Excerpts & Samples
For as long as I've been going to the stage door, I've been writing stories about the stage door - ridiculous stories, romance stories, friendship stories, nonsense stories, any story which I could think of to put my theatre friends into or stories inspired by things I saw at stage door. Sometimes the stories became longer stories which - though too crazy to ever cut it as an actual novel - did have a few scenes in which I thought I'd share on this site. A word of warning, though: a lot of these stories were written when I was still in school!! Still, I do have fond memories of plotting these things out in the back of my mind during particularly boring lessons and laughing sharing them with my friends at sleepovers, doing impressions and swapping notes along the way.
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Extracts From: Pulling It Off
Pulling It Off was a fairly ridiculous, wild imagining of an almost never-ending Cats audition featuring several days of callbacks, dance battles, potential romances and freak accidents, all in pursuit of an answer to the question of who could 'pull it off' and get picked to be a part of the tour. It was an inaccurate portrayal of audition life, but I had a lot of fun coming up with random incidents and daft dialogue to give to the characters at the audition and there's still a few moments in it that make me smile, even if I never actually got around to finishing it...I think it's safe to say, all my favourite performers who featured in the story would've been the ones who ended up getting cast in the story's tour anyway!
Dean raised his eyebrows as the supervisor returned with a youngish looking dancer at her side. She noticed and looked at him, waiting for him to pass comment.
“Who’s the kid?” Dean asked, not wanting to dash her hopes.
“Now Dean, be nice!”
“I’m always nice!” Dean grinned and the girl laughed.
“Why don’t you go over there and bother Tim. He’s going up for Munkustrap too,” she said with a smirk and she moved over to sit on a table with her new dancer friend. Dean turned slowly to face the man who had been pointed out to him. It was the same wide-faced man who he had spotted earlier.
The two men walked towards each other, meeting in the middle of the room. Each looked the other up and down cynically.
“Dean,” Dean informed the man bluntly.
“Tim,” the man replied, shaking his slightly shaggy brown hair out of his eyes and taking in Dean’s closely shaven head with scepticism.
“I’ve just finished a European tour and my voice goes before me. Sometimes literally,” Dean informed Tim. Tim nodded thoughtfully as they continued to eye each other up.
“I’ve been in several dance companies. My ballet and dance skills don’t leave anything to be desired,” Tim informed Dean. They stood in silence, looking each other up and down some more despite having taken in all there was to see.
Then Dean folded his arms, nodding his head as if in answer to a question he had asked himself.
“You’re ok,” he said, offering Tim his hand to shake. Tim grinned, shaking his hand firmly. The two men both folded their arms now.
“Time for food I think,” Tim said brightly.
“Agreed. What’ve you got?” Dean asked. Both men delved in to their pockets and both produced a large green apple. Dean looked at his apple and then at the one Tim was holding.
“All that was left in the fridge,” they said in unison, and then they laughed.
“We can work with it…” Dean said, scanning the room for anyone with food.
“That guy’s eating,” Tim informed him.
They both looked at the man Tim had pointed out. He had shoulder-length, dark brown hair and he sat on a table to one side of the room with his legs crossed. Tim and Dean exchanged a glance.
“You don’t think…” Tim said.
“Another Munkustrap. Got to be,” Dean replied and they both tensed slightly. The man wore his long hair loose, implying he wasn’t intending on any especially hard dance routines and in his pocket Dean could clearly see a packet of throat sweets hinting towards another Munkustrap hoping to get through on singing skills. But there was clearly a bobble around his wrist which meant he could well be intending to tie his hair back when it came time to dance and his dance bag looked well worn hinting towards another Munkustrap hoping to get through on his dance skills.
“Throat sweets…singing ability” Tim noted.
“Dance bag…dance skills” Dean said quickly.
“You don’t think he might be equal in both do you?” Tim asked. Dean took a breath.
“I say we investigate,” he said and they walked over to the man.
“You going up for Munkustrap?” Dean asked immediately. The man put down what he was eating, looking at Dean.
“Yeah. What of it?” he shrugged.
“What’s your name?” Tim asked.
“Pete. Why?”
“Dancer or singer?” Dean cut in.
“Bit of both. Why do you two care anyway?” Pete frowned. Tim and Dean exchanged a glance.
“You’re with us. Now, what’re you eating?” Dean asked.
“With you? What?”
“He’s eating Jaffa Cakes,” Tim informed Dean. Pete rolled his eyes.
“I suppose you want some,” he said, annoyed.
“You’ll learn to love us,” Dean informed him, picking up the packet of Jaffa Cakes. Pete raised an eyebrow but didn’t pass any comment, allowing the two men to divide the Jaffa Cakes between the three of them.
“Now we need a drink…” Tim mused and he and Dean began to scan the room once more.
“Who’s the kid?” Dean asked, not wanting to dash her hopes.
“Now Dean, be nice!”
“I’m always nice!” Dean grinned and the girl laughed.
“Why don’t you go over there and bother Tim. He’s going up for Munkustrap too,” she said with a smirk and she moved over to sit on a table with her new dancer friend. Dean turned slowly to face the man who had been pointed out to him. It was the same wide-faced man who he had spotted earlier.
The two men walked towards each other, meeting in the middle of the room. Each looked the other up and down cynically.
“Dean,” Dean informed the man bluntly.
“Tim,” the man replied, shaking his slightly shaggy brown hair out of his eyes and taking in Dean’s closely shaven head with scepticism.
“I’ve just finished a European tour and my voice goes before me. Sometimes literally,” Dean informed Tim. Tim nodded thoughtfully as they continued to eye each other up.
“I’ve been in several dance companies. My ballet and dance skills don’t leave anything to be desired,” Tim informed Dean. They stood in silence, looking each other up and down some more despite having taken in all there was to see.
Then Dean folded his arms, nodding his head as if in answer to a question he had asked himself.
“You’re ok,” he said, offering Tim his hand to shake. Tim grinned, shaking his hand firmly. The two men both folded their arms now.
“Time for food I think,” Tim said brightly.
“Agreed. What’ve you got?” Dean asked. Both men delved in to their pockets and both produced a large green apple. Dean looked at his apple and then at the one Tim was holding.
“All that was left in the fridge,” they said in unison, and then they laughed.
“We can work with it…” Dean said, scanning the room for anyone with food.
“That guy’s eating,” Tim informed him.
They both looked at the man Tim had pointed out. He had shoulder-length, dark brown hair and he sat on a table to one side of the room with his legs crossed. Tim and Dean exchanged a glance.
“You don’t think…” Tim said.
“Another Munkustrap. Got to be,” Dean replied and they both tensed slightly. The man wore his long hair loose, implying he wasn’t intending on any especially hard dance routines and in his pocket Dean could clearly see a packet of throat sweets hinting towards another Munkustrap hoping to get through on singing skills. But there was clearly a bobble around his wrist which meant he could well be intending to tie his hair back when it came time to dance and his dance bag looked well worn hinting towards another Munkustrap hoping to get through on his dance skills.
“Throat sweets…singing ability” Tim noted.
“Dance bag…dance skills” Dean said quickly.
“You don’t think he might be equal in both do you?” Tim asked. Dean took a breath.
“I say we investigate,” he said and they walked over to the man.
“You going up for Munkustrap?” Dean asked immediately. The man put down what he was eating, looking at Dean.
“Yeah. What of it?” he shrugged.
“What’s your name?” Tim asked.
“Pete. Why?”
“Dancer or singer?” Dean cut in.
“Bit of both. Why do you two care anyway?” Pete frowned. Tim and Dean exchanged a glance.
“You’re with us. Now, what’re you eating?” Dean asked.
“With you? What?”
“He’s eating Jaffa Cakes,” Tim informed Dean. Pete rolled his eyes.
“I suppose you want some,” he said, annoyed.
“You’ll learn to love us,” Dean informed him, picking up the packet of Jaffa Cakes. Pete raised an eyebrow but didn’t pass any comment, allowing the two men to divide the Jaffa Cakes between the three of them.
“Now we need a drink…” Tim mused and he and Dean began to scan the room once more.
Callum watched as his friend walked away, then looked back at Zoë who was relating to him the story of her first performance as Victoria in the West End production of Cats. Then she paused.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, you don’t want to hear me going on do you! I’m just a little excitable today! Here, tell me something about yourself!”
“I…”
“Have you seen the musical before? I love it myself…although I never saw it before I was in it. Which is odd since I adore cats!”
“I’m allergic to cats…” Callum mused, seemingly to himself. Zoë stopped, a look of incomprehension on her face. Then her expression softened and she practically threw her arms around him.
“Aw, that’s a shame…is it all domestic animals or just the cats? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask. Where’s Dean?! Has he been in already?!” she gushed. Callum glanced longingly at the exit sign. He had never met this woman before, he had no clue where the hell Dean was and he couldn’t see where Chris, Zak and Amelie had vanished to. Despite her evidently sweet nature he couldn’t help but be bemused by the way in which her mind seemed to be moving at a mile a minute.
“Zoë?” called the girl with the clipboard. Callum tried to hide the fact she had made him jump only to be made to jump again as both Zoës responded to the call.
“Yes??” came two voices at once. Lin blinked and Callum clutched at the nearest steady object as he tried to slow his heart rate only to jump once more as it turned out the steady object was Chris. Goodness knew where he had come from.
Lin looked from one Zoë to the other. They both had kindly faces and sweet smiles and the only noticeable difference between the two at first glance was that one had dark hair and the other had blonde. Lin frowned, looking down at her clipboard.
“How did two Zoës get in here?!” she asked Kevin.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, you don’t want to hear me going on do you! I’m just a little excitable today! Here, tell me something about yourself!”
“I…”
“Have you seen the musical before? I love it myself…although I never saw it before I was in it. Which is odd since I adore cats!”
“I’m allergic to cats…” Callum mused, seemingly to himself. Zoë stopped, a look of incomprehension on her face. Then her expression softened and she practically threw her arms around him.
“Aw, that’s a shame…is it all domestic animals or just the cats? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask. Where’s Dean?! Has he been in already?!” she gushed. Callum glanced longingly at the exit sign. He had never met this woman before, he had no clue where the hell Dean was and he couldn’t see where Chris, Zak and Amelie had vanished to. Despite her evidently sweet nature he couldn’t help but be bemused by the way in which her mind seemed to be moving at a mile a minute.
“Zoë?” called the girl with the clipboard. Callum tried to hide the fact she had made him jump only to be made to jump again as both Zoës responded to the call.
“Yes??” came two voices at once. Lin blinked and Callum clutched at the nearest steady object as he tried to slow his heart rate only to jump once more as it turned out the steady object was Chris. Goodness knew where he had come from.
Lin looked from one Zoë to the other. They both had kindly faces and sweet smiles and the only noticeable difference between the two at first glance was that one had dark hair and the other had blonde. Lin frowned, looking down at her clipboard.
“How did two Zoës get in here?!” she asked Kevin.
“Has anyone seen my mum?” Kevin asked suddenly. Zak frowned.
“Let me guess…blonde hair…about so high. Quite bouncy?” he asked. Kevin paused a moment, then nodded.
“Could be…” he shrugged.
“Yeah, she went to the chippy with Al…well, I say with Al. But actually she didn’t go with Al at all. She went entirely of her own accord. And ages ago. Al went to the chippy entirely of…well my own accord. I wanted chips, but I’m a lazy sod so he went for me,” Zak grinned brightly. Kevin peered over in the general direction of the chip shop.
“Lin what time is it?” he asked without looking away. Lin looked around for any means of telling the time, leaning over and reading off Zak’s watch.
“It’s twenty minutes until we have to be back inside,” she replied, watching the smallish silhouette of Alex Durrant emerging from the mass of people crowding outside the chip shop. Zak grinned.
“Ta mate!” he called over, waving money in the air for Alex to take when he got there.
Lin wondered briefly if Zak had any fear of being mugged as he sat in the middle of a pavement in London, listening to an mp3 and waving money in the air and then she realised two things. Firstly, Zak probably feared very little and the stuff he did fear he probably drowned out with exclamation marks. Secondly, Zak had the muscles of a dancer and an acrobat, was sitting next to Kevin who also had the muscles of a dancer and an acrobat and Zak had befriended Alex who also had the muscles of a dancer and an acrobat. So, generally, there was probably very little fear in his mind that any stick-like criminal could rob him of his chip-money, his music or indeed both.
Alex smirked, taking the money quickly then handing Zak the chips.
“You couldn’t have done that yourself? Even possibly?” he questioned, sitting down on the other side of Zak.
“Nope! Not even a possibility! I’m far too special!!” Zak grinned.
“Let me guess…blonde hair…about so high. Quite bouncy?” he asked. Kevin paused a moment, then nodded.
“Could be…” he shrugged.
“Yeah, she went to the chippy with Al…well, I say with Al. But actually she didn’t go with Al at all. She went entirely of her own accord. And ages ago. Al went to the chippy entirely of…well my own accord. I wanted chips, but I’m a lazy sod so he went for me,” Zak grinned brightly. Kevin peered over in the general direction of the chip shop.
“Lin what time is it?” he asked without looking away. Lin looked around for any means of telling the time, leaning over and reading off Zak’s watch.
“It’s twenty minutes until we have to be back inside,” she replied, watching the smallish silhouette of Alex Durrant emerging from the mass of people crowding outside the chip shop. Zak grinned.
“Ta mate!” he called over, waving money in the air for Alex to take when he got there.
Lin wondered briefly if Zak had any fear of being mugged as he sat in the middle of a pavement in London, listening to an mp3 and waving money in the air and then she realised two things. Firstly, Zak probably feared very little and the stuff he did fear he probably drowned out with exclamation marks. Secondly, Zak had the muscles of a dancer and an acrobat, was sitting next to Kevin who also had the muscles of a dancer and an acrobat and Zak had befriended Alex who also had the muscles of a dancer and an acrobat. So, generally, there was probably very little fear in his mind that any stick-like criminal could rob him of his chip-money, his music or indeed both.
Alex smirked, taking the money quickly then handing Zak the chips.
“You couldn’t have done that yourself? Even possibly?” he questioned, sitting down on the other side of Zak.
“Nope! Not even a possibility! I’m far too special!!” Zak grinned.
Suddenly, John spun round sharply (turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees), flailed and fell over backwards as a blur in a brown coat raced through the door, not stopping until it reached the wall on the other side of the room which the man hit with deliberate force as a sign of victory and he then proceeded to bounce around chanting something along the lines of ‘I win!’ repeatedly.
Lorraine blinked, watching the bouncy young man for a second than gasping and looking over at John. She jumped down off the window sill she had been perched on (it was only low but her legs didn’t even come close to reaching the ground) and rushed over to his side.
“Are you alright?!” she asked. John blinked, then frowned, then turned slowly to watch as the man continued to bounce around in small circles, chanting. Lorraine followed his gaze and smiled.
“I think he’s excited…” she commented.
“Oh god…I wasn’t expecting that…” John said after a moment, shaking himself slightly and standing up. Lorraine stood too, her full height considerably smaller than John’s.
“Oh sweetheart…you should have seen that coming,” Lorraine laughed playfully, dusting him down. John grinned.
“Yes…peering around doorways probably wasn’t the best strategy, especially not considering how excitable most people we’ve met today have been,” he laughed and Lorraine gave his middle a quick squeeze. John paused in thought as the Glaswegian wrapped her arms around his stomach.
“You’re very small…” he observed aloud. Lorraine laughed, though it was muffled by his jacket.
Lorraine blinked, watching the bouncy young man for a second than gasping and looking over at John. She jumped down off the window sill she had been perched on (it was only low but her legs didn’t even come close to reaching the ground) and rushed over to his side.
“Are you alright?!” she asked. John blinked, then frowned, then turned slowly to watch as the man continued to bounce around in small circles, chanting. Lorraine followed his gaze and smiled.
“I think he’s excited…” she commented.
“Oh god…I wasn’t expecting that…” John said after a moment, shaking himself slightly and standing up. Lorraine stood too, her full height considerably smaller than John’s.
“Oh sweetheart…you should have seen that coming,” Lorraine laughed playfully, dusting him down. John grinned.
“Yes…peering around doorways probably wasn’t the best strategy, especially not considering how excitable most people we’ve met today have been,” he laughed and Lorraine gave his middle a quick squeeze. John paused in thought as the Glaswegian wrapped her arms around his stomach.
“You’re very small…” he observed aloud. Lorraine laughed, though it was muffled by his jacket.
“Stop treating me like a novice Scotsman!” Zak exclaimed as John performed another dance step and looked at Zak in a ‘beat that’ manner. John shrugged.
“Well, what can I say, I’m amazing!” he joked. Zak rolled his eyes.
“What can you do that I can’t then?!!” he demanded.
“Jazz, tap, ballet, musical theatre, musical comedy…badminton, I’m very good at that! Um…fencing, horse riding, climbing, skiing…rollerblading…”
“You can rollerblade?!!” Zak spluttered with laughter. John pushed him away in mock offence.
“I’ll have you know I’m talent on wheels!” he informed Zak brightly and Zak laughed.
“Then what you doing auditioning for Cats? You should be in Starlight Express mate!” he put in.
“Well, what can I say, I’m amazing!” he joked. Zak rolled his eyes.
“What can you do that I can’t then?!!” he demanded.
“Jazz, tap, ballet, musical theatre, musical comedy…badminton, I’m very good at that! Um…fencing, horse riding, climbing, skiing…rollerblading…”
“You can rollerblade?!!” Zak spluttered with laughter. John pushed him away in mock offence.
“I’ll have you know I’m talent on wheels!” he informed Zak brightly and Zak laughed.
“Then what you doing auditioning for Cats? You should be in Starlight Express mate!” he put in.
“God, you’re tiny mate!” he smirked as a friendly tease. Alex laughed slightly, pulling a face of half-hearted outrage.
“Charming! I’m not that small, and you’re not that much taller. Besides, it makes me all the more adorable!” Alex said with a grin. Zak took a gulp from his pint and laughed.
“Well sorry mate, but it’s not working!”
“Not adorable to you, fool! To the ladies!” Alex nodded, trying to keep a straight face. Zak nodded too, struggling similarly to keep his expression serious.
“Yeah, well, whatever mate,” he said at last.
“Hello kitties!” an Irish voice interrupted suddenly.
“Meow?” Alex responded, turning round to see who had joined them. Rachel Ensor was pleased with this reaction and she looked at Alex with amusement.
“Isn’t he adorable!” Rachel laughed, pointing at Alex with the same hand she held her cigarettes, her other hand unable to move as it was gripped around her drink.
“Did you pay her to do that?” Zak asked Alex, who shrugged.
“What can I say? I’m amazing!” he grinned.
“Mind if I join you boys?” Rachel asked, slipping in to the free seat. Zak and Alex shrugged and nodded.
“I recognised you from the call-backs, couldn’t help but make a beeline!” Rachel continued, shaking off her coat and removing her scarf. Zak beamed at her, happy to have company.
“More the merrier! I’m Zak Nemorin and this here is Alexander Durrant!” he grinned.
“Alexander Durrant?! No one’s called me that since primary school! Zakery!” Alex spluttered, setting his pint down.
“Aw, come on! Someone must have done! It’s just too cute!” Rachel smirked.
“He’s now silently damning his cute little kitten face!” Zak teased. Alex pulled his kitten-pout, used many a time in the last Cats tour when Bill Bailey felt in the mood for a sulk. Rachel smiled, then put down her drink in order to properly introduce herself.
“I’m Rachel Ensor, but please, call me Rach!”.
“Al or Alex…or the Nemorin gets it!” Alex grinned, giving Zak a slight push. Rachel grinned.
“Please tell me you’re single! And if not, please say you have a brother!” she laughed.
“I have two diddy sisters…but I don’t think they’re your type!” he smiled. Rachel sighed.
“Ah well, it was worth a try!”
“Hey, I never said I wasn’t single!” Alex pointed out.
“Charming! I’m not that small, and you’re not that much taller. Besides, it makes me all the more adorable!” Alex said with a grin. Zak took a gulp from his pint and laughed.
“Well sorry mate, but it’s not working!”
“Not adorable to you, fool! To the ladies!” Alex nodded, trying to keep a straight face. Zak nodded too, struggling similarly to keep his expression serious.
“Yeah, well, whatever mate,” he said at last.
“Hello kitties!” an Irish voice interrupted suddenly.
“Meow?” Alex responded, turning round to see who had joined them. Rachel Ensor was pleased with this reaction and she looked at Alex with amusement.
“Isn’t he adorable!” Rachel laughed, pointing at Alex with the same hand she held her cigarettes, her other hand unable to move as it was gripped around her drink.
“Did you pay her to do that?” Zak asked Alex, who shrugged.
“What can I say? I’m amazing!” he grinned.
“Mind if I join you boys?” Rachel asked, slipping in to the free seat. Zak and Alex shrugged and nodded.
“I recognised you from the call-backs, couldn’t help but make a beeline!” Rachel continued, shaking off her coat and removing her scarf. Zak beamed at her, happy to have company.
“More the merrier! I’m Zak Nemorin and this here is Alexander Durrant!” he grinned.
“Alexander Durrant?! No one’s called me that since primary school! Zakery!” Alex spluttered, setting his pint down.
“Aw, come on! Someone must have done! It’s just too cute!” Rachel smirked.
“He’s now silently damning his cute little kitten face!” Zak teased. Alex pulled his kitten-pout, used many a time in the last Cats tour when Bill Bailey felt in the mood for a sulk. Rachel smiled, then put down her drink in order to properly introduce herself.
“I’m Rachel Ensor, but please, call me Rach!”.
“Al or Alex…or the Nemorin gets it!” Alex grinned, giving Zak a slight push. Rachel grinned.
“Please tell me you’re single! And if not, please say you have a brother!” she laughed.
“I have two diddy sisters…but I don’t think they’re your type!” he smiled. Rachel sighed.
“Ah well, it was worth a try!”
“Hey, I never said I wasn’t single!” Alex pointed out.
He thrashed around, hitting out at where he was sure his alarm clock would be, though it certainly didn’t feel like his alarm clock underneath his hand. Never the less, he carried on slapping. A more alert, less hung-over Alex would probably have done several things differently. He probably would have realised he was asleep on a sofa, he probably would have realised the ringing was his mobile and hopefully he would have heard the sound of someone being slapped repeatedly in the face, coinciding with the thrashes he made for the snooze button.
“Mnrrg!” was the protest (followed by a thud) which finally forced Alex to open his eyes and fight against the objectionable light of morning to realise that for the past minute he had been repeatedly slapping Graham Hurman in the face. Graham turned over now, only to discover that the coffee table was not wide enough for such a manoeuvre and he quickly came crashing to the floor however he still did not wake up. Alex sighed and fought against the pain in his head, slowly opening his eyes to focus better on where he was.
“Mnrrg!” was the protest (followed by a thud) which finally forced Alex to open his eyes and fight against the objectionable light of morning to realise that for the past minute he had been repeatedly slapping Graham Hurman in the face. Graham turned over now, only to discover that the coffee table was not wide enough for such a manoeuvre and he quickly came crashing to the floor however he still did not wake up. Alex sighed and fought against the pain in his head, slowly opening his eyes to focus better on where he was.
Extracts From: The Missing Half
The missing half was a strange blend of drama and light-heartedness that stemmed from my love of putting my favourite characters in a story I'm writing through the absolute worst situations! In The Missing Half, the opening of a new tour of Cats is brought to a screeching halt when one of the cast gets badly injured during tech and ends up in hospital.
She made her way up the stairs, looking at the signs which had been selotaped to the dressing room doors earlier, each one listing several names next to poorly spelt character names, until she came to the door she was looking for.
She knocked softly and suddenly the door burst open.
“Dawn!!” exclaimed the person in front of her. She blinked for a moment as the grinning man proceeded to pull her in to a manly hug, slapping her on the back.
“Great to see you again!! I was just telling John about what I got up to playing his part last tour! Come on, be honest, who’s the best Skimble?” Zak questioned brightly. Dawn laughed.
“You are NOT going to make me answer that,” she said, shaking her head. Zak pouted, giving her one more slap on the shoulder for good measure before bounding off to the next dressing room.
“Dawny!” came another bright voice. John McManus lifted himself out of his chair, putting down the brushes he had been organising and quickly walking over to the door. He instantly pulled Dawn properly in to the room, hugging her tightly.
He had warm brown eyes, brown hair and a ten thousand watt smile. Bright, caring, crazily enthusiastic but guilty of possessing a vicious streak; the strangely Mediterranean looking Scotsman was a much adored, if also much teased, member of the cast. He was returning to the tour to resume his role and improvise his way around the country once more and Dawn had never been so glad to see a name on a cast list in all her life.
“I can’t believe you’re here!! I’m so pleased to see you!! It’s been months! No! Years!! Oh…it’s been a lifetime!! How are we?! What have you been up to?? I’ve been all over the shop! Did another tour, bits and pieces in the West End. But you know me, can’t stay put for long! You never did say, how’ve you been?!” John grinned at her, waving his arms for emphasis and seeming not to pause for breath.
Dawn opened her mouth to answer then John suddenly started up again.
“Oh it is nice to see you! Come here! Give me a hug!! Oh darling! It’s so lovely of you to come find me!!” he enthused in his lively Edinburgh accent, suddenly pulling her in to another hug then releasing her once her body was all but starved of oxygen. He beamed at her, gently tugging her over to his chair and offering her the chair next to it.
Dawn laughed, sitting down and making herself comfortable before he asked her any more questions he wasn’t expecting answers for.
“Oh god! Listen to me wittering away not letting you speak! Haven’t got a fucking clue sometimes have I!! How are you?!” he asked as he sat down opposite her.
“I’m good…well, no. I’m brilliant actually! Life’s being good to me. Anyway, how are you?” she smiled.
“Me?! Oh I’m on top of the world!! I’ll probably be in physio by tomorrow now I’ve said that though!!” John grinned.
She knocked softly and suddenly the door burst open.
“Dawn!!” exclaimed the person in front of her. She blinked for a moment as the grinning man proceeded to pull her in to a manly hug, slapping her on the back.
“Great to see you again!! I was just telling John about what I got up to playing his part last tour! Come on, be honest, who’s the best Skimble?” Zak questioned brightly. Dawn laughed.
“You are NOT going to make me answer that,” she said, shaking her head. Zak pouted, giving her one more slap on the shoulder for good measure before bounding off to the next dressing room.
“Dawny!” came another bright voice. John McManus lifted himself out of his chair, putting down the brushes he had been organising and quickly walking over to the door. He instantly pulled Dawn properly in to the room, hugging her tightly.
He had warm brown eyes, brown hair and a ten thousand watt smile. Bright, caring, crazily enthusiastic but guilty of possessing a vicious streak; the strangely Mediterranean looking Scotsman was a much adored, if also much teased, member of the cast. He was returning to the tour to resume his role and improvise his way around the country once more and Dawn had never been so glad to see a name on a cast list in all her life.
“I can’t believe you’re here!! I’m so pleased to see you!! It’s been months! No! Years!! Oh…it’s been a lifetime!! How are we?! What have you been up to?? I’ve been all over the shop! Did another tour, bits and pieces in the West End. But you know me, can’t stay put for long! You never did say, how’ve you been?!” John grinned at her, waving his arms for emphasis and seeming not to pause for breath.
Dawn opened her mouth to answer then John suddenly started up again.
“Oh it is nice to see you! Come here! Give me a hug!! Oh darling! It’s so lovely of you to come find me!!” he enthused in his lively Edinburgh accent, suddenly pulling her in to another hug then releasing her once her body was all but starved of oxygen. He beamed at her, gently tugging her over to his chair and offering her the chair next to it.
Dawn laughed, sitting down and making herself comfortable before he asked her any more questions he wasn’t expecting answers for.
“Oh god! Listen to me wittering away not letting you speak! Haven’t got a fucking clue sometimes have I!! How are you?!” he asked as he sat down opposite her.
“I’m good…well, no. I’m brilliant actually! Life’s being good to me. Anyway, how are you?” she smiled.
“Me?! Oh I’m on top of the world!! I’ll probably be in physio by tomorrow now I’ve said that though!!” John grinned.
“What? Oh! I mean yes! That’s me. Mistoffelees,” he said, now standing up. Ryan smiled, before sliding back down to floor level and curling himself in to a cat-like position. Fergus proceeded to restage most of the cast and at the top of the auditorium Dawn frantically pressed buttons to keep up with the new positioning.
“Are we quite finished?! My joy face is wearing thin and I think John might do his back in if we leave Nick waiting in the old pipe for much longer,” Dean teased. John pulled an exaggerated face of outrage at his friend and Dean chuckled.
“Ok, ok. Fine. You don’t have to act it. Just stand it. Happy?” Fergus sighed and Dean nodded.
“Oh very,” he reassured the resident director. Fergus nodded, just about hiding his smirk, then turned round.
“Lighting ready?” he called out and Dawn nodded, jumping suddenly as all the stage lights went out and the auditorium was flooded with light.
“Doesn’t seem very ready to me. Or are we restaging?” Dean asked with a smirk. Dawn frowned, studying the buttons in front of her then coming to the conclusion that this mishap was not her fault and flopping back in to her chair.
“Come on, in to the auditorium. I’m sure the Jellicle Ball will look brilliant if we all just line up in row Double B,” Dean grinned, ducking as Fergus swotted at him.
“Am I not helping?” he asked cheerily and Fergus couldn’t help but let out the laugh he’d been holding.
“I think Nick’s passed out…” Zak said unhelpfully, peering in to the old pipe from his restaged position on top of it.
“No, you just can’t see him because THE LIGHTS ARE ALL OUT!” Fergus suddenly shouted, though he sounded more like he was making a point than expressing actual anger.
“Can you sort this out??” Fergus demanded of Dawn who was sitting watching John slowly unpick his shirt hem with amusement. She looked up at Fergus’ ad-dress and shrugged.
“Not my problem,” she said.
“You were so eager to please last tour…now you’re just like all the rest of those techies!” Dean said, shaking his head. Dawn stuck out her tongue at him and he grinned back.
A door at the back suddenly creaked open and a women in a theatre staff uniform peered around it.
“Sorry about that…some sort of short circuit. It should be fixed in a minute. Electricians are in today,” she informed Dawn, seemingly unaware of the many pairs of eyes watching her from the stage.
Mere moments after the woman disappeared the lights flickered back and all was once more dark in the auditorium. But Dawn found, to her dismay, that she would have to reset all the lights to how they were before instead of watching John as he realised that if he pulled much more thread from his shirt he would end up shirtless by the end of the lighting call.
“STOP!!” Fergus suddenly exclaimed. Dawn jumped and John yanked a massive piece of cotton from his shirt whilst everyone else simply blinked.
“It’s perfect!!” Fergus insisted and Dawn slowly retracted her hand from the panel in front of her.
“Are we quite finished?! My joy face is wearing thin and I think John might do his back in if we leave Nick waiting in the old pipe for much longer,” Dean teased. John pulled an exaggerated face of outrage at his friend and Dean chuckled.
“Ok, ok. Fine. You don’t have to act it. Just stand it. Happy?” Fergus sighed and Dean nodded.
“Oh very,” he reassured the resident director. Fergus nodded, just about hiding his smirk, then turned round.
“Lighting ready?” he called out and Dawn nodded, jumping suddenly as all the stage lights went out and the auditorium was flooded with light.
“Doesn’t seem very ready to me. Or are we restaging?” Dean asked with a smirk. Dawn frowned, studying the buttons in front of her then coming to the conclusion that this mishap was not her fault and flopping back in to her chair.
“Come on, in to the auditorium. I’m sure the Jellicle Ball will look brilliant if we all just line up in row Double B,” Dean grinned, ducking as Fergus swotted at him.
“Am I not helping?” he asked cheerily and Fergus couldn’t help but let out the laugh he’d been holding.
“I think Nick’s passed out…” Zak said unhelpfully, peering in to the old pipe from his restaged position on top of it.
“No, you just can’t see him because THE LIGHTS ARE ALL OUT!” Fergus suddenly shouted, though he sounded more like he was making a point than expressing actual anger.
“Can you sort this out??” Fergus demanded of Dawn who was sitting watching John slowly unpick his shirt hem with amusement. She looked up at Fergus’ ad-dress and shrugged.
“Not my problem,” she said.
“You were so eager to please last tour…now you’re just like all the rest of those techies!” Dean said, shaking his head. Dawn stuck out her tongue at him and he grinned back.
A door at the back suddenly creaked open and a women in a theatre staff uniform peered around it.
“Sorry about that…some sort of short circuit. It should be fixed in a minute. Electricians are in today,” she informed Dawn, seemingly unaware of the many pairs of eyes watching her from the stage.
Mere moments after the woman disappeared the lights flickered back and all was once more dark in the auditorium. But Dawn found, to her dismay, that she would have to reset all the lights to how they were before instead of watching John as he realised that if he pulled much more thread from his shirt he would end up shirtless by the end of the lighting call.
“STOP!!” Fergus suddenly exclaimed. Dawn jumped and John yanked a massive piece of cotton from his shirt whilst everyone else simply blinked.
“It’s perfect!!” Fergus insisted and Dawn slowly retracted her hand from the panel in front of her.
When they finally reached the tour digs that had been intended to be shared between Ryan, Trevor and Dean, no one seemed too keen to leave.
Dean had instantly collapsed on to the sofa and Lin and quickly scrambled across to join him, curling up and resting her head in his lap. John shoved his hands in to his pockets, wishing he had something to do.
“Anyone want any tea or anything?” he asked with a sigh, feeling ridiculous just saying it. Tea? Was that the best he could do? Somehow tea seemed so inadequate at a time like this, no matter how many times his granny had promised him when he was younger that a good cup of tea solved everything. He realised now she was probably just tricking him in to learning how to make the stuff so he would make it for her on command.
Still feeling a little foolish, he chewed on his lip and looked around the so far undisturbed digs.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he said quietly, not intending for anyone to hear him.
“Sorry John…I’d love a cup please mate,” Dean said, taking John by surprise. John smiled at him.
“Of course, I’ll just go get the shopping out the boot then,” he replied, disappearing out of the room. By the time he returned, everyone else had fallen asleep.
Dean had instantly collapsed on to the sofa and Lin and quickly scrambled across to join him, curling up and resting her head in his lap. John shoved his hands in to his pockets, wishing he had something to do.
“Anyone want any tea or anything?” he asked with a sigh, feeling ridiculous just saying it. Tea? Was that the best he could do? Somehow tea seemed so inadequate at a time like this, no matter how many times his granny had promised him when he was younger that a good cup of tea solved everything. He realised now she was probably just tricking him in to learning how to make the stuff so he would make it for her on command.
Still feeling a little foolish, he chewed on his lip and looked around the so far undisturbed digs.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he said quietly, not intending for anyone to hear him.
“Sorry John…I’d love a cup please mate,” Dean said, taking John by surprise. John smiled at him.
“Of course, I’ll just go get the shopping out the boot then,” he replied, disappearing out of the room. By the time he returned, everyone else had fallen asleep.
“Oh good, you’re up. Your tea’s ready,” came a voice, and Dean turned his head to see John emerging from the kitchen with a steaming mug of gigantic proportions.
“Struth John, what you got there? Loch Tea?!” he smirked, still sounding slightly sleepy. He’d had trouble sleeping last night, after everything that had happened.
“Careful Dean, John giveth, John taketh away!” John laughed slightly, handing Dean the mug. Dean grinned and took a sip.
“Ta mate. I felt in need of that,” Dean said, relaxing back against the sofa a little.
“Well, you can thank Granny McManus for that. And for breakfast. She always taught me it was the…”
“Most important meal of the day! Quite right too. Send Granny my regards,” Dean smiled back and John laughed.
Dean shifted slightly, gently easing Lin across on to the sofa and getting up to follow John in to the kitchen.
“Fancy going on strike?” he asked casually, entering the kitchen as John set out three plates of full English then turned swiftly back to the cupboards and set about making pancakes.
“Strike?” he frowned, setting out the ingredients.
“Opening night tonight,” Dean said quietly, staring in to Loch Tea thoughtfully. He saw John’s determinedly sunny face crack slightly upon remembering what had happened yesterday.
“Yes…yes I think that’s probably a good idea…look, could you wake the others up, breakfast’s going cold,” he said quickly, changing the subject. Dean nodded silently, and went to wake the others for breakfast.
“Struth John, what you got there? Loch Tea?!” he smirked, still sounding slightly sleepy. He’d had trouble sleeping last night, after everything that had happened.
“Careful Dean, John giveth, John taketh away!” John laughed slightly, handing Dean the mug. Dean grinned and took a sip.
“Ta mate. I felt in need of that,” Dean said, relaxing back against the sofa a little.
“Well, you can thank Granny McManus for that. And for breakfast. She always taught me it was the…”
“Most important meal of the day! Quite right too. Send Granny my regards,” Dean smiled back and John laughed.
Dean shifted slightly, gently easing Lin across on to the sofa and getting up to follow John in to the kitchen.
“Fancy going on strike?” he asked casually, entering the kitchen as John set out three plates of full English then turned swiftly back to the cupboards and set about making pancakes.
“Strike?” he frowned, setting out the ingredients.
“Opening night tonight,” Dean said quietly, staring in to Loch Tea thoughtfully. He saw John’s determinedly sunny face crack slightly upon remembering what had happened yesterday.
“Yes…yes I think that’s probably a good idea…look, could you wake the others up, breakfast’s going cold,” he said quickly, changing the subject. Dean nodded silently, and went to wake the others for breakfast.
John McManus lived his life by three basic principles. Firstly: live life to the full with no apologies and no regrets. Secondly: no matter what, the show must go on. And finally, and perhaps most importantly of all: any problem, no matter how great, could be solved with a good mug of sugary tea. And at this moment in time, two of these beliefs were being tested.
Of course, he hadn’t had time to offer Ryan a mug of tea. But something told him that even if he had, Ryan wouldn’t exactly have sat up and said ‘Oo, yes please!’ as if nothing had happened. Granny McManus would be appalled, he thought, and he vowed never to tell her.
He glanced around the wings, sighing at the absence of the usual opening night buzz. Even Zak was quiet, standing by the doors to the foyer and absentmindedly stretching his leg up to touch his ear. It still amazed John that dancers could do that. If John wanted to do it, there’d be nothing absentminded about it. It would be an agonising pull and a trip to physio in the afternoon.
Next to Zak sat Nic who had practically had to be wrestled in to his Alonzo costume. That wasn’t right: an understudy determined not to perform. The world, John thought, was clearly coming to an end. Luke and Lee sat slumped next to him, murmuring quietly and with furrowed brows, glowering harshly at the sound of the ten minute call.
Of course, he hadn’t had time to offer Ryan a mug of tea. But something told him that even if he had, Ryan wouldn’t exactly have sat up and said ‘Oo, yes please!’ as if nothing had happened. Granny McManus would be appalled, he thought, and he vowed never to tell her.
He glanced around the wings, sighing at the absence of the usual opening night buzz. Even Zak was quiet, standing by the doors to the foyer and absentmindedly stretching his leg up to touch his ear. It still amazed John that dancers could do that. If John wanted to do it, there’d be nothing absentminded about it. It would be an agonising pull and a trip to physio in the afternoon.
Next to Zak sat Nic who had practically had to be wrestled in to his Alonzo costume. That wasn’t right: an understudy determined not to perform. The world, John thought, was clearly coming to an end. Luke and Lee sat slumped next to him, murmuring quietly and with furrowed brows, glowering harshly at the sound of the ten minute call.
As the smell of burning toast began to fill the room, Dean continued to watch the toaster and crunch away at his apple, setting the precedent for all to do nothing to prevent the toaster from going any further on its mission to waste good bread.
“Someone should fix that,” Dean said simply, continuing to watch impassively as smoke began to curl out of the toaster and the smell of burning grew a little stronger. Sally and Carrie, who sat chatting on the floor in front of the sofa, glanced over at the toaster themselves for a moment, eyeing it thoughtfully.
“It’s your toast. You fix it,” Carrie shrugged, turning away again. Dean frowned at his friend.
“Don’t we travel with a team of electricians?! Can’t one of them fix it?!” he asked her, producing another apple. Keeping his level gaze on the toaster, he bit in to the fresh apple and effortlessly tossed the other apple’s core in to the bin without looking. Dean had clearly given up on getting any toast. Trevor smirked, looking back out of the window.
“Someone should fix that,” Dean said simply, continuing to watch impassively as smoke began to curl out of the toaster and the smell of burning grew a little stronger. Sally and Carrie, who sat chatting on the floor in front of the sofa, glanced over at the toaster themselves for a moment, eyeing it thoughtfully.
“It’s your toast. You fix it,” Carrie shrugged, turning away again. Dean frowned at his friend.
“Don’t we travel with a team of electricians?! Can’t one of them fix it?!” he asked her, producing another apple. Keeping his level gaze on the toaster, he bit in to the fresh apple and effortlessly tossed the other apple’s core in to the bin without looking. Dean had clearly given up on getting any toast. Trevor smirked, looking back out of the window.
Before Trevor could respond, the door of the greenroom flew open and Chris appeared, beaming brightly.
“I’m ba-ack!” he twittered and everyone looked over at him expectantly. He stood by the door, holding a stack of chip-packets in his arms from the chippie down the road and he was still smiling brilliantly despite no one’s move to collect their own order.
“Over here please mate!” Zak called and Chris grabbed one of the packets and tossed it in Zak’s direction. It soared across the room, forcing Alex and Rachel to quickly pull back so as not to be hit. Zak, however, managed to deftly reach his arm around them and catch his order anyway.
“Ta Chris, I owe ya!” he grinned and instantly began to tuck in to his chips. The diet of dancers on tour was not always what one might expect.
Chris continued to hand out the orders until there was only his left, at which point he finally noticed the smell of burnt toast which filled the room. He paused where he stood, looking at the toaster for a moment with a frown on his face before turning to look at Dean.
“Dean darling, I think your toast’s done,” he smiled radiantly and Dean pulled a face which barely masked his amusement, tossing an apple at Chris’ head.
Chris somehow managed to catch it before it hit him and he stared at it with the sort of overdramatic disgust that only an actor can muster.
“Dean!! How could you?!!” he exclaimed. Dean looked at him confusedly.
“This is far too healthy!! Put it away!!” Chris finished before tossing the apple back to Dean and tucking in to his chips as the others laughed.
“I’m ba-ack!” he twittered and everyone looked over at him expectantly. He stood by the door, holding a stack of chip-packets in his arms from the chippie down the road and he was still smiling brilliantly despite no one’s move to collect their own order.
“Over here please mate!” Zak called and Chris grabbed one of the packets and tossed it in Zak’s direction. It soared across the room, forcing Alex and Rachel to quickly pull back so as not to be hit. Zak, however, managed to deftly reach his arm around them and catch his order anyway.
“Ta Chris, I owe ya!” he grinned and instantly began to tuck in to his chips. The diet of dancers on tour was not always what one might expect.
Chris continued to hand out the orders until there was only his left, at which point he finally noticed the smell of burnt toast which filled the room. He paused where he stood, looking at the toaster for a moment with a frown on his face before turning to look at Dean.
“Dean darling, I think your toast’s done,” he smiled radiantly and Dean pulled a face which barely masked his amusement, tossing an apple at Chris’ head.
Chris somehow managed to catch it before it hit him and he stared at it with the sort of overdramatic disgust that only an actor can muster.
“Dean!! How could you?!!” he exclaimed. Dean looked at him confusedly.
“This is far too healthy!! Put it away!!” Chris finished before tossing the apple back to Dean and tucking in to his chips as the others laughed.
The long forgotten dusk had finally risen to settle itself on the invisible peaks of the night sky, falling like a billion snowflakes all about the scattered stars as down below the air pressed its icy fingers to the city to steal its warmth as remedy to its own bitter chill.
Outside the theatre, a figure stood alone by the stage door, barely illuminated by the rough yellow glow of the solitary light. Dean watched the city pass by him from the shadows of the light, blowing softly across his hands before glancing at his watch, the silvery make-up of his character doing little to detract from the dimness of the glitter his mischievous soul usually placed so handsomely in his soft green eyes.
Above him, John leant out of a dressing room window, gazing out over the night, his dark brown eyes devoid of everything except the unremarkable orange hum of the city before him. But the two souls seemed unaware of one another, lost to everything and past caring that the biting cold was stinging their skin. John licked his lips thoughtlessly, his aberrantly hollow eyes begging the question of whether it was that he found everything on his mind or that he found nothing.
Across the car-park, the smokers huddled together . The small group of cast and crew chatted and laughed happily at everything of little consequence, blowing cigarette smoke up to the heavens without thought for the unseen mountains of night above them.
A laugh spilled out from an open window and had anyone glanced around they would have seen Gary and Callum turn away from the window to delight in the bright discussion which filled their dressing room.
Dean blew out his thoughts with a sigh, watching the mist of his breath form in front of him for a moment before turning silently and going back inside. John glanced down at the sound of the stage door banging closed, but whoever his companion had been was nowhere to be seen and so he retreated back in to his dressing room.
Outside the theatre, a figure stood alone by the stage door, barely illuminated by the rough yellow glow of the solitary light. Dean watched the city pass by him from the shadows of the light, blowing softly across his hands before glancing at his watch, the silvery make-up of his character doing little to detract from the dimness of the glitter his mischievous soul usually placed so handsomely in his soft green eyes.
Above him, John leant out of a dressing room window, gazing out over the night, his dark brown eyes devoid of everything except the unremarkable orange hum of the city before him. But the two souls seemed unaware of one another, lost to everything and past caring that the biting cold was stinging their skin. John licked his lips thoughtlessly, his aberrantly hollow eyes begging the question of whether it was that he found everything on his mind or that he found nothing.
Across the car-park, the smokers huddled together . The small group of cast and crew chatted and laughed happily at everything of little consequence, blowing cigarette smoke up to the heavens without thought for the unseen mountains of night above them.
A laugh spilled out from an open window and had anyone glanced around they would have seen Gary and Callum turn away from the window to delight in the bright discussion which filled their dressing room.
Dean blew out his thoughts with a sigh, watching the mist of his breath form in front of him for a moment before turning silently and going back inside. John glanced down at the sound of the stage door banging closed, but whoever his companion had been was nowhere to be seen and so he retreated back in to his dressing room.
“Are you making tea Alex?” John chirped, coming properly in to the room. Alex and Rachel both turned around.
“Sorry John, Lemsip,” Alex said back, sneezing as if on cue.
“Poor baby,” Rachel fussed, leaning down on his shoulder and pressing a kiss against his cheek.
“You’ve changed your tune,” Zak commented, but thankfully for him Rachel didn’t hear. John frowned.
“No tea? You lot need to get your priorities sorted!” John exclaimed, flopping in to a chair but making little move to get any tea for himself.
Dean looked over at him and laughed.
“Make it yourself John,” he said, shaking his head. John rolled his eyes.
“Go away Dean,” he dismissed in flippant teasing and Dean smiled, glancing across at Craig without John noticing.
“I suppose I could make my own,” John sighed after a moment as if he were being asked to move mountains and he heavily pushed himself out of his chair.
“Whilst you’re up, could you check who’s with Ryan tonight for me?” Dean asked as soon as John was on his feet, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the notice board.
“Check it yourself!” John said indignantly, but he made his way over to the notice board anyway.
“Oh my God!” John let out after a few moments spent staring at the notices and Dean and Craig exchanged impish grins.
“What…you’re not missing your shift are you?” Dean asked.
“Nikki’s taking the rest of the week off!! Nikki!! Of all the crew why Nikki?!” John let out in what bordered on a wail. Out of John’s sight, Alex opened his mouth to disagree with the statement, but Rachel quickly clapped her hand over his mouth as she and everyone else in the room cottoned on to the reason behind Dean and Craig’s suspiciously delighted expressions.
“Yeah…Trev and Al are going to be in a right mess by the end of the week without our favourite physio!” Craig said with an eagerness that John failed to detect.
“No physio…” John whimpered slightly, subconsciously accepting the tea Rachel handed him without noticing the mischief on her lips.
“Sorry John, Lemsip,” Alex said back, sneezing as if on cue.
“Poor baby,” Rachel fussed, leaning down on his shoulder and pressing a kiss against his cheek.
“You’ve changed your tune,” Zak commented, but thankfully for him Rachel didn’t hear. John frowned.
“No tea? You lot need to get your priorities sorted!” John exclaimed, flopping in to a chair but making little move to get any tea for himself.
Dean looked over at him and laughed.
“Make it yourself John,” he said, shaking his head. John rolled his eyes.
“Go away Dean,” he dismissed in flippant teasing and Dean smiled, glancing across at Craig without John noticing.
“I suppose I could make my own,” John sighed after a moment as if he were being asked to move mountains and he heavily pushed himself out of his chair.
“Whilst you’re up, could you check who’s with Ryan tonight for me?” Dean asked as soon as John was on his feet, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the notice board.
“Check it yourself!” John said indignantly, but he made his way over to the notice board anyway.
“Oh my God!” John let out after a few moments spent staring at the notices and Dean and Craig exchanged impish grins.
“What…you’re not missing your shift are you?” Dean asked.
“Nikki’s taking the rest of the week off!! Nikki!! Of all the crew why Nikki?!” John let out in what bordered on a wail. Out of John’s sight, Alex opened his mouth to disagree with the statement, but Rachel quickly clapped her hand over his mouth as she and everyone else in the room cottoned on to the reason behind Dean and Craig’s suspiciously delighted expressions.
“Yeah…Trev and Al are going to be in a right mess by the end of the week without our favourite physio!” Craig said with an eagerness that John failed to detect.
“No physio…” John whimpered slightly, subconsciously accepting the tea Rachel handed him without noticing the mischief on her lips.
Nikki and Lin sat outside the stage door, ignoring the cold night air and watching the city go by. They could hear the dimmed jubilation of the show behind them and they knew that if they ventured back in to the theatre then they could share in the joy. But they were enjoying the distance of the music. It was peaceful.
A hen party tottered past and Nikki couldn’t help but laugh when she thought she saw Ryan amongst the girls. The boy was too pretty for his own good. It seemed she wasn’t alone in her mistake however as Lin lifted her head slightly.
“Sometimes he hates this show,” she said so softly that for a moment Nikki wasn’t sure if she was expected to answer. Then Lin turned her head and looked at her with quietly hopeful eyes and for a few seconds Nikki found herself sitting there opening and closing her mouth and wishing she was as articulate as her old pet goldfish.
Lin smiled, shaking her head slightly and shrugging and Nikki realised Lin’s hope for an answer had been dashed. Lin murmured something imperceptible but Nikki still strained in an attempt to hear the words. It was as if the simple mention of Ryan unearthed hidden sunbeams from the whispering fog. But her efforts to hear were to no avail. The glittering brightness of the reference was gone and even Lin’s indecipherable murmurings were lost to the stillness of the night.
Nothing and everything happened at once. People clicked past, someone tripped calmly down the backstage stairs and the sound carried through an open window. But Lin and Nikki stayed still and kept guard of stage door in case the sun should come out again, the promise of Ryan’s sunbeams still resting lightly on Lin’s faintly open lips as she hovered on the brink of spilling out his defence for ever hating the show he loved so much.
“Sometimes all they can do is hate this show. It kills them…but they love it,” Nikki agreed at last. But Lin pursed her lips to smile and the promise disappeared in to the night.
A hen party tottered past and Nikki couldn’t help but laugh when she thought she saw Ryan amongst the girls. The boy was too pretty for his own good. It seemed she wasn’t alone in her mistake however as Lin lifted her head slightly.
“Sometimes he hates this show,” she said so softly that for a moment Nikki wasn’t sure if she was expected to answer. Then Lin turned her head and looked at her with quietly hopeful eyes and for a few seconds Nikki found herself sitting there opening and closing her mouth and wishing she was as articulate as her old pet goldfish.
Lin smiled, shaking her head slightly and shrugging and Nikki realised Lin’s hope for an answer had been dashed. Lin murmured something imperceptible but Nikki still strained in an attempt to hear the words. It was as if the simple mention of Ryan unearthed hidden sunbeams from the whispering fog. But her efforts to hear were to no avail. The glittering brightness of the reference was gone and even Lin’s indecipherable murmurings were lost to the stillness of the night.
Nothing and everything happened at once. People clicked past, someone tripped calmly down the backstage stairs and the sound carried through an open window. But Lin and Nikki stayed still and kept guard of stage door in case the sun should come out again, the promise of Ryan’s sunbeams still resting lightly on Lin’s faintly open lips as she hovered on the brink of spilling out his defence for ever hating the show he loved so much.
“Sometimes all they can do is hate this show. It kills them…but they love it,” Nikki agreed at last. But Lin pursed her lips to smile and the promise disappeared in to the night.
Lin drew a deep breath and took in the musky scent of stage-light air, letting it wash over her and render her powerless to do anything but smile. That scent was magical to her, that sweet, gorgeous smell that danced about in front of the spotlights and filled up almost every corner of every theatre she’d ever known. That smell always enchanted her, but she’d grown too used to it working backstage. Somehow it was more special in the auditorium.
“What brings you out here anyway?” Dawn asked, shaking Lin from her thoughts.
“Spotlight smell…” she sighed and Dawn didn’t have to ask to understand. They fell quiet again, contemplating things of little and great significance for a moment or two longer.
“You know Dean’s still being all weird…he’s been a bit better recently but…” Lin began suddenly and Dawn instinctively put a tentative hand on her friend’s shoulder.
“You should ask him…maybe now he’s perked up a bit he’ll come clean quicker. It’s worth a try, right?” she suggested. At that moment, a crackle from Leah and Dawn’s walkie-talkies interrupted them and signalled the five minute warning before Act Two began. Lin smiled and bid a hasty goodbye before jumping free of the sound desk.
As she slipped through one of the side doors, smiling a thank you at the usher who held the door for her, she was greeted by Zak (who was understudying Skimbleshanks in John’s absence.) He bounced up and down ready to surprise the audience members by creeping out before the lights went down. Behind him Dean and Loz stood waiting in a considerably less energetic fashion. Loz yawned prettily in to a red satin glove, sighing ‘Hello’ in a tired way and raising a dainty wave of her fingers with a delicate, worn-out smile.
In the backstage area, Rachel tapped her tongue piercing against her front teeth impatiently and mused aloud on what colour she should next dye her hair. Meanwhile, Craig and Alex sprawled nearby, talking quietly about which pub they should go to after the show.
“I hope I don’t have to separate any of you kittens again! Where’s Jo? I need to remind her she’s not allowed anywhere near Craig!” Fergus broke in as he appeared from behind one of the large black boxes which cluttered the backstage area. Realising he was mostly talking to himself, he quickly disappeared once more to find Jo for himself. Adam, the head electrician, dashed past ranting quietly to himself about something but recovering enough to flash a cheeky smile at Rachel who grinned back, then stuck her tongue out as she spotted the tiniest trace of envy cross over Alex’s face.
“You ok sweetie?” came a gentle voice at Lin’s side and a soft hand, shaded grey with a wrinkled glove, was laid on her arm. She didn’t need to look up, the fake red nails glued to the glove’s fingertips instantly gave away her comforter. Dianne, as Grizabella, spent more of her time with the backstage crew during performances than she did performing and her radiant smile shone in the dim light.
“Yeah. Well. No. But, you know. Things to do,” she brushed off. Dianne nodded, glancing away for a moment as Carrie and Lee slipped past swiftly to make their way on to the stage. With the lights still up, the babble of voices continued, unaware of the duo’s entrance and Dianne turned back to Lin, the dreadlocks of her costume’s coat sleeves swishing slightly against Lin’s wrist.
“Cheer up honey, enjoy the second act. I know how much you love dancing to Mistoffelees with the other backstage girlies!” she encouraged and Lin laughed.
“You only know that coz you dance with us!”
“Well yes. But I play no part in your distraction games! Poor Al was defenceless against you last night in Gus!”
“You have to admit though, it was fun to watch.”
There was a small pause as shrieks from the audience indicated Zak’s entrance in to the auditorium, followed by the laughter which indicated the more subtle approach of the interval’s other audience invaders.
“It just doesn’t feel right does it,” Dianne admitted after a moment and Lin frowned a little.
“What doesn’t?”
“This! Doing the show knowing that one of our team, our tribe, is down. Ryan’s family, bless ‘im.”
“Oh! Oh God, Di you’re so right. It’s like every show is just warm-up, you know?”
“Dress run! Press run! Anything but nearly-the-end-of-the-run!” Dianne laughed, smiling sadly.
“What brings you out here anyway?” Dawn asked, shaking Lin from her thoughts.
“Spotlight smell…” she sighed and Dawn didn’t have to ask to understand. They fell quiet again, contemplating things of little and great significance for a moment or two longer.
“You know Dean’s still being all weird…he’s been a bit better recently but…” Lin began suddenly and Dawn instinctively put a tentative hand on her friend’s shoulder.
“You should ask him…maybe now he’s perked up a bit he’ll come clean quicker. It’s worth a try, right?” she suggested. At that moment, a crackle from Leah and Dawn’s walkie-talkies interrupted them and signalled the five minute warning before Act Two began. Lin smiled and bid a hasty goodbye before jumping free of the sound desk.
As she slipped through one of the side doors, smiling a thank you at the usher who held the door for her, she was greeted by Zak (who was understudying Skimbleshanks in John’s absence.) He bounced up and down ready to surprise the audience members by creeping out before the lights went down. Behind him Dean and Loz stood waiting in a considerably less energetic fashion. Loz yawned prettily in to a red satin glove, sighing ‘Hello’ in a tired way and raising a dainty wave of her fingers with a delicate, worn-out smile.
In the backstage area, Rachel tapped her tongue piercing against her front teeth impatiently and mused aloud on what colour she should next dye her hair. Meanwhile, Craig and Alex sprawled nearby, talking quietly about which pub they should go to after the show.
“I hope I don’t have to separate any of you kittens again! Where’s Jo? I need to remind her she’s not allowed anywhere near Craig!” Fergus broke in as he appeared from behind one of the large black boxes which cluttered the backstage area. Realising he was mostly talking to himself, he quickly disappeared once more to find Jo for himself. Adam, the head electrician, dashed past ranting quietly to himself about something but recovering enough to flash a cheeky smile at Rachel who grinned back, then stuck her tongue out as she spotted the tiniest trace of envy cross over Alex’s face.
“You ok sweetie?” came a gentle voice at Lin’s side and a soft hand, shaded grey with a wrinkled glove, was laid on her arm. She didn’t need to look up, the fake red nails glued to the glove’s fingertips instantly gave away her comforter. Dianne, as Grizabella, spent more of her time with the backstage crew during performances than she did performing and her radiant smile shone in the dim light.
“Yeah. Well. No. But, you know. Things to do,” she brushed off. Dianne nodded, glancing away for a moment as Carrie and Lee slipped past swiftly to make their way on to the stage. With the lights still up, the babble of voices continued, unaware of the duo’s entrance and Dianne turned back to Lin, the dreadlocks of her costume’s coat sleeves swishing slightly against Lin’s wrist.
“Cheer up honey, enjoy the second act. I know how much you love dancing to Mistoffelees with the other backstage girlies!” she encouraged and Lin laughed.
“You only know that coz you dance with us!”
“Well yes. But I play no part in your distraction games! Poor Al was defenceless against you last night in Gus!”
“You have to admit though, it was fun to watch.”
There was a small pause as shrieks from the audience indicated Zak’s entrance in to the auditorium, followed by the laughter which indicated the more subtle approach of the interval’s other audience invaders.
“It just doesn’t feel right does it,” Dianne admitted after a moment and Lin frowned a little.
“What doesn’t?”
“This! Doing the show knowing that one of our team, our tribe, is down. Ryan’s family, bless ‘im.”
“Oh! Oh God, Di you’re so right. It’s like every show is just warm-up, you know?”
“Dress run! Press run! Anything but nearly-the-end-of-the-run!” Dianne laughed, smiling sadly.
