Read Online Death at the Theatre: Miss Hart and Miss Hunter Investigate: Book 2 by Celina Grace - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Celina Grace
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and walked about along the back row of seats, looking harder, but there was nothing. Just a plain, unbroken wall. There was no possible way that the killer could have climbed down into the Gods by the balcony without having been seen by Tophat and his group of friends, so the murderer must have come up via the staircase. But then, why had nobody seen him – or her?
“Come on, Joan, it’s starting,” Verity whispered, and I sat back down in my seat and turned my attention towards the play.
I enjoyed the second act even more than I had the first. Caroline’s character, of course, ending up renouncing the bad boy (Tommy) for the good man (Aldous) but the way the playwright went about it meant that Verity and I were on the edge of our seats to see which way the leading lady would take. When the final applause finally died down, Verity and I looked at one another with rather dazed delight.
“She’s awfully good, isn’t she? Caroline Carpenter, I mean.” I began to gather up my things in preparation for our departure.
“Yes she is. Come on, let’s give it five minutes and then we’ll go down and meet everyone.”
We retired to the Ladies’ Room to powder our noses, renew our lipstick and repair our hairstyles. Fighting to get mine back into its rapidly drooping pin curls, I made a vow that I would cut my hair, cut it really short. Just think how much cooler it would be in the kitchen, I thought to myself, thrusting in the last errant hairpin with a vengeance.
I hadn’t been backstage at this theatre before. The backstage door was at the back of the ground floor, around behind a partition. Verity knocked and the door was opened by a young woman who I didn’t know but Verity did, judging by the warm welcome she received.
“Verity! You’re here. Come through and I’ll hunt out Tommy for you.”
Verity introduced me. “This is my friend, Miss Joan Hart. Joan, this is Gwen Deeds. She’s the wardrobe mistress here.”
I shook hands with Gwen. She had a round, cheerful face and was about my height, so fairly tall for a woman. She wasn’t pretty but she had nice, kind, brown eyes, as placid as a cow’s. She greeted me with warmth and bade us to come backstage again.
As always, I was slightly unprepared for the change in tempo. Out in the auditorium, there was the subdued buzz of excitement and anticipation. Here, backstage, it was bedlam. Stage hands clomped past with bits of the scenery, props girls rushed back and forth with chairs and candlesticks and potted plants, various musicians carried their instruments (Verity murmured that they would soon be out from under our feet and off to the pub) and of course, there were the actors. It was a small cast for this particular play but actors have a way of filling up the space, no matter how many of them there are.
We came out into the main room at the back and spotted Tommy, his dyed hair gleaming under the lights. He was talking to Aldous, who was looking rather flushed, something that made him even more attractive. Both of them had cloths in their hands and were occupied in cleaning the greasepaint from their faces, even as they were talking nineteen to the dozen.
We struggled across the crowded floor (I had to avert my eyes a couple of times from several men who were still dressing) and Tommy spotted us as we got closer. He swept Verity into a hug and planted a kiss on my cheek. I tried not to blush and also tried not to raise my hand to see if he’d smeared greasepaint all over my face.
“Well, my darlings, what did you think?”
Of course we said, quite honestly, that the play had been marvellous, and he had been marvellous and so, of course, had Aldous and Miss Carpenter. Aldous smiled when we mentioned his name. He seemed a little more relaxed than when we had last met, a little less strange and awkward. Looking at both Tommy and he, I could see they were both experiencing the euphoria I’d seen before in actors who’d just come off the stage.
“Come on, Joan, it’s starting,” Verity whispered, and I sat back down in my seat and turned my attention towards the play.
I enjoyed the second act even more than I had the first. Caroline’s character, of course, ending up renouncing the bad boy (Tommy) for the good man (Aldous) but the way the playwright went about it meant that Verity and I were on the edge of our seats to see which way the leading lady would take. When the final applause finally died down, Verity and I looked at one another with rather dazed delight.
“She’s awfully good, isn’t she? Caroline Carpenter, I mean.” I began to gather up my things in preparation for our departure.
“Yes she is. Come on, let’s give it five minutes and then we’ll go down and meet everyone.”
We retired to the Ladies’ Room to powder our noses, renew our lipstick and repair our hairstyles. Fighting to get mine back into its rapidly drooping pin curls, I made a vow that I would cut my hair, cut it really short. Just think how much cooler it would be in the kitchen, I thought to myself, thrusting in the last errant hairpin with a vengeance.
I hadn’t been backstage at this theatre before. The backstage door was at the back of the ground floor, around behind a partition. Verity knocked and the door was opened by a young woman who I didn’t know but Verity did, judging by the warm welcome she received.
“Verity! You’re here. Come through and I’ll hunt out Tommy for you.”
Verity introduced me. “This is my friend, Miss Joan Hart. Joan, this is Gwen Deeds. She’s the wardrobe mistress here.”
I shook hands with Gwen. She had a round, cheerful face and was about my height, so fairly tall for a woman. She wasn’t pretty but she had nice, kind, brown eyes, as placid as a cow’s. She greeted me with warmth and bade us to come backstage again.
As always, I was slightly unprepared for the change in tempo. Out in the auditorium, there was the subdued buzz of excitement and anticipation. Here, backstage, it was bedlam. Stage hands clomped past with bits of the scenery, props girls rushed back and forth with chairs and candlesticks and potted plants, various musicians carried their instruments (Verity murmured that they would soon be out from under our feet and off to the pub) and of course, there were the actors. It was a small cast for this particular play but actors have a way of filling up the space, no matter how many of them there are.
We came out into the main room at the back and spotted Tommy, his dyed hair gleaming under the lights. He was talking to Aldous, who was looking rather flushed, something that made him even more attractive. Both of them had cloths in their hands and were occupied in cleaning the greasepaint from their faces, even as they were talking nineteen to the dozen.
We struggled across the crowded floor (I had to avert my eyes a couple of times from several men who were still dressing) and Tommy spotted us as we got closer. He swept Verity into a hug and planted a kiss on my cheek. I tried not to blush and also tried not to raise my hand to see if he’d smeared greasepaint all over my face.
“Well, my darlings, what did you think?”
Of course we said, quite honestly, that the play had been marvellous, and he had been marvellous and so, of course, had Aldous and Miss Carpenter. Aldous smiled when we mentioned his name. He seemed a little more relaxed than when we had last met, a little less strange and awkward. Looking at both Tommy and he, I could see they were both experiencing the euphoria I’d seen before in actors who’d just come off the stage.
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