Body on the Stage (23 page)

“No, you’ll do fine. We’ve got
Jayden as our stripper understudy so you’re just a rehearsal
back-up – just a body on the stage, basically. We don’t need you to
perform with any degree of skill.”

“Well in that case, I’m your
man!”

“Thank you, Dennis.” Adam
inclined his head graciously. After he had walked away, Dennis was
left feeling as if he’d been appointed to a position of honour and
was somebody very special. It was the effect Adam had on
people.

“What was all that about?” Ricky
was suddenly in his face, his eyes hot and angry. “You don’t think
you’re getting a spot on stage, do you? What did Adam say to
you?”

Dennis backed away from him
towards the table where the other actors were sitting.

“He was just thanking me for
filling in for the rehearsal,” he protested. “Nothing more than
that.”

“Really? You look pretty smug
for someone who just pranced about making a twat of himself – you
sure he didn’t promise you a part in the show?” Ricky advanced, so
intent on Dennis he didn’t see Warwick’s foot shoot out in his
path. He tripped, sprawled on the floor, and jumped back on his
feet with murder in his eyes. He turned on Warwick.

“You bastard! What the hell was
that for?”

Warwick stood slowly, looming
over Ricky. “For being a dick,” he growled. “Sit down and shut up
for once, will you? You’re a noisy little pain in the arse. Yap,
yap, yap, in that squeaky little voice – I’m bloody sick of
it.”

“To hell with you!” Ricky pulled
back a fist and let fly with all his strength, catching Warwick in
the belly. Mark sprang up and tried to get between them, getting a
punch on the ear for his trouble. In seconds the three of them were
tangled on the floor, fists flying and kicks landing with muffled
grunts and curses. The others looked on in amazement, too surprised
to take any action to stop them. When Mark started pounding
Warwick’s head against the floor Dennis filled a jug of cold water
to fling over them but by that time Adam had come back into the
room.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE
DOING?” Adam’s forceful but menacing delivery managed to penetrate
the red haze in their heads and bring them slowly to their feet.
They stood in front of him, panting, rubbing at their injuries.

“It was…” Ricky began.

“I DO NOT WISH TO HEAR IT. Go
and clean yourselves up. I recommend cold water, paper towels, and
a good hard look in the mirror. Ricky, go to the backstage toilets.
Warwick, use the front of house toilets. Mark, use the upstairs
toilets. GO!” Adam pointed. They hurried off in different
directions.

“Would somebody care to
enlighten me as to what all that was about?”

“Thespians,” proclaimed Gazza.
“Highly-strung bunch.”

“Yes, thank you Gazza, very
illuminating. Anyone else?”

“It was weird,” said Tony. “They
just kind of exploded. One minute we were all having a nice quiet
cuppa, then all hell broke loose and they were at each other’s
throats. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Dennis was about to offer his
theory but Ricky came back into the room and, unwilling to provoke
another outburst, he stayed silent. Better that the rehearsal got
back on track. He could always have a quiet word with Adam
later.

“Right then,” said Adam, as the
other two straggled back into the Green Room, their hair slicked
back and faces scrubbed clean. “Now that everyone is behaving like
human beings instead of animals, perhaps we can get on with our
show. I trust there will be no repetition of this stupidity?” He
looked hard at the three pugilists, who shuffled their feet and
muttered “No Adam,” in some embarrassment.

Adam looked at his watch, then
around the rest of the group in the Green Room. “Ah, Jessica – can
you round up a few females to sit in the front row for the next
part of the strip routines? I need bodies for the guys to perform
to. Anyone will do. Cathy should be here shortly and we’ll try out
the moves on a live audience.”

A broad grin spread across
Jessica’s face as she called on several women Dennis didn’t know,
telling them they’d been chosen.

“Yes, Gert, you can be in a hot
seat for this part, come on. You must have seen a few naked men in
your time, eh?” The grey-haired little old lady smiled but didn’t
seem terribly keen on seeing any more. “You too, Clara-Jane,
wardrobe can do without you for a little while, get your
bootilicious self into the audience.

Adam turned and sailed towards
the door. “Come along then people, let’s do this.”

Dennis followed, aware this
might prove an unnerving experience. He was careful to sit at least
four rows back in the auditorium, out of the range of the stage
lights and well away from any possible interaction with the actors.
Jessica herded in the group of women and persuaded them into the
front row seats where there was much nudging and giggling.

Adam took a seat halfway down
the front section of seats and waved to the soundman in the control
room. “First track, please.”

As the first few bars of “Hot
Stuff” reverberated round the almost empty auditorium, Warwick came
in through the side door and stood waiting, looking up at the
ceiling rose. Dennis could see him mentally counting off the beats.
At the start of the second verse he ran down the aisle and sprang
onto the stage, dancing energetically and looking intently at the
scattered women in the front row.

“Smile, Warwick! You look like
you’re ready to snap at them, not seduce them!” Cathy’s voice rang
out from the end of the front row and Dennis let out a surprised
‘oh!’ She must have come in while they were in the Green Room, he
thought, and wondered if he could move closer to her without
drawing unwanted attention to himself. But then, as he watched,
Warwick jumped down and stood right in front of her, wiggling his
hips and inviting her to undo his belt. As Dennis half-rose in his
seat, Cathy undid the belt and playfully pulled it from around
Warwick’s waist, waving it triumphantly round her head as she sat
down. The other women clapped and cheered, eager to have their turn
at removing clothing now they knew what was expected of them.
Dennis sat back down, feeling ruffled and out of sorts. He didn’t
want to watch Cathy flirting with the actors. It was uncomfortable
and he wished he could retreat to the workshop and do something
uncomplicated with the construction guys. He folded his arms and
sighed heavily, drawing a sideways glance from Adam.

As the music came to an end,
Warwick stood centre stage, then ran off.

“Good, that’ll be a nice quick
exit when the lights go down,” called Adam.

There was a crash in the wings
and a shout of pain.

“Watch what you’re doing, you
hulking great moron! Ow!” Ricky stumbled onto the stage rubbing his
shoulder. “He ran straight into me!” he complained loudly. “He
could see me standing there waiting to come on and he ran right at
me.”

Adam called all the actors onto
the stage.

“This is a good time to block
our exits and entrances,” he said, “now you can see what happens if
you get it wrong. Enter through the downstage gap and exit upstage,
that way there’s less chance of crashing into each other in a
blackout. We don’t want any broken noses dripping blood onto the
audience, do we?”

“He didn’t even try to avoid
me,” Ricky insisted, “even though the lights are on and he could
see me perfectly well.” He pushed Warwick in the chest, sending him
back a step. There was a momentary hush and then an explosion of
rage – but from Mark.

“Will you just shut UP!” he
shouted, grabbing Ricky by the shoulders and shaking him violently.
“You never stop! Whine whine whine…well I’ve had enough!” He shoved
him so hard that Ricky sprawled backwards onto the stage, looking
up white-faced as Mark stormed out of the theatre.

There was a stunned silence.

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Well,
that was an interesting performance. Clearly there’s something
going on that requires investigation. But let’s not lose focus
here. We have limited rehearsal time before we open and I don’t
intend to be derailed. I’ll get to the bottom of any disputes
later, but for now, can we run through the rest of the individual
routines, please? We don’t need Mark for those. Ricky, get in
position ready for your music cue.”

Ricky scrambled to his feet,
wide-eyed, and obeyed without question. Adam returned to his seat
and gave the soundman a wave. The second track blared out and Ricky
ran on, moving through his routine quickly and carefully, but the
previous light-hearted atmosphere had evaporated and the stand-in
audience was quiet and subdued.

Once Adam had declared the
rehearsal to be over, Dennis hurried to speak to Cathy.

“Hi, did you see that? Mark
really lost it, didn’t he? That can’t be normal behaviour, surely,
not unless there’s something serious bugging him. I reckon Vincenzo
really must have feeding him steroids and that’s why he’s exploding
with rage at every little thing.”

“Dennis, even if you’re right,
what can we do about it?” she said helplessly. “The damage is done
now.”

“Surely once they stop taking
the stuff, the effects will wear off, won’t they? We just have to
make sure they don’t take any more of Vincenzo’s special formula
whey powder.”

Cathy thought for a moment. “I
suppose I could do a sort of product recall. Take back all their
powder and offer them the proper stuff as a replacement. That’ll
cost a bundle,” she said grimly. Then she turned horrified eyes on
him. “What if there are others that have been taking it? How will I
find them, and how the hell can I afford to give away even more
product?”

“Let’s just focus on who we can
see has been affected for now, shall we? Get the powder back off
Ricky, Mark and Warwick, get it tested, get them sorted, and then
look further afield if you think we have to.”

She nodded. “That sounds
sensible. I’m so glad you’re here to help me through all this. Your
calm advice is exactly what I need. Thank you.” She tapped a finger
against her lips, thinking. “Actually, I may need a little more
than just advice.”

“Ye-es?” he said cautiously.

“I don’t know how those three
will react when I ask them to do the powder swap. Would you help me
with breaking it to them?”

Dennis thought about the violent
scenes he’d just witnessed with three powerful men at each others’
throats, lashing out with fists and feet. “Of course,” he said
instantly. “Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there with
you.”

“Let’s grab Warwick and Ricky
now while there are plenty of people around, and perhaps we can
tackle Mark later once he’s calmed down. You really are my hero,
Dennis,” she smiled.

“Yes, well,” he murmured, trying
not to blush. “Of course I want to keep you safe. You’re very
important to me. I just hope your hero survives this encounter
intact. Who knows what those guys are capable of when they’re
drugged up and full of ‘roid rage. Anything could happen.”

They went backstage, bracing
themselves for possible explosions.

Warwick and Ricky were at
opposite ends of the Green Room, both brooding darkly, nursing mugs
of cold water.

“Do we tackle them individually
or together?” whispered Dennis.

“If we can get them together, at
least we only have to do it once,” murmured Cathy.

“OK, I’ll try to get Ricky over
here, and you get Warwick.”

Between them they persuaded both
guys to sit down at the same table.

“Sorry to interrupt you,” Cathy
began, “but there’s something I wanted to ask you. Could you return
the protein powder Vincenzo gave you to the gym, and let me swap it
for fresh product? I’ll give you a full pack for whatever you bring
back. You won’t lose out, I promise.”

“Why?” demanded Ricky.

Cathy looked at Dennis with a
tiny shrug. What could she tell them?

“It’s just a product recall
thing,” he said firmly. “We need to account for what was handed out
and return it. Like she said, you won’t lose out – you’ll get more
than you give back, and it’ll be newer stock.”

“Suppose that’s all right then.
When do you want it?”

“As soon as possible please,
Ricky. Drop it off the next time you come in for a workout, could
you?” She turned to Warwick. “Is that all right with you, too?”

He looked at her as if her words
had barely reached him. “Yeah, whatever.

Dennis kept a close eye on them
when they turned up at the gym the following night clutching their
packages of powder. They stomped up to the reception counter and
thumped the bags down with bad grace. Cathy smiled sweetly, handed
over brand-new sealed foil containers of fresh powder, and
carefully put their offerings into a large ziplock bag which she
locked away in a filing cabinet. Dennis breathed a sigh of relief
the procedure had been accomplished without a cross word being
spoken. He wondered how long it took for the effects of the drugs
to wear off, thinking it would be really nice if the guys recovered
their happy dispositions before the show opened to a real audience.
It needed to be a success if only for Cathy’s financial wellbeing,
and happy smiling actors would make a much better impression than
angry, brooding ones. Too many women had men like that at home
already and would be looking for a change when they went to the
show.

Cathy beckoned him over to the
office and he felt a warm smile spread across his face.

“That seemed to go all right,”
he said. “No temper tantrums.”

“Thank goodness! Now, I called
you over because we’re due to do your nine-week check and measure
session. This is where we can do the last bit of fine-tuning to
make sure you get to the twelve week end point in the very best
shape.” She ushered him into her office and pulled out the tape
measure. “Right, shirt off please, you know the drill now.”