Summer Season on the Seafront. Katie Ginger
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a lot of paperwork to do and he much prefers being seen as the mayor, throwing his weight around and looking important, to actually doing mayor things and you know … helping.’
Sarah nodded. She knew only too well. Last year, during their campaign to save the theatre, Mayor Cunningham had been less than supportive. Now Lottie had these amazing plans for it to become a charity which would mean more funding possibilities and he was, as usual, being negative and annoying.
Slipping her handbag from her shoulder, Sarah dropped it onto a chair beside Lottie’s. ‘I’m actually starting to feel hungry now. I could murder a coffee and cake.’
‘Did someone say coffee and cake?’ asked Sid, striding in with takeaway cups and a pack of muffins. This was why Sid was a keeper.
‘Hello you,’ said Lottie, smiling as if she’d never seen him before. ‘Dragged yourself out of bed eventually then?’
‘Only for you, my darling,’ he replied in lofty tones, then handed a cup to Lottie, and one to Sarah. ‘I thought you could use this. And one of these.’ He brandished the chocolate chip muffins and Sarah nearly ripped his hand off as she grabbed them.
‘You’re an absolute star, Sid. Thank you.’
He gave his usual lopsided, cheeky grin. ‘Well, you were completely trollied last night. I’m surprised you’re upright this morning.’
‘It is a bit of a challenge,’ Sarah replied, breaking a piece off the top of the muffin and placing it in her mouth. The sweet chocolate soothed the ache behind her eyes. Lottie gave Sid a kiss on the cheek before taking a sip of her coffee. As Sarah and Lottie were nibbling their muffins, while Sid took huge gigantic mouthfuls, a few of the newer members of the Greenley Players arrived ready to rehearse their big summer play. There were only two performances, but the Greenley Players all wanted to show they could handle some Shakespeare. Lottie welcomed them just as Mrs Andrews, long time Greenley Player and prima donna, strolled in.
‘Good morning, fellow actors.’ Mrs Andrews strode down to the front in three-inch beige suede high heels and skintight cream trousers. Her long flowing cardigan billowed out behind her, as did her honey blonde hair. She paused with her back to Sarah. ‘Lottie, darling, I really must talk to you about Ariel. I’d like to play the character a little stronger than we first agreed. I just feel there’s so much I could be doing. I mean, I really think I should be playing Miranda, but still …’ Sarah flashed her eyes mischievously at Lottie. They’d heard this all before. ‘I don’t want to complain but …’
Sarah wanted to say, ‘Yes you do, Mrs Andrews. You’ve done nothing but complain since we started rehearsals.’ But she swallowed it down and shoved some more muffin in her mouth instead. Next time they were going to have to give her a leading role just to stop her moaning. Especially as Sarah had had two. She was playing Miranda now in The Tempest and had played Jasmine in Aladdin, their Christmas panto. She’d also been the lead in Much Ado About Nothing, but that didn’t count because it had been such a disaster no one wanted to think about it.
‘Well, that’s really something you need to discuss with Conner,’ said Lottie diplomatically. ‘Since he’s directing. And with Gregory, as he’s playing Prospero.’
Mrs Andrews tossed her hair over her shoulder. ‘I just want to get this sorted, Lottie. With the builders still working on the extension and all the stress with that …’ She dramatically laid a hand on her forehead. ‘I could really do with something going smoothly for a change. My talents are not being utilised at present.’
They’d heard about the ongoing saga of the two-storey extension for the last two weeks not to mention the months of wrangling with the architects, but Sarah had very little sympathy. The enormous addition to Mrs Andrews’ six-bedroom townhouse in the posh part of town was so she could have her own spin studio, complete with fancy disco lighting and expensive sound system. She didn’t teach spin, she just didn’t like working out with all the other riff-raff at the gym. Even though she used the super expensive one in town that was more like a spa.
‘I understand,’ Lottie replied, her voice neutral. ‘Just chat to Gregory when he gets here. Actually, where are Gregory and Cecil? They’re normally here by now.’
That was odd. Gregory and Cecil, owners of the town bookshop, were usually the first to arrive. Pulling her phone from her bag, Sarah checked that Gregory hadn’t sent her a message. When she looked up, Mrs Andrews had left Lottie alone, so Sarah shook her head to confirm she hadn’t heard anything. The other players were milling about chatting excitedly, and some had made their way onto the stage and were making a circle of chairs ready to read through the play. Rehearsals were at that wonderful stage where everyone was finding out about their characters and reading from the script, so it didn’t matter if you couldn’t remember all your lines. Sarah’s stomach knotted at the prospect of having to learn everything off by heart, she was really struggling with The Tempest. Gregory, who had experience of acting on the West End a long time ago, had been helping her, and she found his presence reassuring.
Just as she was about to call them, Gregory and Cecil arrived. They moved down towards the stage huddled close together, doing a weird run, skip, hop kind of thing, like over-excited children. Uncharacteristically, they gave everyone only a brief hello, rather than their usual exuberant welcome complete with air-kisses, before sitting together at the furthest end of the front row. Frowning, Sarah picked up her coffee cup and went over to them. As their whispering quietened, she felt a stab of hurt at their secrecy.
‘Hello, Sarah, darling,’ said Gregory. He and Cecil stood and kissed her on each cheek before re-taking their seats. ‘How are you?’
‘Hungover,’ she said, taking another bite of muffin. ‘But fine.’
‘Don’t talk with your mouth full, dear,’ said Cecil, and she playfully narrowed her eyes at him.
‘Another disastrous date was it?’ asked Gregory. He was wearing an exquisite linen suit, complete with open-neck shirt.
‘No – well, yes. Sort of.’
‘You can tell us all about it later,’ Gregory said, then gave Cecil a conspiratorial look.
Sarah frowned. Something was lingering in the air around Gregory and Cecil, and the coy smiles tugging at their heavily tanned faces told her they had news of some sort. She hoped they weren’t setting her up on a blind date again. Unless it was with Finn. ‘What’s got you two all excited?’ she said. ‘I haven’t seen you this worked up since we saw Kit Harrington in Othello and you were planning on throwing your pants at him.’
Gregory took a deep breath then leaned in and spoke in almost a whisper. ‘I’ve got something to tell you, but you have to keep it top secret.’
‘Okay,’ Sarah replied, hesitantly.
His eyes scanned around quickly, checking no one was listening.
‘The one and only, totally gorgeous, heartbreakingly swoon-worthy Nathaniel Hardy is currently asleep in our spare room.’ Gregory sat back with a silly grin on his face. Sarah opened her mouth, closed it, then tipped her head. Nathaniel Hardy, the famous actor?
‘Are you telling me fibs?’
‘Scout’s honour,’ Cecil replied, giving the three-fingered salute, but Sarah didn’t believe him for a minute.
‘You were never in the Scouts. You told me you refused to join because you didn’t believe in camping.’
‘Darling, why would you ever go camping when there are luxury spa hotels?’
‘Not the point,’ Sarah responded huffily. The coffee and muffin hadn’t settled in her stomach and she felt a bit sick. ‘Why don’t you tell me the truth or just say it’s private? There’s no need to tell lies.’
Gregory leaned further in and took her hand. ‘I’m not lying, my darling. This is top secret and you can’t tell anyone.’
Sarah’s