The Boy I Love (10 page)

Sally watched as Jeremy was introduced to Robert by Giles, and the three of them had an earnest chat about something. Jeremy certainly looked the part of the young actor. He was wearing flared
coral-coloured jeans and a floral shirt, and had grown his hair so he could flick it provocatively. His orientation seemed in no doubt whatsoever now to Sally, and by the way that Robert was
touching his arm and leaning towards him as they spoke, she guessed it would not be long before they were very good friends. A loud burst of laughter drew her attention towards Peter, her landlord,
who was joking with Simon Day and Geoffrey Challis. Simon was a real Jack the lad and seemed full of fun. He had already winked several times at Sally during the course of the morning. Geoffrey was
charming, just as Heather had told her, and seemed to fit in with everyone. She did not have a chance to talk to Charmaine or Sarah until they broke for coffee, when Sarah came over to the prompt
corner and introduced herself.

‘Hi, I am Sarah Kelly the ASM. Can I do anything to help?’ she offered.

Heather gave her two mugs of coffee and said, ‘Hi, Sarah. Take these to Giles, please. This is Sally, by the way. She is also an ASM and small parts, I believe.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ said Sarah and went off with the coffees.

Sally took the next two mugs and asked, ‘Pinky and Perky, I presume?’

Heather burst into a fit of giggles. ‘Ssh! For God’s sake don’t let anyone hear you say that! But yes – spot on, Sally, you learn fast. I think we are going to get along.
Better take some more biscuits, by the look of it. They are probably stocking up for later, or eating them now so they don’t have to buy any lunch.’

As Sally was coming back for another mug or two, Charmaine Lloyd approached her.

‘Hello, and what is your title in our esteemed little band? I am Charmaine, by the way,’ she drawled rather theatrically.

‘Yes, I realized,’ replied Sally. ‘I am Sally Thomas, ASM and small parts – lovely to meet you. Would you like a coffee or tea?’

‘No, thanks. I don’t suppose there is any Perrier water, is there? No, of course not, how silly of me. I suggested to Giles last year that he get a water-cooler thing, like the
Americans have. Don’t suppose that has materialized though. God, I feel depressed already . . .’ She wandered off across the room trailing her coat behind her like a catwalk model.

Interesting, thought Sally. Wonder if she is any good?

Giles had announced the first three productions by the end of the morning, and there was great excitement because the opening show was going to be Joan Littlewood’s
Oh, What a Lovely
War!
and everybody had to sing. Much to Sally’s amazement she was in the production as a Pierrot and had two solo songs!

Heather slapped her on the back and feigned a disgruntled voice. ‘Well, that’s you out of service as far as my management is concerned. You will be faffing around singing and dancing
instead of chasing up props for me.’

‘Oh no, I promise I will do all my stage-management stuff as well. Please don’t think you can’t rely on me,’ Sally assured her.

‘I am only joking,’ said Heather more gently. ‘Don’t worry, we will manage, and I think it is great you have got the songs. You must have a good voice.’

‘Not bad,’ said Sally modestly. She hid her true excitement for the time being. But boy, wait till she rang home and told them!

The other two productions were to be
A Man for All Seasons
by Robert Bolt, starring Percy Hackett as Sir Thomas More and Peggy Delamaine as his wife. Percy was in his element, and had
already cornered the poor wardrobe mistress to discuss his many and varied outfits. Charmaine was to play the daughter, and Jeremy had the role of More’s betrayer, Richard Rich.

The third production in the line-up was to be a musical version of the famous Aristophanes’ play
Lysistrata
.

‘This will be, in essence, a world première, ladies and gentlemen, so it will attract great interest, we hope. It will also be the production to launch a three-day conference that
this theatre will be hosting, for the Association of Repertory Theatres throughout the UK; so an important time for us all. Now the lead in this production will be our own, very lovely Charmaine
Lloyd. I would like Sally Thomas to understudy you and play one of the neighbours in the town. So you will be very busy, Sally, combining all your posts. Heather, I am sure, will give you as much
help as she can, although it will be a tough one for you, Heather, as all the girls will be in the show in some form or other. Sarah, that includes you.’

Giles turned his gaze upon the young ASM who perked up considerably and said, ‘Oh, that’s great. I will really enjoy being part of the company. Thank you, sir.’

‘So now you all have your work cut out, we will break for a quick lunch and then everyone back here for two o’clock. I will start with a musical rehearsal taken by our musical
director Mr Timothy Townsend. Take a bow, Tim.’ The musical director stood for his applause. He was a very unprepossessing little man with a bald head and ample paunch, which must get in the
way of him playing the piano, thought Sally.

The company broke, and Sally was about to suggest a bag of chips when Heather took her arm and led her towards the cluster of folk in the corner who had not been part of the cast list as such,
but consisted of the designer and lighting crew and the chief carpenter.

‘There’s no time to stop. You have to join the production meeting now, my girl. Though I suspect it will be held in the pub?’ Heather addressed this last word to a huge man in
overalls with shoulder-length hair and a fine beard and very twinkly eyes.

‘Pub is right on, Heather my lass, and is this fine-looking young lady my dinner for today?’ He peered down at Sally, who fleetingly felt a shiver of panic before the giant burst
into a huge guffaw and introduced himself. ‘Will Black at your service, chief carpenter and maker of magic. You are Sally, are you not? ASM and not so small parts, I gather. You will be a
busy little bee. Come on, let’s get to the pub so we can start our very important production meeting.’ He gave her a big wink and turned away to the rest of the group to chivvy them up.
Sally followed on feeling like Alice in Wonderland. Nothing seemed real any more.

The pub was opposite the theatre and a world away from the picturesque Cheltenham scene. This was a drinking pub and nothing else. The tables were stained and chipped, and the chairs hard and
uncomfortable. There was scarcely a female in sight, as men stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the bar, their arms lifting their pints almost in unison, like some sort of tribal dance. Will caused a
parting of the ways and they all followed him through to a back room.

‘Fetch a few more chairs and I’ll get the drinks in. Pints all round, is it?’ He paused when he caught Sally’s eye. ‘Ah well, maybe not quite. What are you having,
my dear, gin and tonic?’ Sally would have given her right arm for a gin and tonic but had the good sense not to rise to the taunt.

‘Pint of cider, please,’ she said. ‘Draught if they have it.’

Will gave one of his guffaws and disappeared into the bar. Once everyone was settled, the plans came out on the table and design took over while Sally and Heather, notepads at the ready, awaited
instructions. Sally was in a complete state of giddy excitement about her roles in
Oh, What a Lovely War!
and trying to fathom out just what her duties were going to be backstage. Because
they did a new production every two weeks the sets all had to be very adaptable, and Will had his work cut out to keep new ideas coming. The lighting designer had a standard rig, but subject to
finance would try and give each production a little extra something. What struck Sally very clearly was just how passionate everyone was about their jobs. She began to feel a sense of pride in
being part of the team. But then suddenly it was five to two and Sally had to put her actress’s hat on and get back for the music call.

‘I am sorry but I have to go,’ she whispered to Heather.

‘Yes, go on. Don’t worry, we are nearly done here anyway, and when the pub shuts that is definitely the end of the meeting,’ the other girl laughed. ‘Go! Or you will be
late and that will not look good.’

‘Tell Will I shall get the next round in when I see him.’ Sally rose and nipped out before anyone could pass comment. She just made it to the stage as Timothy was handing round the
music sheets.

‘Now I think the best way to go about this is to start with an ensemble number so we can all warm up our voices, and then I am going to listen to each one of you in turn, and put you in
the correct place for your range. So please all look at the title song “Oh, What a Lovely War!”’

The company spent the next half an hour belting out the tune and feeling very uplifted.

‘There is nothing like a good singsong to lift the spirits, is there?’ a voice whispered in Sally’s ear. It was Simon and she laughed and nodded.

Timothy was a wonderful pianist despite his paunch and was soon putting people in different spots next to each other.

‘We are going to have to learn harmonies. Have any of you got tape machines? If so, I can play your harmonies for you and you can record them and learn them at your leisure.’

Robert and Jeremy put their hands up, and surprisingly, Sarah did too. The rest of them all looked a bit pathetic. Percy and Peggy laughed it off, announcing that they would pick up the tunes
soon enough. Charmaine looked pained and said, ‘I don’t really
do
singing. Can’t I just stick with the tune?’

Timothy looked a little taken aback. ‘Well, that is not quite the spirit, Charmaine, but we will see how we get on. Sally, what are you going to do, especially about your solos? I
won’t have much time to spend with you on your own. Would you be able to get hold of a cassette, do you think?’

Sally was already thinking what to do. ‘Um, yes, of course – I will see what I can do. Sorry I am not prepared. I had no idea I would be used so soon.’ She looked round the
room, embarrassed, feeling very unprofessional.

‘Well, I understand you have a beautiful voice,’ encouraged Timothy, ‘so we must make use of it. Now I want us to have one more go at all the company stuff then we can call it
a day, because some of you have to go to Wardrobe now, I understand.’

After the rehearsal was finished Sally went to find Heather for further instructions. It was already five thirty and she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was go back to the digs, have a hot
bath followed by some baked beans on toast and go to bed – which reminded her: she would have to do some shopping on the way home, because she had bought no supplies, and could not expect
Janie to cater for her again.

Heather was in her office printing out the next day’s calls.

‘Listen, love, you have had a long day so I won’t go through all this now. Let’s meet tomorrow at nine and I’ll show you the schedule, et cetera. But if you
wouldn’t mind just handing these out to those still left in Wardrobe and pinning one on the noticeboard at the stage door when you leave, that would be great.’

‘Oh thank you, Heather, so much. I must say I am knackered. I will get the milk and biscuits for tomorrow so you don’t have to worry.’

‘OK, but remember – no more biscuits now until the next special event. Don’t spoil them. If this lot have them every day they will never appreciate the treat. Plus it will cost
you an arm and a leg, and believe me you will find your wages go quick enough without feeding the five thousand.’

‘OK thanks, point taken. Just milk then. See you in the morning,’ Sally called back over her shoulder. She found Janie in a tiny room off the wardrobe going through baskets of
costumes and said, ‘You still at it, you poor thing? What time are you going to finish?’

‘Oh, I am just filling in time while Pete has his fitting. He is nearly done. Shall we walk back together? I have made a stew for tonight. It only needs heating up, and we can get a loaf
on the way home from the corner shop. Thank God it stays open late because we have discovered nothing much stays open in Crewe after five.’ Janie closed the lid of a trunk and stretched her
back.

‘Oh Janie, I can’t eat your food,’ replied Sally. ‘You can’t cook for me all the time.’

‘I won’t, don’t worry. You can cook sometimes, and Pete is pretty good at certain things. Curry, curry and curry,’ the other girl laughed.

‘OK, that’s great. We can set up a rota. I have to buy milk for tomorrow, so I will get the bread at the same time – and how about a bottle of wine to celebrate our first
day?’ Sally suggested, warming to the plan.

‘Good idea. Oh, here he comes, my little Pierrot. Sally, you will have to be fitted for your Pierrot costume, as we are hiring them. Do you want me to do it now while you are
here?’

Sally sighed. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but needs must. ‘I suppose it is a good idea to get it over with,’ she agreed.

‘Pete, why don’t you go to the pub and we will pick you up on the way out?’ Janie gave him a kiss and sent him on his way.

They went into the wardrobe and Sally was properly introduced to the wardrobe mistress Gwendoline Stewart. She looked very proper, and had big black glasses and her hair in a bun, of all things.
Sally had an instant image of some man removing her glasses and taking down her hair, then ravaging her over the sewing machine. It made her giggle, which caused Gwendoline to give her a straight
look.

‘Something funny?’ she asked crisply.

‘No, sorry, I am just hysterical with tiredness. It has been a long day.’

‘Huh, you think this is long, just you wait until the dress rehearsal and technical days. They are flipping murder.’ Gwendoline seemed to enjoy imparting this piece of information.
She took her tape measure from around her neck and started to measure Sally’s waist, saying, ‘Right, Janie, take down these measurements, please, then we can all go home.’

Once they were finally out of the building and making their way to the pub, Sally ventured to ask Janie about Gwendoline.

‘Oh, she’s OK when you get to know her. She is a bit of a goer by all accounts – at the Christmas party last year she came dressed as a Moulin Rouge dancer. I think though that
normally she is just a bit shy and finds actors intimidating. I get on with her fine and am even allowed to call her Gwen. She is supposed to be second-in-command to Enid, but I think Giles feels
that Enid is past it now, so he is easing Gwen in, hoping Enid won’t notice!’