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Madelaine and Sandra Fayne sat on the platform of Fenchester Railway Station, waiting for the London train to arrive. Grey snow melted into puddles and the bite in the evening air hinted at more snow to come. Maddy found a stick and amused herself by drawing faces in the snow until she heard the distant hoot of the train, and she rushed to the edge of the platform.
"Falling out in front of the train isn't going to help them get here any faster, you know," Sandra pointed out, but Maddy was too busy jumping and waving to hear her. Over her younger sister's flapping arms, Sandra could see two red heads and a black one, attached to bodies forcing their way through the press of disembarking travellers, and propriety was forgotten as she and Maddy ran to meet them.
"Hi Vicky, hi Bulldog, I hope you both bought lots of presents, Nigel!" enthused Maddy as she threw herself at Nigel and hugged him hard.
"Oof! Give over, Maddy, you've grown a lot in the last six months," Nigel laughed, trying to disentangle himself from Maddy's limpet-like grasp. Behind them, Sandra was greeting Vicky and Bulldog more sedately. Mr Halford approached the group, laden with parcels, and smiled at Sandra and Maddy.
"Good evening, Sandra, Maddy. I'm surprised not to see the Darwins with you too."
"Good evening, Mr. Halford," said Sandra politely. "Lyn and Jeremy are visiting their aunt and uncle in Cambridge this weekend; they don't come back until tomorrow."
"Ah, so they left you to fend for yourselves this weekend? Well, I'm sure with Christmas so near, you must have plenty to keep yourselves busy with. Now, go and get your bikes, and we'll give you a lift home, if you don't mind being a bit squashed in the back of the car. No sense making you cycle in this cold – we'll just tie the bikes to the luggage rack."
Sandra and Maddy chorused their thanks, as Sandra went to fetch their bikes. Maddy stuck to Nigel, bombarding him with questions.
"How was London? Is the stage school really as hard as your letters make out? Why didn't you write more? Is it as exciting as we'd hoped? Aren't you glad to be home for Christmas? Gosh, I'm cold," she finished, stamping her feet and blowing on her hands to warm them up.
Nigel laughed. "In order: exciting, yes, because I was busy, and I think I forgot the rest of your questions. Don't pester now, and Uncle Nigel will tell you everything you want to know just as soon as I'm home and warm. And well-fed – I'm starving!"
***
Although Nigel was on holidays already, the other six Blue Doors had two weeks of school left before Christmas. They quickly fell into a routine; after dinner, they'd gather for an hour or two at one of their homes to interrogate Nigel about every facet of life at stage school. It wasn't until the middle of the first week that Nigel asked about the Blue Door Theatre, and Bulldog shrugged.
"We don't go there much at the moment. I pop in every few Saturdays to weed the garden and I know Sandra went a few weeks ago to get the cobwebs down, but it's just not the same if we're not all there."
"Well, we're all here now," Maddy pointed out.
"That we are," said Jeremy. "Shall we go see how the theatre's holding up without us?"
"Let's. I'll just pop back home and get coats and scarves for me and Maddy," said Sandra. "Meet you all on the corner?"
Suitably rugged up, they cycled over to the little chapel near the docks. True to Bulldog's word, the garden was neat and tidy, and the blue door looked merrier than ever that cold winter night.
Inside, they started tidying half-heartedly as they chatted; Sandra swept away cobwebs with a broom while Vicky beat the dust out of the hassocks and Jeremy wiped the windows.
"It doesn't feel right to leave the poor place for so many months at a time," remarked Maddy, who was testing the benches for sturdiness by playing hopscotch along them. "I'm sure the theatre gets lonely without us."
"You do talk some rot," Jeremy laughed at her. "But you're right, I've missed it." Clouds of dust from Vicky's efforts enveloped him, and he vehemently enjoined her to conduct her hassock-beating outside.
Gradually, everyone gravitated backstage, and conversation turned to their past dramatic glories. "Just think," said Lyn, "this time last year we were rehearsing like mad for Cinderella, and this year we're just sitting around like lumps."
"Well, and why shouldn't we put on a pantomime this year, too?" asked Nigel. "I know we started earlier last year, but I'm on hols this year, so I can do a lot of the mundane jobs during the day while you lot are at school. And we could stage it a few days later, too, to give ourselves a bit more time to get ready."
They looked at one another, eyes shining, each caught up in imagining and remembering.
"Hi, Vick, get in here!" called Bulldog. "We're doing another pantomime!"
"Goody!" came floating back from the garden.
"We did Cinderella last year," said Sandra. "What about this year?"
"Let's not do a fairy tale this year," begged Lyn. "I fancy something different."
"How about Peter Pan?" asked Jeremy.
"Oh, better not," said Sandra. "All that flying would be dreadfully hard to manage, if we could do it at all, and an earthbound Peter Pan isn't much fun."
Bulldog objected, saying he had had some ideas about flying on stage, but nobody felt any better about the idea until Vicky poked her head around the doorway and said "What about Robin Hood?"
There was silence, as everyone thought about it, and smiles spread around the table.
"Imagine the backdrops I could paint!" said Nigel, as Bulldog started counting off the Merry Men. Jeremy got a faraway look in his eyes, already mentally planning the libretto.
"It's perfect," said Maddy.
Vicky came in with an armful of cushions, and everyone sat down around the dressing-room table, pencils and exercise books ready to help plan this latest venture.
"What about costuming? If we have a stage full of Merry Men, might not the Lincoln Green be a bit overwhelming?" Sandra asked.
"There's not enough of us to have a stage full of anything," said Maddy.
"Ha, yes, well. Sandra's got a point. We'll just have to be careful not to write too many Merry Men on stage at any point."
"Do we want a proper panto experience, with the boys dressed as frumpy women, and songs and the like?" Bulldog asked.
"We can't have a play and not let Jerry write any songs," Maddy grinned. "A play with no music? Heaven forfend!"
"I don't think we have the right cast to have the boys playing women, though," Sandra pointed out sensibly. "It worked for Cinderella, but Robin Hood has a lot of male roles and we'll struggle for actors as it is."
"All right, here's the sticky question. What about casting?" Jeremy said. Lynette turned to a fresh page in her exercise book.
"Well, after his turn as Saddler, I think Nigel's well suited for the Sheriff of Nottingham," Sandra said, and smiled. "I think I still have his villainous moustache in the costumes box."
Nigel groaned, remembering the endless succession of false moustaches and their propensity to come unglued at inconvenient times.
"Jeremy as Robin Hood, I think," added Lynette.
Jeremy nodded. "If you'd asked me two years ago I'd have laughed at you, but I don't mind."
"Jerry gets to wear tights again!" Maddy cackled, and was momentarily silenced by the cushion he threw at her head.
"Then there's Maid Marian," said Nigel. "Lynette's our leading lady, of course, but I think Sandra should play Marian."
Lynette said nothing, but inside she felt sick. She remembered last year's Christmas pantomime and how it had felt to be an afterthought, relegated to the sidelines as Buttons, and resolved to be more gracious about it this year.
"I was just thinking of our Christmas panto last year," Nigel continued. "Lynette did such a super job as Buttons, I was thinking of her as the Principal Boy - maybe Will Scarlet?"
Lynette, not trusting herself to speak, nodded and wrote "Will Scarlet" next to her name on the list in her exercise book.
"And Bulldog for Friar Tuck?" asked Jeremy.
"What about me?" Maddy wanted to know.
Bulldog sighed gloomily. "The trouble is that Robin Hood's full of men, and we've got too many girls." Then he flinched at the dark looks from Sandra and Lynette, and hastened to say "I mean, Robin Hood doesn't have enough parts for girls."
Vicky said, "Why not put Bulldog in as Little John? You can't have Robin Hood without Little John, but Jeremy can't do it because he's on as Robin, and Nigel's not stout enough for it, but Bulldog would be perfect. And then Maddy can be Friar Tuck – she's a dab hand at those character roles, and that's perfect for Friar Tuck. "
Nigel and Lyn both nodded, and Nigel said, "All right, Bulldog for Little John then. But what about you?"
Vicky blinked. "There aren't any versions of Robin Hood with a Fairy of the Forest, or a role like that, are there?"
"Well, we could probably put one in, but wouldn't that be a bit boring? You were the Fairy Godmother last year, and you were Puck when we did Shakespeare at the Church Fete. You can play more than fairies, you know."
Vicky sighed. "I know, but I don't see what else suits."
Then Sandra, who had been quietly writing while everyone debated, looked up.
"I have an idea," she said "but it does rather mean changing things around."
"Go on," encouraged Lyn.
"All right then. I think Vicky should play Maid Marian, not me. Put me in as Principal Boy, playing Alan-a-Dale, the minstrel of the Merry Men. Then Jeremy can write me a good song or two."
"We had Lyn in as the Principal Boy, playing Will Scarlet," Jeremy pointed out.
Sandra shook her head. "Yes, but Lyn was the Principal Boy last year. This is our last performance as untrained amateurs, you know – this time next year we'll be off at stage school and the lowliest of the low. We'll be getting walk-on parts if we're lucky. And Lyn's been our leading lady for so long, I think she should have something really meaty and fun to play, if this is going to be our last Blue Door performance for a few years."
Nigel approved. "That's a good idea, you know – gives Lyn a chance to go out with a bang. Did you have something in mind?"
"What about an original role?" Jeremy put in. "Alan-a-Dale's in a Robin Hood story where Robin helps him rescue his sweetheart, who's being forced to marry another man. We can adapt that. Lynette can play, oh, the Lady Anne, beloved of Alan-a-Dale, who is being forced to marry the Sheriff of Nottingham."
"I like that," said Lynette. "So - we open with Lady Anne being visited by the Sheriff? He tells her he's set a date for their wedding, and they argue – she, of course, doesn't want to marry him because she's in love with the sweet and charming Alan, but she's being forced into the marriage by her father, because the Sheriff is so powerful."
"We'll need parents for that scene, too."
"They'd only be minor parts – let's work them out when we know who's spare later."
"O.K. Then Lady Anne goes to her friend Marian to mourn her fate and the loss of her love," said Jeremy. "End of Act One. Next scene – let's see, Sherwood Forest. Various Merry Men –"
"Carousing in the forest," Maddy interjected.
"- fine, carousing in the forest. Alan asks Robin for his help in rescuing Anne. Robin promises his help, and they set out to town; when they get there they find guards around Anne's home. Marian finds them, and tells them that Anne has been imprisoned in her home so she can't escape before the wedding day."
"No fool, that Sheriff," said Nigel smugly.
"Then we start Act Three with Anne's rescue. Friar Tuck and Marian - disguised as the Friar's assistant - distract the guards while Robin and Alan sneak in to rescue Lady Anne," suggested Lynette.
"Guard, not guards, and it'll have to be Bulldog," said Sandra. "You and I will be on as Marian and Alan, Maddy will be on as the Friar, Jeremy will be on as Robin, and Nigel will be too recognisable as the Sheriff to play a guard as well."
"Oh, the perils of a small company," groaned Jeremy.
"Never mind," said Nigel, consolingly. "Just think what a luxury it'll be when we're a proper repertory company. Spare actors to play all kinds of bit parts – we won't know what to do with ourselves!"
"Won't it get confusing, having Marian dressed up as a man?" Bulldog wanted to know. "We've already got the Principal Boy, who's a girl playing a man; might the audience get confused with a female character dressing as a man too?"
"You might be right. That's a bit of a problem – we need something for Marian to do, not just be Anne's friend," said Nigel. "We'll just have to make sure someone comments on Marian's disguise so the audience knows she's meant to be a girl disguised as a man, not just an actress playing a man."
"And I can make her disguise obviously false," said Sandra. "It only has to be a stage disguise, after all, not a real one."
"All right then," said Lyn, keen to get back to the story. "So Anne has been rescued, and we close Act Three with Anne and Alan's wedding, performed in secret – perhaps in the forest – by Friar Tuck?"
"That sounds good," said Sandra, still writing furiously.
Nigel nodded. "That's a good solid story, although the set for the rescue is going to be horribly tricky, I think. Bulldog, I'm going to need your ingenuity there. " Bulldog shrugged equably.
"Sandra, break out the cocoa," said Lyn. "We have our plot, but there's reams of dialogue to write yet!"
***
Even though it had been six months since Saddler's Circus, the Blue Doors fell naturally back into every habit and routine they'd developed since they staged their first production. They spent every night and every Saturday at the theatre, and rose as early as they could manage to rehearse every morning.
Sandra swept into a flurry of taking up and letting out and turning down the theatre's costume supply, while Bulldog replaced all the lights and Jeremy spent two straight nights at the piano writing music. Nigel, who had neither school nor homework to distract him, spent hours slathering paint onto canvas for the backcloths and doing all the odd jobs nobody else had time to finish. And all the time, everyone mumbled lines; they'd never before had to memorise a three act play in just a couple of weeks.
"…and I tell you truly, my Lady, you will be my wife," muttered Nigel, repainting a bit of balcony railing.
"…John, where's Robin, for I have news he must hear. Little John, where's Robin, for I have news he must hear. Little John, where's Robin," Vicky chanted as she practised waltz steps.
"My love, fear not, for I am here to save you!" exclaimed Sandra as she held a cassock up against Maddy to measure the hem.
"What God has joined, let no man tear ow Sandra, stop sticking me with pins," Maddy complained.
Lyn, watching the scene, smiled fondly and went on blocking out stage directions in her head.
"You know," said Nigel, cleaning his paintbrush, "these backdrops are going to be a real nuisance to change, since two of them appear in scenes after they've been taken down. We'll have to be careful with them."
Rehearsals continued apace as the pantomime came together. Lyn directed proceedings with a careful eye, although Nigel had a lot of suggestions to make, usually preceded with "At school we learnt to…" Tempers inevitably frayed as the play lost its sparkle and newness and eventually, a week after rehearsals started, matters came to a head. Maddy, as Friar Tuck, was clowning with Bulldog in the last scene of the second act.
"What say you, Little John – shall we raise our cups and drink to Alan's love?" Maddy declaimed, hoisting a tankard high.
Bulldog, as Little John, began to reply "Indeed, good Father, for –" when Nigel interrupted.
"Is the Friar really funny enough? He and Little John are meant to be the comic relief of the pantomime, and heaven knows Maddy and Bulldog are good at clowning, but the Friar – and Maddy – seem too serious," Nigel said.
"The Friar's meant to be a bit of a drunkard, isn't he?" asked Bulldog. "Couldn't we play that up a bit, perhaps shades of Sir Toby Belch?"
"That's what I was thinking," Nigel agreed.
Lyn shook her head. "It's all very well to have comic relief, but I don't think we should make the Friar too disreputable. He's meant to be a man of the cloth, after all, and it wouldn't do to make him a drunk."
"Just think how the audience might feel," Sandra put in. "The vicar and the bishop may very well be here, and think how awful it would be if it seemed we were being disrespectful."
"But the comic relief in a pantomime ought to be a bit, well, coarse," Nigel said, frowning. "When they taught us about pantomimes at school, they said–"
"I don't care what they said," Lyn flared angrily. "All you go on about is what you learnt about at the school, and now you think you know better than the rest of us, though you've only been there six months. Staging a 'proper' panto isn't worth being rude to the bishop and the vicar, who've done so much to support us. You wouldn't be at that school – none of us would be going – if it weren't for them."
Silence fell.
"You're right," Nigel said shortly. "Rudeness would be inexcusable."
He got up, and started repainting some of the details on the backcloth, and was very quiet for the rest of the rehearsal. Sandra looked worriedly between him and Lynette, while Maddy and Jeremy started talking loudly about her part of one of the songs. The rehearsal finished early that night, and the Blue Doors said goodnight at their respective houses rather awkwardly.
The next evening's rehearsal saw a conspicuous absence of Nigel, who didn't arrive with the other Halfords after dinner. "He's seeing a school friend tonight," Bulldog explained. "Said he wasn't in any of the scenes we were going to rehearse tonight, and wanted a night off."
There were shrugs all around, but privately everyone felt sick and tense at the thought of Nigel choosing a mere school friend over the theatre. The rehearsal was a sad, lopsided affair; it didn't seem the same without Nigel's expansive cheer, and more than one of the Blue Doors found themselves starting to ask Nigel what he thought of a question before remembering his absence.
Subdued, they closed up the theatre for the night, before Sandra remembered she bore a message. "I nearly forgot – Maddy and I ran into the vicar and Mrs. Bell in town this afternoon, and Mrs. Bell asked us all to tea on Saturday. I said that Maddy and I should love to, but I couldn't say whether you were all free or not." Jeremy and Lyn said that they were, and Vicky spoke up for the Halfords.
"Nigel too?" asked Jeremy.
"I don't see why not," said Bulldog. "He can't have that many school friends needing a visit."
***
Despite being the first night of the holidays, Friday night's rehearsal was stiff and uncomfortable; Nigel was there, but the tension was palpable. Everyone was on edge and anxious, and consequently made silly mistakes, until Lyn was despairing of the pantomime ever being ready in time.
Saturday dawned crisp and clear, wisps of clouds scudding across a cold pale sky. After breakfast, Sandra went along to the Halfords and rang for Vicky, who came to the front door still nibbling a piece of toast.
"Shall we do our Christmas shopping this morning?" Sandra asked. "I don't think we'll get much done at the theatre today if it's anything like it was last night, and if I sew any more seams my hands will fall off."
"Good idea," Vicky agreed. "I'll just tell Bulldog so he doesn't wait for me."
The girls strolled through the town, browsing for Christmas presents, and eventually stopped for morning tea at a milk bar.
Sandra sighed over her plate of raisin toast. "I do wish Lyn and Nigel would make up again so we can get back to rehearsing properly. The longer we leave it, the worse the rush will be at the last minute. And we can't get any work done with the atmosphere the way it is."
"Yes," said Vicky, between unladylike slurps of her milkshake, "but will they? They're both awfully strong-willed, you know."
"Ye-e-es," said Sandra doubtfully. "I can't imagine that either of them would want to put the Blue Door Theatre at risk, but neither of them will swallow their pride. It's infuriating."
"The trouble is that they were both right," said Vicky. "Well, not about Friar Tuck, but the argument wasn't really about that anyway. Nigel's been awfully annoying these hols, with his 'At school we do this' and his 'My teachers said that' everywhere you turn. On the other hand, he really does have good ideas, and I keep missing his suggestions when he's not there."
"And it's got Lyn's nose out of joint now. She gets frustrated enough when she's producing one of our plays anyway, without one of us suddenly becoming an overnight expert. Some days I think the artistic temperament is more trouble than it's worth," Sandra agreed with some asperity.
"Can we do anything, though?" Vicky wanted to know.
Sandra thought for a moment. "Well, we're going to the Vicarage for tea this afternoon. Why don't I talk to Jeremy, and he can draw the Vicar into conversation with Bulldog. You and I can distract Maddy with some of Mrs. Bell's old pictures, and that leaves Lynette and Nigel to make conversation with Mrs. Bell. And she's such a dear, nobody could stay angry around her."
Vicky agreed that this sounded like a good idea, and soon the girls were finishing their morning tea in a happier mood. Their Christmas shopping didn't take long, and they parted at lunchtime for a few hours of work – set-building in Vicky's case, and dying tights in Sandra's.
***
Afternoon tea-time saw Vicky and Sandra reunited at the vicarage doorstep, along with all the other Halfords, Faynes and Darwins of various sizes. Mrs Bell ushered them through into the vicarage, and lively chatter broke out about their school terms, Nigel's stay in London, and their plans for Christmas.
"And I hear you're preparing a new Christmas pantomime for us this year?" Mrs. Bell enquired politely. Everyone nodded.
"Yes," said Sandra. "We thought we'd do Robin Hood this year – not a fairy tale, but still just the right sort of story for a pantomime, and Nigel's painted some lovely scenery for it."
"That's wonderful to hear," said Mrs. Bell warmly. "And how are you all getting along with it, then? It isn't long until Christmas now – it must be a terrible rush for you to get it all done."
There was an awkward silence for a moment, until Maddy leapt into the breach. "Well, we did have some problems at the start with having too many girls and not enough boys for the roles, but we got around that by writing a new story with some extra parts for girls," she explained, prevaricating a bit.
"I see," said Mrs. Bell thoughtfully, looking around at them all. "Well, you've triumphed over so many difficulties to get this far, I'm sure something like that is hardly an obstacle to such an experienced troupe." She smiled at them. "Now, I think I hear the vicar; is everyone ready for some tea?"
Tea was duly served, along with a tempting assortment of cakes and scones. Over tea, the vicar asked Nigel what he thought of the drama school, and whether the others would enjoy it when they got there. Nigel responded tactfully that he felt he would learn a lot there, although he knew that some of the others were much better than him at many facets of stagecraft. Lyn, who had looked rather glum all afternoon, looked a bit happier at that.
After they'd finished tea, the vicar invited them to join him on a walk about the grounds. Sandra looked meaningfully at Jeremy, who gazed back vacantly until recollection struck him, and, plucking at Bulldog's sleeve, he hurried to catch up with the vicar. "I say, Vicar, Bulldog and I were rather wondering about how you used to manage some of the staging details of your amateur theatricals. Would you mind if we prevailed upon your experience?"
"Not at all!" exclaimed the vicar. "I'd be delighted to advise, if I can be of any use. What did you want to know?" The three of them disappeared off into the garden.
Sandra met Vicky's eyes, and said "Hi, Maddy, come and look at these flowers. Don't they remind you of the geraniums at Auth Ruth's cottage?" She towed Maddy towards a flowerbed, and Vicky trailed after them vaguely, leaving Lyn and Nigel behind with Mrs. Bell.
"Good," muttered Vicky quietly. "Mrs. Bell will see right through them both, and then we can get back to rehearsing properly."
Sandra nodded. "I know they've bickered before, but honestly, nobody wants Christmas spoilt because they're both too stubborn and proud to apologise."
Maddy looked from Sandra to Vicky and back again. "You devious people!" she said approvingly. "Sandra, I never thought you had it in you." She craned her neck for an unimpeded view of the pair talking with Mrs. Bell, only to be hastily pulled back by Sandra.
Once it seemed that both Nigel and Lynette were safely ensconced with Mrs. Bell, the other girls relaxed and took seats at the garden table to enjoy the day. From the corner of her eye, Maddy could see Lynette and Nigel slowly thawing, addressing comments to each other as well as Mrs. Bell. She did a little dance in her seat, a jig of glee; it looked as though the pantomime would go ahead safely after all. By the time the boys and the vicar walked back from the other side of the grounds, the other three girls were chatting merrily with Mrs. Bell – and Lyn and Nigel.
Nigel looked up at their approach. "There you all are, good. Vicar, Mrs. Bell, I think we've prevailed upon your hospitality long enough – the day is getting on, and we really ought to get the wedding scene rehearsed today. We've only got nine days to be ready, you know. Eight, if you don't count Christmas."
Everyone gathered their coats, thanked the Bells for the lovely tea, and made their farewells. In the street outside, Nigel stopped and turned to the others.
"Look, I was being a right fool, and I know it. We always got along perfectly well with our own instincts before, and I shouldn't have mucked that up."
"Never mind," said Lyn firmly. "I shouldn't have lost my temper – you did have a good point, and I didn't listen. Shall we forget it all, and just get on with it?"
Nigel nodded, and stuck out a hand. "Water under the bridge?"
Lyn shook his hand firmly, and laughed. "Of course, you realise all this has just made it worse for ourselves; we've all but wasted three days of precious rehearsal time."
"You might have wasted it," Maddy interjected. "The rest of us have been busy rehearsing at home anyway. You both have a lot of lines to catch up on!" She sounded gleeful, and Nigel set upon her, tickling mercilessly until she cried Uncle.
***
Everything went smoothly after that, as though all the ill winds and misfortune that plagued every production were all exorcised with the spectre of the fight. Now that school had broken up, everyone had time to memorise their lines. Bulldog and Vicky had an ingenious idea for suspending the backcloths from removable curtain rails, Jeremy's music was easy to learn, and everyone was being as considerate and co-operative as they could.
In fact, only the wardrobe mistress was frustrated. Costumes for Jeremy and Bulldog were easily managed, being simple tunics of green baize and hose of brown cotton. Sandra's own costume, as Alan-a-Dale, was much the same, although cut differently for modesty's sake. Maid Marian and Lady Anne had gowns created from old costumes; Sandra's costume from last year's Cinderella was refashioned into a gown for Maid Marian, while Lady Anne's gown was simply Lyn's Juliet costume with some alterations to look more medieval. The Sheriff of Nottingham's costume was more of a bother, as Nigel had grown a lot in the last few months and didn't fit most of their stored-away costumes any more; eventually Sandra cleverly contrived a doublet from rather lavish upholstery fabric she found remaindered at the haberdasher's.
But one costume eluded her: Friar Tuck's. The outfit was simplicity itself; a cassock made of an old brown blanket and belted with plaited string, sandals, and a large cross Bulldog made of wooden scenery offcuts. But try as she might, Sandra could not work out how to make Maddy look like a tonsured monk. She started looking more worried at every rehearsal, until Jeremy started offering to shave Maddy's head.
Rehearsing all day every day made the days speed by, and Christmas drew near. Late on Thursday afternoon, two and a half weeks after Nigel arrived home for the holidays, the Blue Doors gathered around the dressing-room table. Silence reigned for a moment, until Nigel spoke.
"Well, here we are then. Tomorrow is Christmas Day. Saturday is our dress rehearsal, Sunday is our day of rest, and Monday night is the performance. It's been a topsy-turvy fortnight, but it's a good play and we know it well," he pronounced.
"Oh, thankyou, Wise Old Uncle," Jeremy mocked.
"We're late for dinner, you know," Sandra pointed out mildly, and Nigel sat up hastily.
"Oh blow it, so we are, and Mother asked us to be home early tonight too. We'd better scram."
"I say," said Jeremy as they closed up the theatre for the night. "Are we still on for carol-singing after dinner?"
"Of course!" Vicky answered, and Sandra agreed. "Meet at the corner – eight o'clock?" General assent greeted this suggested, and they hastened for home full of the Christmas spirit.
Eight o'clock saw a chilled but happy group of Blue Doors gathering on the pavement outside the Halfords' house, Jeremy carrying his violin case. Slowly they worked their way down the street, stopping every few houses to sing two or three carols and then moving on. Most of them might never match Sandra's standard as singers, but after singing together for two years their voices blended perfectly, and more than one resident listened spellbound to the sweetly-sung carols. At each house Maddy would proffer a tin cup with a little painted sign proclaiming that they were collecting for the vicar's War Orphans fund, and they were invariably rewarded with a few coins and a happy word.
Eventually they made their way back up their street, stopping first outside the Faynes' house to sing two carols, and then outside the Darwins' for two more. As Maddy held out the receptacle for donations, Sandra suddenly realized she'd been using Friar Tuck's tankard as her 'tin cup' for the entire night. She smiled to herself, unwilling to spoil the warm glow with scolding, and they took up places outside the Halfords' home for the last carols of the night.
"God rest ye merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay…"
***
Friday was, of course, Christmas Day, and filled with gift-giving and excessively large Christmas dinners. It had snowed early that morning, so Fenchester was blanketed with crisp, unsullied white. Maddy sat at the front window after lunch, head pillowed on her arms, watching the world go by. She looked up at Sandra, who was coming up behind her with a hairbrush and ribbon. "Merry Christmas, Sandra," she said happily. "I think this is the best Christmas yet."
The Blue Doors gathered to exchange gifts after lunch, and made plans to meet the next day for the dress rehearsal. When they arrived at the theatre, the last of the snow was melting from the pavements and Bulldog and Jeremy grabbed brooms to sweep a clear path to the theatre's door.
"We shall have to do that again on Monday night if it snows tomorrow or Monday," Nigel reminded them, and Bulldog grumbled that there wasn't much point sweeping it now if they only had to sweep it again later anyway.
Inside, everyone set down their bags of props, costumes and books they'd been working on over Christmas, and Sandra suppressed a smile. "Maddy, you come with me, and everyone else, you wait there," she ordered, leading Maddy into the girls' dressing room. There was a startled yelp from Maddy, hastily suppressed, and then an "oooh!" The Halfords and Darwins looked at each other, mystified.
"That's it, she's finally snapped," Jeremy proclaimed sententiously. "Maddy has provoked Sandra into outright assault. I knew it was only a matter of time."
"Stop clowning, Jeremy," Sandra called. "Now, everyone, shut your eyes please." There was rustling from the other side of the divider. "Eyes all closed?"
"Yes!" they chorused.
"Good," said Sandra smugly, now in the room. "O.K., you can open your eyes now."
They did, and in front of them stood a brown-robed and tonsured friar, beaming and saluting with a tankard.
"Sandra!" Lyn gasped. "How did you do it?"
"I knew it!" crowed Jeremy. "I knew shaving her head was the answer."
Sandra smiled happily. "Not at all, Jeremy. All I needed was the right inspiration. Maddy got a new bathing suit for Christmas from Aunt Ruth, and that made me think of bathing caps."
"Who on earth gives a bathing suit as a gift in December?" Bulldog wondered.
"Aunt Ruth!" said Madelaine impishly, and stuck out her tongue at Bulldog.
"Anyway, I went into town today and found a pinkish-beigeish bathing cap, and I glued layers and layers of hair around it. Presto, one tonsure! It's a bit of a pain tucking Maddy's plaits away underneath it, but I think I can work out how to get them to sit properly by Monday."
"Sandra, you're a genius," Nigel said warmly. "It's perfect. That was our last obstacle, all solved!"
A knock sounded from the front of the theatre, and Maddy scampered off to answer it. Jeremy grinned. "Whoever that is, is going to get quite a shock. Imagine being greeted by a ten-year-old girl dressed up as a middle-aged bald man!" There was general laughter, renewed when Mrs. Bell's surprised tones could be heard from the theatre.
Maddy reappeared shortly afterwards, carrying a parcel and capering ahead of Mrs. Bell. She put the parcel on the table and gestured. "Just look! The Vicar and lovely Mrs. Bell gave our theatre a present for Christmas!" Jeremy took the parcel, and looked around for everyone's assent, before sliding the blade of his pocketknife in to separate the wrapping.
Inside lay a stack of printed paper, and Maddy grinned. "Mrs. Bell asked me for all the details when we went for lunch last week, and the Vicar had these printed up as a Christmas gift for us!" She passed around a small pile to the group, beaming at the surprise.
The others looked at the sheets of paper in their hands; neatly printed on green paper was a programme for the play.
The Blue Door Theatre Company is pleased to present our final amateur performance. The Green Wood: a Tale of Robin Hood Come and bring your friends and families to the Blue Door Theatre, Pleasant Street, on December 28th at 7.30. There will be a collection in aid of St. Michael's War Orphans Fund. Characters
Costumes: Sandra Fayne
Act One
Act Two
Act Three |
Lynette looked around at the others. "Final amateur performance it may be, but we'll be back. We couldn't leave lovely people like the Bells and the Bishop without a theatre!" Everyone voiced their assent, and Vicky asked Mrs. Bell if she'd like to stay for the dress rehearsal.
"Oh no, dear, I'm sure you don't need me underfoot. You're all capable enough to judge when something's right or not without my say-so, and for my part I'd much prefer to see it for the first time on Monday night." She smiled at them all fondly. "Besides, I have a lot of cleaning to help with after yesterday's services."
Buoyed by such a happy start, the dress rehearsal went from strength to strength. Reciting lines to every mundane household task had paid off, for everyone knew their parts word-perfectly; the interplay crackled, and they all agreed that it was one of their best dress rehearsals ever.
"Now, if only we can perform so well in two days' time!" Nigel said, grinning.
Perversely, Lyn felt pessimistic. "Isn't a terrible dress rehearsal supposed to be the sign of a good opening? I hope the reverse doesn't hold true."
Unexpectedly, Maddy spoke up. "Don't worry, Lyn," she said stoutly. "It's good, you know, and we know it all by heart now. If things go wrong they go wrong, and no sense worrying about it."
"Out of the mouths of babes!" someone said, and they left the theatre laughing.
***
A day and a half later the atmosphere was anything but tranquil. Everyone arrived at the theatre after a light lunch, and set about preparing for the performance. Sandra was determinedly calm, restitching a few seams burst during Friday's riotous rehearsal. Bulldog and Vicky were rigging up the backcloths in order, and Nigel was compulsively re-painting the details on a piece of the set over and over. Jeremy was smoking cigarette after cigarette, Lynette was pacing and snarling at anyone who got near her, and Maddy was practising headstands in a corner.
Finally Nigel had had enough. "This is ridiculous, children, we're going to worry ourselves into early graves. Let's do something, anything, to take our minds off this."
They milled around the docks for a while, watching the ships and drinking lemonade, until it was time to prepare. Back in the theatre, they dressed and made themselves up quietly – all the horseplay had been used up – and by some unspoken consensus they gathered around the table in the dressing-room.
"Two and a half years since we found this place," said Vicky. "I never would have guessed then that I'd end up here. Just think! Only a few more months and then we're off to London and dramatic school!"
"Not all of us are," muttered Maddy rebelliously; missing out on drama school due to her age was still a sore point with her.
"No, not all of us. Sorry, Maddy. But still … when we moved to Fenchester, I never would have thought I'd have appeared in – and helped write and produce – more than half a dozen plays before I was eighteen."
"I didn't even want to be an actor then," Nigel remembered. "I wanted to do art, and was stuck with being a barrister. You wanted to dance, Jeremy wanted to do music, Lyn wanted to act, Sandra wanted to sing … and here we are, getting all we wanted and more besides. It feels too good to be true."
"It feels exactly good enough and just the sort of thing that ought to be true," said Maddy firmly.
"I quite agree," said Lyn. "We were lucky that our parents eventually gave in to the bishop's arguments about our careers, and we've been very fortunate to have such staunch advocates like the vicar and the bishop. But it's not luck that got us here – we've all worked jolly hard for this, you know."
Mr. Darwin, ushering again with Mr. Fayne, stuck his head through the doorway. "The theatre's nearly full, you lot. Shall we get everyone settled and quiet?"
"Please do, Dad," said Jeremy.
Nigel looked around at the rest of the Blue Doors, six people as close to him as any family could be. He smiled, suddenly. "This is just the first step, you know. Our last show in Fenchester – for now! – but we have a lot ahead of us yet. It's going to be great."
"We're going to be great," Lyn amended. "Alright, it's time. Places, people. As Portia said – I pray you, know me when we meet again: I wish you well, and so I take my leave." She swept from the room to take her place for the first scene, and the rest of them followed – ready for the swish of the curtain.