Stagefright (20 page)

Just before lunch on Saturday, she had more visitors – Peter and Jesus. Velvet hadn’t had any boys knocking on the door since Clayton Hopkins used to come and ask her to play when she was in Grade 2. Now in two days she’d had three different male callers.

“What lovely roses,” Peter said. “Did you grow them, Mrs Pye?”

How did he always know the right thing to say? Velvet’s mother blushed and made them a cup of tea. She also got out the chocolate biscuits. She hadn’t done that for Taleb.

“We’re having a rehearsal this afternoon,” Peter said.

“How can we?”

“It’s all organised,” Jesus said through a mouthful of chocolate biscuit. “Mr Mac is letting us in. Everybody will be there at one.”

“Everybody?”

“Taleb’s cancelled Toxic Shock practice. Drago’s promised to be on time. Roula …”

“Roula?”

“She’s allowed to do the play now.” Jesus smiled. “Pete went and had a chat with Mrs Anagnostopoulos.”

Velvet’s mother brought over some sandwiches on a vintage plate she’d bought at an op shop.

“Thank you, Mrs Pye. This looks wonderful.”

She smiled radiantly at Peter.

“What did you say to change Roula’s mum’s mind?”

“Nothing much. I just told her how important the play is to us all. How we get left out of school activities because we can’t play sport.”

“What about Drago?”

“I filled her in on what a disadvantaged lad he is, orphaned at a young age, what a pathetic sick child he was.”

“And she fell for it?”

“Needed a hankie,” Jesus said, taking another sandwich.

“Roula just has to make sure that her Uncle Dimitrios doesn’t go to the play.”

“What can I say, Peter? You’re brilliant.”

Jesus took two more sandwiches. “I don’t think it’s got anything to do with his brains.”

“So are you still in?” Peter asked.

“I know you’re going to Endeavour High next year,” Jesus said, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t finish this off.”

Velvet hoped Taleb hadn’t told them she’d called them losers.

“I’m in. Of course I am.”

Everyone arrived more or less on time. Hailie and Mei hugged Roula as if they hadn’t seen her for months. Velvet did too, but she had one eye on Taleb who was ignoring her. Mr MacDonald gave them all a speech about how they shouldn’t let all their hard work go to waste by slacking off at the last moment, and how they all had talents and should let everybody know about them. No one believed him, but Velvet could tell they all liked hearing it. She had to do her best, for Mr MacDonald’s sake.

Miss Ryan was there as well, pinning up dresses and sewing on braid, even though she was nervous about breaking so many school rules. She had made a very nice doublet for Drago out of a dark green brocade dressing gown. It had puffs at the top of the sleeves, lots of buttons down the front, and a stand-up collar with a bit of lace peeping out.

“It’s lovely.” Velvet felt guilty. Miss Ryan must have spent hours working on the costumes. “You’ve done such a great job!”

Roula’s bridesmaid’s dress, now black and with the petticoats ripped out, was unrecognisable. Velvet’s op shop dress had been dyed maroon and Miss Ryan had made her some big sleeves out of a ghastly floral tablecloth. Not quite what Velvet had had in mind, and nothing like the beautiful satin sleeves on the dress she’d chosen at the costume shop, but they would probably look all right from a distance. The other op shop dress hadn’t been quite to Hailie’s taste so she’d attacked the neckline with scissors, leaving a jagged raw edge. Mei had to make do with a purple Indian cheesecloth dress that Hailie’s mum had donated. It wasn’t even slightly medieval and the buttons were threatening to burst where the dress was stretched over her ample figure.

Peter’s doublet was still in pieces, and Taleb and Jesus didn’t have anything yet. Drago strutted around wearing his doublet and his fur-trimmed coronation robe. He looked quite regal apart from Miss Ryan’s cardboard and foil crown, which was already starting to fall apart. They stood around inspecting each other’s costumes and the sketch that Roula had drawn on the other side of the drop sheet. Then they had to set up the keyboard on stage.

Drago was fiddling with his schoolbag. It was the first time Velvet could remember seeing him carry one.

“I’ve got something …”

Velvet had never seen Drago look shy and self-conscious before either. He opened the bag and pulled out a crown. It was modelled on the one they’d seen in the costume shop. It was a bit lopsided and had glass beads glued on instead of set into it, but it shone like real gold.

“I made it in metalwork.”

“It’s great, Drago,” Roula said. “Put it on.”

Drago put on the crown.

“I got a C+ for it. That’s my highest grade ever.”

“Really?” Peter said. “We should go over to Hades and celebrate.”

“Okay, enough loitering. It’s a fabulous crown, Drago,” Mr MacDonald said. “Let’s get started otherwise we’ll be here till midnight.”

The musicians took their places on stage, and plugged in or tuned their instruments. Jesus set up his saucepan-lid cymbals and an African drum as well as his shakers. Velvet and Taleb had managed to keep out of each other’s way until this point. Taleb had set up his amplifier as far from the keyboard as possible, but it was a lot harder to avoid eye contact now. He counted to four and the rehearsal finally got underway.

It took a while for everybody to warm up. Velvet’s sleeves kept getting in the way of her playing, and Hailie couldn’t tune her saxophone. But as they worked through it, for the first time they had a sense of the production as a whole. Mr MacDonald took his place as the bedridden king. They went through the coronation scene. It was six o’clock and they were still nowhere near finished. They ordered pizza and everyone rang home to say they’d be late.

“So do you want to hear the girls’ song?” said Taleb, after the pizza. He was going to play it anyway, so he didn’t wait for an answer.

“There’s a verse for each of you and then you all sing the chorus together. Hailie’s is the first verse.

“
Once I was a mother
.

Once I was a wife
.

Once I was a queen
.

Until this brother changed my life
.

“Then there’s the chorus.

“
We’re the queens, the queens of sadness

And all we do is cry

If words could kill, he’d be dead right now

And we could sing bye-bye
.”

He had trouble hitting some of the high notes as he’d written it in a key for the girls, but the song had a catchy tune and infectious rhythm, even if it didn’t really fit the lyrics.

“
My curses all came true

Like I said they would
.

Except he’s still alive
.

How I want to spill his blood
.

“That was Mei’s. The next one’s Velvet’s.

“
The place is full of corpses

But he hasn’t finished yet
.

I’m sure to be the next one

If you want to make a bet
.

“The last one’s Roula’s.

“
I’m his only mother

He wasn’t a nice kid
.

Even I don’t like him

Let’s make him hurt just like he did
.”

“And while each one’s singing the others sing
sha-la, sha-la-la-la
and then
bye-bye, bye-bye
in the background. Get it?”

Everyone loved the song. Velvet felt guilty that she’d been so ready to give up on the play.

The girls started learning their verses and working out a few dance steps. They kept the movements simple, but still found it hard without tripping over their dresses.

“You’ll have to do a lot of work on it to get it right in time,” Taleb said.

Velvet didn’t ask if he was working on a finale. No one else seemed to think it was important.

They practised the songs at lunchtime every day and rehearsed the second act scenes after school. The following Saturday, while Velvet directed Drago and Jesus as they rehearsed the battle scene at the end, Roula supervised as the others painted the castle walls she had sketched. With a cardboard tree in front of it, the backdrop became outdoor scenery; with a couple of bits of furniture, it was indoors. Roula also made a cardboard bloody angel for the dream scene that really impressed everybody.

Jesus was having trouble curbing his natural competitiveness. It only took him a few seconds to beat Drago in the sword fight.

“Jesus, this isn’t a real contest,” Velvet said. “We all know you can beat Drago. You have to act. Make it look like Richard is going to win, but then, at the last minute, you get the better of him.”

“Okay. Like in a footy match when you pretend you’re injured and then come back and tackle your opponent when he’s not expecting it.”

“Yes. Exactly like that.” Velvet hadn’t realised that football involved acting.

They rehearsed the scene again and again. Velvet sat in the front row. Jesus made the fight look convincing, even though they were only using plastic swords.

“It’d be better with some dramatic music,” Drago said.

Velvet glanced at Taleb. Drago was right, but she wouldn’t have dared suggest it. She hadn’t spoken to Taleb since the night he came to her house.

“I can either write something for the battle scene or I can write a finale. I haven’t got time to do both.”

“The battle scene can be the finale,” Jesus said. “I kill Drago. He falls to the ground. I celebrate my victory and the curtain comes down.”

“I guess so,” Velvet said.

“Are we going to do a curtain call?” Peter asked.

“A what?”

“You know, at the end when everyone claps and the performers all hold hands and bow.”

“I’m not holding hands with any guys, okay?” said Drago.

Peter looked worried. “Maybe no one will clap.”

Velvet was on her way to the last lunchtime practice, on the day of the performance. She already had butterflies. Peter came running up to her in the corridor.

“Drago’s done it this time.”

“Done what?”

She followed Peter through a crowd of students to the staff car park, where a late-model BMW sat with a truckload of sand piled up against it, blocking it in. It was the principal’s car.

Mr Kislinski was standing next to his car fuming. “You did this didn’t you, Domitrovic?”

“No, sir, the truck driver did it,” Drago said.

“You’re expelled. Empty your locker. If I see you anywhere in the school grounds, I’ll call the police.”

“Oh, no,” Velvet groaned.

Drago didn’t know how to look apologetic. He smirked at Mr Kislinski and slouched off, shrugging his shoulders as he passed Peter and Velvet.

“Now what do we do?” Peter said.

“I don’t know.”

“But you always think of a way around things, Velvet.”

“You’ll have to play Richard.”

“I can’t. I don’t know the lines. And who’s going to play Buckingham? I can’t be both.”

“Taleb will have to do it. There’s no one else.”

Mr MacDonald was tugging at the ropes that operated the curtains. “It’s no good. The rope’s come off a pulley. I can’t get them to close.”

Velvet was looking out at the hall from the wings, wishing she hadn’t talked Miss Ryan into making her sleeves, which weighed a tonne. The seats at the back of the hall had been cleared away and about fifty people were gathered there, looking at display boards about sporting achievements and school camps. They were admiring the pennants and the cups and chatting to teachers. They were drinking tea and eating scones provided by the Parents’ Committee. No one was sitting in the seats waiting for the performance.

“Where is everyone?”

Mr MacDonald was doing his best to calm their nerves.

“Come on, you lot. All actors get nervous on their first night.”

Peter was sitting in a corner, reading through Richard’s lines.

“It’s not a first night,” Hailie said. “It’s a first afternoon.”