The lights in the theatre slowly dimmed. Standing in the wings Lydia could feel the rise in expectation and anticipation amongst the audience, as tangible as a coming storm. It made her skin prickle. Someone coughed; there were the sounds of people settling down, their conversation changing from a noisy cheerful babble to an all-together lower, denser hum.
She closed her eyes, concentrating on controlling her breathing and the panic that bubbled up under it. Even after all these years it was still there, that peculiar fluttering fear that started in her stomach and rose up into her throat, closing it down, stealing her breath away and making her heart race. Once on stage she would be just fine, but for now the panic crowded in, making her tremble, making the sound of her pulse ricochet around inside her skull. Deep breaths, calm thoughts; any second now the curtains would open and she would be just fine.
In the auditorium beyond the curtains the audience were still and quiet now. The hair on the back of her neck rose.
‘Miss Redford?’ someone whispered. Lydia opened her eyes and looked up. One of the crew pointed to her radio mike and, leaning closer, flicked it on before tucking the wire down in amongst the great explosion of embroidery on her evening dress. One of the spotlights reflected in the facets of the jewellery she was wearing, projecting a great arc of rainbows into the wings.
She smiled her thanks and then she pressed her lips together and ran a hand back over her hair, heart still racing, anxiety edging out all sensible thoughts.
The technician grinned. ‘You look fabulous,’ he mouthed and gave her the thumbs up. Her smile held. On the far side of the stage her agent, Arthur, raised a hand in salute, his fingers crossed, and he winked. A moment later and the signature tune for Cannon Square began to play and as the curtains slowly opened, the deep inviting voice of the theatre’s resident compere rolled out over the PA.
‘Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to this evening’s show. Tonight, for one night only, we would like you to put your hands together and give a great big Carlton Rooms welcome to star of stage, screen and television, our very own home-spun diva, Miss Lydia Redford.’ His voice rose to a crescendo in the gloom.
It was as if someone had thrown a switch. From the auditorium came a sound like heavy rain and then thunder as people clapped, cheered and stamped their feet, the sound filling the theatre, a sound so loud that Lydia could feel it as well as hear it.
The assistant stage manager waved her on and as Lydia stepped out into the glare of the spotlight the volume of the applause rose.
‘Good evening,’ she said, pulling up the stool that was there waiting for her centre stage. ‘It’s been a long time coming but it’s great to be back here at the Carlton Rooms, I’ve been away too long—’ and as she spoke the audience roared its appreciation and Lydia’s nerves evaporated like snow in sunshine.