Body on the Stage (30 page)

They got through the rehearsal
smoothly and Adam declared himself pleased…so far.

“Some room for improvement,” he
said, “but let’s get the technical out of the way before we put a
final polish on things.” There were stifled sighs all round.
“Bright and early tomorrow night, please, and be ready for a long
night of it. Gazza will be rigging the lights during the day; we’ll
go through levels and cues with a few volunteers, then straight
into a full technical rehearsal in the evening. Bring something to
eat and drink before you start just to keep those energy levels up,
yes?”

The assembled company nodded and
murmured agreement before dispersing for the night.

It was a nightmare. The worst a
technical run could be, with the added pressure of Jack Matherson
walking in part-way through and sitting in the audience. Dennis saw
him leaning over and talking to Cathy and was in a fever of worry
about it.

It seemed everything that could
go wrong did go wrong, stopping the show in its tracks while gels
were replaced, drops levelled, lights re-pointed, and speakers
re-wired. The smoke machine had arrived without any fluid so
couldn’t be used until supplies were arranged.

After the tenth technical break
the actors began losing focus, and Mark in particular had
difficulty in remembering lines he’d delivered a hundred times
before. Dennis watched as he grew pale and sweaty, pausing in
agonising silence while his brain struggled to recall the elusive
words. After the prompt had to give him his line for the third
time, Adam beckoned him down into the auditorium for a quiet talk.
Jack Matherson joined them. A few minutes later Adam called out to
the company.

“Mark isn’t well so I’m standing
him down for the night. Our understudy Jayden will take over his
part for the rest of this rehearsal. Dennis, can you take over
Jayden’s part introducing the strips, just for tonight please, so
he has time to get changed between the end of the final scene and
the first appearance of our MC? You’ve watched him before, haven’t
you?”

Dennis felt his heart pound.
Sweat broke out all over and his voice didn’t co-operate when he
tried to reply. “Er, yes,” he managed to force out the words. “I’ll
do my best.”

“Good, thank you. Right people,
from the top of the page please. Go!”

They laboured through the
multitude of cues as the hours ticked past. It was well after
midnight when Dennis was called on to perform and he hoped his
brain was up to the challenge of remembering all Jayden’s moves. As
the music began, he strode down to centre stage and stood quite
still in the circle of the follow-spot. He raised his left arm and
pointed to the wings. Nothing happened.

“That was a cue!” roared Adam.
“Gazza, are you watching?”

“Sorry,” came a gruff voice from
the control room at the back of the auditorium. “Didn’t recognise
him. Got it now.”

“Again please, Dennis.”

Dennis raised his left arm and
pointed. A bank of lights on the left sprang to life, bathing him
in a golden glow down one side. He raised his right arm and pointed
into the wings. Another bank of lights activated from that side. He
gestured towards the back of the room and brightly coloured lights
played across the stage, following his arm movement as he waved it
back and forth.

“Good,” called Adam, “keep
going.”

Dennis put his arms swiftly
behind his back and all the lights went out except for the follow
spot. He bowed low, and it went off too, leaving him to make his
way off the stage in darkness. He stumbled against the edge of the
proscenium arch and banged his knee but managed to exit before the
next lighting cue lit the stage.

He slumped onto the sofa in the
wings and mopped his face with his T-shirt. How the hell did these
guys remember all that and do it with style? No wonder Mark had
folded under the strain. He hoped Mark made a quick recovery,
because having Jayden in his role meant there was no safety net if
anyone else got sick or injured. Cathy’s livelihood relied on the
success of this show, as did the theatre itself, from what he’d
gathered listening to conversations in the Green Room. It seemed
almost every show came with a make or break point, where the money
spent putting it on had to be recovered from ticket sales to
prevent loan default or foreclosure. For a moment he wondered why
the theatre crowd put themselves through such a wringer over and
over again, but then he looked at the cast and crew around him and
realised they were having a pretty good time despite the current
hiccups. He took a deep breath and limped to his position to be
ready for clothes collecting after the first strip.

The technical rehearsal ended at
2am with a collective sigh of relief. Adam sent everyone home with
a quiet word of thanks for their efforts, and the theatre was
silent once more.

The next night, when Mark walked
into the Green Room, Dennis let out a breath he didn’t know he’d
been holding.

“Hey Mark, how are you doing? Is
everything OK?”

“Sure, everything’s fine.” He
smiled rather weakly. “I’m ready to get back into it – just needed
a bit of a break last night.”

To Dennis, his words sounded
oddly flat and unconvincing. “Can I get you a cup of coffee
Mark?”

“Sure, that’d be great.
Thanks.”

As Dennis handed over the mug he
could see a noticeable tremor in Mark’s hands.

“You sure you’re OK?”

“Never better. I’ve just got a
bit going on right now, that’s all. A bit more than is comfortable
to deal with all at one time. But it’ll be all right. I’ll be
fine.” He didn’t seem to convince himself and turned away, spilling
a few drops of coffee from his trembling mug.

“Hello team! I’ve got the
programmes – come and check these puppies out!” Nick the promotions
guy bounced into the Green Room with an open carton and put it on
the props table, where Gert immediately picked it up and thrust it
back into his hands.

“That’s not a prop, Nick. Take
it away.”

“Sorry Gert!” he said
unrepentantly, leaning in to give her a kiss on her withered cheek.
She batted him away with a smile and wombled off to her basement
lair.

“Ooh, let’s see them,” said
Jessica. “How did the poster shot turn out?” She pounced on the box
of programmes and pulled one out, unfolding it from A4 to A2 size
and turning it sideways to admire the centrefold photo of the four
strippers. “Oh very nice! Very nice indeed!”

The others crowded round to have
a look, with wolf whistles and whoops of approval from all the
straight women and the occasional gay man.

“I like the arrangement, the way
the photographer posed the guys diagonally in their Spanish
jackets. Striking, and very dramatic with the upper circle seats in
the background.” Jessica gave Nick the thumbs-up. “I liked the idea
of the standing in the river shot, but this could be even better.
It’s good to feature the theatre to keep it in people’s minds for
the year. Well done Nicholas. Your knighthood should arrive any day
now.”

She took the programme over to
the notice-board and pinned it up so both sides could be read. “OK
everyone, you’ll all get one as a souvenir at the end of the run.
Leave the rest in the box for now, please. Let our patrons have
first crack at them. Now then, this is the final Dress Rehearsal,
so full make-up and costumes please. It’s time to give this show
the full Monty.” There was a shout of laughter. “But strippers, you
can leave your G-strings on. Hats are optional,” she added with a
wink.

Dennis felt a new level of
professionalism backstage. The casual days of hanging around
building things and chatting over coffee were gone. Now everyone in
the theatre was focused on the show and their particular part.
Rules were followed, rules Dennis had only heard about in movies or
TV shows.

“Beginners, please,” came the
call, and he grinned. They really did say that!

The actors finished the final
touches to their make-up and headed for the stage door. Gazza had
already departed for the control room, and Tony chivvied the rest
of the crew into position. Dennis followed obediently into the OP
wing ready for the first scene change. The same old house music
played for five minutes, the house lights dimmed, and they were
away.

Dennis thought it all went
pretty smoothly – the technical bits seemed to work, including the
smoke, and the actors remembered their lines. The staging was
correct with the right drops for the right scenes, and all the
props were where they should be. But Adam called them for notes
immediately after the final curtain and had a whole page of writing
on his clipboard.

Cast and crew gathered at the
front edge of the stage and down the steps as Adam stood in the
aisle facing them.

“You can do better than that,”
he said. The faces in front of him fell. “Warwick, you were slow
with your line in scene two – that needs to be much snappier
otherwise the whole scene loses momentum. Mark, you looked like you
had other things in your mind the whole way through. We need you to
focus on your audience – they’ve paid to see you perform so give
them a hundred percent not sixty.” He consulted his piece of paper.
“Tony, those scene changes could still go faster. Have a look at
how you can streamline things to save time. We’re still running a
bit long and it’s not just the actors.”

Dennis flinched as if he’d been
kicked in the stomach. Now it felt personal, and the criticism
stung. Crew work not good enough? Well they’d make damn sure it was
better the next night, and the one after that.

“I know we’ve got a really good
show here and you’ve all worked very hard. Just kick it up one more
gear for opening night and you’ll have a great season,” Adam
finished at last. “Go home, have an early night, and bring all your
energy tomorrow. Thank you.”

Dennis thought ruefully about
his photo shoot the next day. He was carb-depleted already in
preparation, so energy might just be a problem.

The day of his photo shoot was
almost unbearable. It had been scheduled for mid-afternoon Friday
so he could take time off work, and he was only allowed sips of
water during the day.

By the time he reached the
photographer’s studio he was faintly light-headed and really not
feeling himself, but to his relief Cathy was there to guide him
through it.

“Come on Dennis, the really
tough part is almost over,” she said, taking him by the hand and
leading him towards the hanging black backdrop. “We practised all
the poses last night so you know what to do. Grab the dumbbells and
do a few sets to get your muscles pumped up then Andrew here will
shoot you as quickly as he can, OK?”

He looked at her, sighed, and
picked up the dumbbells as instructed. Two minutes later he was
sweating gently and ready to drop. Andrew sprayed him with a light
film of oil and positioned him on the backdrop paper.

“Tense your abs,” he told
Dennis. “Twist a little to the left, and step back a bit with your
right foot. Perfect.”

A series of flashes went off
leaving Dennis blinking. “Did I close my eyes?” he groaned.

“No, that’s fine. Lift your
chest and turn towards me. Good.” More flashes. Dennis felt his
muscles trembling.

“God, this is hard work,” he
said in surprise. “I always assumed modelling was easy.”

“Nope,” said Andrew cheerfully.
“I always tell models to be ready for a good hard workout. By the
time they’ve held a position for several minutes they really feel
the pain, no matter how fit they are!”

“You’re doing well, sweetie,”
Cathy encouraged him. “Almost done. And that tan we sprayed on you
last night looks fabulous, by the way.”

“OK Dennis, turn around and
we’ll shoot your back. Arms up, brace your legs, and don’t worry
about smiling for this one!”

Dennis complied meekly. All he
could think about was a juicy steak and a long drink of cold
water.

“Great sculpting on those lats!”
Cathy enthused. “Nice butt, too.”

“Glad you like it,” said Dennis,
struggling to keep his glutes tensed.

“OK, I think we’ve got you
covered, Dennis,” said Andrew at last. “Shall we just grab a few
shots of you and Cathy together?”

Dennis looked at Cathy. “You may
have to hold me up,” he warned.

She giggled. “Come on, Big Boy,
you can do it. Do your best muscle pose and I’ll stand beside you
and go ‘Ta da!’ as if it was all my own work.”

They took the shot and did a few
more until Dennis felt himself getting dizzy and sat down rather
suddenly on the floor.

“Can I have a drink now please?”
he asked plaintively.

Cathy was full of remorse. “Oh
sweetie, I’m so sorry, I got carried away with capturing how great
you look and forgot all about how awful you’re feeling. Here, drink
some of this, but slowly, OK?” She handed him a water bottle. “Your
body is beautifully cut up and very depleted right now but you’ll
soon bounce back. It’s not something you should do more than a
couple of times a year but it isn’t long-lasting.”

“Wait till you see these
photos,” said Andrew. “You won’t recognise yourself!”

“I showed him your before
photo,” confessed Cathy, “so he’d be able to match the pose and
make an accurate comparison shot.”

“You’ve done really well,” said
Andrew. “I know how much work it takes to lose the fat – it’s not
easy, is it?”

“It helps to have a good
trainer,” said Dennis. “So that’s it? I’m done?” He looked down at
his chiselled abs. “Whaddya know – I guess I’m finally a hunk!” He
was starting to feel better already. “I think I should take my
lovely trainer out for dinner as a thank-you gesture.” He looked up
at Cathy. “Yes?”

“Let’s hold that thought,” she
said. “I believe our presence is required at the theatre for the
next few nights, remember? And it’s opening night tonight!”