He sat on the catwalk high up in the theatre, above the highest tier of seating, the ‘Gods’, above the maze of scaffolding and gantries that held the multitude of lights that were his job to attend to. Of course he shouldn’t be working up here by himself with regulations as they were but his co-worker, Al, was a lazy character and was forever ‘just popping out for five minutes’ which normally turned into at least an hour and sometimes lasted until the performance began. He didn’t mind, he liked the solitude and generally had the initial checks all done in half the time. His legs dangled over the edge, a hundred and twenty foot drop below to the seats of the auditorium and his safety harness lay uselessly unsecured on the metal walkway beside him.
Looking down through the criss-cross patterns of the lighting rigs and past the huge noise dampeners to the stage below he could see the dancers going through their paces circling around the ‘Star’ like some echo of the solar system albeit written in a microscopic scale. She had seemed quite genuine when she had first come on the scene five years ago but now she played the Prima Donna just like all the other performers who graced the boards below. He pulled the battered pack of cigarettes from one of the many pockets in his cargo shorts and shivered a little as he felt a trickle of sweat run down his spine. He glanced at the huge Air Conditioning units that hung from the black painted ceiling on thin rods idling at minimum. A pair of ear phones circled his neck waiting for the main performance when the volume of sound even above the noise dampeners would be deafening, literally. Pulling out a disposable lighter he lit up his cigarette safe in the knowledge that the smoke detector above him was covered.
He continued to watch the intricate patterns the dancers and stars wove around the multi-levelled stage against the back drop of a large graffiti scrawled curtain. He always wondered how each and every one of them could keep track of their positions and speed with relevance to all the other bodies on stage. He supposed the music and a lot of practice helped.
A tiny echo of a shout or scream managed to reach his ears past the dampeners and he looked down once again. One of the dancers lay sprawled at the feet of the ‘Diva’ who was busily shouting at the prostrated figure. A few seconds later and the Star stormed from the stage. He wondered how many times in the few years since he had worked at the venue had he watched almost identical scenes of posturing. He tried to remember her first breakthrough song but it eluded his thoughts. It had been soft and haunting but now she had been swallowed by the PR machine it all seemed hard and sexual. Like so many before her she had believed those within the record industry and who was he to say they weren’t right, sex sold vinyl or silicon discs now. He grinned to himself as he realised he didn’t honestly know what CD’s were made off.
He finished his cigarette and pulled an empty carton from another pocket and placed the stubbed out end inside it. The rest of the dance troupe were milling about the stage, a couple of suits were issuing instructions and he imagined those ‘second-rate’ performers (at least in the eyes of the record companies shareholders) muttering beneath their breath. The tell-tale ‘clink’ of a lamp dying sounded from his left and he looked across at the continually strobing lights searching for the one that remained dark. It was almost a minute before he located it and made his way to the store against the wall and selected a replacement.
****
Out on the scaffolding bars that held the spot lights he hooked his leg through the ladder-rack of the lighting rig; his safety harness still useless hooked onto his shoulder so it was out of the way and unplugged the offending arc light before twisting it upwards and removing the barn shutters and glass cover to get at the ‘blown’ lamp. It was still fairly warm as he pulled it from the socket and dropped it into the net hanging from his left hip. Putting a clean glove on his right hand he slipped the fresh lamp from the identical net on his right hip slipping it easily into place. Another two minutes and the spot was operational once again as he twisted around carefully on the rig to begin moving back towards the relative safety of the walkway.
A shadow moved and he looks across the twenty feet of empty air. It was too small to be Al and he figured his partner was probably snoozing somewhere else within the building. Maybe he should attach his harness to the overhead sliding hook before moving forward in case it is some H & S official. He looks up to see the hook still over beside the walkway out of his reach and at the same time realises he would be told-off or even cited for being up here on his own anyway. “Ho-hum!” he mutters and begins to move hand over foot back towards the figure.
He’s almost ten feet away when he realises it’s a female dressed in the skimpy outfit of one of the performers. As he climbs back on to the gantry he hears a gasp of surprise from her followed by “Who the fuck?”
“Actually, more like ‘who the fuck’ are you? You’re so not meant to be up here!” he looks across at the slim form as a nearby strobe flicks on and off in quick succession and realises it isn’t a performer. It’s ‘The’ performer. “Oh... sorry but you really shouldn’t be up here, Miss!”
She stares at him, fury barely concealed behind her features as he struggles not to look up and down her minimally clad figure. He knows that whole panels of the outfit are simply skin coloured material but in the dim light it looks like she is only wearing four skimpy strips of purple satin. One of her hands is clasped firmly to the hand rail while the other holds the heeled pumps she had been wearing on stage. The grid work of the floor had obviously been troublesome. A silent curse fills his head as he realises Al must have left the door unsecured when he left. “Who the fuck do you think you are, telling me where I can and cannot go?” she seethed.
He had to almost bite his tongue before he answered, “I’m sorry Miss, it’s just that it isn’t safe up here...”
She looks about her slightly nervously and equally frustrated that what she was being told was at least partially true. “Well I wouldn’t be here if I could get out again!”
He nodded trying for a sympathetic smile and also still fighting the urge to cast his gaze down her slim form. “Right you are... the door can be troublesome.” He lied. He made to move past her and she gave the smallest of flinches before she stepped back against one of the rails. Carefully he walked by her making sure not to inadvertently brush against her and made his way towards the exit. He had gone half a dozen steps when he sensed there wasn’t any vibration of footsteps echoing through the metal gantry behind him and turned. She remained standing where she had been and was looking down at the stage far below. He watched as she said something or maybe just mouthed the words. He walked back three paces, “Pardon Miss?”
“I said it’s so quiet up here...” her voice trailed off and for the first time he let his eyes wander down her frame. Her legs, although thin, looked strong with the muscle definition of a dancer and a small callous blemished the side of her left small toe. Her stomach was washboard flat with only the slight definition of the Abs’ beneath and her chest, rather larger than seemed appropriate for her build, rose slowly up and down as she breathed. Her fingers still gripped the rail behind her, the pumps now hanging from her fingers, but fairly relaxed. Her brunette hair was tied severely back in a work-like fashion and he noted that except for a small amount of eye shadow her face was devoid of make-up.
“It is” he said simply in reply. She looked at him, for the first time taking in his features before returning her gaze back to the people below. His eyes followed her to see the rest of her troupe idly sitting about the stage while a couple of suited men seemed to be talking animatedly into their phones. “I think they’ve spotted you’re missing.”
A smile crept onto her face, “I think you’re right.” she moved lithely forward to rest her forearms on the rail in front. As she did one of her pumps slipped from her finger and dropped towards the metal meshwork of the gantry. He stooped quickly and grabbed it before it bounced over the edge. The smile remained on her face, “Quick reflexes!”
“They need to be or else I imagine you might be the first to complain if I dropped a lamp down onto the stage or the audience!” he placed the pump safely on the floor of the gantry and leant on the rail beside the Star.
“I guess I might...” she looked questioningly.
“Lou... pleased to meet you... Mysteria!”
“Pleased to meet you, Lou... Mysteria...or Hysteria” she raised her eyebrow acknowledging the slightly cruel nickname given to her behind her back, “are just my stage names... The names Mandy!” she held out her hand and shook Lou’s firmly.
“Pleased to meet you Mandy” he replied and went back to studying the rising panic of her entourage below.
“They do seem to be getting into a ‘tizzy’, don’t they?” he could hear the smile in her voice easily, “I guess if they didn’t insist on these pornographic outfits I might have room for a cell phone!”
“You mean to say there aren’t any pockets in that outfit?”
“Like you hadn’t noticed?” he resisted the urge to see if she was still smiling.
“I might have... glanced at some point... it’s not really suitable attire for up here, though during the concert the less clothing the better... it gets incredibly hot and sweaty up here!”
“You and me both... gets pretty hot and sweaty down there...” she sat down carefully on the catwalk dropping her legs over the side, lithely she bent one foot up onto her knee and began massaging her foot. “It used to be so much simpler... you sang a song, okay not in a place like this, as often as not a dump and all you had to do was avoid the manager’s grubby fingers when he gave you the cash...”
Lou sat down beside her leaning his forehead against the rail, “Surely with your popularity and not to say sales...” he left the question hanging.
“You’d think so wouldn’t you... just seems more people telling you what to do and calling it advice...”
He watched her work her thumbs hard into the callous on her foot, “I must admit I did quite like your first single, if I’m honest...” he stopped mid-sentence realising that the ‘meal-ticket’ probably wouldn’t care for his opinion.
“Go on” she said her eyes still smiling as she watched the frenetic activity increase below, “...you liked ‘Funk me!’ but?”
He looked at her, “I thought your first single was...” he racked his mind for the name, “...something about time...”
She paused mid-massage and looked up at Lou, “’Time to Breathe’?”
“Yes that was it, ‘Time to Breathe’. I really liked that one.
Her smile changed from the mischievous one she had looking downwards to something more genuine, “Someone’s been illegally downloading or watched some pirate on YouTube before the company pulled it!”
“Oops... guilty as charged” he offered.
“I’ll let you off with probation. It was never released as a single... the ‘man’ wouldn’t even let it be on the first album... ‘not the image we are looking for’ I think was the term.” The smile saddened, “damn but they got their hooks into me quickly...”
“Well, for my money I would have bought it” Lou offered.
“What about the rest?” she said turning her attention back to the stage.
Lou shook his head and answered “Not my taste... too... unsubtle...”
“Manufactured?” offered Mandy. She left soon afterwards and although there was no chance that he could hear the unamplified voices from the stage he would almost swear he heard a collective sigh of relief when she returned.
****
During that evening’s concert he kept her in the spotlight perfectly and watched as between numbers she looked up into the darkness. Rehearsal the next day went much smoother and when (he assumed) the same dancer missed her footing during the same complex dance routine Mandy didn’t lose her temper. In fact, she glanced upwards and then helped her up and went through the steps once again with her. He was sat on the edge of the walkway looking down as the suited ‘company’ men began to look nervous as their Star didn’t conform to their standards.
****
There had been a small click as the access door closed and a few moments later Mandy sat down beside him, slim legs draped over the side. “Do you think she has got it now?” asked Lou.
“I hope so... she’s odd... doesn’t lose it during the evening... never missed a beat throughout the tour, but when it comes to rehearsal...”
Lou sat silent for a minute contemplating a response and also aware that the ‘Star’ had returned and sat so close to him. “It might be that she feels there’s more attention on her... from you... might be a crush?”
The ‘Star’ rested her arms on the middle rail of the gantry railing and rested her chin on her forearms. “Don’t say that... I always felt bad about the ‘Hissy’ fit afterwards... now?”
“Time will tell. Can I say something?”
“Sounds ominous... I take it that it’s going to be something I could get you sacked for?”
Lou gulped loudly, “Probably!”
“Please do” whispered Mandy.
“You could try the carrot instead of the stick?” he glanced at her profile.
For a few moments she stayed silent and kept her focus on the stage below. “I’d swear that was how I used to be...” her voice trailed off and Lou was sure he could see her eyes watering.
They sat side by side in silence for twenty minutes, both of them resting their arms on the rail watching as the record company executives became more frantic and begin accusing the dance troupe of hiding the star. As far as Lou and Mandy could tell the troupe simply shrugged and then grinned behind the ‘toadies’.
****
The next day Lou couldn’t help but smile when one of the ’toadies’ struggled to carry two crates onto the stage as the rehearsal drew to a close. He could almost see steam coming out of his ears as Mandy ripped open the crates and began to pass out drinks to the ensemble making a point not to give any of the ‘company’ men a bottle. The young woman who had fallen on each of the previous rehearsals hadn’t slipped up once. He watched as Mandy glanced upwards and was about to move towards the door to leave it open for her when he saw her suddenly surrounded by the unwanted section of her entourage.
Mandy was ushered into the wings and after a half hour Lou gave up hoping she would appear.
It was almost fifty minutes when Al stepped through the access door to tell him he had to report to the office down in the basement. Shit thought Lou to himself as he slipped past his co-worker.
****
He stood in Mandy’s dressing room as she almost screamed at him. His back was to the closed door as she ranted and raved about how he was incapable of keeping just one spotlight on her during the show. He couldn’t believe the absolute ‘sea-change’ in the performer. Just as he was sure he was about to lose his job her voice dropped to a whisper, “What do ya think? Could I have been a movie star?”
“Wh...?” he stuttered before he realised that the berating had been for the benefit of those stood outside.
Mandy giggled, “Shit, Lou? Couldn’t you tell I was just pretending?”
Lou shook his head dumbfounded. “You can act!” he stated simply.
Her eyes lit up with the mischievous grin he had glimpsed before, “You’re going to be so easy to wind up!” He grinned back at her, the comment was the first that she had made that hinted about the future and although he had groaned with Al when the Star and her entourage had arrived at the venue he had now come to like the petite young woman. “Anyway, we haven’t got much time; can you slip out to the small coffee shop just around the corner in St. Martins Lane in about an hour?”
“Sure... can you?”
She stepped up close to him and gave him a conspiratorial wink, “I have a cunning plan!” for a moment she hesitated and then gave him a quick peck on the cheek which actually made him blush harder than when he thought she was telling him off. She reached beside him and pulled open the door and almost instantly reverted to her previous alter-ego, “Do your damned job right and you might keep it!” she bellowed and turned away as one of the company men, a particularly wimpy figure, ushered him out with a look of absolute disdain on his face. It took all of Lou’s self control not to knock him out there and then.
****
He sat in the coffee shop looking out onto St. Martins Lane watching the commuters rushing home and the tourists ambling by. Sipping on his black coffee he wondered if some scientist somewhere had ever done a flow analysis of such an urban scene. He worked a few figures through his head from the Mathematics Degree he had picked up at university and had never used. Once he would have been able to do the rough calculations in his head but the spiders had got in and those once much used synapses seemed to be clogged with cobwebs. He took a small serviette from the metal basket sat in the centre of the table and was rifling through his many pockets looking for a pen or pencil when a ‘Parka’ sat down across the table from him with their hood still up.
“I’m sorry but I’m waiting for someone...” he said politely as the person opposite pulled down the hood to reveal bright orange hair, “If you don’t mind?”
“Oh but I do... Lou” she giggled, “’Do-Lou’ sounds like the beginning of Be-Bop song...”
He grinned as he picked out her elfin features beneath the wig and he figured that the Star could definitely do with adding a few pounds, “Master of disguise now as well as acting? If only you could hold a tune?” he grinned.
“A real Mata Hari, me!” she paused for a moment and grabbed the serviette from Lou, “You got a pen?” Lou continued searching his pockets till he found the stub of a pencil and Mandy began to scribble a couple of lines.
“What would you like?” the voice of the waitress sounded from beside them.
Mandy looked up and Lou saw that she was about to recite some dietary based order before her attention turned to the glass fronted counter at the side of the shop. “You know... I’ll have a bacon sandwich please and a cappuccino, please.”
“Just another black coffee for me, thank you!” added Lou. The waitress studied Mandy for a couple of moments who simply looked back up at her smiling before she turned away.
Her attention came back to Lou, “Well, I’m skiving from school so I may as well rebel completely!”
“Today you’ll take St. Martins Lane, tomorrow you’ll take Winchester!” Lou grinned.
“A Cohen fan, I’m quite fond of him as well. So, not only are you YouTubing me but you’re Googling me as well!”
“You make it sound so sordid!” Lou frowned.
“Well between Photoshop and the Paparazzi my Gynaecologist doesn’t need me to visit!” Mandy smiled sadly.
“A lot to be said for anonymity... so you’re disguise fooled you’re ‘watchers’?”
“Well with the help from Miss Clumsy-” Mandy caught the momentary look on Lou’s face, “You don’t have to be like that... Clarissa now calls me Miss Grumpy and we call all my ‘watchers’ Mr Bland. We’re slowly working our way through the entire cast and crew, though to be honest most of the male dancers tend to fall into the Mr Happy or Pink category or words to that effect!” she said with a grin. “I might as well be a born-again virgin for all the interest they show me!” Mandy unzipped the Parka and revealed a plain blue cotton dress beneath, “Clarissa is in my dressing room enjoying my afternoon siesta and was kind enough to lend me her clothes when I called her in to ‘berate’ her!” Mandy tilted her head, “Odd really Mr Bland seems so much happier when I’m acting like a spoilt child... really hated it when I got him to bring the crates of drink on stage... though he might be more upset later... he’s got no idea why I want a patchwork quilt!”
“A patchwork quilt?” Lou asked raising his eyebrow.
She grinned broadly, “Don’t you like surprises Lou?”
Lou’s mind was racing, “...err... usually!”
Mandy blushed, “Oh my... that does sound a little forward...” a small giggle slipped from her mouth as the waitress returned with our order and again stared at the incognito star who happily smiled back. “Sorry... to disappoint it’s for the performance and I’ll need your help... any good at improv’?”
“As long as it isn’t mime you want me to do!” Lou laughed, “If it’s to do with lighting I can hold my own.” He kept the fact that he was just a little disappointed secret.
“No not mime, don’t worry” replied Mandy.
It had been a long time since Mandy had enjoyed a pleasant afternoon just chatting and even longer since she had enjoyed a bacon sandwich with lots of Tomato sauce. Lou enjoyed Mandy as much as he didn’t care for Mysteria; he increasingly found it hard to remember that they were one and the same. She looked up at the clock on the wall and decided it was time she returned to the theatre. Lou felt a pang of sadness as he realised that Saturday, just three days away, would be the final date in London of Mysteria’s ‘Situation Normal All Funked Up’ tour. The entire cast and the Star would be moving on.
****
Lou sat on the small seat attached to the main spotlight used to highlight Mandy far below. He still didn’t particularly care for the music but he did watch her with a fascination and during some of the more risqué numbers when she cavorted with her dance troupe he did wish that it was just the two of them somewhere more private. They were about two thirds of the way through the set when she stopped still between songs. He watched fascinated and knew that the ‘surprise’ was coming. Even from his high perch he could see a Mr Bland twitching at the side of the stage just behind the curtain. He saw one of the dancers disappear briefly off stage on the opposite side to Mr Bland and was sure that it was Clarissa who reappeared after a moment carrying the large patchwork quilt which she handed to Mysteria.
All of a sudden Lou saw Mysteria disappear and Mandy emerge as she wrapped the quilt around her and sat down in the middle of the stage with the dance troupe sitting down around her as if they were waiting to be told a story. He clicked on his microphone that connected him to Al behind the main lighting control desk, “Cut all the lights Al, just leave me with the spot!”
“What? That’s not in the schedule!” grunted Al.
“No it isn’t and neither is what is going on down below...pay attention for fucks sake!”
Al did as he was told even if officially he was Lou’s boss and Mandy was left in an ocean of darkness as the only source of light sat like a large halo around her. Lou kept the Lux level at about 70% of what the spot could do and narrowed the white light so it only played around the quilt. Mandy looked up and smiled. The light reflected off the quilt like a small dim rainbow, the shadows of the seated dancers just discernable.
She closed her eyes and whispered “Ella is my hero.”Softly she began to sing without music.
“There's a saying old
Says that love is blind -
Still we're often told,
"Seek and ye shalI find."
So I'm going to seek”
It took Lou two lines to remember the song. He had hoped it would be ‘Time to Breathe’ but he was more than happy with the Gershwin classic. Slowly he added a light blue filter to the spot light; it lost most of the rainbow effect but matched the tone of Mandy’s voice.
“A certain lad I've had in mind.
Looking everywhere,
Haven't found him yet;
He's the big affair
I cannot forget.
Only man I ever
Think of with regret.
I'd like to add his initials to my monogram.”
Lou’s eyes were misting up and he was sure that plenty of others in the audience were as well. He was sure that it wasn’t necessary for Mandy’s voice to be amplified and at least the sound engineer had kept it to a minimum as the entire audience seemed to be holding their collective breath.
“Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost
lamb.
There's a somebody I'm longing to see
I hope that he
Turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me.”
She hit the note perfectly and her voice rang out through the theatre. Some of the dancers had edged forward and Lou broadened the beam. A couple lay at Mandy’s feet and some hugged their knees to their chests like small children even with their skimpy outfits.
“I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood.
I know I could
Always be good
To one who'll watch over me.
Although he may not be the man some
Girls think of as handsome
To my heart he carries the key.
Won't you telI him please to put on some
speed -
Follow my lead -
Oh! How I need
Someone to watch over me.
Someone to watch over me.”
Mandy lowered her head and wrapped her arms about it. The theatre was totally silent for at least twenty seconds. Lou lifted his hands and began to clap. Al had started to bring the lights back up and a couple of people below looked up before also beginning to applaud. Within ten seconds the entire audience were on their feet clapping furiously. Slowly Mandy rose and Clarissa came forward and removed the quilt from her shoulders. Lou pulled the normally unused small set of binoculars from one of his pockets and looked down at the Star. Genuine tears were running down her face as she glanced up and mouthed ‘Thank You’.
He imagined that the audience near to the front and possibly the troupe thought she may have been thanking God but he whispered back, “No thank you.”
He couldn’t help but grin as he saw two of the tall athletic dancers standing either side of Mandy in floods of tears. Once the applause had died down Mandy thanked them all and said “I hope you don’t mind... I could do with a minute or so...” she smiled broadly, “so I can put Mysteria back on, if that’s okay?”
The audience nodded and a mixture of voices saying ‘certainly’, you’re welcome’ and ‘please do’s came back.
****
The rest of the set carried on as normal though Lou did note an increase in the number of Mr Blands on both sides of the stage. He also listened closer to Mysteria’s singing and if she missed a word or sang a ‘bum’ note he never caught it and all the time with her spinning and gyrating all over the stage. Three encores were called for and she willingly gave them and left to a long standing ovation. She was quickly shepherded by the Blands.
Lou took his time and shut down all the systems as Al made his usual early getaway. Grabbing his coat from the staff changing room he headed towards the exit. The Star had been rushed away and the crowds had dissipated. Stepping into the evening the streets they were still busy with cinema goers and sightseers and a quite considerable number of drunks. He lit up a cigarette after coaxing the disposable to give a brief flame and was just about to head for the bus when he saw a figure to one side shuffling from foot to foot dressed in a Parka.
“Mandy?” he asked.
The figure turned, “No, I’m Clarissa...” she looked Lou up and down and continued, “You have to be Mr Pockets!”
Lou grinned despite his disappointment, “I guess I am Miss Clumsy.”
Miss Clumsy blushed and stepped forwards handing Lou a small card, she was about to turn away when she stopped and looked up into Lou’s eyes.