blithely. “You can never be too
careful, especially with irreplaceable costumes. Really, I’m quite
surprised Adam is letting them go out on the street, but I suppose
the draw value of the outfits overshadowed the risk.” She sniffed.
“But it’s not him who’ll have to deal with mending them if anything
gets damaged.”

“OK then,” Dennis shrugged. “I
guess I can play the heavy if it comes down to it.” He nudged
Cathy. “Pity they didn’t mention this when I
was
heavy – I
could have saved myself all that effort.” He dodged her playful
slap on the arm.

Jessica breezed into the Green
Room waving a champagne bottle. “Righto chaps, there’s a stonking
great stretch limo out front awaiting your lovely bodies. Off we
go!”

Clara-Jane burst into applause.
“Well done Jessica! That dress looks a million bucks. You scrub up
quite well when you make the effort, don’t you?”

Jessica tried a curtsey on high
heels but gave it up as a bad job. “Thanks for your help, oh
Mistress of the Wardrobe, I couldn’t have done it without you.” She
looked around. “Nice job on these two as well. A suave minder and a
glammed-up groupie – perfect.” She thrust the bottle at Cathy.
“Just a bottle from the props room filled with lemonade. Oh and
it’s diet lemonade in your honour. Splash it round to best effect
when you’re being seen, OK?”

“But not on the costumes,”
pleaded Clara-Jane.

Her request fell on deaf ears as
the group made their way from the Green Room down the corridor to
the front door where the promised white limousine was waiting.
Jessica and Cathy joined the guys in the back and Dennis got in
behind the wheel. The car pulled away smoothly and they headed for
their first destination.

Dennis felt a brief flutter of
nerves as they walked towards the door of the bar at the top end of
town. This was something completely outside his experience. What if
he got it wrong? He felt Cathy squeeze his arm.

“Don’t look so worried, love.
This is just play-acting. Imagine you’re a character in a movie and
just pretend – it’ll be fun. You’ll do fine.”

“Who should I be, do you
think?”

“Um, how about Matt Damon in
The Bourne Ultimatum
? He’s tough on the outside and sweet on
the inside just like you.”

Dennis’s grin was a mile
wide.

Jessica spoke to the four
actors. “Walk through the bar, try to make eye contact with all the
women. Hand out the flyers, and if you see a really shy-looking
girl give them a ticket. Just one, that way they’ll bring a friend
or two. OK, lady-killers, go do your stuff!”