Page 28 of Second Act at Appleton Green
‘Oh wow,’ she said, feeling the rush of success through her body. It never mattered how big the role; being chosen was always a special feeling.
‘Yes indeed, we start tomorrow night for a read-through, so don’t be late,’ he said and before she could say a thing, the line went dead.
Lily walked back into Pippin Cottage, where Nick and Gran both turned to look at her expectantly.
She shrugged. ‘I guess I’m playing Eliza for the summer,’ she said and then did a spin.
Nick grinned at her and Gran clapped her hands.
‘Oh wonderful, I’ll have to stay alive for a little bit longer now to see my girl sing the role of a lifetime.’
Nick laughed at Gran’s words but Lily saw a flash of something else in her grandmother’s face, just for a moment, that sent a shiver of something unfamiliar through her bones, and as much as she didn’t want to face it, she wondered if this really would be Gran’s last summer.
12
Lily stood outside the village hall, staring at the weathered wooden doors. Her heart pounded as she wondered what lay on the other side. She could hear the faint sound of piano keys and chatter filtering through the cracks. This was supposed to be simple, just a local production in a small village, but it didn’t feel simple at all. In fact, it felt enormous. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
The room was a swirl of activity, with people bustling around. Sheila was standing next to a pile of scripts, writing on a clipboard, while Jasper was pointing out lighting on the makeshift stage. Bernadette, his tiny Pomeranian, watched with mild indifference from a pillow in the corner. Lily hesitated at the entrance, feeling like an outsider in a place that should have been welcoming.
‘Oh, look, everyone, it’s our Eliza.’ Jessica’s voice cut through the room like a knife. She stood by the piano, a script in one hand and a smug expression on her face. ‘Our West End darling has graced us with her presence.’ Jessica was wearing black cigarette pants, ballet flats and a striped Breton top, and her dark straight hair was in a high ponytail with a black ribbon in it, making her more Audrey than Audrey herself.
Lily forced a polite smile, her stomach twisting. ‘Hi, Jessica,’ she replied, moving further into the hall. She could feel eyes on her, some curious, some expectant. She tried to keep her focus ahead, on Nick, who was setting up chairs in the front row.
She wished she had worn something better than her jeans and rugby top and trainers, but then she remembered she never wore clothes like Jess and why would she start now? She was comfortable and that’s what mattered.
‘Good to see you, Lily,’ he said, his smile easing some of her tension. He leaned and whispered to her, ‘Ignore Jess. She’s a bit put out. She’ll get over it.’
‘What role is she playing?’ she whispered in return, glancing at Jess who was talking to Jasper, while Bernadette snarled at her.
‘Mrs Higgins,’ he said and made a face.
‘The mother?’ Lily turned to Jess and looked at Nick. ‘She is far too beautiful to be the mother. No wonder she hates me. Who told her about me being on the West End?’
‘I mentioned it, so people would have told her.’ said Nick. ‘I mean it’s not exactly a secret. People talk. Besides you should be proud of yourself.’
‘You sound like my mother,’ she said and gave a large sigh.
‘Is your mother very proud of you?’ asked Nick as he adjusted the chairs.
‘Stupidly, undeservedly so,’ she said. Explaining Denise to people was hard because everyone thought it was great to have a mum so invested and supportive, but they didn’t realise the expectations that came with it.
Sheila clapped her hands. ‘Everyone, take your places. It’s time for the read-through.’
Gathering around the trestle tables that had been set up, the cast members took their places, as Sheila handed them each a script, a highlighter and a pencil.
Lily sat down next to Nick, nerves rising as she took her script and saw her name –Miss Eliza Doolittle – Lily Baxter.
Nick nudged her with his elbow. ‘It’s exciting isn’t it? I love a new script.’
He gave her an encouraging look that made her feel, if only momentarily, that everything would be good, perhaps even lovely.
She looked up and sitting straight across from them was Jess, her eyes narrowed as she stared at Lily, her mouth in a thin line. Lily was sure she could feel the poisoned darts being sent her way.
Jasper clasped his hands. ‘Righto, let’s start with Act One,’ he said, his voice resonating off the old walls of the hall.
Lily opened her script after a long breath, her fingers shaking just a little. She looked at the lyrics, the well-known Eliza Doolittle lines, and urged herself to sink into the part. Her voice started off a little wobbly, but as the words came out her confidence grew. She felt her cockney accent running off her tongue as smoothly as if she had spoken that way her whole life. She felt herself sinking into character. She sensed a spark, a flash of the passion that had defined her, for the first time in months. God, she had missed this.
As they worked through the script, the voices of the characters bounced around the room.
