The Playing Fields

Chapter 42

The first act ended, and as the house lights came up everyone found a peephole to record audience reaction.

"That was decent applause, don't you think?" Donald asked no one in particular.

"Well I don't see anyone tearing up programs and scowling." Grace offered in reply.

"What about those theatre critics, anybody see where they're sitting?"

Nigel patiently herded them all away from the curtains, sending them down to prepare for the second act. "I'll check with Victoria and let you know if she hears anything. Now c'mon, let's get ready - and good job people... so far, so good."

*****

Milo gaped red-faced in the mirror, as Antonio mopped the stains from the back of his neck. "I'll kill that little- that- that, saboteur!"

"If you hadn't been so vain, Braithwaite, this would never have occurred." Antonio stood back as Milo stripped of his ruined shirt and flung it across the room.

"I don't equate endeavoring to be true to my perception of the character as vanity Mr. Begarra."

"My objection was not with your perceived character." Indignantly, he opened the dressing room door and stood aside. "There are others awaiting my services, Braithwaite."

"Now just a damned min—"

"According to my sheet, you don't appear until the third scene in act two, so if you will be so kind..." He swept a hand toward the door and stood confidently at attention - the professional funeral director - directing.

*****

The women all gathered about Shelia, complimenting her recovery of the scene, and giggling over Milo's humiliation. Ellen and Denise busily placed costumes on hangers, retrieving the next change of garments for the upcoming scenes. Darlene and Serge hopped about the milling crowd, primping, brushing and spraying fixative onto the hair repairs.

"If you get that crap on these eyelashes." Tiffany shielded her face with her hand. "I won't be able to blink for a month."

Serge has unerring aim, darling, don't let's get ourselves in a tizzy now."

"Do you have time to fix that button Denise so politely referred to?" Grace asked Ellen, watching the two women help Shelia into a new dress.

"I can do that for you." Denise smiled, touching Ellen's arm lightly, as she went to the table for her sewing things. "Just slip the top down."

"You'll have to get the buttons." Grace joined her at the table, giving her a slow look and turning her back. The noise in the room drowned out Denise's reply.

"Tits in ladies," Tiffany called. "Here come the boys."

THE COMINGS AND GOINGS

Melaine heard the door chimes and stopped breathing, staring at herself in the bathroom mirror. Cal had offered to accompany her to the opening night and she had enthusiastically agreed; the prospect of spending the evening in his company - legitimately - filling her with an almost juvenile exuberance. She started down the hall, stopping in a panic, as she realized she was still in just her slip, and retreated, calling loudly for him to come in.

"Sorry," she called again. "I'm still getting dressed."

"My fault, I'm a little early." He said closing the door and wandering into the living room.

"Make yourself at home. Have a drink if you like." Shaking her hands at her reflection, she critically scrutinized each aspect of her makeup and hair.

"Sounds good, can I get you one?"

"Uhm- ah- aaah, okay," she called, another bolt of excitement. She fiddled with the wave over her eye, poking and pulling it for just the right look, then scampered into the bedroom and removing the hanger from her gown.

"Can I bring it to you? Where are you?" Cal's voice echoed from the end of the hall.

"Sure, I'm in the bed—" Melaine let out a gasp, forgetting where she was and who was with her.

"Here we go-oh!" Cal stopped in the doorway, a pair of drinks held out in front, his eyes darting over her semi-clad form.

Quickly, she turned away, stepping into her gown and pulling the straps over her bare shoulders. "That's my fault." She apologized with an embarrassed look, "I thought I'd have time..."

"Take all the time you need." He said handing her the drink and taking a sip of his own.

She sipped then set the glass down, reaching around for her zipper.

"Can I get that for you." He put his glass next to hers and stepped around behind taking the pull in his fingers, feeling the warmth of her back against his knuckles and her sudden tensing, as she uttered a soft moan.

Suddenly his hands were on her shoulders, and the straps slipped down her arms allowing the gown to shimmer to the floor at her feet. Melaine gasped and leaned back against him, holding his hands as he slid his thumbs into the waistband of the slip and pushed it down. She turned slowly around pressing her bra and panties against the front of his suit and reaching her arms about his neck.

"It's only fifty minutes to curtain." His words breathed hoarsely into her hair.

"It's only two minutes to opening." She pulled his head down, kissing him hungrily and forcing him back onto the bed.

*****

"Hurry dear, we still have to pick up Carmela and then get up to Arthur's place for a pre-theatre drink." Gertrude squirted a dash of Siren's Call perfume onto her bosom and sculpted the lipstick at the corner of her mouth with a long, painted fingernail.

"In all the years we've lived here, he's never had us up before." Ivan grumbled, struggling with his tie. "Get this for me would you dear. I wonder at this sudden urge to have us visit his castle in the sky."

"Don't be so suspicious darling, Arthur's always been a very generous, sociable man." She deftly knotted and adjusted his tie, doing up his jacket and patting it with satisfaction.

"I don't think Carmela's very comfortable about going." He gave her a sly look as she turned away.

He registered surprise when, instead of getting an argument, Gertrude agreed that Carmela was very shy, socially, and perhaps would be more comfortable going straight to the theatre.

"Yes, well, but we'd have to drop her off awfully early." Ivan's mind raced.

"Tell you what." Gertrude said, exuding sincerity with the suggestion that he drop her off at Arthur's, and then come back for Carmela. "I'll make up some excuse... and we can all meet at the playhouse."

Ivan's rivets were popping. "That's awfully generous, old girl, you sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not, Ivy, after all, consideration for one's friends is what makes life on The Pathway the compassionate, upstanding community it is." She gave him a peck on the cheek and took his arm, hurrying him to the door.

*****