Pink, p.15
Pink, page 15
‘Of course,’ said Jen, blushing, ‘there’s also one called Chloe.’
It was as if Jen had cast a spell and summoned her up. I felt a hand on my shoulder. Chloe.
‘I didn’t know you were coming,’ she said, brushing her lips against my cheek.
I felt about sixteen different emotions at once, all battling for the number one spot. Fear for Jen lost out to relief that Chloe no longer seemed to be mad at me about the Ute Lemper tickets. I realised I hadn’t seen her for over a week.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jen’s eyes widen, and I felt a bit proud. Chloe was gorgeous, and she looked particularly stylish today, in a tightly fitted 1940s-style black dress, with fishnets and black pumps.
I introduced Jen as a friend from Billy Hughes. Chloe’s eyes flicked over her. Over the high-waisted jeans, the baggy Flying Spaghetti Monster T-shirt, and the lumpy ponytail.
Chloe’s lip curled in a half-smile-half-sneer, and she popped her eyebrows. ‘Hi,’ she said, and turned to me. ‘Can I talk to you for a second?’
Jen looked panicky, but I gave her a reassuring smile, and Chloe and I hustled over to the bar.
‘What is that?’ Chloe asked, jerking her head at Jen.
‘I told you,’ I said. ‘She’s a friend from Billy Hughes.’
Chloe raised her eyebrows. ‘Since when did you feel the need to make friends with retarded gimp monkeys?’
‘She’s not that bad.’
‘She’s worse,’ said Chloe. ‘She’s a charity case. A cretin. What on earth possessed you to bring her here?’
‘Lower your voice,’ I said. ‘She’s just come out, and I thought she could use some help. Meeting people.’
I glanced back at Jen, who was twisting a paper napkin between her fingers.
‘That’s what you’ve been hanging out with?’ said Chloe. ‘That’s why you can’t come to see Ute Lemper with me? Because you’re too busy playing with your new favourite baby lesbian?’
She glared at me, and I realised she was jealous again. I wanted to laugh and tell her that Jen was the least of her worries.
I stroked her wrist. ‘Come on, I thought you’d be happy I’d finally come out to someone at Billy Hughes.’
‘I hardly think that counts.’
‘Jen’s just nervous,’ I said. ‘I’m sure when she relaxes she’ll fit in.’
Chloe laughed cruelly. ‘Don’t you think she’d be more comfortable at a Star Trek convention? She’s not Like Us.’
And I knew she was right. Jen didn’t really belong here. These people were all far too cool for her. Bree may have been nice to Jen, but she was so far out of Jen’s league it wasn’t funny.
‘Ava,’ said Chloe, leaning in towards me. ‘I think you should ask her to leave. It’s embarrassing for my girlfriend to be seen with someone like that.’
‘I can’t just tell her to go.’
‘Of course you can. Just send her back to her basement so she can play Second Life.’
Chloe was close enough for me to smell her cigarette-and-vanilla smell. Her lips were curled in a playful smile, but her eyes were worried and sad. Surely I’d hurt her enough for one day.
‘I think Second Life would be too grown-up for Jen,’ I said, lowering my voice conspiratorially. ‘She’d be more into World of Warcraft.’
Chloe squeaked with delight. ‘Yes!’ she said. ‘She’d be an elf, with some painfully pseudo-Celtic Tolkienesque name like Aluriel or Nimiane.’
‘Gwenhwyfer,’ said a very small voice behind us. ‘It’s Gwenhwyfer.’
Jen’s face wasn’t white anymore. It was bright red, and her eyes were full of tears. The look she gave me wiped the smile right off my face, and I felt like the very worst kind of person who ever lived.
‘Jen—’ I said, but she interrupted me.
‘I’d better go,’ she said. ‘Gotta get back to my basement.’
She turned around and walked out. I started to follow her, but Chloe grabbed my arm.
‘Are you nuts? Good riddance.’
Jen’s hurt, sad face was still in my mind, the memory of it stabbing me in the gut. ‘But she’s upset,’ I said. ‘You shouldn’t have said those things.’
Chloe shrugged. ‘We shouldn’t have said those things. But who really cares? She’s just a freak.’
She slid her hands around my waist and pouted. ‘And you don’t want to hang out with the freak instead of me, do you?’
It was six o’clock on preview night, and the whole school seemed to shimmer with tension.
It was the last day of term. We were running a preview of the show that night, and the proper week-long run would start next week, the first week of the school holidays.
We hadn’t gone to any of our last classes. Instead we’d spent all day adjusting the lights, dressing the sets and arranging props backstage. Every microphone was in place. Every light was focussed.
We were ready.
The actors were all in their dressing rooms, primping and powdering. The orchestra were in the music centre, having one last go at getting the finale right. Sam was up in the bio box doing a final finesse of the lighting cues. Kobe, Jules and Jacob had gone to get fish and chips. I was backstage, checking the props table for the seven millionth time.
Jen hadn’t come in all day. She’d called Sam to say she wasn’t feeling well, but would definitely be in and ready for curtain-rise. I felt a gnawing guilt every time I thought of her. I’d tried to call her at lunchtime, but she hadn’t answered.
Lights faded and washed in sequence over the stage, like at a really slow, mellow nightclub.
The set looked great. We’d done an amazing job, and I was genuinely proud of my work. I breathed in the scent of paint, hairspray and the theatre-lighting smell of smouldering dust.
My back pocket vibrated, and I pulled out my phone. It was Pat.
‘Ava,’ she said. ‘Your father and I just wanted to say break a leg tonight!’
‘Thanks.’ They weren’t coming to see the show. I hadn’t asked them to, becsause I figured that they would sooner die than see a 1940s musical about gangsters and pastry.
‘Newton!’ Sam was leaning out of the bio box and waving. ‘Can you pop up for a minute?’
I waved back. ‘Pat, I’ve got to go,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning, I’m staying at Alexis’s after the party tonight.’
‘Okay, darling,’ said Pat. ‘And … Ava?’
‘Yes?’
I heard Pat sigh into the phone. ‘If you ever want to talk about anything, you know you can come to me, right?’
‘Pat, I’ve really got to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’ I hung up the phone.
The bio box was at the very back of the auditorium balcony. I jogged up the stairs and then past rows of empty seats.
Inside the tiny black room, the lighting and sound boards were laid out with their hundreds of little black dials and knobs, with flashing red and green LEDs and bits of masking tape covered with scribbled notes.
Sam was bent over the lighting board, his fingers dancing over the faders, peering intently through the glass at the stage. He really knew what he was doing. It was impressive to watch him tweaking a wash here, and bringing in a spotlight there.
I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass of the bio box – all in black like the rest of the Screws. It was the first time I’d come to Billy Hughes without agonising for an hour about my outfit.
‘Hey,’ I said to Sam.
He looked up, and a smile broke over his frown of concentration. ‘Hey. Are you ready?’
I grinned. ‘I think so.’
He held my gaze for a moment too long. Then he bent down and pulled something out of a box.
‘Here,’ he said, placing some headphones and a little box with a clip into my hands.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘Cans,’ Sam replied. ‘It’s how we communicate during the show.’
I felt a swelling of pride as I clipped the box to my belt, and Sam showed me how to operate the little switches. My cans. I was part of the team. I was important and integral. The show wouldn’t work without me.
Sam placed the headset over my ears and adjusted the headband. His hand brushed my hair, and for a brief moment he wound his fingers into it and just looked at me. Then he blushed scarlet and glanced away. What was going on? Sam and I hadn’t hung out much over the last week – but we’d seen each other nearly every day as we went through a seemingly endless sequence of tech-runs and dress rehearsals. And there’d been no weirdness, no flashes of anger or any of these strange looks. Until now. I just couldn’t figure him out.
‘Why are they called cans?’ I asked, a little flustered.
Sam shrugged, fiddling with something on the lighting board. ‘I think it was a brand name.’
‘Oh,’ I said, disappointed. ‘I thought it was, like, a tin can and a piece of string.’
‘I never thought of that,’ Sam said, with a slightly surprised smile. ‘I hope you’re right.’
A feathered-and-sequinned dancer sprinted across the stage, legs extending forever from elegant high heels. I sighed.
‘Jealous?’ said Sam.
I felt guilty for betraying the Screws. ‘A bit,’ I admitted. ‘They all look so beautiful.’
‘Don’t be. They’re just puppets.’
‘But it’s all about them,’ I said. ‘They’re the ones who everyone comes to see. It’s so romantic.’
‘They’re like children. They need the applause and the laughter and the lights shining on them. Our job is much more romantic. We are the strings that move the puppets. We make it all happen, silent and invisible. We don’t need the cheering or the flowers or the light.’
Sam’s eyes were very bright, and his cheeks were flushed, mottling his freckles. He loved this. It was who he was. But who was I?
‘I suppose so,’ I said.
Sam checked his watch. ‘Nearly showtime,’ he said. ‘I’d better make sure Jen’s on her way.’
Another wave of guilt washed over me. I hoped Jen was okay. But I also hoped she wouldn’t tell Sam what had happened.
‘I’ll go and see if the props are all set,’ I said, even though I had already checked them a hundred times.
I climbed down the stairs and went back into the auditorium. When I was halfway down the aisle, my cans crackled.
‘Ava?’ It was Sam.
I turned and squinted up to the bio box. I could just make out a pale face and a splash of ginger hair behind the glass.
‘What?’
‘And hither and thither fly – Mere puppets they, who come and go. At bidding of vast formless things, that shift the scenery to and fro.’
His voice was hushed and whispery in the earphones. ‘Mere puppets,’ he repeated. ‘It’s Edgar Allen Poe.’
‘So are we the vast formless things?’
‘Yep.’
I grinned up at him. ‘Are you calling me fat and unshapely?’
His low laugh tickled my ears. ‘Quite the contrary,’ he said. ‘Jacob can be vast, and I shall be formless. Your form is very pleasing.’
Not so long ago I would have bitten his head off for that comment. I would have called him a misogynist and accused him of objectifying my body. Now I just laughed and bobbed a quick curtsey before I ducked backstage.
It seemed like only moments passed, but suddenly the curtains were closed, and I could hear people murmuring and the scrape of chairs and the occasional twang of a violin string being tuned.
The actors huddled backstage, fresh-faced from their cheesy hand-holding warm-up bonding exercises. They whispered excitedly to one another. Nobody looked at Jacob and me. We really were invisible.
My cans crackled. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Sam’s voice. ‘Welcome to the good ship Bang! Bang! I’ll be your captain this evening. We’re currently cruising above the theatre at a rate of twenty knots, and are expecting a fine night’s sailing. I’d like you to now take this opportunity to disarm the passengers and cross dress, and then we’ll do rollcall. And for our first show, let’s do it mobster-style. I’ll be Sammy “the Gentle Don” Gingernuts.’
‘Dirty Julie Blue-Eyes,’ said Jules.
‘Old Jacob “the Plumber’s” Gambinowitz,’ said Jacob, his glasses glinting in the darkness.
‘Kobe the Ear.’
‘Jenny Magic Fingers.’
I swallowed. Jen was in the bio box with Sam and Kobe. I hoped she was feeling better. I hoped she wasn’t mad at me. I hoped she wouldn’t say anything to the others.
Jacob nudged me.
‘Er,’ I said. ‘Ava the Pink.’
Jacob leaned over and put his arm round my shoulders and squeezed. I grinned up at him. I couldn’t believe I’d only known these people for two months. It felt like forever.
‘What a team,’ said Sam. ‘All right, my darlings, time to get this show on the proverbial. Stand by LX 1, SX 1.’
‘Standing by,’ said Jen.
‘Standing by,’ said Kobe.
‘Okay,’ said Sam. ‘Break legs, kids, and don’t forget to be awesome. LX 1, go. SX 1, go.’
Then there was silence, and after a pause the orchestra kicked in, the curtain rose, and Ella-Grace and Cameron launched into ‘The Green-eyed Mobster’.
Ella-Grace was amazing. The perky, long-plaited girl who spoke four different languages was gone, replaced by a sexy, curvy woman with a rich throaty voice. I was ridiculously jealous. I couldn’t help thinking back to my audition. Had I really thought I’d be able to just open my mouth and sing?
Sam was muttering lighting and sound cues to Kobe and Jules in the bio box. Jen was operating the followspot, and I was helping Jacob with props and costumes. They were all laid out on a table backstage, and it was our job to put them in the hands of the actors, or sometimes set them onstage.
It was pretty crowded backstage. The entire rest of the cast and chorus were waiting in the wings, ready to go on. They looked perfect, all feathers and sparkles and hairspray for the girls and perfectly tailored pinstriped suits for the boys.
Ella-Grace finished her song to thunderous applause, and there was a sudden stream of instructions from Sam. The orchestra swelled again, and then everyone rushed onto the stage and into the warm golden light to sing the ‘Casa Nostra’.
It was beautiful. The light twinkled on sequins and the shiny brass railing of the set. Voices rose in song and dancers spun and kicked. I wanted to be out there. I wanted to be one of them. Not stuck back here with the vast formless things in the darkness.
There was a crackle. Kobe’s voice came through the cans.
‘What would you guys do,’ he said, apropos of nothing, ‘if Jules turned into a lizard?’
Another crackle. ‘Hey!’ Jules said.
‘It wouldn’t happen,’ said Jacob, and I saw him shrug in the half-light.
‘But what if?’
I pressed the talk button on my cans. ‘There’s an old fish tank in our garage,’ I said. ‘I’d put Jules in it, and then get a heat rock from the pet shop.’
I heard Sam’s low chuckle. ‘Make sure you wash your hands first.’
‘Why?’
‘So you don’t get any lizardy diseases.’
‘I don’t have any diseases!’ Jules’s voice was getting higher.
‘Not yet, but wait until you’re a lizard.’
‘What’s a heat rock?’ asked Jacob.
‘It’s a rock,’ I told him. ‘That you heat up. Lizards like them. Anyway, once I’d done that, I’d take you to see my cousin Adam.’
‘IS HE A WIZARD?’ asked Jules.
I laughed. ‘No,’ I said. ‘He’s only six. But he’s got one.’
‘A wizard?’
‘A lizard.’
‘Okay,’ said Sam, as the orchestra died down and the talking began. ‘LX 10, go. And bring down all the mikes apart from 4, 8 and 9.’
Alexis was gorgeous in a tight-fitting white dress that flared out into ruffles at the bottom. She fluttered and smiled and blushed until not only Cameron, but also every other member of the chorus, orchestra and audience were in love with her. For a moment, I forgot all about the stuff with Jen, and what a bitch Alexis had been at the tech-run. It was a pleasure just to watch her.
Ethan came offstage, grinning hugely after the success of the opening number. He grabbed me by the waist and waltzed me round the props table. His face was smooth with foundation and eyeliner. Then he straightened his three-piece suit and hurried off to the other side of the stage for his next entrance.
I’d barely had time to think about Ethan, what with getting the show together, and Chloe, and Jen coming out and Dennis dying. He was still unbelievably handsome, but it was like the shine had come off him a little. I wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but I just wasn’t so interested anymore.
‘Um,’ said Jules quietly. ‘Is anyone going to try to turn me back into a human?’
Alexis twinkled offstage for her costume change. She only had about thirty seconds to change her dress, and it was my job to help her. She grinned breathlessly at me and spun round so I could unzip her. I grinned back, despite myself. When Alexis turned on the charm, nobody could resist her.
‘Was I okay?’ she whispered. As if she didn’t know she was fantastic. She stepped out of her dress so she was just wearing bra, undies and stockings. I caught Jacob staring at her with his tongue hanging out and glared at him.
‘You were great,’ I told her. ‘The audience loves you.’
Alexis tittered happily as I held out the new dress for her to step into. She leaned on my shoulder as she balanced on one high heel. For some reason, this made me feel more like I was cheating on Chloe than any of my flirtations with Ethan had. Not that I was particularly attracted to Alexis, but she was practically naked, and I liked her smell of hairspray and greasepaint.
I zipped the dress and handed Alexis her parasol. She winked at me and leaned forward to kiss my cheek.
