Page 52 of For Love or Money
‘They’re thinking of September.’
‘So soon.’ Conor sucked air in through his teeth like a plumber about to give an exorbitant estimate, and flipped back through the diary.
‘Right. We’re doing some of Beckett’s shorter plays in September,’ he said, tapping a page as he spoke. ‘I could put Jane and Peter intoEndgame. Lorcan’s directing. Rehearsals would be in August.’ He looked up. ‘How does that sound?’ he asked, his eyes flicking between them both questioningly.
Lesley thought it sounded like a nightmare, but she said nothing. She had no idea what it had to do with stopping Peter marrying Stella anyway. Even if Peter was busy with the play in September, they could easily shift the date of their wedding. It would only delay it by a month or two at best.
Conor was still looking at them with a satisfied expression, as if he had just presented them with the perfect solution. He clearly wasn’t the mastermind Al’s family took him for. Lesley turned to Al and was glad to see he looked as confused as she felt.
‘Um ... that sounds very interesting,’ he said hesitantly. ‘The whole Beckett thing, I mean. I’m sure it’ll be great. But you know Jane doesn’t act anymore.’
‘She will if I ask her,’ Conor said calmly.
‘And Peter’s been ill. He’s not really fit to go back to work yet.’
‘It’s a short show, just an hour and a quarter, and there’ll only be six performances. It’ll be a nice way for Peter to ease himself back into work.’
‘But what about the dustbins? Wouldn’t that be a bit of a strain for him?’
‘Your grandfather was crippled with arthritis when he did it. Peter’s a trooper. He’ll be fine.’
‘What’s this about dustbins?’ Lesley asked, frowning.
Al turned to her. ‘InEndgame, this old couple, Nagg and Nell, are in dustbins for the whole play. You can only see the tops of their heads sticking out.’
‘Oh!’ She looked at Conor. ‘That sounds like elderly abuse to me.’
‘That’s certainly one interpretation,’ Conor said complacently. ‘You’ve never seen it? You must come.’
Lesley didn’t think that’d be happening. ‘Thanks, but I hate the theatre.’
Conor guffawed, as if she’d just told the best joke.
‘She’s serious,’ Al said. ‘She really does.’
Conor’s laughter stopped abruptly and he scowled deeply, looking at Lesley as if she was some kind of alien monster.
‘Anyway,’ Lesley said, ‘I don’t see what shoving Jane and Peter into dustbins on a stage has to do with Peter marrying Stella.’
‘Explain it to her, Al,’ Conor said.
‘Um ...’ Al looked blank. ‘I’m afraid I don’t get it either,’ he admitted.
Conor sighed wearily and leaned on the desk. ‘Peter and Jane are actors,’ he began, as if explaining something very simple to a couple of particularly stupid children.
‘Jane isn’t anymore,’ Lesley interrupted.
‘They met in a rehearsal room,’ he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘They’ve spent half their lives on stage together. The theatre is their world, their family. Get them back in a show together and they’ll soon come to their senses and remember who they are. They’ll forget all this nonsense about splitting up and marrying other people.’
‘Oh! Do you think that will work?’ Lesley asked.
‘Of course it’ll work.’
His confidence was compelling. ‘You know, you could be right.’
‘I am,’ he said calmly. ‘I’m always right. Ask Al.’
‘He is,’ Al said.
