24th Autumn 508AV Eleventh Bell The walk from the Quill’s Rest to the Lightshow Theatre took longer than Adelaide had intended. The final draft of her script tucked under her arm, she wound her way through the Old Quarter, down old rickety alleys and under antique sign posts. Up ahead, she saw a clock indicating the beginning of the eleventh bell and Adelaide knew that she was already too late, that she had missed her appointment. Why the hell hadn’t she left when she intended instead of letting Gideon talk her into yet another drink? Petch! Petch it all and petch Gideon! Adelaide ran as fast as she could, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long and that she was already out of breath. By the time she saw the sign to the Lightshow Theatre looming at the end of the road, she had slowed to a brisk walk, panting slightly. Being this unfit pained her and it was with sweat patches lacing her underarms and back that she entered the Lightshow Theatre. It was cool and dark inside and completely silent, so much so that Adelaide wondered if she had gone to the wrong place when suddenly she heard shouting. Moving towards the sound of the voice, she perceived a man and a woman. “Good morning?” she said, uncertainly, wondering what the commotion could be about. “This is a petching catastrophe Beatrice. I told you! I told you!” The man had his arms raised and looked exasperated. “I told you we should never have put on the damn thing. You didn’t listen to me.” The woman sniffed slightly, lifting her chin. “I’m sorry, but can you help me?” Adelaide asked, interrupting the couple. The man looked at her, affronted, “What?” “I have an appointment about a play I wrote.” “Come back tomorrow.” Adelaide was about to argue but, noting the ire in the man’s voice, thought better of it. If she was ever to have any luck of having a play of hers put on, she would have to wait. She started walking back the way she came, back towards the door. “Wait! Come back!” Adelaide turned around as the man addressed her, “Can you sew?” The man seemed furious and Adelaide bridled slightly. As if she hadn’t heard him, or had some sort of mental issue, he repeated, purposefully slow and sarcastic, “Can. You. Sew?!” Adelaide, realising that holding back from giving him an answer was not a wise choice, nodded, “Yes. Yes, sort of, fairly well.” “Good.” He seemed to calm down, and then placed his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes, “I’m sorry, but this is urgent.” He tossed her a gold miza which, quite to her surprise since her hand-eye coordination was poor to say the least, she caught deftly in her right hand. He continued, “Beatrice, take her to the costume department. Get her to work finishing the dresses for the ghosts. And quick! Quick!” With that, the man strode off. “But.. my play!” Adelaide called after him. He didn’t turn around and Adelaide was left, completely confused, with the young woman called Beatrice, “Is it always like this around here?” Beatrice shrugged and started walking in a different direction, indicating that Adelaide should follow her, “Not always but let’s just say that John has an artistic temperament and we currently have a shortage of hands in the costume department. On top of that, Agnes seems to have disappeared off the face of the Earth.” she sighed, “Thank God I’m not involved in this production." “Oh.” “The Princess and the Captain. It’s an Opera, of sorts, and this is the third time the Lightshow Theatre is attempting to put it on. The first attempt never got off the ground. The second attempt didn’t last longer than the opening night. This time, John is determined that it should be a success. It’s the only production that has ever given us this sort of trouble and, well, I told him to just forget about it. I swear it’s cursed. This way.” They started winding their way down some stone steps. “What about my play?” Asked Adelaide quietly. “Hmm… Oh, well, if you give it to me, I’ll try and take the time to read it. Don’t be so reluctant. I promise to give it back to you in one piece. Who knows? If it impresses me, I’ll give it to Mr Tawn. John, that is.” They emerged into a large room with high stone walls, lit up by a few windows high on the walls which projected sunlight down onto what appeared to be a costume come technical department. For a second, Adelaide didn’t see the chaos but rather just how magical everything seemed to be. She had been backstage in theatres before but they seemed so small and sparse in comparison. Here, Adelaide felt like she had gone through a portal into a magical world where sea monsters twirled around the bottom of ivory towers and where a young man dressed all in black, as a Prince, was interceding in an argument between an older man, who was evidently a ghost in a suit of armour, and a woman dressed as a squirrel. In one corner, a craftsman was adding the finishing touches to the front half of a schooner, crowned with a pirate flag. “Get out of the way human!” yelled a tiny voice. “Petch!” cursed another. Adelaide looked down at her feet to see two Pycons, one shaped like a tiny donkey balancing on its hind legs, the other like a miniature woman, carrying a longsword between them. “Oh. Sorry.” she said, stepping to the side with a bemused expression then raising her eyebrows at Beatrice’s laughter, “What?” “Diggleby and Hornwell. They’re brothers.” “Brothers? But one of them was a…” “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. I made that expression when I first met them too. Pycons are funny creatures, aren’t they? But we’re very lucky to have a couple employed by the Theatre - they’re very useful to the technical crew, or when you want to make something look like it’s moving on its own.” she paused, and walked between two artificial pillars, “Now, this section is the costume department. If you go and talk to Elsa,” she indicated a tall, imposing woman with raven hair pulled into a tight bun, wearing huge hoop earrings, “She’ll be very happy to make your acquaintance.” “Aren’t you going to introduce…?” started Adelaide, but already Beatrice had turned on her heel and disappeared. |