15 grand meeting

a grand meeting was called to discuss the pantomime, the casting of the characters, and the times of rehearsal. darrell had finished her writing, and irene had completed the music. everything was ready for rehearsal.

all the fifth-formers attended the meeting in the north tower common-room. it was very crowded. a fire burned in the big fire-place, for it was now october and the nights were cold.

moira was in the chair. catherine—rather a quiet and sulky catherine, not quite so free with her beaming smile—was at her left hand, ready to provide her with anything she wanted. the committee sat on chairs on each side of the table.

moira banged on the table with a book, and shouted for silence. she got it. people always automatically obeyed moira! she had that kind of voice, crisp and curt.

the meeting began. darrell was called upon to explain the pantomime and the characters in it. she was also asked to read the first act.

very flushed and excited she gave the listening fifth-formers a short summary of the pantomime. they listened with much approval. it sounded very good.

then, stammering a little at first, darrell read the first act of the pantomime, just as she had written it, dialogue, songs, stage directions and everything. there was a deep silence as she read on.

“that’s the end of the act,” she said at last, raising her eyes half-shyly, not absolutely certain if she had carried her listeners with her or not.

there was no doubt about that a second later. the girls stamped and clapped and cheered. darrell was so pleased that she felt hot with joy, and had to wipe her forehead dry.

moira banged for silence.

“well, you’ve all heard what a jolly good play darrell and sally have got together,” she said. “darrell did most of it—but sally was splendid too. you can tell it will bring the house down if we can produce it properly.”

“who’s going to produce it?” called betty.

“i am,” said moira, promptly. “any objections?”

there were quite a lot of doubtful faces. nobody really doubted moira’s ability to produce a pantomime—but they did doubt her talent for getting the best out of people. she rubbed them up the wrong way so much.

“i think it would be better to have two producers,” said somebody.

“right,” said moira, promptly. she didn’t mind how many there were so long as she was one of them. she meant to be the real producer, anyway. “who do you want?”

“betty, betty!” shrieked half the fifth-formers. it was obviously planned. moira frowned a little. betty! alicia’s laughing, careless, clever friend.

“yes—let betty,” said alicia, suddenly. she felt that she wouldn’t be able to work happily with moira alone for long. but two producers would be easier. she could consult with betty all the time!

betty grinned round and took her place on one of the committee chairs. “thanks,” she said. “i’ll produce the goods all right!”

“now to choose the characters,” said moira. “we have more or less worked them out. i’ll read them.”

gwendoline and maureen held their breath. was there any hope of being cinderella? or even the fairy-godmother? or the prince?

moira read the list out.

“cinderella—mary-lou.”

there was a gasp from mary-lou, gwen and maureen—of amazement from mary-lou and disappointment from the others.

“oh—i can’t!” said mary-lou.

“you can,” said darrell. “we want someone sort of pathetic-looking—a bit scary—someone appealing and big-eyed—and it has to be someone who can act and someone who can sing.”

“and you’re exactly right for the part,” said sally. “that’s right—make your eyes big and scared, mary-lou—you’re poor little cinderella to the life!”

everyone laughed. mary-lou had to laugh, too. her eyes began to shine. “i never thought you’d choose me,” she said.

“well, we have,” said darrell. “you can act very well and you’ve a nice singing voice, though it’s not very loud.”

“the prince—mavis,” said moira. everyone knew that already. the prince had a lot of singing to do and mavis would do that wonderfully well. her voice was beautiful again, and irene had written some lovely tunes for her to sing to darrell’s words. everyone clapped.

“the baron—bill,” said moira, and there was a delighted laugh.

“oh yes! bill stamping about in riding-breeches, calling for her horse!” cried clarissa in delight.

“fairy-godmother—louella,” said moira. everyone looked at louella who came from south tower, and had a tall, slim figure, golden curls and a good clear voice.

“hurray!” shouted all the south tower girls, glad to have someone from their tower in a good part.

“buttons—the little boots—rachel,” went on moira. “rachel can act jolly well and she’s had the same part before, so she ought to do it well.”

“who are the ugly sisters?” called a voice.

gwen’s heart suddenly gave a lurch and sank down into her shoes. ugly sisters! suppose she had been chosen to be one? she couldn’t, couldn’t bear it. she saw alicia gazing at her maliciously and felt sure she had been chosen.

she simply couldn’t bear it. she got up, saying she didn’t feel very well, and went towards the door. alicia smiled. she could read gwen’s thoughts extremely well. gwen was going because she was afraid her name would be read out next as one of the ugly sisters.

“your heart worrying you again?” called one of the west tower girls to gwen, and everyone laughed. gwen disappeared. she made up her mind not to go back till the meeting was over.

maureen was also worried about the same thing. she thought about her rabbit-teeth. moira might think she was made for an ugly sister. why, oh why hadn’t she been sensible and had her teeth straightened when she had a chance? she drew her upper lip over them to try and hide them.

“ugly sisters—pat and rita!” said moira, and there was an instant roar of approval from the girls.

pat and rita looked round humorously. they were twins, and certainly not ugly—but they had upturned comical noses, eyes very wide-set and hair that flew out in a shock. they were comical, good at acting, and would make a splendid pair of ugly sisters.

“thanks, moira!” called out rita. “that suits us down to the ground—right down to our big ugly feet!”

“demon king—alicia!” said moira, and again there was a great roar of approval, led by a delighted betty.

moira beamed round, looking quite pleasant. “alicia’s going to do juggling and conjuring as well as leap about the stage like a demon,” she said. “i can’t think of anyone else who could be a demon so successfully.”

more shrieks of approval. miss james, not far off, wondered what in the world was happening. it sounded as if about fifty thousand spectators at a football match were yelling themselves hoarse.

“jolly good casting!” called somebody. “go on!”

“well, now we come to the servants and courtiers and so on,” said moira. “that means the rest of you. there’s a part for everyone, even though it may be small.”

“what about darrell?” called a voice.

“darrell’s written the play and will help in the producing,” said moira. “sally will help her too. they won’t be in it because their hands will be full. we’re going to ask pop if he’ll do the electricity part—he’ll love it.”

pop was the handyman of the school, very much beloved, and quite invaluable on these occasions.

“it all sounds jolly good,” said winnie. “when are the rehearsals?”

“every tuesday evening, and on friday evenings too for those who want an extra one,” said moira. “and the parts will be sent out to everyone tomorrow. for goodness’ sake learn them as quickly as you can. it’s hopeless to keep reading them when we rehearse—you can’t act properly like that.”

“you forgot to say that irene’s done the music and belinda the decorations and janet’s doing the costumes,” said darrell.

“no, i hadn’t,” said moira, quickly. “i was coming to that. anyway, everyone knows it. by the way, we’ll be glad of any help for janet in making the costumes. anyone good with their needle will be welcomed. janet will give out the work if you’ll be decent enough to ask her for it.”

more clapping. then a spate of excited talk. this was going to be the best pantomime ever! it would make the whole school sit up! it would bring the house down.

“there’s never been a show before where the girls wrote the songs and words and music themselves,” said winnie. “my word—won’t the grayling open her eyes!”

a bell went somewhere and everyone got up. “we’ll be at rehearsal! we’ll learn our parts! mavis, what about the singing? are you going to train the chorus?”

chattering and calling they all went to their own towers. darrell sighed happily and put her arm through sally’s.

“this is about the most exciting thing i’ve ever done in my life, sally,” she said. “you know—i shouldn’t be surprised if i don’t turn out to be a writer, one of these days!”