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Cricketers?’
    â€˜No, actually after she’d left. We met in the car park.’ Which was as much as she wanted to say about the circumstances of their encounter.
    â€˜Really? Was she all right?’ Which struck Jude as a slightly unusual question from someone who’d been in the same pub with the woman the evening before.
    â€˜Oh, fine,’ she said, finessing the truth. ‘Have you known her long, Ritchie?’
    â€˜Met her once before last night. I went to see the SADOS panto a few weeks back. They’re always pretty dreadful, but I feel I should go out of loyalty. The trouble is, it’s basically knockabout slapstick, but Neville Prideaux insists on writing these dreadfully pretentious lyrics for the songs, and the two elements just don’t fit together. You know, his lyrics are all about the cigarettes of hope being stubbed out in the ashtrays of dreams. God knows who he thinks he is – Jacques Brel? But that’s how they’ve always done the panto in recent years, and SADOS are not very good at change. Then again, Neville seems to have an unassailable position in the society. They all seem to think the sun shines out of his every available orifice.’
    â€˜What’s his background? Was he involved in professional theatre?’
    â€˜Good Lord, no. Schoolteacher all his life. At some public school, I can’t remember the name. Head of English and in charge of all the drama. Directed every school play, ran the Drama Department like his own private fiefdom, as far as I can gather. And now he’s retired, so he’s vouchsafing SADOS the benefit of his wisdom and experience.’
    The sarcasm in his last words reminded Jude of what she had felt in the Cricketers, that there was considerable rivalry between Ritchie Good and Neville Prideaux, both big beasts in the local amdram circles.
    â€˜Anyway,’ asked Ritchie, ‘do you know Hester well?’
    â€˜Met her for the first time yesterday evening.’
    â€˜In the Cricketers car park?’
    â€˜Well, I’d been introduced to her in the pub, but it was in the car park that I got the chance to talk to her.’
    â€˜What about?’ Ritchie’s urgency was making him drop his guard of nonchalance.
    â€˜Oh, this and that,’ Jude lied casually. ‘The production of
The Devil’s Disciple
… SADOS … how long she’d been involved … that kind of thing.’
    Ritchie Good nodded, and Jude thought she detect relief in his body language, as he moved on to talk about the play. ‘Be interesting to see how
Disciple
goes down in Smalting. Shaw’s gone out of fashion, but he does write good parts for actors. Bloody long speeches, mind you. I didn’t know the play when Davina asked me to play Dick Dudgeon, but the minute I read it I knew I had to do it. Rather let down the Worthing Rustics, whom I’d vaguely promised that I’d play Higgins in their
Pygmalion
, but I’ve done the part before, and Dick Dudgeon was much more interesting … you know, to me as an actor.’
    â€˜I’m sure,’ said Jude. ‘I don’t know the play, I’m afraid, but I assume that Dick Dudgeon is the lead part.’
    â€˜Yes. Well, Judith’s a decent part too.’
    â€˜The one Storm Lavelle’s playing?’
    â€˜Mm. I hadn’t met her before the read-through, but she’s not a bad little actress. Needs a bit of work on the American accent, but I dare say I can help her out there.’
    â€˜And Judith is … not Dick Dudgeon’s wife?’
    â€˜No, she’s married to the Pastor, Anderson. She starts off hating Dick Dudgeon, but by the end is rather smitten. Davina gave me the choice of playing Anderson or Dudgeon, but there was no contest. Anderson’s a goody-goody, whereas Dick’s … well, “The Devil’s Disciple”. No question Dick Dudgeon is the sexier role.’
    â€˜Which I