purple damask, with matching curtains at each corner tied with gold ribbon, the bed really did look fit for a queen.
On Tuesday they painted a woodwormy old blanket box. Hannah had found it on the log pile and thought it would make a perfect window seat. Above it they fixed an old sash window they had found in a shed.
“That looks fantastic,” said Lottie. “And I’ve got a piece of blue fabric at home – we’ll hang that behind the window for the sky.”
On Wednesday Hannah led Lottie backstage and unveiled a surprise. “See,” she said, gesturing with a sweep of her arm to a sawn-off broom handle, suspended horizontally from the ceiling with baler twine. “Our costume rail. And the genius of it is, it doesn’t take up any floor space. When we don’t needto use it, we won’t even know it’s there.”
As she had promised, Hannah cycled to Lottie’s house every evening after she had put Sam to bed, and as the week went on the rail started filling up with costumes, each labelled, as Mum’s theatre books advised, with the character’s name and the scenes in which they were to be worn.
Hannah loved every second of the preparation. Each day at school dragged more than the one before, as she watched the clock until the time when she would be released to work on the theatre. And on Sunday afternoon, the day of the dress rehearsal, when she stood backstage and looked around at all they had achieved, she thought: Mum would be proud of us. This really is a theatre now.
It was fifteen minutes until curtain up. Hannah was dressed in her Scene One costume: a long frilled pink nightdress with pastel-blue bows. It was made of a satiny material, which made her feel very regal and changed her walk into a kind of glide. The hair helped too. Martha had put it up in a bun. The hairgrips had been shoved in slightly harder than necessary and her hair scraped back a little forcibly, and the hairspray need not perhaps have gone into her eyes quite so much, but the result was effective. And the make-up – orange lipstick, puce blusher and purple eyeshadow – was certainly striking.
“Jo, have you checked off all the props?” she asked. “Are they on the table in scene order?”
“Yes, I’ve just done a last check,” said Jo, shrugging Prince Rallentando’s flowery silk jacket on to hershoulders. “And I’ve ticked them all off on my list.”
“Where’s the letter from Prince Rallentando?”
Lottie, who was sitting by the window having her make-up done, patted the pocket of her maid’s apron. “In here, ready to bring on. Hannah, take your watch off! Martha, you’re going to have to hurry – you haven’t done Jo yet.”
Martha grabbed Lottie by the chin. “Stop talking, stupid, or I’ll smudge your make-up.”
Hannah put her watch on the dressing table and slipped through the wings to give the stage a final check. The wooden panelling looked totally authentic now it was painted, and the horse picture, in its gilt frame, gave the room real grandeur. The silver candlesticks looked amazing on the dressing table in front of the painting. Hannah gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.
She peeped through the curtains into the auditorium. The only members of the audience so far were Jasper and Lucy, sitting in prime position in the very centre. Jasper was chewing the cud thoughtfully. Lucy was nestled into his back.
Oh, well. At least Jo hadn’t sat them on chairs.
Where was the rest of the audience, though? What if they hadn’t managed to find the hidden path?
Suddenly she heard a murmur of voices from somewhere in the thicket. Her heart leapt into her throat.
What if it was Jack?
But it wouldn’t be, would it?
Of course it wouldn’t. He hadn’t made the slightestmention of the dress rehearsal. He had probably forgotten she’d ever invited him. It was only one stupid remark, after all – the whole hideous dead duck incident would have swept it clean from his mind.
And he hadn’t gone to Miranda’s
On Tuesday they painted a woodwormy old blanket box. Hannah had found it on the log pile and thought it would make a perfect window seat. Above it they fixed an old sash window they had found in a shed.
“That looks fantastic,” said Lottie. “And I’ve got a piece of blue fabric at home – we’ll hang that behind the window for the sky.”
On Wednesday Hannah led Lottie backstage and unveiled a surprise. “See,” she said, gesturing with a sweep of her arm to a sawn-off broom handle, suspended horizontally from the ceiling with baler twine. “Our costume rail. And the genius of it is, it doesn’t take up any floor space. When we don’t needto use it, we won’t even know it’s there.”
As she had promised, Hannah cycled to Lottie’s house every evening after she had put Sam to bed, and as the week went on the rail started filling up with costumes, each labelled, as Mum’s theatre books advised, with the character’s name and the scenes in which they were to be worn.
Hannah loved every second of the preparation. Each day at school dragged more than the one before, as she watched the clock until the time when she would be released to work on the theatre. And on Sunday afternoon, the day of the dress rehearsal, when she stood backstage and looked around at all they had achieved, she thought: Mum would be proud of us. This really is a theatre now.
It was fifteen minutes until curtain up. Hannah was dressed in her Scene One costume: a long frilled pink nightdress with pastel-blue bows. It was made of a satiny material, which made her feel very regal and changed her walk into a kind of glide. The hair helped too. Martha had put it up in a bun. The hairgrips had been shoved in slightly harder than necessary and her hair scraped back a little forcibly, and the hairspray need not perhaps have gone into her eyes quite so much, but the result was effective. And the make-up – orange lipstick, puce blusher and purple eyeshadow – was certainly striking.
“Jo, have you checked off all the props?” she asked. “Are they on the table in scene order?”
“Yes, I’ve just done a last check,” said Jo, shrugging Prince Rallentando’s flowery silk jacket on to hershoulders. “And I’ve ticked them all off on my list.”
“Where’s the letter from Prince Rallentando?”
Lottie, who was sitting by the window having her make-up done, patted the pocket of her maid’s apron. “In here, ready to bring on. Hannah, take your watch off! Martha, you’re going to have to hurry – you haven’t done Jo yet.”
Martha grabbed Lottie by the chin. “Stop talking, stupid, or I’ll smudge your make-up.”
Hannah put her watch on the dressing table and slipped through the wings to give the stage a final check. The wooden panelling looked totally authentic now it was painted, and the horse picture, in its gilt frame, gave the room real grandeur. The silver candlesticks looked amazing on the dressing table in front of the painting. Hannah gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.
She peeped through the curtains into the auditorium. The only members of the audience so far were Jasper and Lucy, sitting in prime position in the very centre. Jasper was chewing the cud thoughtfully. Lucy was nestled into his back.
Oh, well. At least Jo hadn’t sat them on chairs.
Where was the rest of the audience, though? What if they hadn’t managed to find the hidden path?
Suddenly she heard a murmur of voices from somewhere in the thicket. Her heart leapt into her throat.
What if it was Jack?
But it wouldn’t be, would it?
Of course it wouldn’t. He hadn’t made the slightestmention of the dress rehearsal. He had probably forgotten she’d ever invited him. It was only one stupid remark, after all – the whole hideous dead duck incident would have swept it clean from his mind.
And he hadn’t gone to Miranda’s
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