Ivy looked down at her clipboard. The first three auditions were complete and the next one, Toby Decker, wearing a full tuxedo, was taking his place to read a monologue for Mercutio, the second most important male part.
Her eye fell on a name near the bottom of her list: Garrick Stevens.
Her leg twitched and she had to scratch it, even though the irritation from half an hour ago had pretty much faded. She wondered if her legs would ever forget.
She had secured the little brown bag of evidence under the metal clip of her clipboard and was planning to show it to Camilla to get Garrick disqualified.
Unless … Ivy thought, there’s a better way to punish him …
An idea started forming in her mind.
Olivia was in the wings, stage right, waiting for her turn and watching Camilla as she scribbled notes on the current auditionee. Her face was like a halfway line – dead straight. Olivia didn’t have any clue what she was thinking.
‘Next!’ called out Ivy and Olivia knew that meant her.
She stood up, adjusted her light-blue maxi dress and strode up on to the stage. She winked at her sister, who gave a little thumbs up back, and went to stand on her mark.
The stage lights were bright, so she couldn’t see much of the auditorium. But that only helped her imagine the scene: standing on a balcony above an orchard filled with apple trees and sunshine, longing for the person she loved.
‘I’m performing Juliet’s monologue from Act Three, Scene Two,’ she said, peering out into the spotlights. Then she forced her mind to clear and began:
‘Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, towards Phoebus’ lodging …’
Olivia had been determined not to let the old-sounding English intimidate her, and she spoke each line carefully and clearly.
‘… Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night.’
She’d studied the passage carefully to figure out what each line was trying to say and, now, all she had to do was think of Jackson to feel the romance of Shakespeare’s poetry. It felt so natural that she could get lost in the words.
‘Give me my Jackson; and, when he shall die …’
She heard a couple of giggles and at least one snort from the audience.
Oh no! Olivia thought. I just said ‘Jackson’ instead of ‘Romeo’!
She tried to stay in character. Oh no, oh no, this is bad – don’t blush. Don’t blush!
Olivia was sure her face was at least a little rosy – but she forced herself to deliver the rest of the monologue. The spotlights were sending out loads of heat and she could feel her body getting warmer and warmer, but she tried to blank that from her mind and concentrate on the rest of the monologue.
‘Take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun …’
When she reached the end of her piece she gave a small curtsey and the audience clapped enthusiastically.
I think that’s more than they did for Charlotte, Olivia hoped. But is that enough for me to get the part?
She walked off the stage, trying to read Camilla’s face, but she was bent over her clipboard, busy writing something. It almost looked like she was frowning until her friend looked up and gave her a little wink. Olivia’s heart leaped.
That has to be good, Olivia thought. Oh please, oh please, oh please! Getting this role meant everything to Olivia.
As she made her way back to her seat, she caught sight of Jackson, who was grinning like a Mister Smoothie server. Olivia blushed to herself. The perfect boyfriend, the perfect Romeo. It all just had to add up to the perfect first kiss.
Olivia decided she would go over and sit with him until his audition, but then Ivy called out his name.
She sat down in the nearest seat to watch him at work.
He climbed on to the stage and stood on his mark, looking up towards the top tier of the audience. ‘But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun …’
Jackson spoke softly, but he held everyone’s attention. Camilla was leaning forward in her seat and the muttering audience had fallen utterly silent.