The Little Theatre on the Seafront: The perfect uplifting and heartwarming read

‘Hear, hear,’ said the mayor and Lottie scowled at his simpering.

As the end of the day neared, the weary judges tucked into supplies of biscuits Sid had brought with him. ‘Oh, custard creams,’ said Lottie, taking three. ‘My favourite. Conner, would you like some?’

From the edge of the stage where Conner sat playing on his phone, he lifted his head and crept over, keeping his eyes on Mayor Cunningham. Poor boy, the mayor was quite intimidating.

‘Thank you so much for coming and helping us out on a Saturday,’ said Lottie. ‘I hope your mates didn’t tease you about being busy with some oldies like us?’

‘Nah, they didn’t.’ He took a couple of biscuits and shuffled away back to the steps. Lottie frowned. She couldn’t work out if he was shy or lonely. She hoped it was the former.

‘Who’s next?’ asked Mayor Cunningham.

‘Lee Carter,’ Lottie replied. ‘He’s the last one.’

Mayor Cunningham’s small pig-like eyes screwed up in disgust. ‘He’s a criminal. And he’s late.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be here any minute,’ said Lottie, ignoring the other remark.

‘Alright?’ called a voice from the back of the room. Thankful that Mayor Cunningham hadn’t said anything ruder, Lottie went to meet Lee at the door.

Lee Carter was one of the mechanics at the local garage. He was known for getting into the odd scuffle and had been fancied by all the girls in Lottie’s year at school, including her. He had a strong square jaw and short gelled hair, and had they been planning a production of Lady Chatterley’s Lover, it was clear what part he would play.

‘What will you be performing for us today?’ asked Lottie, by now feeling like a pro.

As he climbed the steps to the stage two at a time, Lee said, ‘I thought I’d do a bit of acting. S’alright, innit?’

‘Lovely,’ said Lottie. ‘Whenever you’re ready.’

Lee nodded and without pausing began to recite Marlon Brando in The Godfather. It was entertaining and not comical in the slightest. He had stage presence and charisma by the bucket full and Lottie couldn’t pull her eyes away. If she had anything to do with it, he was definitely in.

When Lee left, the mayor turned to Lottie. ‘Definitely not.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ Lottie replied, unable to hide the exasperation from her voice. ‘Why not? I thought he was great.’

‘He’s a criminal.’

‘He is not,’ said Lottie, matching his determined expression. ‘He’s a perfectly nice man.’

Sid sat forward. ‘He got a warning for drunk and disorderly once, that’s all. And it was New Year’s Eve. Everyone’s drunk on New Year’s Eve.’

Not me, thought Lottie, sadly. And not Sid. She was normally asleep by nine-thirty. ‘I think you’re overreacting, Mayor Cunningham. All he did was try and steal a bollard.’

‘He looks like a thug.’

‘I disagree,’ Lottie said, remaining calm. After all, she was the acting chairman and she could pull that card out again if she needed to. ‘And I vote yes.’

The mayor eyed her disapprovingly then turned to David for his casting vote. ‘David?’

‘I vote yes, too,’ said David. ‘He’s a very good mechanic.’

It wasn’t quite the reason Lottie was hoping for but never mind. Lee was still in.

The mayor looked back at the empty stage, his lips a thin pink line.

Just as they were beginning to pack up, the door squeaked again and Lottie spun around to see Sarah Powell creeping in. She grabbed her clipboard and checked the list. Sarah wasn’t due to be here. Perhaps she’d come to speak to the mayor.

‘Excuse me,’ said Sarah in a small voice. ‘I was wondering if I could still audition.’

‘What the devil?’ exclaimed Mayor Cunningham edging out into the aisle and Lottie shot him a glance that said, ‘Shut up or I’ll stab you.’ Thankfully, he did, but she followed him with her eyes until he sat back down, just to make sure. At first Lottie thought Sarah was ill. Her face was pale and her top lip clammy. Then, from the way she was wringing her hands in front of her, Lottie realised she was nervous. No, not nervous, terrified.

Although she’d been pretty hateful at the committee meeting, the Sarah that stood in front of her was almost childlike. Lottie felt sorry for her and said, ‘No, it’s not too late. What are you going to do for us?’

‘I … I was going to sing. If that’s okay?’

‘Yes, it’s fine. I won’t have your music though. Will you be okay without it?’

Sarah nodded and Lottie worried she might throw up at any minute.

‘This way,’ said Lottie, gently holding her elbow and leading her forwards. She could feel her trembling beneath her fingers. Sarah climbed the stairs and gazed around as if searching for the exits, ‘Take your time, Sarah,’ said Lottie, softly. She’d never seen anyone so terrified. Lottie angled her head and smiled, hoping to put her at ease.

Even from the third row they could see Sarah was shaking and her hands were clasped in front of her, the knuckles white. ‘What are you going to sing for us, Sarah?’ asked Lottie, keeping her tone light and friendly. She hoped it would prompt her to begin.

Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She was paralysed with fear. Lottie felt the heavy silence of the room weigh on her shoulders. The poor woman. This must be so embarrassing and awful for her. Unsure what to do Lottie turned to Sid. He winked with his usual easy confidence, then walked onto the stage and whispered something into Sarah’s ear. Some of the fear disappeared from her face and she gave a nervous laugh. Sid returned to his seat and Sarah closed her eyes.

After a pause she began singing ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’, in a soft but powerful voice. The song was one of Lottie’s favourites and always gave her goose bumps but as Sarah sang even her goose bumps got goose bumps. Every nerve in Lottie’s body tingled with emotion. Sarah’s hands moved in time, even without the music, clenching and releasing her fists.

There was something so pure and heartfelt in Sarah’s voice, it was like it enveloped Lottie’s soul. Sarah’s face registered terror when she finished and opened her eyes to the stunned silence. Lottie immediately stood and clapped and Sid and David joined her.

‘Thank you,’ said Sarah, in a hushed voice, her face reddening and tears forming in her eyes.

‘You were marvellous,’ said Lottie. ‘You’re definitely in.’

Mayor Cunningham slowly stood to join them and once Sarah had left said, ‘If that’s all of them, Miss Webster, I’ll be off.’

‘Yes, that’s everyone,’ Lottie confirmed, an enormous smile on her face. ‘Quite a good turnout, don’t you think, Mayor Cunningham? I think it’s been a pretty successful day.’ She didn’t care if he couldn’t wait to be out of there, or if she was just rubbing it in – she’d had the best day ever and Greenley-On-Sea had proved to be a hotbed of talent.

Mayor Cunningham strode past her then paused at the door. ‘I concede, Miss Webster, it was a better turnout than I expected.’

Lottie and Sid high-fived. The Greenley Players were officially reinstated.

Chapter 8 (#ulink_9b646eee-ed01-5e37-9398-d4a4d5b235c5)

Sid wandered aimlessly along the seafront and took a deep breath of the salty sea air. The bright gold afternoon sun reflected off the sea in a glorious haze of light and strangely shaped clouds drifted across the sky. The seashore was littered with clumps of dark green seaweed and the regular dog walkers chased their mischievous dogs away from it.

Sid was bored. Lottie was busy again. She had another committee meeting coming up and wanted to go through all her nan’s papers to make sure she knew everything inside and out. As the auditions had gone so well and the troupe was now all go, she’d decided to catalogue all the different plays the old Greenley Players had done and do something called ‘brainstorming’, which sounded incredibly painful. Sid had offered to help but she wanted to be alone. Perhaps he could nip round later with her favourite pizza. She’d like that.

Sid sighed. He was happy for her, of course he was, it was just that all this suddenly being alone took some getting used to. They’d spent mostly every weekend together for years. Not all day every day, but they’d nip into town together, go to Nick’s record shop, look at the tat in the Saturday market, have Sunday lunch in their favourite old-fashioned pub, that sort of thing. He kicked a stray pebble back onto the beach. Anyway, she was too busy to meet him and as it was a Sunday he found himself at a loose end with no one to play with.

The piece of paper with Selena’s number on rustled in his pocket. She’d given it to him weeks ago and he still hadn’t had the courage to do anything with it. Every time he looked at the note and thought about calling he’d see the carnage in his flat and decide she was still way out of his league. But it wasn’t too late, was it? Not like with Lottie. He could always call Selena and see if she wanted to meet for a drink. He wouldn’t say dinner, he didn’t want to sound pushy. But they could have a drink as old uni mates catching up, just like Selena suggested.