A dilapidated upright piano stood boldly in the middle of the room, its keys being fiercely pounded by a portly man with a shock of white hair. Lily started to recognise the melody; it was ‘On the Street Where You Live’ fromMy Fair Lady.
‘Nick, you’re here, thank goodness. Where is Jessica?’
She turned to find a big table piled with scripts, pens, and what appeared to be sign-up sheets. Rising above the noise, a harried-looking woman with frizzy red hair was trying to sort the anarchy by calling names and distributing paperwork.
‘In London, last I heard,’ said Nick to the woman. ‘Sheila, this is Lily Baxter. She’s said you two know each other?’
Lily smiled at Sheila who nodded. ‘Nice to see you again, Sheila,’ she said.
Sheila peered at Lily. ‘Oh yes, Violet Baxter’s granddaughter. How is she?’
Lily smiled. ‘She’s fine, still at the cottage. She sends her best,’ she lied.
Sheila gave a pursed half-smile. ‘I’m sure she did,’ she said and turned to Nick.
‘Let me know when Jessica arrives. She’s my Eliza.’
‘Isn’t she in London?’ he asked, confusion clouding his handsome face.
‘She’s back, didn’t she call you?’ said Sheila looking smug for knowing something Nick didn’t, and she walked away like a cat swinging her tail.
Lily leaned to Nick. ‘Well if it’s already cast then I don’t need to worry,’ she whispered with a smile.
‘I didn’t know she was back,’ Nick said and Lily heard an edge in his voice.
‘Did things end badly between you?’ she asked, knowing she was being nosy but wanting to know everything about her competition.
‘Let’s just say we won’t be catching up for coffee anytime soon,’ he said and he handed her the sign-up form and went to speak to Sheila.
Lily wandered about the room looking at the fading posters of earlier productions –The Importance of Being Earnest,Guys and Dolls,A Midsummer Night’s Dream– each one homely and unpretentious and reminding Lily of why she loved the theatre so much.
But the anxiety of having to sing still loomed.
She glanced around the room looking for Jessica, her supposed competition. Even though Lily knew she most likely wouldn’t commit to being in the show, she wondered what the girl’s voice would be like. There was always someone better in London, and sometimes she would stay back after an audition to listen to the others sing their songs and wonder why she even bothered. Everyone was so talented on the West End.
‘Hello, to the most glamourous ingénue. Miss Lily Baxter, how are you?’ She turned to see Jasper, looking much older but still very fabulous in his black fedora and an electric blue overcoat draped over his shoulders, stood in front of her, as Nick came to her side.
‘Hello, Jasper.’ She beamed at him. He had always been so kind to her when she was a child. ‘I can’t believe you remember me,’ she said.
‘I’ve been watching your career from afar,’ he said with a smile. Jasper smelled of mints and orange peel and maybe the faint smell of tobacco. He wore a rose gold pinkie ring and under his arm was a tiny Pomeranian dog.
‘It’s not much of one,’ she said with a shrug.
‘It more than most, darling. Now are you coming to sing for Eliza?’
‘I thought I might just have a little sing.’
‘This is Bernadette,’ he said to Lily, pushing the dog slightly forward for her to see as Nick came to her side.
The dog looked at her as Lily put her hand out for the dog to sniff.
‘No,’ said Nick and Jasper in unison, but Bernadette licked Lily’s hand with her tiny tongue.
‘Well that’s a sign,’ said Jasper. ‘Last year she bit Sheila’s webbing between her thumb and pointer finger, and now she has a floppy thumb.’
Lily looked at Nick who nodded. ‘It’s true, I applied pressure and they stitched it, but it’s not been the same since according to Sheila.’
Jasper smiled at her. ‘I do hope you will bring Violet to the show. She would have been a wonderful Mrs Higgins.’
