View Full Version : Wirksworth Warblers Annual Pantomime!
"Come in! Come in! Come in my dears
The Panto season's here!
We're about to tell a story
that will fill you with good cheer!
It's all about a lad named Jack
As lazy as can be
But he grew a magic beanstalk
And had golden eggs for tea!
So let us get things started
Without a major fuss
We'll sing our little hearts out
Though there's only four of us!"
"And each of us is playing at least 3 parts with umpteen costume changes! It's never going to work! And who writes those ridiculous opening poems? They get worse each year."
Edgar, a small plump man, jumped down from the stage where he had been reciting the opening poem to the Wirksworth Warblers' Annual Pantomime. He put a soothing arm around the shoulders of the only other person in the room - a taller, thinner man who wore a permanent frown.
"It's early days Keith. And don't let Virginia hear you saying unkind things about her opening poems, my word! She'll have your guts for garters!!"
"Early days my foot! The show opens in 8 weeks and how far have we got? Nowhere, that's where! I've only managed to learn the lines for one of my parts. The other two parts I've been given are in almost every scene. In fact I noticed last night that at one point I'm actually talking to myself! Two of my characters are having a conversation. How bloody ridiculous is that?!"
"Teething problems Keith. Don't get yourself in a lather."
"And as for Virginia" Keith went on. "Where is she? Where is the lady herself I ask you? Never bloody here when she's supposed to be, that's where!"
A large door at the back of the room opened. A lady walked in wearing
Erica Boulton
19-11-08, 04:08 PM
her regular dreary duffle coat and grey jeans, but to the men’s surprise she wore on her head a bright blue velvet turban.
“What the blazes is that….?” gasped Edgar.
“Isn’t it amazing? I’ve just been in to Age Concern and there it was…just waiting for me!”
“Just waiting for Aladdin, more likely. You’re not thinking of wearing it off stage, are you?”
“Of course! It keeps my ears warm.. and I think it suits me.”
Keith muttered something to the effect that he thought it was very nice, but could they get down to discussing the pantomime.
“I’ve found a perfect pinafore for Jack’s mother. It’s…“
“Sorry to interrupt you, Virginia. But could we hear that later. For the moment, we’re very short of cast. Mandy called in. She has a migraine and won’t be here today. I suppose you know that Maisie has gone and eloped with Jason?”
“No! Well, would you believe it? I didn’t think they even liked each other. How long has it been going on?”
“Ever since Cinderella, apparently. Anyway, that’s not the point. It means that we have lost our principal actor and the best lighting technician we’ve ever had. With the resignation of Jason’s parents who are devastated, we are now down to four. As Edgar was saying before you arrived, he has managed to learn his own lines, but I can’t expect either of you to do the same for the other parts too. Unless we recruit some others, I think we may have to cancel this year.”
The very thought of
The very thought of cancelling threw the other two into a thespian fit. Virginia fell on her knees in prayer-mode, knocking her turban off while Edgar began stomping around the hall banging his fist against the walls until the knuckles looked blue.
“Cut!” shouted Keith to bring them to order. “Now you know quite well that I will do all I can to prevent such a calamity. But we must be realistic. Let’s just go through the cast again and see where we can reasonably double…or treble-up. Virginia, you’ll play the giant’s housekeeper and the baron. Edgar will play Mrs Trott, Mr Bull who wants to buy the cow and possibly the king – that’ll work well because none are seen together. I’ll play the giant. I think that’s all I can do with producing it as well. Mandy, providing she’s better will play the princess and possibly the cow’s head. Could you manage the legs on top of your other parts, Virginia?”
“Haven’t you forgotten someone?”, asked Edgar, rubbing his sore knuckles.
Keith’s frown deepened with anxiety. “Have I?”
Edgar suppressed a giggle, knowing full well that Keith took the annual panto very seriously. He wasn’t sure how to break the bad news to him.
“Jack. Who is going to play Jack?"
Erica Boulton
24-11-08, 10:12 AM
It took three cups of hot tea, laced with a spot of brandy, to restore Keith to his normal self. Never in his career as a pantomime producer had he experienced such a dreadful oversight - the loss of a principal boy.
“Mandy is a possibility, of course. But her acting isn’t up to scratch. She looks good on the stage as a princess and she has a good voice, but that’s as far as it goes. Don’t you agree?”
“Definitely. She can’t act for toffee” said Virginia. “But, I’ve got a niece at Anthony Gell. She’s only 16, but she has played the leading role in two of the school productions. If she would agree, she might be OK. Would you consider auditioning her?”
“Oh for goodness sake, Virginia. Why in heaven's name didn’t you say so before? Bring her along! What’s her name?”
“Carlotta. Her surname is the same as mine - Arrowsmith. Carlotta Arrowsmith.”
Hans Offah
24-11-08, 01:38 PM
But someone else turned up for the auditions. She was an older woman with hidden talents and a complicated past - and she was wearing fishnet stockings, ideal for the part.
Erica Boulton
25-11-08, 12:23 PM
Virginia introduced her niece to Keith and Edgar, while the ‘older woman’ with hidden talents looked on. Her name was Esmeralda, but she liked to be referred to as Esme. She had seen the postcard, announcing the audition in the newsagent’s window and decided to apply. But as soon as she arrived, she felt that the others had more or less decided to select the younger woman.
Still, she was determined to show what she could do and when the producer asked her to read a few lines as Jack, she gave it her best shot.
“Don’t cry, Mother. That nasty landlord won’t get the better of us. We’ll find the money. Is there anything we could sell? If we had an antique or two, we could contact Cash in the Attic. Alas, we haven’t. Ah, I have an idea! Mother, how would you feel if we sold Clarabelle? She’s a good size now and she should fetch a handsome price. If you agree, I’ll take her to the cattle market tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Esme”, said Keith politely. “You did that very nicely. Could you please wait in the room next door. Edgar, please show Esme the way. Thank you. Now then, Carlotta, could you please read the same few lines for us.”
Keith handed her the script.
Carlotta took a glance at it and then returned it to him.
“I can’t possibly deliver this rubbish.”
Keith was astonished, Edgar almost fainted on the spot, but Virginia was furious.
“You ungrateful child! Who do you think you are?”
“I’m sorry, Aunty Ginny, but I just can’t deliver these words with any credibility. My friends would just burst out laughing. Unless…of course, it’s meant to be a comedy.”
“It’s not a bloody Shakespearean tragedy, for goodness sake. It’s a bloody panto!” screamed Keith.
Erica Boulton
27-11-08, 09:51 PM
Carlotta tossed her shiny golden ringlets cascading her exquisite little face. “Aunty Ginny”, she said gravely, “You didn’t warn me that I might be bullied. I wouldn’t be treated like this at Wirksworth Glee Club. There the producer and all the crew are very nice and friendly.”
“That may be the case. But are there productions as good as ours?” asked Edgar.
“They are better if you really want to know!” she replied. Carlotta picked up her coat and scarf lying on a chair and marched out leaving the three of them gob-smacked.
Keith began to wail. “What do we do now? What do we do without a Jack?”
“There is always Esmeralda next door”, reminded Edgar.
All eyes turned to the door. Virginia sighed, Edgar groaned and Keith carried on wailing.
"How old you do think she is?" asked Edgar.
It had occurred to Virginia fleetingly that if Esmeralda was deemed a possibility, then why not herself? After all, she was a founder member of the Warblers and had so much experience, especially with Wirksworth audiences. She knew what they liked. Why did age have to go and spoil everything?
But, trying her hardest to be helpful under the circumstances, she suggested, "Late 40's, possibly mid 30?"
"Not exactly what you'd call principal boy credentials, then?" said Edgar.
Viriginia ignored this remark, but she was growing increasingly impatient.
“I don’t know”, she said. “the woman had reasonable legs. Oh for goodness sake, Keith stop that wailing! I’ll go and fetch Esme. Let’s ask her to lift her skirt to the knees and sing us a song. Perhaps that will
decide one way or the other."
No sooner had Virginia gone into the adjacent room, she returned saying, "There's no one in here. I've looked everywhere. Esme has disappeared!"
"Don't be absurd, Virginia. How could she? There's no window in there."
"I tell you I've looked in all the boxes and the store cupboard...she's not here."
This news set Keith off wailing once more. “What is it about our Jack & The Beanstalk?”, he cried. “It is doomed….Jack is doomed, we are all doomed!”
Virginia could stand it no longer. “Okay, if Jack is doomed…then there ARE other pantos we could do.”
“Are you mad?”, Edgar cried, his plump face becoming very crimson. “All pantos require a principal boy…and all pantos require a cast of more than four people! I reckon we should retain our dignity as a team of Wirksworth Warblers and cancel this year.”
“How about calling on some of the Glee Club members. You never know, there may be some who couldn’t perform in their Aladdin this year…perhaps they had a cold or something like that. They might be delighted to have a second chance…what do you think?”
Suddenly, Keith perked up. “I know of at least one. Gordon Hartlepools. He couldn’t be in this year because he broke his leg climbing Black Rocks. And…yes! There is Rosie Danvers…a corker if ever there was one…she had to call off because her mother went into hospital and she had to look after the kids. Virginia, you are a genius. Where’s your mobile?”
The Wirksworth Warblers met for rehearsal the following week. On this occasion, Keith formally welcomed the return of Mandy and ecstatically introduced the two newcomers, Gordon and Rosie. It was just a question of confirming the cast once again and as a precaution against any lengthy discussion, Keith had typed out the final version on sheets of paper that he handed out.
It read as follows:-
JackTrott ….. Rosie Danvers
Mrs Trott ….. Gordon Hartlepools
Mr Bull …. Edgar Branagh
Giant’s housekeeper …. Virginia Arrowsmith
Princess Regina …. Mandy Carswell
The Baron …. Edgar Branagh
Giant Nastee …. Keith Lee
Clarabelle …. Virginia Arrowsmith and Edgar Branagh
Producer …. Keith Lee
There was a silence.
After a tense few seconds Virginia could hold her tongue no longer!
"I have some reservations Edgar" she started. "I have to say I feel quite tentative about you bringing up my rear, so to speak, cattle-wise. I am a lady and the proximity of your head to my posterior is a worry in all honesty."
"I can assure you there will be no impropriety on my part Virginia!" said a startled Edgar. Keith choked back his laughter behind his hand. He'd been expecting Virginia to protest about being cast as part of the cow but did not think she would be so vocal about her reasons!
Edgar was looking very put out. "I don't know if you are aware that my cousin, Kenneth, is a fine actor and his model behaviour has taught me how to behave in all aspects of the theatre. Being the bottom of a cow will not phase me, nor should my being there phase you madam!"
"My immediate concerns Virginia" said Keith, having regained his composure, "is exactly how we are to get you into the cow's head if you refuse to take off your new turban". Virginia had been wearing the turban every time she had been seen in public and it's presence was beginning to cause mutterings and giggles wherever she went.
"Well I shall not be taking it off Keith!" Virginia was adamant. She sat up straighter and lifted her chin. It was at this point that Mandy observed that one of Virginia's eyebrows was missing. An attempt had been made to draw an eyebrow in, but the actual eyebrow was most definitely not there. As Mandy was pondering this the Glee Club newcomers began to wonder just what they were getting themselves involved in. They were not used to such trivial bickering between cast members. Had they made a terrible mistake by agreeing to join the Warblers?
Suddenly, the door to the adjacent room was flung open and in walked Esme, looking extremely annoyed.
Keith dropped the script he had started to flick through and Edgar almost fell from his chair.
"What? How....? Where.....?" gasped Virginia. She had been the one who went to collect Esme from the room next door during the auditions and had found her missing. "You were nowhere to be seen woman? Where have you come from?"
Esme smoothed her hands down her crumpled blouse and skirt and smiled.
Erica Boulton
07-12-08, 11:00 AM
“You don’t need to know where I came from or where I’m going. But I think it is only fair that I tell you that my full name is Dr Esmeralda Pemberton. I am a professional witch – qualified with a PhD from the Academy of International Witches, based in Bonsall. Yes, I know I auditioned for Jack, but you didn’t seriously think that I would consider the part, did you? No, I’m here to play the wicked witch – every panto as you know has one. With my qualifications you are guaranteed the very best quality witch performance. And, I should warn you, I come and I go as I please. No need for stage directions.”
The others stood aghast.
Keith spoke first. “B..but we haven’t got a witch in the cast. Here’s the list.”
Dr Pemberton shook her head. “I don’t need to look at your list. I’ve already seen it through my magic powers. The giant needs someone to give him a regular dose of evil – one tablespoon every two hours. And who better qualified than me to ensure he takes it? Of course, I have to be close on hand to do this. Well, shouldn’t we be starting the rehearsal?”
James Ogilvy
09-12-08, 09:41 AM
All the worries about her position in the cow suddenly evaporated when Virginia noticed the nervous twitch on Keith’s face - usually prevalent on the first night of a performance. Clearly he was affected by Esme’s be-witching behaviour. Virginia thought the best thing to aid Keith's twitch would be to carry on as if nothing had happened.
“I’ll start by reading my opening poem and that will put us in the mood. OK with you Keith?
“Yes, good idea. Just adjust your turban before you begin, it’s falling over your left eyebrow...the false one. Be careful not to smudge it, darling. Yes, that’s right. OK, begin. ”
Virginia cleared her throat, pulled her tummy muscles in and again delivered,
"Come in! Come in! Come in my dears
The Panto season's here!
We're about to tell a story
that will fill you with good cheer!
It's all about a lad named Jack
As lazy as can be
But he grew a magic beanstalk
And had golden eggs for tea!
So let us get things started
Without a major fuss
We'll sing our little hearts out
Though there's only four of us!"
Wayne Dwopp
10-12-08, 10:56 AM
Sharp as a button, George picked up the mistake. “Four? Aha, now I've got the message. These Warblers didn’t ask us because they were looking for what we can do, oh no. They just wanted us to make their cast bigger. And to be honest, after all the shernanikins going on here tonight, I’d rather join a group of performing sausages….!” George grabbed Rosie’s arm, she grabbed her coat and scarf, and they both stormed out.
“Performing sausages?” Mandy said. “Are they a pop group?”
[This wasn't written by me, but a friend of Tia, my sister. She wants to write a book one day. She's a bit shy. I said I'd put it on here for her.]
James Ogilvy
12-12-08, 02:19 PM
Very kind of you, Wayne. Best wishes, Jimmy. To continue....
Keith started another wailing session while Edgar, having always found salt and vinegar potato crisps helpful in situations such as these, happily retrieved the unopened bag at the bottom of the inside pocket of his overcoat. Virginia just slumped on a chair, took off her shoes and removed her turban.
“Whooh!” she said, rubbing her head. “That’s a relief!”
“What are you talking about woman”, wailed Keith, missing the point entirely. We’ve lost two principal actors and we’re now back to square one!”
“I say, steady on old chap. It doesn’t say much of your confidence in the rest of us”, said Edgar.
Cogitating about whether or not the Performing Sausages had been on Pop Idol, Mandy suddenly became uncharacteristically excited. “I’ve got an idea”, she said, “if Esmeralda can do witch-like things… couldn’t she find someone to play the part of Jack? Somebody from outer space, perhaps?”
"A kind of Dr Who, is that what you mean?" asked Keith. "Yes..er I think I quite like that. It's certainly novel. How do you think the kids would feel about it?"
"They'd love it. Think of all the Harry Potter stuff they go for these days. Magic is all the rage", replied Mandy.
"Well, let's put it to Esmeralda. See what she says..." Keith looked around the room. "Did she leave? I didn't see her go. Would you have look in the room next door, please Mandy. See if she's in there. And Edgar, could you please munch your crisps with a little less noise and kindly wake up Virginia. Her snoring is giving me a headache."
Esme miraculously appeared before Mandy had reached the door, carrying a large picnic hamper. “Here”, she said, “do help yourselves. There’s hot coffee in the thermos flask, and non-alcoholic cold drinks if anyone prefers. I’ve buttered some bagels and there is an assortment of cheese wrapped up in cling film. I always find a little refreshment helps a rehearsal on its way. Cutlery wrapped in napkins and enough paper cups and plates to go round. OK?”
While everybody was busily eating and drinking, Esme said she had some good news to announce.
“You are looking for someone to play the part of Jack. I have just the right person for you. She is waiting outside for me to call her in.”
“But who is she?” Keith tried to keep calm. “With all due respect, Esme, you might think she is OK for the part, but I think…as producer, I should be the one
to make the decisions, not a witch-like creature such as yourself!”
Esme saw red. “What did you call me? A witch-like creature? Well, you’d better apologise for that my dear man, or I might have to do something to you that you’ll regret as a producer of pantomimes.”
Fascinated by this threat, Edgar asked, “What would that be?”
“I’d make him tone deaf, that’s all. He would be confined to producing only serious drama for the rest of his life.”
Mandy stared in disbelief. “You wouldn’t, would you?” she asked.
“Oh yes, I would”, exclaimed Esme.
Keith smirked, "You wouldn't dare!"
"Oh yes, I would."
Erica Boulton
18-12-08, 10:56 AM
“Okay, okay…I apologise. I’ll audition her for Jack - is she still outside? Then call her in.”
Minutes later, Esme returned with a stunning young woman in her late teens, flamboyantly, but stylishly dressed, as only a student of dramatic art could carry off with aplomb.
“Keith, this is Rowena.”
Keith politely shook her hand, and then gave her the script.
After carefully reading it through, Rowena stood to face her ‘audience’.
“Don’t cry, Mother”. ‘Jack’ paused, made a couple of paces towards his imaginary Mother and gestured to show consolation. “That nasty landlord won’t get the better of us. We’ll find the money.”
After imaginary hugging his imaginary mother, Jack then walked around an imaginary room, checking imaginary shelves and cupboards. “Is there anything we could sell?" Jack pondered for a momentand scratched his head. "If only we had an antique or two, we could contact Cash in the Attic." Longish pause for a moment or two and then… ”Alas, we haven’t.”
The despair in the actor’s voice as she delivered these last three words brought tears to Mandy and affected Edgar who had to get a handkerchief out of his pocket to blow his nose.
But then Jack’s face suddenly lit up. “Ah, I have an idea! Mother, how would you feel if we sold Clarabelle? She’s a good size now and she should fetch a handsome price. If you agree, I’ll take her to the cattle market tomorrow.”
Rowena faced her audience, with a radiant smile on her face.
“Bravo!” shouted Edgar clapping his hands in the air. “Bravo!” echoed Mandy and Virginia.
Keith was clearly impressed. “Rowena, thank you; you will play Jack in the Wirksworth Warblers 2008 pantomime! OK everybody, I want you back in a week’s time. You may read from script for one week only; after that I expect you will have learned your lines. Any questions before we close rehearsal? Yes, Esme did you want to say something?”
“I just wanted to know the name of the musical director - that's if you've got one.”
Erica Boulton
19-12-08, 10:25 PM
“Why should you need to know?”
“I was curious, that’s all. You do have a musical director, then?”
Aware that Esme could accuse him of secrecy he very reluctantly told her that the Warblers’ have had the same musical director for the past five pantomimes.
“His name is Maurice du Bec. Maurice arranges the score and has already started rehearsing the chorus – children included - in the school hall.” In spite of himself, Keith couldn’t resist adding, “I do hope you weren’t thinking of performing another of your miracles, Esme.”
James Ogilvy
21-12-08, 12:28 PM
“Well I was, actually. But as you are happy with du Bec, that’s OK. I don’t think Elton will be too disappointed.”
“Elton?” asked Mandy. “You don’t mean… Elton John, do you?”
“Who else?” replied Esme. “But forget it now. We’ll be back in a week’s time. Come Rowena, say goodnight to everyone!”
To everyone’s amazement, both of them disappeared under their very eyes. It was as if there was a trap door in the floor and they had fallen into it.
Edgar shuddered. “By gad, she is a witch! Keith, quickly grab hold of Virginia – she’s going to keel over! Mandy, pick up her turban!”
Tia Dwopps
22-12-08, 01:00 PM
In rushing to help Virginia, the three of them banged their heads into each other. As they looked over each other’s bruises, Virginia woke up. “What is going on? Oh my turban, thanks, Mandy.”
“You need a cup of tea. Your not fit to walk home so I’ll give you a lift”, said Keith.
“If every rehearsal is going to end in this kind of a shamble, then I think you should call it a day, Keith.”
“When did I ask your advice, Edgar? You are right, I didn't. So don’t give it! Virginia and Mandy, are you both recovered? Right, then let’s all go home.”
At rehearsal the following week
[Writen by my friend, Emily.]
At rehearsal the following week, Virginia and Mandy were the first to arrive and took their seats. Then Edgar and Keith.
“Rowena and Esme are late”, grumbled Keith.
“Keep your hair on, old chap. They will be here soon. And…as a bit of friendly advice, keep calm. Don’t let the woman rattle you so much.”
“You mean…’the old witch’? I’ll try my best. Well, let’s begin without them. OK everyone, some deep breaths before we begin to relax ourselves.” He stood up to face them. “Breathe in…one, two, three and out. And again, breathe in…one, two, three and out. Very good. Got your scripts? Right, Virginia, on stage with your opening poem!”
Keith sat down to view her performance. He couldn’t help notice Virginia’s turban was looking rather grubby and had a distinct smell of Wirksworth’s Fish Bar emanating from it.
Keith got up and Virginia sat down. “Thank you, Virginia. Now, if Esme was here with Rowena we could continue. Where the hell are they?”
In unison, the others shouted, “They’re right behind you!”
Keith turned round. “Oh no, they are not.”
“Oh yes, they are!”
This dialogue was repeated several times, until eventually…
until eventually Esme and Rowena were made visible to Keith.
“Oh you’ve finally decided to turn up for rehearsal! Thank you very much.”
Esme refrained from telling Keith that they’d been there for well over quarter of an hour and that it wasn’t their fault that Keith couldn’t see them. This was just as well for Keith’s irritability was beginning to reach boiling point. Edgar was aware of how much it had increased since he gave Keith his advice earlier on and became annoyed that Keith hadn’t taken any notice of him. “Silly man!”, he thought to himself.
“Do you think we could all make friends and start again?” asked Mandy. (Her proud mother always thought Mandy would one day become prime minister of England, having been blessed with diplomacy inherited from her great uncle, Arthur Carswell.)
“Don’t include me, Mandy. I’ve not fallen out with anybody”, said Virginia in a vehement tone. Indeed, she had left the house that evening feeling in the mood for a party. She had even prepared a plate of mince pies, garnished with spinach leaves and was
Erica Boulton
26-12-08, 06:42 PM
looking forward to handing them out during the break. “In fact, after nights lying awake worrying about, I’ve now reconciled myself to being Clarabelle’s head, which is saying a lot I can tell you.”
“Oh, I say that’s jolly sporting of you, old gal”, said Edgar giving her a pat on the back.
Keith asked Jack to step on ‘stage’ and begin his introductory lines. “Hello everybody! Are there any children in the house? I can’t hear you. Are there any children in the house?” Ah, that’s better. Do you know who I am? Yes, you are right, I am Jack Trott and I live in this house with my mother. Mother, are you there?”
There was no reply. The rest of the cast looked at each other. Keith then began to wail. “Damn, damn, and another damn. We’ve been spending time searching for Jack, we’ve forgotten about his damned mother!”
“Couldn’t Edgar play the role?” asked Mandy.
“Edgar? Are you crazy? A good actor he is, but a comedian he is not. And it is essential that Mrs Trott is played with a good sense of comedy. Damn, damn and another damn!” Keith looked at Esme. “I don’t suppose you have another actor up your miracle sleeve, have you?”
“But of course!” Esme replied with a smile. “Rowena’s older brother, Roderick. Anyone in Wirksworth who went to the Festival Comedy Club would know him well."
“I remember a Roderick…wasn’t it Roderick Russell?”
“Yes, that’s him. We are both Russells”, said Rowena with pride.
“And if it was he who played the part of Jack, he’d be a Jack Russell”, mused Virginia who knew a lot about animals.
“I say, Keith”, piped up Mandy, spotting a hidden talent. “Why doesn’t Virginia play the role of Mrs Trott. I think she would be good at it.”
“Traditionally it is played by a man, you know that Mandy.”
“Well, why don’t we break with tradition for once?” asked Edgar. “It wouldn’t take much to dress her up to look eccentric…I say go for it Keith.”
Erica Boulton
28-12-08, 01:16 PM
Virginia clapped her hands in glee. “Oh, I’d love to play Jack’s mother. My friends say I’ve a natural maternal instinct, and you’ve never given me the chance to play a comic role and… and I just know I could do it.”
Reluctantly, Keith had to admit that Virginia’s appearance was right for the part. She looked like a man in drag anyway and he could visualise her wearing a wig, large horn-rimmed spectacles and an enormous brightly coloured pinafore. Even her turban would be an asset once they’d cleaned it up and perhaps added a decoration or two.
“Okay. Read through the lines and let’s hear you”, relented Keith.
Virginia stood up, towering over Rowena, and in an exaggerated croaking voice, she began, “I’m here, my little honey bunch. Oh Jack, what a fine day it is....and look at all those beautiful people sitting out there. Why are they here? Have they nothing better to do? Now Jack, my little honey and peanut butter bunch, as times are hard ‘cos of the credit crunch, I want you to go to the cattle market for me and sell our darling Clarabelle.”
“I notice you added some innovations of your own,” Keith said, “but in spite of that, the role of Mrs Trott is yours! No, no Virginia you don’t have to hug me. You read it well. Right, now can we get moving. We’ve wasted so much time on casting this damned pantomime.”
The next hour went by fairly smoothly, with the first act taking shape. The break took a little longer than Keith had planned because Esme had produced a second hamper full of delicious food. Just as they were about to resume the rehearsal, a tall, gaunt man walked in. He was dressed in a black velvet suit and matching trilby and around his neck he wore a vivid orange cravat. He carried a roll of music score under his arm.
“Ah Maurice, how nice to see you!” said Keith, holding out his hand only to be taken aback by the kisses it received.
“I was passing by so I thought I’d call in and see how the rehearsals were getting along. I see we have some new cast.”
Keith politely introduced Esme and Rowena to Maurice. Maurice looked quizzically at Esme.
“Haven’t we met before, Dr Pemberton? Your face is very familiar.”
“Yes, I seem to recognise you too Mr du Bec, but I can’t think where or when. It might come to me later. Meanwhile, do please call me Esme.”
“Likewise, please call me Maurice.”
After the others had left at the end of the rehearsal, Maurice held back to have a word with Keith. He made out he wanted to discuss some issues regarding the score for the pantomime, but in actual fact he had another more urgent matter he needed to discuss.
“Keith, I don’t want to interfere…but do you know anything about this Dr Pemberton woman? Why I ask is that I suddenly recalled where we had met.”
“Go on Maurice, I’m listening. Here, have a glass of water…you look as if you are going to faint! I’ll hold the glass. There, there, take a small sip at a time and let me loosen your cravat. Feeling better?”
“Yes. Yes, thank you Keith. It’s been a shock….I don’t know how I can tell you..or where to begin.”
“Why not at the beginning. Take it slowly now.”
Maurice explained how for years he had visited Strangeways in Manchester to conduct a prison warders’ choir. Both male and female inmates were choristers.
Just three months before he moved to Derbyshire, a new prisoner asked for an audition. As Maurice had no intention of keeping the choir going after he left Manchester and hadn’t yet given in his resignation, he thought it was unfair to take on a new recruit.
“I was only thinking of her. If there had been someone to replace me then it would have been another matter. So I declined to audition her.”
“And what happened?”
Maurice took a deep breath before he replied. “You may not believe this…”
“Am I right in thinking this Strangeways prisoner and Esme Pemberton were the same person?” Maurice nodded feebly. “In that case, I’d believe anything. Go on…”
“She turned up at the next rehearsal! I was flabbergasted to see her…and what could I say? I didn’t even know whether she could sing or not and I hadn’t a clue where to place her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I didn’t know whether she was an alto, tenor or a soprano.”
“So what did you do?”
“Well, that’s just it. I didn’t have to do anything because as soon as she arrived she grabbed the baton from my hand and stood in front of the choir and announced she was taking over as conductor. Before anyone could say anything she had tapped her metronome, given them a note and there they all were singing Rule Britannia like I’ve never heard them sing before. She was like a…I don’t know how to describe her.”
Erica Boulton
03-01-09, 11:14 AM
“A witch perhaps?”
“Yes! That’s it. How clever of you Keith. It was as if she had bewitched them all. Of course, I found it so humiliating that I handed in my resignation there and then. It was so many years ago, that I have managed to put it out of my mind until tonight. All I can say Keith, is make sure she doesn’t pull the wool over your eyes too.”
“Too late, Maurice. I’m afraid she already has”, said Keith. “Although I have to admit she packs a good hamper of food and…what’s more she has provided us with a superb actor to play the leading role of Jack. But, I can assure you, I am well aware she can be dangerous and I’m on the look-out all the time. Do you know what crime she had committed and why she was in prison?”
“GBH. Grievous Bodily Harm…I don’t know the details, but apparently she was given five years. She was about 30 at the time, so I reckon she must be well into her forties now.”
“GBH eh? Well, we had better be vigilant. Would you mind if I confided in Edgar? I ask this because he has…what would you call them…connections.”
“Connections? What sort?”
“Influential. Edgar knows a lot of people...old boy network…you know the sort of thing. It may be that they could produce a bouncer to protect us. He could join the cast. Virginia is now playing the role of Mrs Trott, so maybe he could be Clarabelle’s head.”
Erica Boulton
04-01-09, 12:56 PM
During the following fortnight, rehearsals ran smoothly; possibly due to the absence of Esme who had sent her apologies. Meanwhile, Edgar had turned up trumps bringing with him a close friend; a retired private detective and he happily responded to playing the head of Clarabelle, comfortable in the knowledge that Edgar was positioned at the rear.
The cast had now learned their parts and were now acting without the aid of a script. Virginia continued to ad lib a few of her lines that amused the others and gave Keith confidence he had made the right choice. Rowena’s Jack was admirable and together with Mandy they made a very nice-looking couple.
Tonight’s rehearsal involved the children and the chorus. Maurice du Bec arrived early and after some relaxation exercises, they sang the introduction with gusto. Their favourite choreographer was away in Japan, but a quartet of teenage girls performed a twist with vigour and a quintet of teenage boys showed what they could do with a spot of break-dancing.
Keith was almost beginning to feel hopeful that with a few extra rehearsals plus one technical and one dress rehearsal, they would be ready to meet their deadline. Opening night was just two weeks ahead.
Alas, towards the end of the rehearsal, after Maurice and the chorus had left, Keith asked the cast to watch him play Giant Nastee to see if he needed to make any adjustments. He got up from his seat and faced them. But just as he was about to deliver the famous lines, he was interrupted by the voice of Esme from the floorboards, “Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he 'live, or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread”. Within seconds, there she was towering over Keith, who looked up at her in amazement.
“Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he 'live, or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread”. Esme repeated the lines and as she did so, she grew taller and taller until her head reached the ceiling.
The rest of the cast looked on in bewilderment. Rowena began to call out, “Mother, mother come back!” but it was too late for Esme had by now burst through the roof of the building. Tiles fell around them in clouds of dust. They were all coughing and struggling to get out of the door. Once outside, they looked up into the sky. Being winter, the moon was low but they saw a flutter of birds landing on Esme’s shoulders. Still she continued to grow.
Edgar lent his detective friend a pencil who reached for a notebook and began scribbling notes into it. Virginia and Mandy held each on to each other tightly and Keith comforted the sobbing Rowena. “Was Esme really your mother?” he asked. Rowena nodded quietly.
The dust was beginning to settle around them as they stood on the pavement. Then the detective called Keith over. “May I have a word with you? I think I may be able to solve the problem.” The rest of the cast watched anxiously as Keith and the detective huddled together in conversation.
After a while, Keith called Rowena over. “Rowena I need to ask you a favour. My friend here has a theory. You know how Jack killed the giant by cutting the beanstalk? Well, we think you should kill your mother. How would you feel about that?”
Rowena looked at him in disgust. “What a stupid question, if you don’t mind me saying so! Ugh, you must be mad!”
The detective quickly rushed to Keith’s defence. “He didn’t mean that you actually kill her. It would be a pantomime-killing, don’t you see? Remember, your mother isn’t your mother…she is Giant Nastee. And, have you forgotten the axe Jack uses?”
It then occurred to Rowena what he meant. The ‘axe’ was a blunt wooden instrument that had been especially designed and made to look realistic by a well-known Wirksworth cabinet-maker.
“Do you think it would work?” Rowena asked excitedly.
“Don’t you have faith in your mother’s magic? Of course it will work! Edgar, fetch the axe!”
Edgar hurried back into the hall, opened the props cupboard, produced the axe and handed it straight over to Rowena.
“Here Jack”, he said. “Go, cut down the Giant Nastee!”
No sooner had the axe ‘sliced’ Esme’s left foot, the Warblers were astounded to see her body very slowly descend through the clouds in the sky. It was a precarious flight down because the night wind caused her body to sway to and fro. She spiralled around St Mary’s church steeple, and again around the West End chimney tops. At one stage, they all let out a scream as she almost crashed into a dormer window. It seemed an age before she reached reach doorway level but when she did, they began to chant, “Bravo, bravo!” When her feet finally touched the ground, Rowena was the first to rush over to embrace her, followed by the others.
“Rehearsal is over for tonight”, said Keith, looking at his watch. “See you all next week.”
-
A few days later, Keith received a call from Edgar. “We need to talk. It’s quite urgent. It can’t wait until the next rehearsal. Can I come round to your place this evening? And…Darrel wants to come too.”
“Darrel? Do I know him?”
“Yes, of course! Darrel, the detective. He has something to report.”
Preparing himself for the worse, Keith knocked back a large gin and tonic to steady his nerves before the arrival of Edgar and Darrel. When he opened the door to them, he couldn’t determine from their expressions whether the ‘report’ was good or bad.
The two visitors sat beside each other on the settee. “Well?” said Keith containing his impatience as much as he could. “What have you to tell me?”
“I say old sport…aren’t you going to offer us chaps a drink?” asked Edgar, looking at the bottles on the table.
Keith apologised and poured them out the drinks. As he handed them over to the men, he said again, “Well, what have you to tell me?”
“I’ll leave it to Darrel”, said Edgar.
From where Darrel had been placed within Clarabelle’s head - and through the cow’s eyes - he had not witnessed any criminal behaviour on the part of Esme. He presumed her visit to Her Majesty’s prison had taught her a lesson. Darrel went on to say he’d received verification that Esme was indeed the mother of Rowena and was highly ambitious for her daughter’s career on the stage. Furthermore he had discovered that Esme had inherited her ‘witchcraft’ qualities from her great grandfather and she had no control of it whatsoever. There had been times when she had undergone some psychological treatment, but nothing could prevent or alleviate her ‘disability’.
“She has to live with it, unfortunately. It could be that when she becomes physically infirm with old age, the chances of her ‘taking off’ may lessen. Rowena is very fond of her mother and believes that as long as she is close by she can protect her. So, all I can report is both good and bad news. Good for the Warblers, but bad for Esme.”
“So anything could happen? Do you think she might damage the performance?” asked Keith.
“No. I really don’t think so because she wouldn’t wish to upset her daughter. And remember, Rowena is playing the principal role.”
“I reckon it is going to work out OK”, said Edgar getting up and patting Keith on the back. “It could be one of the best pantomimes the Warblers have ever done.”
Erica Boulton
14-01-09, 06:02 PM
Keith scratched his head. “Do you really believe that?” he asked.
“Yes, I do. Now, if you are still happy for Darrel to be Clarabelle’s head, he is willing to continue. Is that right, Darrel?”
---
The next three rehearsals went according to plan, with the dress rehearsal turning out to be disastrous….always a good sign for any production.
Ticket sales had gone well and there was a packed house on opening night. Keith peered through the curtains to see who were sitting on the front row. In the centre, sat the Mayor of Wirksworth accompanied by his wife. There were several other town councillors, a couple of gentlemen from the press, several teachers from the infant and junior schools and two ministers representing the church. Keith gasped when he also spotted a well-known television talent-scout sitting....
cross-legged in the centre of the aisle. Also present was a theatre critic from Community Fayre who had pen and paper poised ready to attack the performances of the cast. Keith was annoyed by this. Every year the Glee Club got better reviews than Wirksworth Warblers. If only CF had sent a younger, more attractive reporter perhaps he, Keith, could have "persuaded" her to give the Warblers a more favourable review. He was of the belief that, sadly, the performance may not be up to the standard of the Glee Club and would not achieve rave reviews on merit.
"Curtains up in ten minutes" yelled Edgar from the side of the stage. "For Pity's sake man give it a rest!" replied Keith, nerves already jangling. Edgar's "Curtain's up" reminders every two minutes were not helping. Neither were the three Scotch and Sodas Keith had before he left home.
Virginia appeared centre stage and asked Mandy to check her turban one final time, to make sure it was still on straight. Beneath the turban Virginia was wearing an enormous wig of pumpkin orange - curled into large tendrils with green bows scattered here and there. Her make-up was surreal to say the least, having been applied by Edgar who himself had enjoyed several stiff drinks earlier in the day.
"The turban looks fine" said Mandy, finding it difficult to speak whilst trying not to breathe in the peculiar scents emanating from the turban itself. Being a wine buff, Mandy could identify definite whiffs of fish, chips, sweet and sour chicken, garlic mushrooms, pepperoni pizza, lamb korma and Guinness. An attempt had been made to mask these aromas with strong antiseptic spray but to no avail. Mandy spoke gently to Virgina.
"A few weeks ago I noticed - when you removed your turban at rehearsals the day Esme reappeared for the first time - well, I noticed you had only one eyebrow and no hair at all, my love. I dare not ask at the time but now I feel compelled to make sure that you are alright Virginia and have not had any health issues? I must admit I have been worrying about you."
Virgina stared at Mandy as if she had gone stark raving mad. "You silly woman!" she howled. "Do you not remember sponsoring me to have my hair shaved off for that Children's Charity in Botswana?!"
"Well, vaguely but that was ages ago".
"As may be, but I always keep my promises. I had my head shaved for the princely sum of £35.00. Just as the hairdresser had finished one of the salon staff threw a further 50p into the pot so I said 'What the hell luvvie, do an eyebrow for that!' and so she did. That's me, you see, willing to go the extra mile".
"Has it been terribly itchy, growing back?" asked Mandy amazed at what Virginia had done.
"Mmmm, but several alcoholic drinks a day and lots of talc inside the turban have worked wonders to keep the itching at bay! Oh, and I adore this wig! I may actually keep it when the show is over, for special occasions."
James Ogilvy
19-01-09, 11:18 AM
“Here comes Maurice. Almost time to begin…”, whispered Edgar.
The elegant Maurice du Bec extravagantly dressed in a black velvet suit, pink ruffled shirt and a pink carnation on his lapel swept in. With a flourish of his hand, he bowed to the audience, then sat by the piano and played the opening introduction as if it was one of Beethoven’s Piano Concertos. As he was reaching the final notes, Edgar standing in the wings hissed ““We’re on!”.
The curtains slowly opened to reveal a bright street scene filled with villagers – such as milkmaids, two farmers, a baker and his wife, and a chimney sweep. The Trott’s house was situated at the back and from the front door emerged Virginia – as a grotesque-looking Mrs Trott. She sauntered to the front of the stage and delivered her very own composition…
"Come in! Come in! Come in my dears
The Panto season's here!
We're about to tell a story
that will fill you with good cheer!
It's all about my son named Jack
As lazy as can be
But he grew a magic beanstalk
And had golden eggs for tea!
So let us get things started
Without a major fuss
We'll sing our little hearts out
Starting with our lovely chorus!”
She had altered some of the words and as he’d forgotten to warn her to change the last line from “although there’s only four of us”, Keith sighed with relief. He almost felt guilty that he hadn’t trusted her to change it. So far, so good.
Virginia drew nearer downstage and began her lines as Mrs Trott.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you wonderful Wirksworth people here this evening. Are you all well? No, don’t bother to reply. Well, who’s here tonight? Is that the head of Anthony Gell? Surely not. I thought he’d be at home marking exam papers. Ah, I can see the Mayor and…wait a minute… who’s that gorgeous bit of stuff sitting next to him? Has he left his wife at home? No, don’t bother to reply.”
Keith groaned. All this unscripted stuff could become nasty. And what’s more, he could see Rowena hovering on the other side of wings waiting for her cue-line to enter. “Come on, Virginia!”, he whispered.
“What you see before you is a very anxious woman. No, really I am. You see, my horrible landlord says I’ve got to pay this month’s rent or me and my son Jack will have to leave.”
From her apron pocket, Mrs Trott pulled out a massive handkerchief and gave her nose a large blow. She dabbed at her eyes, smudging her mascara in the process and tipping her turban to one side. At least she had remembered to give Rowena her cue.
James Ogilvy
25-01-09, 10:12 PM
Rowena entered the stage as Jack, dressed in a traditional brown and green tunic, so short it revealed her shapely thighs encased in tights. On her feet she wore leather bootees. She gave a radiant smile at the audience.
“Hello everybody! Are there any children in the house?
Silence.
“I can’t hear you. Are there any children in the house?”
Silence.
“Are there any adults in the house?”
Quick thinking, whispered Keith admiringly. There was a roar from the audience.
Ah, that’s better. Of course I should have known. The children are coming to the matinee tomorrow. Silly me. Anyway, let me introduce myself. I’m Jack Trott and I live in this house with my mother and Clarabelle our darling cow. But…but Mother seems upset.”
Rowena walked over to Virginia, who was still sobbing in her handkerchief.
“Mother, I can’t bear to see you crying. Whatever is the matter?”
The audience was responding well. He wondered if the talent scout had spotted the star potential of Rowena. Too early to say, Keith felt, still expecting something awful was yet to happen.
Erica Boulton
27-01-09, 10:58 AM
“Mother, I can’t bear to see you crying. Whatever is the matter? You can tell me…I’m your son, Jack.”
Keith pricked up his ears. Why had Rowena repeated the line? Virginia was supposed to have answered by now. He peered through the wings on to the stage. Virginia was with her head bent was still crying into her handkerchief. She did not respond.
Rowena spoke directly to the audience. “I don’t know what’s happened to Mother. She’s never as quiet as this. Do you think there is something wrong? Mother, can you hear me?”
“Bravo!”, thought Keith. Rowena was ad-libbing beautifully, but something needed to be done. Just then, Virginia looked up from her handkerchief. It was full of blood….
To her astonishment, Rowena could see that Virginia had been mopping her cheek with the handkerchief. But the blood was running down from her turban that had been dislodged by the wig, revealing a deep gash on the top of Virginia's bald head. She looked dreadful.
"Quick!" shouted Keith to Edgar. Get the curtains down and call an ambulance!"
As the curtains began to close, Rowena took a step in front and announced to the audience...
"Ladies and gentlemen. As you can see, Mrs Trott has had an accident. We've called for an ambulance. There will be a short halt until we can proceed. Please keep your seats until the next announcement. Thank you."
James Ogilvy
30-01-09, 09:23 AM
For the next half hour there was pandemonium back stage. Virginia was in hysterics and Keith had another of his “we are doomed” wailing sessions. Edgar decided it would be best to confirm to the audience that indeed the panto could not continue that night. People left the hall very disgruntled; some angrily demanding their money back.
When the ambulance finally arrived, Virginia was taken to hospital for treatment. It transpired that the green bows in her wig had sharp pins attached that should have been removed before wearing. With the weight of the turban, they had jabbed into her head and caused several deep gashes that required stitches and an overnight stay. Mandy offered to stay with Virginia until she dropped off to sleep.
Although Rowena had given the impression of being cool, calm and collected, she was trembling all over with shock. Edgar arranged for a taxi to take Esme and her daughter home and he stayed behind with Keith until they decided what to do.
Darrel, the detective suggested they went to a pub and after switching off the lights, tidying up and locking the doors, the three men did precisely that.
Sitting in the comfort of The Red Lion, they..
Erica Boulton
03-02-09, 06:10 PM
made an attempt to relax. Edgar and Darrel deliberately steered clear from discussing the events of the evening. “They say it’s going to be very cold this week…the forecasters, that is”, attempted Darrel. “Yes”, replied Edgar. “There may be some snow on the way”, continued Darrel. “Yes, possibly”, replied Edgar.
“Will the pair of you shut up!” interrupted Keith. “What the hell does it matter whether we have snow or sunshine? Who the hell cares! The truth is…Wirksworth Warblers are doomed. We are all doomed.”
“Another brandy, please” said Darrel handing out some money to the barman who was collecting the glasses from the table. When it arrived, Darrel gave it to Keith. “Here, have another of these, Keith. We’re not doomed; we’ve just got to plan our strategy!”
“Our strategy? Are you mad? Do you really think Jack and the Beanstalk will survive after this dreadful first night?”
"You're not thinking of giving up, surely?" asked Darrel. "You have the matinee tomorrow - the kids are looking forward to it."
"Exactly", agreed Edgar. "You can't let them down. Now, all we need is for Virginia to make a quick recovery. And, failing that, we'll either get Esme to play the part, using her witch-like powers or...I'll play Mrs Trott. You see? We can do it!"
Edgar, in his enthusiasm began singing at the top of his voice, "There's no business like show business", much to the alarm of everybody sitting in the pub.
Erica Boulton
14-02-09, 07:32 PM
“It’s okay, don’t panic”, said the landlord. “It’s only the Warblers! They get carried away with themselves sometimes. But they are harmless.”
Darrel returned to the matter in hand, saying “Should Virginia recover for the evening performance, then all will be well. Keith, you’ve nothing to worry about. Do you want another?”
“He’s had four…I don’t think it’s advisable. Anyway, the chap’s gone and dropped off to sleep. Can you grab one arm and I’ll take the other. The sooner we get him home the better!”
Next morning, Keith was woken up by a loud knock on his front door. Suffering somewhat from a hangover, he struggled out of bed, grabbed his dressing gown and went downstairs. Several more knocks indicated that the caller was getting impatient.
To his surprise, he found Esme and Rowan standing outside....
James Ogilvy
15-02-09, 09:52 AM
From the look on their faces he could see that they had some bad news to deliver.
“Come in. If you don’t mind, I’d like to quickly get dressed. Take a seat and I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Keith rushed upstairs, quickly brushed his teeth and splashed some water on his face. He then put on a pair of tracksuit trousers over his boxers and pulled a sweater over his head. With trepidation, he returned to the women downstairs.
He found Rowan sitting alone on an armchair. She looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, but…er Mum’s had to leave.”
Keith reckoned it was a polite way of saying that Esme had done another disappearing act. So as not to further embarrass her, he replied “That’s OK. I understand. Can I get you a coffee?”
“No thanks. We’ve just come back from seeing Virginia in the hospital. She is in a bad way. The pins in the wig turban were toxic…or something like that…and they have caused quite a lot of damage. They say she will have to remain in hospital for another week or so. I’m sorry, Keith to give you this bad news. Will you have to cancel the panto?”
Erica Boulton
21-02-09, 03:48 PM
Having taken notice of the comforting remarks made by Edgar and Darrel the night before, Keith replied with a vehement “No!”
Rowan was taken aback at his response. She felt certain Keith would give another rendering of “We are doomed! Wirksworth Warblers are doomed!” But no.
“We will find a way”, said Keith. “After all we are in show business and the show must go on! Also, we have a matinee this afternoon.”
“But who will play Virginia’s part?” asked Rowan.
“Why me, of course”, said Esme who had, to the astonishment of Rowan and Keith, miraculously descended from the ceiling and was now sitting cross-legged on the floor. “I know all the words, all the actions and all the songs. What better understudy could a panto have?”
“You are quite right”, said Keith clapping his hands gleefully. “The Warblers will not be defeated!”
The end, or just the beginning….
Wirksworth Warblers presents its panto for 2009 - Jack and the Beanstalk - all welcome!
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