mean, what does it take to get the bloody time right? What are we going to do now? I knew I should have got my dad to sort it all out. I just knew. He said you’d let me down. He did, you know. He said you’re a waste of space and that you’ll never amount to anything, that you’re just hanging on my coat-tails. Poor little Helen Heel. You’re going nowhere. You work in a toy shop for God’s sake. And you know what? He was right.’
Helen stared at her. ‘What?’ she gasped. It felt as if someone had punched her. ‘Your dad said that about me? When did he say it?’ She spluttered, ‘He’s always been nice to me. Is that what he really thinks?’ Not that Charlotte heard her or had finished with her stream of venom.
‘I can’t believe you, I really can’t. Trust you to spoil my big chance, Helen. You did it on purpose, didn’t you? Didn’t you?’ Charlotte continued furiously. ‘You’re just jealous, aren’t you? And you’ve always been jealous of me. Haven’t you?’ she shouted.
People were staring at them.
‘Of course not.’ Helen stammered. She’d always known that Charlotte had a short fuse but this was something different. She was totally stunned by the fury of Charlotte’s outburst.
‘I’m going to go and ring my dad; I’m just hoping he’ll be able to sort something out,’ Charlotte said, and stormed off back upstairs. ‘He wouldn’t have let this happen if he had been here,’ she shouted over her shoulder.
Which was the moment that Harry arrived.
‘Hello,’ he said, hurrying down the corridor towards Helen. He was soaked, his curly blonde hair slicked down over his face, his jacket dark with rain, but at least he was smiling. Helen had never been more pleased to see a friendly face in her life. He’d got their costumes on hangers, slung over one shoulder, a makeup box tucked under one arm and a holdall in the other hand.
‘There you are,’ he said with a grin. ‘Thank God I found you. Busy, isn’t it? I had one heck of a job getting past that little squirt on the reception desk. Who does he think he is?’ He paused. ‘What’s the matter? Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘No,’ Helen spluttered and burst into tears. ‘No, I’m not.’
Harry looked aghast. ‘What’s the matter? Here, let me put these down. Don’t cry – what is it?’ he said, putting his arm around her.
Helen, feeling stupid, struggled to compose herself and tried to explain between sobs what had happened. ‘Charlotte is furious,’ she said finally. ‘But I didn’t do it on purpose, I’m not like that, you know that, Harry. It was a mistake. I only passed on what the man told me yesterday at the box office.’
‘I know,’ said Harry, handing her his handkerchief. It was neatly ironed into a sandwich-sized triangle and although slightly damp from the rain, smelt of washing powder and sunshine. Good old Harry.
‘I didn’t do it deliberately.’
‘I know you didn’t, and when she calms down so will Charlotte. Here, you stay there and look after the costumes and the rest of the things and I’ll go and see what I can do.’
‘Charlotte’s gone to ring her dad,’ said Helen.
‘Okay, well in the meantime I’ll see if I can talk to someone, see if we can’t sort something out.’
‘Really?’ said Helen.
He grinned. ‘It’s got to be worth a try, hasn’t it? The worst thing they can say is bugger off. Just watch the bags, will you?’ And with that Harry vanished into the press of people heading into the auditorium.
Helen waited. A moment or two later Charlotte stamped down the stairs and slumped onto the step alongside her; her expression was like thunder.
‘Harry’s just gone to talk to someone about the mix-up with the times. Did you get through to your dad?’ asked Helen, hoping to make peace.
‘You care?’ growled Charlotte.
‘Of course I care, Charlotte. I’m really sorry. Despite what you think I really didn’t do it on purpose.’
‘I can’t get through to my dad. The pay phone up there is only taking incoming calls,’ Charlotte said.
There was a tense silence.
‘Harry brought the costumes,’ Helen said tentatively, indicating the bags slung across her knees.
‘So I see. Well, he can just take them back home again then, can’t he? This was meant to be our big chance, Helen. Our big break. They’ve got agents coming from London tonight, you know, and someone from the Corn Exchange who is casting their big extravaganza this Christmas. And bits of it are going to be on TV on the local news. You do know that, don’t you?’
Helen flinched. ‘Of course I do, Charlotte – that’s why we’re here.’
‘This could have been my big chance if it hadn’t been for you buggering it all up.’
‘We’re here now, we can still go on.’
Charlotte’s face contorted into a furious grimace. ‘Without sorting the sound out, without doing a run-through? Don’t be stupid. What it’s going to sound like – what’s it going to look like? Rank amateurs, that’s what. We’ll look like idiots, Helen. And I’m certainly not going to go on stage and make a total fool of myself even if you are. And what if that bloke you saw didn’t give them the music? We’re going to look like morons, Helen, and it’s all your fault.’
Despite trying to keep her cool Helen could feel her bottom lip begin to tremble. ‘I said I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I didn’t do it on purpose, Charlie, you surely must know that. I –’
‘For God’s sake just shut up, will you? There’s no point apologising now, is there? It’s done. Over. And you know what? You’re just totally useless,’ said Charlotte, waving the words away. ‘I’m going to go round to the phone box on Market Street, ring my dad and get him to come and pick me up. You can do what you like, Helen. Go home with Harry, go back to your pathetic little life. I can’t believe you, I really can’t – you knew how important this was.’ She bent down and snatched up the costumes. ‘We won’t be needing these now, will we?’
‘Helen! Charlotte!’ Harry shouted from the double doors at the end of the corridor. He was waving frantically, trying to attract their attention. ‘Come on, come on. Quickly, quickly, we haven’t got much time.’
‘You better run, lover-boy wants you,’ snapped Charlotte, folding the costumes over her arm. ‘I’d grab him with both hands if I were you, Helen, because let’s be frank, he’s the only chance someone like you’s got. You know what people are saying about you, don’t you? Moving in with Harry like that – that you’re only after him for his money, trying to get yourself knocked up so that he has to marry you? And you know what? I think they’re right, leading him on like that. You’re a grade A bitch, Helen Heel – probably break his heart and leave him when you’ve got what you want. Just like your mother.’
Helen stared at her in horror, unable to believe what she was hearing. ‘You don’t know a thing about my mother,’ she hissed.
‘Everyone knows,’ growled
