CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The next day it was a much smaller group of players that met in the great hall for rehearsal. I led my family in and the room fell quiet. (I had to admit that my noisy, colourful circus troupe did seem to stick out a bit in the grand old hall – not that it seemed to bother them much.) Letty barrelled over, her trusty walkie-talkie clipped to her side. “Hello, everyone,” she greeted my family. “I’m Letty; I don’t know if you remember me?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “But I’ll be in charge of scenery, lighting, all your stage management requirements. I can assure you, my team are ready.” She pointed towards a group of students dressed all in black, just like Letty, standing in a neat line and staring straight ahead like soldiers. “It took me a while,” said Letty seriously, “but now I have them working like a well-oiled machine.”

“Thank you very much, Letty,” said Pym, “that is very reassuring.”

Letty gave her team a small nod and, as one, they all saluted, turned around and marched off, their walkie-talkies gleaming at their sides.

“OK.” Pym clapped her hands and everyone gathered around. “It’s nice to see you all here. I know that there have been some complications, but I am confident that we can get things smoothed out by Sunday.”

She was interrupted by the arrival of Maxwell Dangerfield who grabbed Pym’s shoulders and kissed her loudly on both cheeks. “Madame Director!” he cried. “A thousand apologies for my lateness. It is so good of you to step in. I am so thrilled that you will be the one to guide us safely from these troubled seas into calmer shores—”

Pym fixed Maxwell with her knowing stare and he faltered slightly. “Ah – ” he spoke more quietly now, “I think you will find us in reasonable shape, although we are short a couple of witches.”

“Well, as to that,” Pym spoke with authority, “Sharp-Eye Sheila and Doris here have agreed to step in. They already know all the lines.” I noticed Fanella standing with her arms folded and a furious look on her face, and I moved slightly further away from her. “And everyone else – ” Pym gestured “is here to help however they can. So let’s get started with a run-through, shall we?”

The rehearsal began and I had to say that Maxwell Dangerfield was good – perhaps it was a shame he was no longer acting. Lucas was really going for it in the role of Banquo – they were almost trying to out-act each other. I was so engrossed in the performances that it took me a while to realize I was standing next to a lady I hadn’t met before. She had tanned skin and her dark hair was peppered with grey.

“Wonderful, isn’t he?” she whispered to me, her eyes on Maxwell Dangerfield. I murmured in agreement. “I used to adore him in All Tomorrow’s Yesterdays,” she continued. “I watched it every afternoon. It’s fabulous to see him acting again – he hasn’t really been in anything after they killed him off that show. I loved it when he played his own evil twin sister. Of course,” she giggled, leaning towards me, “I knew him before he was famous. Used to go to school with him, right here!”

“I didn’t know Maxwell went to Saint Smithen’s!” I exclaimed.

“Oh, yes. But then, he wasn’t called Maxwell Dangerfield then – he changed that when he became an actor. His real name is Arthur Scroggins.”

“Arthur Scroggins?” I spluttered. “No wonder he changed it! I’m Poppy Pym, by the way,” I whispered.

“Lucia Quest.” She smiled. “I’m Lucas’s mum.”

“Oh!” I was surprised. She seemed much nicer than Lucas Quest. “You must be very proud of him,” I murmured.

“Oh yes!” she said proudly. “It’s wonderful that he’s done so well. Although it’s a lot of work – and not just for him.” She shrugged. “Lots of early starts and travelling for me too. And helping him with his lines and looking after all his costumes and things, it’s a full-time job. Why, the other day he came in covered in fake blood from some big scene he was in and it was a nightmare to get all of that red paint out of his clothes and off of his hands.” She shook her head. “He doesn’t like me coming to watch really, but I snuck in today. It’s so nice to meet some of his friends.” She smiled at me again but I could feel the wheels inside my head cranking around and a buzzing filled my ears.

“Covered in blood?” I asked slowly. “What day was that?”

Lucia frowned. “Um, let me see . . . it would have been . . . Monday, I think. Why?”

At that moment though I was distracted by an astonishing sight – that of Pym hurling herself like a human cannonball on to the stage and pushing Maxwell to the ground.

“Ooof!” he groaned. “Why did you do—” but his protests were cut short by an ominous creaking noise. With an almighty groan one of the chandeliers the art department had made for the set broke from the rope that was holding it and crashed on to the stage, smashing right on the spot where Maxwell had been standing.

We all stared at the shattered pieces for a moment in stunned silence. Maxwell Dangerfield’s face had gone the colour of a glass of skimmed milk, and the whole room stood frozen as if someone had put us on pause.

Then the pretty, dark-haired woman playing Lady Macbeth burst into noisy tears and fled down the steps from the stage and straight out of the door, screeching something about us all being doomed – and everyone seemed to come back to life. People crowded around Maxwell, helping him to his feet and asking if he was OK. Lucas’s mum ran up on to the stage and towards her son. He was standing stock still and gazing at the shards of chandelier, his face pale and his mouth in a tight line.

I hurried up on to the stage as well. “Letty,” I asked her quietly. “Can someone lower the rope? The rope that held the chandelier?”

With a trembling hand, Letty reached for her walkie-talkie and muttered into it. The rope began to drop to where I stood beneath it.

“As I suspected,” I whispered to myself, holding the rope in my hand and looking closely at the neat ends. “This rope has been cut.”

My eyes travelled over the group of people huddled around Maxwell and Pym, all talking loudly over the top of one another. The hamster wheel of my brain was spinning so furiously I felt a bit dizzy. The rope that I was holding in my hand only confirmed my suspicions. This was a deliberate act of sabotage. And I knew who was behind it.