Page 19 of A Village Theatre Murder
‘We’re both very upset.’ Julia paused. She really didn’t want to worry Jess, but she needed to talk to someone, and Sean was so caught up with Jono.
‘Hayley says that I’m on the list of suspects.’ To Julia’s horror, she felt her eyes fill with tears as she said this. ‘I mean, I know that I’m obviously not a real suspect, darling. But it gave me such a turn to hear her say that.’
Jess leaned closer to her phone. ‘Oh, Mummy, how upsetting.But you know how Hayley is. Direct to a fault. She wouldn’t have thought about how it would sound to you. I bet she just means that she needs to cross you off the list, and file some paperwork about your innocence. You know how huffy she gets about paperwork.’
Julia laughed, loving that Jess knew these things about Hayley after her stay in Berrywick. ‘You’re right, Jess. I’m being a silly old thing, aren’t I?’
‘Neither old nor silly, Mum,’ reassured Jess. ‘But there is one way that you can get yourself right off that list, you know?’
‘And what would that be?’
‘Find the murderer. After all, you’re quite good at that.’
Julia gave a laugh, but at the same time, she realised that Jess was right. She needed to have her eyes and ears open, ready to take any clue to Hayley. This wasn’t one of those situations where she could sit back and hope for the police to do their best. This was a situation that she needed to get involved with – and clear her name.
It was as if Jess had read her mind. ‘Find the murderer, Mummy, but don’t annoy Hayley. That won’t help you at all.’
Julia laughed. ‘Got it,’ she said. ‘Get involved but don’t annoy Hayley. No problem at all.’
They both laughed.
‘Now let me say hello to that chocolate treasure!’ said Jess, leaving her mother to think about her next move.
Feeling much better after her chat with Jess, Julia had felt ready to face the day. She’d had a few errands to do on the way to the cast and crew meeting – a letter to post, a pop-in at the grocer’s for a few things for lunch – all of which had taken her slightly less time than she’d anticipated, which meant she arrived at the hall ten minutes early. Hector, who often saved the day with his well-timed prompt reading in rehearsals, was indeed prompt.He was sitting on the low wall along the pavement, smoking a cigarette and drumming his heels against the stone. He looked like an actor playing the part of an actor who had been called upon to sit on the low wall along the pavement, smoke a cigarette and drum his heels against the stone. Everything Hector did had a whiff of self-consciousness about it, as if he hoped a casting director might happen by and notice him. His son was sitting on the wall some distance up the road. Hector’s adult son, Troilus, was a familiar face to those involved in the show, as he popped in and out of rehearsals, bringing Hector snacks and muttering words of encouragement. Now, his long legs were stretched in front of him and he seemed to be studying his feet, a small frown on his face. Perhaps the poor chap was embarrassed by his father’s posing, thought Julia, trying to imagine how Jess would feel if Julia behaved as Hector did.
Julia hated the smell of cigarette smoke, but she had resolved to herself that she was going to find out as much as she could about Graham Powell’s relationships. Hector was a known gossip, so he was as good a place as any to start. She approached Hector, making sure to stay upwind of him.
‘Hello, Hector. How are you?’ she asked.
Hector tilted his head a little, like a man in thought, and paused a moment – perhaps for the passing casting director to fully appreciate his fine jawline – before answering, ‘I’d say I was bemused, Julia.Surprised.’
Hector had a disconcerting habit of overemphasising certain words in an explicitly dramatic manner. It wore a little thin after a while, and Julia suspected this was why Roger hadn’t given him a speaking role, despite his much-vaunted television acting experience.
‘Which is not to sayunhappily, surprised,’ he continued. ‘I believe it is the correct outcome. But I amsurprised.’
Hector could be very obtuse in addition to being annoyingly pompous. But Julia played along. ‘Ah, and why would that be?’
‘Director Grave’s missive was unexpected. I feared the production might be in jeopardy, and yet here we are!’
He flung his arms back to indicate the full scope of the gate and wall, as if it were a West End theatre with a glowing marquee above its fine oak doors, his name in foot-high capital letters.
‘You think we are going to continue with the run, then?’ she asked.
‘The show must go on!’ he said, repeating the text message from that morning which, she’d noted, he had written. ‘It would be a pity not to. Aterriblewaste of all our efforts. I, personally, learntevery linein that play. I practised with my son for hours. Every line! I would hate for it all to be for naught. Like the time in my last year of school when I learnt the lines for all the male leads for Shakespeare’s tragedies. Every word. Just to be prepared for any eventuality. Sadly,inexplicably, they decided to doWaiting for Godotinstead.’
He took one last deep draw of his cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs while he crushed the cigarette out on the back of the wall. He exhaled with an audible sigh and a thick cloud. Julia held her breath while the smoke wafted by.
Learning half of Shakespeare on the off-chance of a part sounded like lunacy, as far as Julia was concerned, but she didn’t see any point in saying so.
‘Well, you make a fair point. A lot of work has been put intoA Night to Remember. But still, to continue feels a little…’ She thought for the right word. ‘A little callous, perhaps. To Graham’s memory.’ She hoped that this mention of Graham might distract Hector into a bit of Graham-related gossip. But this was not to be.
‘It’s thetheatre, Julia,’ he said, with the air of a wise elder schooling a naive whippersnapper in the ways of the world. ‘It’sa tough business. Not for babies or sentimentalists. You know, when I worked in television, on the highly rated seriesHot Press, the lead actress had a terrible abdominal pain. It was a crucial scene. Despite her agony, she soldiered on. Brave,bravewoman.’ He paused dramatically for effect and placed his hand on his heart. ‘For the good of us all.’
‘Well, yes, I imagine that was very welcomed, but a stomach ache is hardly the same as…’
‘She had a burst appendix!’ he said, triumphantly. ‘Not any old tummy ache. A burstappendix. She was rushed to hospital as soon as the director yelled “cut”. She could havedied.’
Julia suddenly felt very cross with the silly woman, and with the whole system that necessitated such dramatic foolishness. ‘It seems to me that would have been a very silly way to go. To die unnecessarily because of a day’s filming. And I still say it’s hardly the same as suffering a fatal gunshot wound, on stage.’
