Page 55 of Am I Allergic to Men?
‘Mum, there’s about fifty pairs of knickers there. Is that really necessary?’ Beth asks.
‘Yes. We also need to buy Lucy a nightie.’ She points towards a mannequin wearing a white full-length nightdress.
‘For when the three ghosts of Christmas come to visit me?’ I ask, bent over in laughter.
She doesn’t laugh back.
Knickers bought and lunch acquired in Soho, we’re now outside the Garrick Theatre, which stands near Leicester Square currently showing a musical that’s winning many awards. I stare up at the imposing Victorian architecture with its blue windows and doors, at the large posters and glittering signs, but I feel nothing.
‘Anything?’ Mum asks as we all look up at the building.
I shake my head. ‘I was on stage there?’
‘I saw you inChicagothere as an understudy in the ensemble, called in last minute because you knew the show,’ Mum says. ‘A group of us went.’
‘Actually, a group of us nearly got thrown out because we cheered so loud at the end,’ Beth adds.
I gaze up at it again and picture it all. I like that show. That would have been fun. I would have rocked up at the stage door, sashayed in, revelled in the build-up to show time getting our hair and make-up ready, and slipping into a costume.
‘But never the lead it would seem, always making up the numbers at the back,’ I state.
‘Maybe but it’s the nature of the business. You never let it deflate you though, every small part and knockback just made you stronger, more determined to succeed,’ Grace informs me.
‘Was I decent though? Or was I flogging a dead horse?’ I joke.
‘You adored it but, yes, you were very good,’ Mum says.
That’s high praise from Mum. I’ll take that. We continue to walk past the theatre until we notice a door opening and a man starting to put out ropes, to herd the crowds and queues later on. He looks up at me.
‘Lucy Callaghan?’
I look the man in the eye. He’s short and balding, the human version of a doughball, but his face lights up to see me and he comes over. Mum has a worried expression, perhaps thinking I’ve either had sex with this man or owe him money.
‘How the hell are you?’ he says, clearly judging the new hairdo.
‘I’m really good, Mario,’ I say, spying his name badge. ‘How are you?’
‘Did someone tell me you were in an accident? I was trying to get hold of you to do a couple of shifts in the bar here and your phone was out of service.’
‘Yeah. Bit of a bad one. Phone was in the accident too unfortunately. This is my mum, Fi, and two of my sisters, Beth and Grace. Guys, this is Mario…’
Who I cannot remember at all but I obviously worked for him in some capacity. I hope I didn’t have to wear that polyester uniform. Beth looks over at me to see if I’m going to add any more detail about the accident but the truth is I can’t bear to. It’s getting tiring to see the looks of pity and sadness from people and there are times I want to just slip into that role of old Lucy, this girl who was hard-working, loved and fiery.
‘Well, this is a bloody pleasure, can’t tell you how much we love your girl.’
Mum side-eyes me, wondering how and why I curried such favour.
‘Your daughter used to make me tea, bring me cake, she’s a sweetheart and so bloody funny. Does she get that from you, Mum?’
Grace, Beth and I stare at Mum. ‘All from me…’
‘And when she’s on shift, I don’t even need to bring the extra security in. Remember that time you tackled that reporter hiding in the bins out the back? You’d have been proud of your girl, Mum. She got him with a broom handle, right in the knackers.’
Mum seems less impressed with this story but not surprised.
‘Actually, can I come in and show the guys around? We were just talking about when I was inChicagohere,’ I tell Mario.
‘Of course. Leave your new number at the office too so I can get in touch with you. I can throw you a few shifts here and there. Ashley is backstage too, I think you know each other, go and say hello…’ I have no idea who that is but he leans over to hug me and I usher my family through the door.
