Applause (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 2) by Madalyn Morgan (best authors to read txt) 📕

‘Portable overheads,’ George said. ‘About time too.’

From both sides of the stage stagehands appeared holding large round battery operated lights. They walked so slowly and carefully they might have been carrying coffins. Margot felt the hairs on her arms stand up. At the front of the stage the lads lifted the lights onto their shoulders – leaving the artists in the dark again – and pointed them above the heads of the audience. The usherettes did the same with their torches.

‘Oh my God! I didn’t realise the curtain was up. How embarrassing,’ George said. ‘I hope they didn’t hear us.’

‘Hear you, you mean. It was you being daft, not me and Margot,’ Betsy said.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Anton Goldman shouted, but the audience didn’t hear him. Half a dozen ladies in the middle of the stalls got up and began to push their way past people who had remained seated. From the wings Bert handed Anton a loudhailer. ‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ he boomed. A hush spread through the auditorium and at last he had their attention. ‘There has been a power cut. It is not internal, therefore we are unable to do anything about it.’ There was a rumble of muted comments. ‘Would you please remain seated and the usherettes will guide you, one row at a time, to the exits. Once you have left the auditorium members of the front of house staff will show you out of the theatre. The fire doors and the main entrance will be open, so please use the nearest exit. Goodnight. Have a safe journey home.’

As the audience began to leave the curtain came down and Anton turned to the artists. ‘As almost half the house has been sold for tomorrow night’s show, we’re hoping the electrical problem will be resolved and we can open as usual. The matinee has very few bookings, so Miss Lesley and I think it would be prudent not to open in the afternoon, but to be here at six o’clock prepared to do the evening show. If everyone is happy with that, I’ll say goodnight and see you all tomorrow.’

The artists made their way from the stage into the wings, and then to their respective dressing rooms with the help of Mrs Horton and the wardrobe assistants, who shone torches on the floor and stairs for the artists to follow. Back in the dressing rooms, candles were lit again and the wardrobe department went down to help the usherettes and front of house staff to clear the theatre.

George passed Margot a coat hanger and she hung up her costume. The cliché that theatre people were like family was true, she thought, remembering how they helped one another and how the girls had looked after her when Dave the Nazi was around. She swallowed and forced back a tear. There was a knock on the door and as she was nearest she opened it.

‘Come in, Bert.’

‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’ George said. ‘Thought you’d be front of house.’

‘Not until I’ve seen you ladies off the premises safely,’ he beamed. ‘Make sure you’ve got all your belongings and your candles are out – we don’t want the place going up in smoke.’

‘How are we going to see to get downstairs without candles, darling?’ George asked.

‘Like magic, Miss George,’ he said, producing a torch. After switching it on he pushed it between the belt of his trousers and the arch of his back. ‘This way, if you please?’

Holding onto each other, the human convoy descended the stairs one tentative step at a time until Bert’s small candle-lit office came into view. ‘Just a couple of steps and we’re down. There! Hang on a minute,’ he said, taking the torch from his belt. ‘Hold on for just a second longer.’ Turning, he pointed the torch at the stairs and backed down the last few steps. ‘Right! Follow me,’ he said, crossing to the stage door.

The girls trailed out one after the other, discussing whether the club would have electricity. ‘We could call round and have a look,’ George said.

Betsy turned her nose up, but changed her mind. ‘All right, but I’m only staying for one drink. Are you listening to me, George?’

‘Darling, I cling on your every word. Ta-ta everyone. See you tomorrow.’ Linking her arm through Betsy’s, George dragged her playfully along the Lane.

‘Hang on for me, you two,’ Nancy shouted. ‘I’m seeing Salvatore later anyway, so there’s no point in going all the way home. Are you coming, Margot?’

‘No thanks, I’ll hang on for Bill. I don’t expect they’ll have electricity at the ambulance station with it being so close. He’ll probably be here soon.’

‘If you’re sure?’ Nancy said, and blew Margot and Bert a kiss before running off to join Betsy and George.

‘Is there anything I can do to help here, Bert?’

‘No, Miss. Now the backstage is clear, I’m going to lock up and go through to the front of house, see if I can help Miss Lesley.’

‘Goodnight, then. See you tomorrow.’

‘I don’t like leaving you out here on your own, Miss.’

‘I’ll be all right. If Bill isn’t here in the next ten minutes, I’ll come and find you. Or I’ll go and find him,’ Margot said cheerfully.

‘Make sure you do. Goodnight.’ Returning to the theatre he closed the stage door.

‘Damn!’ It had started to drizzle and Margot had left her umbrella in the dressing room. She turned, but before she had time to knock she heard the bolt clunk into place.

She sheltered in the doorway for ten minutes, and then another ten, before walking round to the front of the theatre. The double doors were already locked and sandbags had been stacked in front of them. Arthur Armitage, the night