Approaching Christabel for a role in her pantomime was like approaching a sleeping dragon: incredibly dangerous with a pretty high risk of getting yourself burned.
However, the day after making my deal with Mum, I prepared to do just that. I saw Christabel in the Moonlight Café, having tea with her select group of friends. I guessed they were taking advantage of Diane’s delicious high tea that was only served on Sundays. They all looked vaguely nervous and from what I could see, their teacups shook whenever they picked them up. I guessed they were all perfectly normal women who were too scared to even try and avoid her.
I looked down at my own pot of tea and barely touched chocolate cake, which I’d ordered so I could stake out Christabel’s table and prepare to make my move. Although both the tea and cake were delicious, I couldn’t enjoy them because the task in front of me weighed too heavily on my mind.
There was nothing else for it: it was time to strike. I put down my teacup and made my way over to her table. As I drew closer, I could hear that she was holding court over her terrified friends with some story about an actor she’d met at a buffet restaurant in Birmingham.
I watched them for a moment, wondering if I’d really have the guts to interrupt their conversation. I’d been so used to blending into the background for so long… I thought back to the day before, about feeling that something had to change. Life couldn’t stay on pause any more; I had to start taking steps to move forward, even if they were baby ones.
I cleared my throat and the hum of conversation immediately dropped. ‘Um…hi everyone! Sorry to interrupt your tea; I-I was wondering if I could talk to Christabel for a minute? It’s about the pantomime.’
I saw Christabel’s face light up and she instantly abandoned the forkful of lemon drizzle cake that had been on its way to her mouth.
‘Really? When I mentioned it at the Breakfast Club a couple of days ago, I got the impression you thought you were too good for our little pantomime. What’s changed?’
I pursed my lips while I tried to think of an excuse. I didn’t want to tell her that I’d stopped performing after my boyfriend died and that the thought of going back to it terrified me. There had been more than enough gossip about that when I’d come back to Luna Bay, and I wasn’t sure Christabel was the understanding type. A little improvisation was called for.
‘I was…shocked, I guess, that you wanted me to be a part of your production!’ I was completely aware that my voice had risen by about three octaves, but there was nothing I could do about it. ‘I mean, the panto’s a pretty significant event on the Luna Bay calendar right? So if you’ll have me, I’d love to take part in it. Backstage only though – I don’t act any more.’
Christabel nodded slowly and looked like she wasn’t sure whether to believe I was sincere or not. ‘Well, it would be an amazing coup for us to have a real Broadway actress on board. And there are quite a few backstage roles up for grabs because we’ve had some dropouts. Tell you what, why don’t you come along to our rehearsal tonight and we’ll see where we can slot you in? It’s in the theatre at seven. Be sharp though; I don’t tolerate latecomers.’
I smiled and nodded. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it!’
*
To say Mum was ecstatic when I told her would be a gross understatement.
‘What part do you think they’ll have you playing?’ she babbled over the phone when I called to give her the good news. ‘You’d make a lovely Cinderella; I remember seeing you in, what was it, Sleeping Beauty? You looked lovely in all those gorgeous dresses! I hope they don’t make you one of the ugly sisters just because you’ve joined late.’
‘Sorry to disappoint you, but I asked for a backstage role!’ I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder as I fired up the laptop to do more research on Ethan Fox. That touching comment he’d made about me was still floating around my mind, much to my surprise. ‘All the good parts have probably gone and I haven’t been on stage for years. I can still hand out programmes or help with the hair and make-up though.’
My eyes scanned the laptop for articles or interviews I might’ve missed the first time around. Most of the articles painted him as a cocky womaniser, which was completely at odds with my impression of him at Fox’s. I wasn’t sure why Ethan had been popping up in my thoughts, or why I wanted to find out more about him. All I knew was that every time I replayed what he’d said to me, my face broke out into a smile.
Mum heaved out a sad sigh. ‘I was hoping to see you do your thing on stage, but being involved backstage is better than nothing, I guess.’
‘Trust me, I’d be rubbish; I’m so out of practice and I’d make the production even worse than it normally is. It’s probably a good thing that I’m going nowhere near the stage!’
‘You know, you actually sound quite excited about this,’ she remarked. ‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were looking forward to it.’
A loud snort was my response, followed by: ‘I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself! I’m taking part in the village panto; that doesn’t mean I’ll be booking West End auditions or heading off on touring productions. This is just me dipping my toe in the water again, that’s all. Although I have to admit, I’m a little bit excited about being part of a production again. Even if it is one as disastrous as the Luna Bay Christmas pantomime.’
*
As per Christabel’s precise instructions, I turned up to rehearsals at seven p.m. sharp. The Silver Bells Theatre, like all other buildings in Luna Bay, was utterly charming – with its vaulted ceiling, stained-glass windows and friendly, cosy atmosphere. The fat red velvet seats were in need of a little TLC, but the stage was beautiful. A huge hexagon that commanded the attention of the entire space, it was a performer’s dream. I could almost imagine standing on it and looking out at an audience just waiting to be entertained…
‘Good, you’re here.’ Christabel’s booming voice broke through my thoughts and dragged me back to the present. ‘The performers haven’t arrived yet, which is typical, so I’ve got time to take you through our vacant backstage roles.’
All I could do was nod before she launched into a diatribe about all the positions that needed to be filled and why the people who’d previously occupied them had left.
‘People around here don’t seem to realise that you need a thick skin to be in show business. Honestly, the set designer walked out because I said his ballroom scene looked like something even Jackson Pollock wouldn’t put his name on! Some people can’t handle constructive criticism. Luckily, you understand what it means to be a true artiste! Although I must say I’m surprised that you don’t want to take an on-stage role in the production. Surely, a serious actress like you must feel the call to perform?’
I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and prepared to roll out the stock excuse I used whenever this came up. ‘My heart just wasn’t in it any more. That’s why I quit.’
Christabel whipped round to look at me at a rate of knots, almost causing her styled brown crop of hair to fall out of place.
‘I can’t imagine ever not wanting to be on stage any more. I think that’s why this time of year is so important to me; I get the chance to release my inner director. I like to think of myself as the Nora Ephron of Luna Bay. Places, everybody; enter stage
