she spotted her boyfriend Greg in the audience. Willa seemed a bit unnerved too, and mentioned there were some oddbods in the crowd tonight, but Louie was too busy trying to sponge the brown greasepaint marks off her ruff to notice.
In fact the auditorium was full, and the buzz Louie noticed in the audience from the beginning was palpable. Within moments she knew that tonight she mustn’t play to them—they were already overexcited—but pull in and keep control of the atmosphere.
And that was what it must be like for Viola all the time, she thought suddenly. Keeping control of herself and the situation was vital. Always lying, pretending to be a boy servant to Orsino when in fact she had fallen in love with him. The fabric of her existence threatened to fall apart should she let her true feelings show—she could be out of a job, a home, and have lost all chance of being with the one she loved. And it was also like her and Willa—hiding that secret that nevertheless bubbled and fizzed inside you, knowing that you loved where it was forbidden to love.
Louie’s lines were just as perfect as the previous nights; her moves too were impeccable. But there was something extra tonight that she was only semi-conscious of—something in her expression and delivery, that made tears spring unexpectedly to eyes when she said:
My father had a daughter loved a man…
...She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i’ the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was this not love indeed?
The tenderness on Mo’s face was genuine as she struggled to find Orsino’s words to answer. Louie saw it, and captured it and Mo, keeping that feeling between them for the whole performance. At the end, as Dena sang the final notes of the Clown’s song, there was a long breathless silence, then, like a string that the cast had been holding taut finally snapping, the audience exploded into rapturous applause. Mo’s hand squeezed Louie’s and they both stood forward and bowed. Louie knew without a doubt that it was her best performance ever.
p.
It was after the flowers for Mrs. Ashton and several curtain calls that went on too long because of the stage manager’s enthusiasm that Louie finally saw Willa. She rushed up to Louie first this time, forgetting the others, and threw her arms around her.
“I love you, Louie,” she whispered.
As Louie opened her mouth to reply she caught sight of her parents and Marietta waiting at the door.
“Hi!” she said, knowing she was going bright red, but hoping the greasepaint would hide it. Willa let go and turned round.
“Hi,” she said, and Louie lost all hope as she saw the colour Willa turned.
Susi spread her mouth in something that looked like but wasn’t a smile and gave Louie a quick kiss. “Well done, Louie. You were very good, everyone said so.”
Tony enveloped her in a hug and tried to make up for Susi. “You were fabulous. Nobody noticed anyone else on stage. They needn’t have bothered. You were the star.”
“Dad,” Louie frowned as some other actors were coming in the -dressing room.
“Well that’s what I thought. I’m allowed to, I’m your father.”
“Wasn’t she wonderful?” asked a bouquet of flowers that squeezed in the door in front of Mrs. Ashton.
“She was brilliant,” agreed Tony.
“And Willa’s lighting? Wasn’t that lovely? You did a super job, Willa. I don’t know what we would have done without you. It’s the work behind the scenes that people often forget about,” she told Susi.
Susi smiled tightly. “I’m sure.”
“Hello,” said Mrs. Ashton. “Who’s this? Are you Louie’s sister?”
“I’m Ettie,” answered Marietta. “I’m coming to Woodhaugh High next year.”
“Really? Am I going to get to teach you drama too?”
“No,” Marietta replied. “I’m into computers and
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