Olivia's Enchanted Summer Page 4

  “Brilliant, everyone,” said Jack. “Better a late dress rehearsal than no dress rehearsal. If you can do that well when we perform in front of an audience, we’ll have a hit on our hands.” He looked at his watch. “There’s just over two hours before you make your Edinburgh debuts, so take off your costumes, hang them up, stretch, relax a little and have something to eat if you want. But nothing heavy. Everybody needs to be back here in one hour in costume and ready to warm up again.”

  The reason they were having such a late dress rehearsal was because they’d spent the afternoon and evening of the previous day buying camping gear and setting it up in a campsite about ten miles outside Edinburgh. By the time they had bought and pitched the tents, it was getting late and everyone was far too exhausted to do a lengthy technical rehearsal, checking every single lighting and sound cue. So they decided to leave both rehearsals for the following day. That meant they’d had the tech, then the dress rehearsal, and soon they’d be performing for the first time in front of a paying audience.

  After they had pitched the tents yesterday, which had proved tricky for some (Will and Connor’s tent collapsed twice before Lydia and Georgia lent them a hand), everyone had gathered to enjoy the late-evening sunshine while Jack and Pablo took Alicia back to her B&B. There was no way Alicia’s arthritis would let her camp. “I’d be stiff as a corpse each morning,” she said, making light of the constant pain in which she lived.

  Jack and Pablo had returned with a piping hot fish supper for everyone. They all sat eating happily and swapping camping stories.

  “Do you remember when you, me and your dad went camping the summer you were seven, Georgia?” asked Lydia. “We didn’t realise we’d pitched the tent over an underground stream and when it rained in the night the water rose and ran right through the middle of the tent!”

  Georgia smiled sadly. Now her parents were getting divorced, she missed those summer family holidays. It was one of the reasons she’d been so pleased about being part of the Swan Circus. She loved her mum, but holidays with just the two of them weren’t the same.

  After the earlier disaster of the day, everyone was ebullient. The evening was balmy, camping out was different and fun, and hopes were high.

  “I can hardly believe we turned it around, everything looked totally hopeless,” said Aeysha. “And that makes it seem all the sweeter,” she added, popping a large chip smothered with salt and vinegar into her mouth.

  “I always knew it was going to be OK,” said Eel.

  “You didn’t seem quite so sure at the time,” said Georgia. “Just think, if it hadn’t been for Livy, we’d be on a train back to London now, not spending a night under the stars before making our Edinburgh Festival debut.” She looked at Olivia, who had pushed her fish and chips away almost untouched. She seemed to be reading a discarded local newspaper, lost in a story about a breakin at the Tiffany Hotel in which the sapphires of the wife of a famous Scottish actor had been stolen.

  “Are you all right, Livy?” asked Aeysha. “You’re really quiet.”

  “I’m just tired,” said Olivia stiffly. She was delighted that the Swans were going to be able to perform at the Fringe, but all the pleasure seemed to have gone out of it for her. She couldn’t get the conversation she’d overheard out of her head. OK, so Jack had made a stupid mistake over the accommodation, but at some point in his past he had clearly made one that he didn’t think could ever be put right. Olivia thought that she knew her dad so well. But maybe she barely knew him at all? What had he done, and how did Alicia know about it? It made Olivia feel as if her whole world had tilted on its axis.

  Eel leaned over and nudged her sister. “Livy, if you’re not going to eat your chips, can I have them?”

  Now it was the next day, and the children were back at the big top on Calton Hill ready to make their debut. There were two smaller tents behind their large one that served as dressing rooms, one for the boys and one for the girls. There was just half an hour before they would be performing in front of a real audience.

  Olivia’s phone bleeped with a text from Tom. It simply said: Break a leg, which was the way showbusiness people said “Good luck” before a performance.

  Georgia peered out of the entrance to the girls’ dressing room. She looked at the little makeshift café that they’d made with some rickety tables and chairs bought from a second-hand shop off South Clerk Street. A couple and their two children were being served refreshments by Kasha, but otherwise it was deserted.

  “We go up in thirty minutes and there’s almost nobody here,” she said to Eel, worriedly.

  “People will still be dashing here from other shows,” said Eel confidently, as she peeped over Georgia’s shoulder. “Look!” she said. “There’s that woman and her kids from that café where we left a poster. That’s nine people. But there’ll be more. Jack said that lots of people won’t book in advance but just turn up on the day.”

  “Anyone know how many tickets the Fringe box office has sold?” asked Aeysha. She and Olivia had joined their friends at the tent entrance.

  “Yes,” said Olivia. “I asked Alicia after the dress rehearsal.”

  Everyone looked at her expectantly. “So?” said Georgia.

  “Nine,” said Olivia flatly.

  “Oh,” said Eel, sounding like a balloon deflating. The minutes ticked by and they took it in turns to check the box office. It was deserted. Not a person in sight.

  “Maybe the wrong time is printed in the Fringe programme?” said Georgia, but she knew it wasn’t. They had all read the entry so many times. After a few minutes, they heard Pablo announcing that the show was about to start and the tiny audience trickled into the big top.

  Jack came and got the children from their dressing tents, pulling on his dark-blue cloak as he walked towards them. He gathered all of them together.

  “Right,” he said. “Are you all ready? The Swan Circus is about to make its debut, and let’s make it a glorious one!”

  “But there’s almost nobody here,” said Kylie. “There are more of us in the cast than there are in the audience.”

  A few other people murmured tetchily, too. Connor O’Toole mentioned something about a showbiz rule that meant you didn’t have to do a show if the cast outnumbered the audience. Will said he didn’t think that applied to the Edinburgh Fringe. Aeysha said that one of her many cousins had been in a show with only one person in the audience, who’d turned out to be a critic from a national newspaper. This had been a disaster because the show required a lot of audience participation and everyone knew critics hated audience participation. The show had been given one star.

  It was so disappointing. Everyone was tired after the dramas of the day before and from not being used to sleeping under canvas. Some people had been awake since 4 a.m. when the first birds started singing. It had been an incredibly long day and now they were about to debut before an audience of nine. After all their hard work it was completely disheartening.

  “I think we should cancel,” said Kylie mutinously.

  “I know the audience is small,” said Jack. “But this is the first preview. It will take time to build an audience.” Although his voice was bright, his eyes looked so defeated and worried that Olivia felt a sudden surge of protective love for him. It didn’t matter what he had done in the past. He was her dad and she loved him. She glared at Kylie.

  “It doesn’t matter if there are nine or nine hundred people,” she said fiercely. “Of course we’re going to do the show. We’re Swans. For Swans, the show always goes on and we’ve got to be the best we can be.”

  Jack looked at her gratefully. “Liv’s right,” he said. “If we give those nine people a really great show, they’ll tell all their friends, who will come and tell their friends. That way the audience will grow.”

  “Great,” muttered somebody at the back. “So by the end of the run we might have a whole thirty-six punters.” A few people laughed.

  “Nobody is forcing you to do it,” said
Olivia hotly. “If you can’t be bothered, you could just pack up and go home. But I’m staying, and I’m going to do a show.”

  “Us too!” shouted Georgia, Aeysha, Will and some of the others. “Of course we want to do the show!” So many people yelled their agreement that there was no need to take a vote. Even Kylie was swept up in the moment.

  “Good,” said Jack. “Then let’s make it a brilliant one.”

  They all walked quickly towards the big top as the music began, their excitement rising. Jack squeezed Olivia’s hand. “Thanks for helping me out, Liv. I know I can always trust you to support me, both up on the wire and down on the ground.”

  Olivia looked up into her father’s open face and tired blue eyes and suddenly forgot all her suspicions. Whatever he had done was in the past. Perhaps one day he would tell her about it. But for the time being he needed all the support he could get and she was going to give it to him. And she knew that once the show began and the adrenalin kicked in, everyone would give the performance of their lives.

  “Everything’s going to be OK, Dad,” she said. “Enchantment is going to be a huge success.”

  Chapter Six

  The show was heading towards its finale. In the middle of the big top, Georgia, Kylie and some of the others, dressed in various shades of green, were swinging round and round, on great multicoloured skeins of material known as silks. They were wearing ballet shoes and were poised en pointe. The effect was beautiful, as if a forest of slender, delicate trees were swaying gracefully in the wind under a series of falling rainbows. The music reached its dreamy climax as the girls spun faster and faster, until it seemed as if they might rise off the ground and take flight. The audience cheered in appreciation, and the Swans moved seamlessly into the very final sequence of the show. The audience were loving every minute. As the show ended and the final cheers died away at last, Olivia and the others ran excitedly into the girls’ dressing room.

  “It may only have been nine people, but a standing ovation is a standing ovation,” said Georgia delightedly. Olivia, who was texting Tom to tell him about it, grinned and nodded.

  “They loved it,” said Aeysha. “Particularly the silks. I love that bit so much, too. You all look so ethereal. Who would have thought that something so simple as people tumbling and swinging on lengths of material could be so magical?”

  “It might look simple,” said Georgia, “but I’m hanging on for dear life.”

  “But you don’t look as though you are,” said Aeysha. “You make it look easy. The whole sequence makes me feel tingly when I watch it.”

  “It’s because of Kasha’s music,” said Eel.

  “And Pablo’s lighting,” said Aeysha. “The way it throws shadows against the sides of the tent is brilliant. Really spooky.”

  “And the way he and Jack have choreographed it all,” added Olivia.

  “And,” finished Eel, “because we’re all so brilliant on the silks. Well, at least for beginners.”

  “Yes,” said Alicia, who’d been listening in, amused. “For total beginners, you are all brilliant on the silks. The cleverness is in the way Jack has disguised your very considerable limitations and played to your strengths. There’s no one thing that makes that sequence so good, it’s the mix of all of them. Take just one element away and it would be distinctly average. The sum is more than the parts. But well done, everyone. I was glad to see you gave it your all, even for such a tiny audience. It’s a lovely show. One of the best the Swans have done.”

  Olivia knew that was high praise coming from Alicia. When Olivia and Eel had first arrived at the Swan, their grandmother had dismissed the circus as having no value and had a grudge against it because it had taken Toni away from her and the London stage. Olivia was just beaming at her gran when the woman from the café came up.

  “I just wanted to tell you how much my kids and I enjoyed the show,” she said. “I’ll be telling all my customers about it. Shame there were so few people here, it was magic!”

  “I wish we could magic up some more,” said Eel, hopping from foot to foot.

  “You don’t need magic for that, just a good show. Now you just need to let people know about it,” said the café owner. “You need to get busy leafleting and offering half-price tickets. Maybe even give some tickets away. That’s what everyone does in the first few days to get an audience and generate word of mouth. It’s an investment.”

  Eel turned a cartwheel in her excitement.

  “Mum, I want to learn how to do that,” said the café owner’s son, who was about Eel’s age.

  “Me too,” said his sister, who was a couple of years older.

  “I’ll teach you,” said Eel, and she started showing them what to do while the woman continued talking to Alicia and Jack, who had come to join them all.

  The café owner smiled at Alicia. “It’s a pity there’s nowhere round here where my kids could learn circus skills. They’d love that.” She looked over to where her children were tumbling about with Eel and laughing. “Come on, you two, time to go,” she called, and they set off down the hill, calling their goodbyes over their shoulders.

  Olivia stared after them. “That’s it!” she said, very suddenly and very loudly.

  “That’s what?” asked Aeysha, puzzled. “What on earth are you talking about, Livy?”

  “She’s started rambling,” said Eel. “Exhaustion must have softened her brain.”

  “That’s what we need to do!” Olivia’s eyes were gleaming.

  “But what is the what?” asked Jack, rubbing his eyes. He was very, very tired and there was still work to be done to re-rigg and secure the tent overnight. Although they’d be taking any valuables back to the campsite every evening, he was still concerned that the tent would be vulnerable at night. What they really needed was some overnight security but that was too costly.

  “Circus-skills workshops!” said Olivia triumphantly.

  Jack’s eyes lit up. Alicia’s face sharpened too, as if her brain had gone into overdrive.

  Olivia continued. “We give free circus-skills workshops for kids who come to the shows. If the parents buy a family ticket, their children get a free workshop before the show or even the next day.”

  Alicia and Jack looked at each other with mounting excitement. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Liv, you are a genius!” cried Jack.

  “I think that’s going too far, Dad,” said Eel with a grin, “but it is a fab idea. Let’s do it.”

  The next morning Olivia and the others were out early on the Royal Mile. They were giving out Swan Circus flyers that were so freshly printed they still smelled woody and inky. Olivia gave them a surreptitious sniff and decided that it was the scent of optimism. They’d had five thousand leaflets printed that morning at what had seemed such vast expense that Alicia had commented drily that clearly the only people getting rich in Edinburgh during August were printers.

  Now the Swans were out in force on the streets before the afternoon performance, handing out the leaflets and trying to persuade people to come and see the Swan Circus. Some of the cast had gone down to the half-price Fringe ticket booth and others were out in costume, wandering the streets looking for likely punters.

  Alicia advised them only to give the flyers to people who showed genuine interest. Eel had already persuaded a party of Guides and their leader to come to the afternoon show. The leaflets offered a two-for-one deal, but they’d also had a smaller number of flyers printed that offered completely free seats, as well as flyers for the circus-skills workshop.

  “We ought to be heading back to Calton Hill,” called Aeysha. They’d all agreed to meet back at the big top at 2 p.m. to run through some parts of the show that needed polishing up a bit.

  “Coming,” said Olivia.

  They passed a newspaper seller, who was shouting out the headline news. “Daring jewel theft at Devlin Hotel. Thief gets away with priceless horde. Read all about it!”

  “Hey, that’s the hotel wher
e we saw those sisters and their dog yesterday,” said Georgia.

  “Expect they were staking the place out,” said Olivia, laughing. They walked to the top of the Mound and started down the steps.

  “Look,” said Olivia, pointing to where a crowd had gathered. “It’s that boy-magician we saw yesterday. Let’s go and see if he’s got a different routine.”

  She ran down the steps as Aeysha called out, “We don’t have time!” after her. By the time she and Georgia caught Olivia up, she and Eel had already threaded their way to the front of the thong.

  “I want you to choose a number,” the boy was saying. “Any number, maybe a favourite number, but for your own sakes make it a fairly simple one because you are going to do some arithmetic with it.” The boy paused. “Right, are you all thinking of a number?” The crowd nodded. “Don’t tell anyone your number, it’s your own personal secret number, and for you it’s going to be a magic number. Now double your number.” He paused briefly again. “Now add fourteen.” Some people, including Eel, frowned as they did the adding up.

  The boy continued. “What I need you to do now is to divide this new number in two.” Lots of people in the crowd were frowning in concentration. “Almost there,” he said. “I promise, your brains will stop hurting soon. Now take away your original number from your new number, and you will all be left with another number. And I can tell you that the number you are all left with is the number seven.”

  A ripple of amazement ran through the crowd and everyone applauded. The boy bowed several times. As the crowd drifted away, he started to pack up his things.

  “Hello again,” said Olivia. The boy looked up and grinned. Once again, Olivia was struck by how much he looked like Jack.

  “That’s clever but it’s not really magic, is it?” said Georgia shyly.

  The boy smiled again. “You’re right, it’s more maths than magic,” he said. “But most people don’t really want to know how or why it works. They just want to be amazed.” He leaned forward and plucked an apple from behind Georgia’s ear before taking a bite out of it. Georgia looked so astonished that they all laughed.