Murder in the Second Row Read Free Page B

‘Everyone else, have a
think about who you can ask for sponsorship will you? It doesn’t
have to be much and the company can put their logo on all the ads
they help pay for.’
    ‘I thought this
was supposed to be a big budget show,’ said Gazza. ‘Doesn’t sound
very well-financed to me. How am I supposed to light a show if
there’s no money to hire the gear?’
    ‘Come on
Gazza,’ said Howard. ‘We’ve got plenty of lights, and the Musical
Society will lend us a few more. Do we need any specials? A show
like this shouldn’t need anything too high-tech. I don’t suppose
the London theatre had Robo-scans in 1945 when this was first
staged.’
    ‘All right, two
grand for lighting then, but don’t expect bloody miracles.’ Gazza
tipped his battered leather cap over his eyes and slumped lower in
his armchair.
    ‘Fair enough,’
said Jessica briskly. ‘Thanks, Gazza. Have you got people to help
rig when you need them?’
    ‘If you all
keep October 22nd free, yes. Assuming the set’s ready by then.’ He
sat up and eyed Howard with what passed as a grin on his weathered
face.
    ‘Oh it’ll be
ready mate. Where do you think you’ll be spending your weekends
from now till November 5th!’
    ‘Remind me -
why do we do this again?’
    ‘For the love
of the the-ayter, dahling!’ said Clara-Jane, swirling her floral
print skirt. ‘How else will we bring culture to this town of
Philistines?’
    ‘Saves getting
a life, I suppose. Somewhere to spend our leisure hours, cooped up
in a dark building that’s falling down round our ears, never seeing
the sunlight and living on junk food for weeks on end.’
    ‘So, nothing
new there, then,’ said Jessica. ‘Our happy band of stage crew is
back in the theatre again.’ She grinned. ‘I can hardly wait.’
     
    On the night of
the first read-through a trio of newcomers, clutching their
scripts, hovered nervously at the Green Room door. Jessica watched
with some amusement as Gerald the Treasurer pounced on them.
Despite his slight frame and mousy colouring, he was a force to be
reckoned with when it came to financial matters.
    ‘Welcome to the
Regent Theatre. You’ve been cast in the show? Very good. Here are
some forms to fill in so you can join the Society. Students, are
you? There’s the student rate, just tick that box and make out a
cheque the way it says underneath. Or cash is fine if you’ve got it
with you.’
    ‘But look, I
don’t want to join anything – I’m just in the show.’ The
dark-haired boy looked mildly resentful.
    ‘Compulsory,
I’m afraid. Can’t go on stage unless you’re a member. Just fill out
the details and give it back to me before the read-through, all
right?’
    Gerald spotted
another victim and moved away, preparing a form and a pen.
    Jessica crossed
over to them.
    ‘Hi guys, nice
to have you with us. When you’re done with the forms, could you
give me a hand to put out some of those chairs please?’ She pointed
to stacks of shabby grey vinyl chairs leaning against the wall.
‘We’ll need about twenty three, in a circle round the room.
Thanks.’
    She left them
usefully employed and looked around for any more new faces.
    Phil and Pippa
Jessop had arrived and were chatting to Clara-Jane, looking
slightly happier than they had at auditions. Young Stewart was
making himself a coffee and still seemed a little nervous. Three or
four regular actors had turned up again and were catching up with
their news since the last show they’d been in together.
    There was a
thunderous hammering on the back door. Stewart gasped and spilt his
coffee. Being nearest to the door, he pushed the security buttons
and opened it warily.
    ‘Oh do get out
of the way!’ boomed Simone. ‘Why didn’t this door open? We always
come in this way. If the damn thing is sticking then somebody
should fix it.’
    Jessica moved
quickly to rescue the tongue-tied blushing Stewart, explaining to
the formidable Mrs Duchaine that a security lock had been added