Cherringham--Playing Dead (7 page)

Parkes stepped forward.

“I’m the only builder round here putting up houses for the people who live in this village — right? People who put in a day’s graft. Social housing, not bloody galleries or fancy shops or theatres so people from London like you can rip us off and put up prices, and you — you — you’ve got the cheek to start investigating my business? You — and that bloody Yank who should go back where he came from — you two, all you’ve done round here is cause trouble—”

“Mr. Parkes! We have not investigated your business and I am not slandering you. I was told about your deal with the Cherringham Players — and it is public knowledge. All I am trying to do is find out who is causing trouble at the theatre — now if people are saying you stand to gain if the place fails that is not a rumour I have started—”

But Sarah could see nothing was going to stop him.

He started to advance towards her and instinctively she stepped back.

“You’d better watch yourself, little miss detective, I’ve got powerful friends round here, just you see.”

“Don’t you
dare
threaten me.”

Parkes was really close now, his breathing fast, his words hissing at her: “One word from me and I could get you closed down — running a detective agency, where’s your planning permission for that, eh? You mention my name once more, or I hear you’ve been asking about me and I’ll—”

“What exactly will you do then, Andy?” came a man’s voice from the door. “I’m interested to hear this. Go on. Tell me…”

Sarah turned to see Alan Rivers, the local policeman, his big frame filling the space, his uniform suddenly so reassuring.

Sarah saw Parkes take in the situation and step back.

“All right, Alan?” he said, still breathing heavily.

“Had a complaint there was a disturbance up here,” said Alan calmly, but Sarah could see he meant business.

“No disturbance,” said Parkes. “Just — a little disagreement.”

“That right, Sarah?” said the policeman.

Sarah took a deep breath. The moment seemed frozen as she realised nobody quite knew what to do next.

“Mr. Parkes was just going,” she said.

She watched Parkes shake his head.

“Yeah, I’m going. But don’t you forget what I said.”

At the door he stopped, still blocked by Alan.

“You’re in my way —
officer
.”

Sarah saw Alan look to her, but she shook her head. Alan stepped to one side and Parkes disappeared down the stairs.

Sarah stepped back and sat against one of the desks. Grace hurried over from the corner of the office and the two hugged each other in relief.

“Jeez,” said Sarah. “What the hell just happened then?”

“What a bastard,” said Grace.

“You all right, Sarah?” said Alan, coming over.

“I am, now you’re here,” she said. “How come you were so quick?”

“I was just over the road in Costco’s when Grace called,” he said.

“Grace, sweetheart — you were brilliant,” said Sarah.

“I was terrified,” said Grace. “But you looked so cool!”

“That might be how I looked,” said Sarah. “It wasn’t how I felt.”

“You want to stay clear of Parkes,” said Alan. “I knew him at school. He fights dirty.”

“Tell me about it,” said Sarah.

“Who fancies a tea?” said Grace. “Alan — you staying for one?”

“Sure.”

Sarah watched Grace head to the kitchen then turned to Alan.

“Do you think he’s going to come back?”

“No, not now he knows I’m involved,” said Alan.

“He did threaten me, you know — or at least, he threatened the business,” said Sarah.

“Well, that’s something you probably should take seriously,” said Alan. “He’s got the Parish Council wrapped round his finger and people tend to do what he wants.”

“Why?” said Sarah.

“He brings work and money into the village. Lot of people rely on him.”

“When you say he fights dirty…?”

“We’ve never pinned anything on him.”

“But?”

“Off the record — I think he uses other people to do his house-keeping, if you know what I mean.”

“Got it. So we should be careful.”

“If you and Jack are sniffing round his business, then yes, Sarah. You should be very careful indeed.”

Grace returned with a tray and started pouring the teas.

And Sarah thought to herself how dangerous her little detecting side-line could be…

Jack stood off stage right, which he noted, looking out to the theatre, was on his
left
.

Something important to remember — as the actors gathered in the centre of the main set, the drawing room of the Blake Manor House.

Jez clapped his hands as if summoning school children.

“All right, people — circle around. A few notes before we run through this big party scene.”

The actors gathered closer to Jez.

“You all know your marks. Todd has reassured me that the trap door is secure so — no more tumbles down
that
rabbit hole.”

“Thank God for that,” Ellie said. “My bum couldn’t stand another crash landing.”

The actors laughed but Jez didn’t even respond, Jack saw.

“Hopefully — we’re done with accidents and can focus on the play because we all know—”

Ambrose Goode grunted and finished the sentence.

“The play’s the thing.”

Again Jez paused.

“Precisely. So then, any questions before we begin?” Kramer didn’t give more than a second for a response to that. “Okay then, places — and we begin!”

The actors went to their appointed spots on the drawing room set.

Todd came beside him. “Okay to just watch?” Jack asked the stage manager.

“Until we do the light change at the end of the scene — but for now, enjoy.”

And together they watched the Cherringham residents morph into highly dramatic characters from a century ago.

*

Ambrose Goode walked away from the fireplace, a ‘brandy’ in his hand.

“A toast to all who join us on this auspicious occasion.”

He raised his snifter.

“I second that,” estate agent Laura said with a tad too much slur, even for the drunken ‘Emily Cowell’.

Jack watched Sarah and Ben Ferris, maid and butler respectively, circle the group with trays of the snifters filled with tea as stand-ins for brandy.

Sarah looked decidedly uncomfortable, Jack thought. Not that he’d ever tell her.

And the butler? Even more so. Was he
supposed
to be acting disgruntled?

“Hang on,” Kramer said taking a step forward from a nearby bookshelf.

He shifted from his acting role as the ‘handsome lieutenant’ to director.

“You two — maid and butler, can we get some smiles,
puh-lease
? It isn’t a wake after all. And Sarah, a bit of a curtsy perhaps? And the butler, a little bow? God, don’t you people ever watch
Downton Abbey
?”

Sarah nodded. Taking direction from Jez Kramer was not going to be easy.

A nod from Ben Ferris as well.

“And Lady Blake,” this to Sarah’s mum Helen, “You are not happy with the way things are going, so stay back a bit. You’re hardly going to smile, are you, hmm?”

“Yes,” Helen said.

Another clap of hands. “Okay then, from where we left off. The toast, please — with feeling!”

Ambrose Goode took a few steps upstage (the front of the stage, Jack had just learned).

“To my beautiful daughter, Clarissa … I wish her the very best in the years to come, as Lady Blake and I announce her imminent—”

“Stop!”

Kramer put down his own snifter and walked completely upstage and turned.

At this rate, it was going to be a long night.

“Ambrose,” he said slowly. “You do know that this is your only offspring, yes?”

“Of course,” Ambrose said.

“And you are announcing her upcoming nuptials to the dashing army lieutenant, Henry Collins?”

“Dashing … bit of a stretch, that, don’t you think?”

The company laughed.

Uh-oh,
Jack thought.

Kramer walked over to Ambrose Goode, still grinning from his joke at Kramer’s expense.

“You are currently delivering that line as if announcing the grand dairy livestock winner at the Royal Highland Show.” Another step closer. ”She’s not a ‘cow’, Ambrose, she’s—”

Kramer looked over to Ellie, as if delivering a genuine compliment, “A ravishing beauty, the apple of your dim-witted eyes, an absolutely spectacular jewel…”

“I delivered the lines as directed.”

“You delivered the lines
precisely
the way someone with your lack of talent, wit and understanding would. Like a stick that talks.”

And that was that.

Goode took his snifter, and in a jerky motion tossed the tea right into Kramer’s face.

“You pompous, ridiculous…” Ambrose seemed stuck for the right word.

The cast had backed away from the tussle, as if not sure what to do.

Jack looked at Todd, who shrugged.

Maybe such things are supposed to happen in a theatrical production?

But the dripping Kramer reached out and grabbed the much older Goode by the lapels of his sport coat.

“You
fool
. You talentless village bumpkin. No wonder they had to replace you. The only role you’re fit for—”

Kramer was shaking Goode around now and the level of physicality ratcheted up a notch with each shake.

“—is the village idiot.”

Goode seemed unmoved by Kramer’s shaking and Jack winced as the older man suddenly slapped Kramer in the face.

“Ha!” shouted Goode as Kramer froze. “Taste of your own medicine you pompous little twerp. You can take your BAFTAs and stick them—”

But to Jack’s amazement Kramer rallied and launched himself at his producer with a roar, scattering the rest of the cast.

“Nobody talks to me like that!”

Jack saw Sarah shoot him a look.

Maybe not in the stage manager’s job description but…

Jack ran over and quickly pulled the two of them apart.

Kramer acted as though he was struggling against Jack … but Jack could feel that the struggle was more for show.

Goode, meanwhile, looked as if he had got out of the lift on the wrong floor at Harrods.

Ellie came over to Kramer with a small towel, and the director, calming down, wiped his face.

“He’s
fired
.”

Which is when Sarah’s mum Helen took — as they say — centre stage.“Jez, Ambrose my dear man … we’re all a little edgy. With everything that’s been happening.”

All eyes were on Helen, almost as if she really were Lady Blake.

“We have only one day to dress, then the first performance.” She turned to Kramer. “
No one
can be fired.”

Jack guessed that Kramer could take that to mean for himself as well.

“Jez, you are the director. But I think you might phrase things a little more … diplomatically.”

Kramer held his tongue.

He obviously didn’t want the production to end.

Newspapers were publishing articles about him!

“And Ambrose, we have performed in so many great productions together. Can’t you give this one your absolute best? We all know how wonderful that can be.”

Goode hesitated for a few moments, then nodded. “Yes. I suppose so.”

“Well, as a Theatre Company board member, I am so terribly glad to hear that. Now, maestro,”

A little needle there? Jack did so like Sarah’s mum.

“—perhaps we might resume the rehearsal?”

“Yes. All right — places as before. The toast please.”

He delivered an exaggerated smile to Ambrose Goode, “If you would be so kind?”

Then, as if noticing that Jack was still there. “And can we
please
clear the stage?”

“Right,” Jack said.

He hadn’t expected to be breaking up brawls on the stage.

And as he walked back to the wings, and the rehearsal began again, he had to wonder what other surprises lay ahead.

“Ready?” Todd said to Jack who had his hands on the curtain ropes. “Your cue is when I flash the lights on stage, two times, then we go dark and—”

“Curtain.”

Todd grinned. “Precisely. Least that’s how Kramer wants the act to end.”

“And what Kramer wants…”

Jack turned back to the stage. It was the end of the party scene, leading to a big moment. No more fights had broken out, and except for a roll of the eyes by Ambrose and the occasional exasperated look from Kramer, things had gone smoothly.

Then the plan — for those who wanted it — was a post-rehearsal retreat to the Ploughman’s.

Hopefully, without the director in tow.

“What you are about to witness…” Goode, in character, said, holding a dark mahogany case, “is a most precious article that few have seen since I brought it back from the hot, mysterious city of Bombay back in ninety-four.”

The actors formed a near semi-circle around “Lord Blake” and his mysterious case. They pretended to look at each other with curiosity. This play, Jack knew, was written in 1912.

And it sure felt like it…

“As a reward for service to King and Country, the Royal Indian family of Jain, long the wealthiest family in the land, presented it to me. For services rendered, of course.”

More “oohs-and-ahhs” from the actors.

Then:

“And on this, the occasion of my lovely daughter Clarissa’s engagement being announced…”

Now both soon-to-be-newlyweds, Ellie and Kramer, turned to the group and smiled.

“…I wish to present this great prize to my daughter and for all her heirs, in perpetuity!”

“All set?” Todd whispered.

Jack nodded.

Goode seemed to have some trouble holding the mahogany case up with one hand, while his other went to the front to open the lid.

“Bit of a tilt,” Kramer said through his clenched-teeth smile, slipping in a tiny bit of direction.

Goode kept his smile on as well as he tilted the case more towards the theatre, then slowly pulled on the case’s top.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you … The Pearl of Bombay!” Goode said, in what must have been as loud a voice as he could summon. Then, scanning the group whose smiles had now been replaced with horror-struck looks, eyes as wide as could be.