Murder in the Second Row by Bev Robitai Page B

wouldn’t
let a girl do that all by herself, would you?’
    His cheeks
flushed bright pink. ‘No really, you go ahead, Tamara. I just want
a cup of coffee.’
    ‘Stewie!’ She
ran her arm through his but he pulled away abruptly. She bounced to
her feet. ‘What’s the matter with you,’ she yelled. ‘Are you gay or
something?’
    There was a
sudden hush in the Green Room. Stewart bolted for the door and
disappeared.
    ‘What?’ said
Tamara defensively. ‘I didn’t think he was.’
    ‘And he may not
be,’ said Jessica. ‘Either way, it’s his own business. Don’t hassle
him.’
    Tamara pouted
and flounced off to get herself a drink.
    ‘All right,
everybody,’ said Adam, his voice carrying easily over the chatter
that had broken out. ‘When you’ve finished your break, get back
onstage and continue from where we stopped. See if you can get your
lines without reading. I’d like books down by the end of next week
so your memorising should be well along by now.’
    There was a
universal groan from the cast.
    Adam crossed
the room and spoke quietly to Jessica. ‘Round them up and get them
back to work in five minutes if I’m not back, would you? I’ll just
have a word with young Stewart.’
    She nodded.
‘Will do.’ Then, ‘I think he’ll appreciate that. You might be able
to help, um, clarify things for him.’
    Adam quirked an
eyebrow at her and made a discreet exit.
     
    Jessica gave
them six more minutes of break, then called the cast back onstage
to run through Act two, scene two. Adam returned shortly afterwards
and took over from her with murmured thanks.
    Jessica stayed
to read through the stage directions for the following acts, and,
upon reading that character Ginevra was to enter with a long knife,
she quietly went backstage to find Gert. She located her in the
upstairs props cage, cheerfully searching through numerous sets of
drawers.
    ‘You’d think
we’d have a hypodermic syringe here somewhere, wouldn’t you dear?
Surely we must have done something medical once upon a time?’
    ‘Gert, you know
Ginevra has a big knife onstage – well, it won’t be sharp or
anything, will it?’
    ‘Of course not,
Jessica! All stage props are made as harmless as possible, you know
that.’
    ‘Yeah, I know.
I’m just getting a bit jumpy with all the strong emotions flying
round the place. There are several people I can imagine wanting to
use a deadly weapon on various members of this company.’
    ‘Well that’s
nothing new for the theatre, is it! Remember when the lead man in
Dick Whittington got together with the top dancer and ran off with
her after the show? I’m sure his poor wife would have brained him
with the London milestone given half a chance.’
    Jessica
laughed. ‘The show’s most dramatic scene was backstage in the Green
Room, wasn’t it! But at least that show was a comedy. With this
one, it feels like we’re stirring up evil spirits just by reading
the script. It scares me to think how things would go if the actors
had instruments of death in their hot little hands.’
    ‘Your
imagination is running away with you, my dear. Such a sensitive wee
thing.’ Gert patted her on the arm. ‘Now, off you go and let me get
at that shelf behind you. Thank you. Aha, there we are!’ She waved
a dusty plastic syringe triumphantly. ‘Got it! I knew we’d have one
somewhere.’
     
    Jessica went
back to the stage where Adam was demonstrating to the company how
to find their correct position.
    ‘Once the
lights are rigged and cued, they’ll guide you. For now we’ll use
that work light.’ He put his hands on Stewart’s thin shoulders and
eased him gently a few steps across the floor. ‘Now, close your
eyes. Can you feel the heat of the light?’
    Stewart
nodded.
    ‘Turn your head
from side to side. When the heat is strongest in the middle of your
face, you’re on the right spot.’
    Stewart opened
his eyes in surprise. ‘Yes, I can feel it! Hey, that’s