A newly-familiar voice said, "A little tipple for our first meeting. Excellent idea." Before I could stop Miles Thompson, he’d grasped the flask which Alice had foolishly left sitting out beside the coffee urn and took a swig.

  “No, wait,” I said, but it was too late.

  As he swallowed, his face twisted as though he’d sipped drain cleaner. He made a gagging motion. "That is without doubt the worst swill I have ever tasted."

  I stood in horror not knowing what to do as his equally posh friend who was to play Demetrius came up and said, "What's this? Your private vintage?"

  With a wink at me, Miles said, “Yeah. Help yourself.”

  I reached out, desperate to get the flask, but Jeremy laughed and turned his back saying, “Your turn next.” And he too took a sip. Like his friend he grimaced and gagged. "My God that's awful.” He glared at Miles. “Did you bring this?"

  He shook his head. "No. It was that girl over there." And he indicated Alice.

  Unaware that her potion had fallen into the wrong hands, Alice was still fussing over Charlie trying to get him to take a sip of his coffee. I rushed over to her. "Alice, you've got to get your flask back. Those boys have it."

  She glanced back at me and then followed my gaze to where Miles and Jeremy were walking around with her potion. Her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh no. What do I do?"

  I had no idea. I'd never been in a situation like this before. I said, "You'd better get it back. And quickly."

  “But Charlie might drink the potion and look at someone else.”

  “That can’t be helped. Anyway, he’s back to reading the script. I think he’s forgotten his coffee. Leave it while you sort out the flask.”

  She went rushing off and I'd have gone to help her except I glanced up and saw Detective Inspector Ian Chisholm walk through the doorway. If he had tracked me down here to tell me he couldn't make our date tonight, I was going to be seriously unhappy. But, when he saw me, his face lit up. It was clear he hadn't known I would be here.

  I walked forward and said, "Ian. Are you helping out with A Midsummer Night's Dream?"

  He shook his head. "Fraid not. I'm here on official business."

  Ian glanced around the room and I thought he'd found the person he'd come in search of. But, before he could take a step forward, a kind of quiver went through the room. I glanced up and there, on the stage, was Ellen Barrymore. In person.

  “I can’t believe I’ll be in the same room with Ellen Barrymore,” I said softly to Ian. I’m a fangirl.

  The director clapped her hands and said in a powerful voice, "Welcome, everyone. Please find a seat and we’ll begin."

  Everyone shuffled around into chairs. I saw Alice arguing with the two young men who seemed like they were having great sport in keeping the flask out of her reach.

  I turned to Charlie to see if at least he’d taken a sip of his doctored coffee, and yet a new horror met my eyes. Scarlett Baker, the very pretty young actor who was to play Hermia, walked up to Charlie. She said something that made him look up. I wasn't completely sure how that potion worked but I thought it would be best if Alice was the first person Charlie set eyes on after he had sipped that coffee, not the all-too-attractive Scarlett.

  “Excuse me,” I said to Ian, already moving to head off the latest disaster.

  Ian said, "Don't mind me. I'll get myself a cup of coffee and hang about in the back until your meeting is over." I nodded, barely paying any attention to him as I was so anxious to get between Charlie and Scarlett. I waved to get Alice's attention but she was pleading with the boys to return her potion.

  One horror at a time. I headed toward Charlie and Scarlett in time to hear the young woman say, "Lovely. Coffee. I haven't had any today." Before my horrified gaze, she lifted his mug to her mouth and took the most provocative sip of coffee I have ever seen any person take.

  "No!" I shrieked. They both turned to stare at me. I scrambled for a reason as to why I had cried out. Several people nearby had stopped to stare at me. Including Polly who walked over to Scarlett as though to protect her.

  I said, "It's flu season. We shouldn't be sharing cups or we’ll spread germs." I sounded more motherly than Alice, and Charlie, obviously rather flattered at Scarlett’s attention, grinned. For a guy who spent so much of his time with his nose stuck in a book he was awfully attractive when he looked up and smiled at a woman.

  He said, giving Scarlett a sideways glance and Polly a wink, "I'll take my chances with a germ or two." He took the mug from her hands and, very deliberately, put his mouth where hers had been and took a sip.

  Weirdly, she didn't pay any attention to him. Scarlett was staring at me as though we were long-lost sisters who’d just reunited. She stepped forward and pushed her hair behind her ear with a nervous hand. "I don't think we've been introduced?"

  "I'm Lucy. I'm helping with set painting."

  She drew in a quick breath. "I do hope you can help me. She ran her hands down the side of her very trim figure. "You see, I'm so tall. I want to be certain that you design the sets in the magical forest so they don’t make me look like I’m one of the trees."

  I had something else to think about but these actors’ vanity, what with Alice scampering around after that flask and all the people who seemed to be drinking that potion. I wished it was alcohol in that flask. I'd have taken a big hit myself.

  Once more, the director called for everyone to take their seats. I'd had enough of the two actors teasing Alice over that potion. She needed to get over to Charlie and quickly. The two actors were all over her, teasing and flattering her, but she was almost tearful in her pleas for them to give her back her flask. I was about to tell them both off when the blond one, Jeremy, looking very sheepish passed her the flask.

  It was empty.

  Chapter 7

  She let out a shriek. "What happened to the p—the drink that was in there?"

  Oh please, please let them have spilled the potion all over the floor. Instead, they fell to giggling. "Share and share alike," Miles said and snorted and pointed. I followed his gaze to the coffee urn. Oh, no. They couldn't have.

  I looked at all the people currently drinking coffee and wondered how many of them had filled their cups after those wretched fools had tipped the rest of the potion into the coffee urn. To my horror, I saw Ian sip out of a mug. He was looking at Scarlett, his eyes obviously drawn by her vivacity and quick movements.

  She seemed to be looking for someone and then she saw the group of us, Miles and Jeremy, beside Alice and me. She came over with her quick step but instead of sitting beside the boys, she took the empty seat beside me. She leaned closer. "Lucy, I must get your mobile number."

  She was really serious about this set business. I explained that I was only an assistant painter but she shook her head and pushed her phone at me. With a helpless shrug I put my mobile number into her phone and then immediately my phone buzzed.

  She said, "I sent you a text so you’d have my number, too." She gazed at me anxiously. “You will call me?”

  I was about to tell Scarlett that she should talk to Theodore, but at that moment Ellen Barrymore got up on stage and clapped her hands. She stood very still for a moment and her very stillness captured all the attention in the room. Ellen Barrymore was forty-four years old. I knew this because I had done an Internet search on her before I came. I felt a little flutter of excitement just being in her presence.

  She was a classic beauty who wore her dark brown hair long and very straight. She was wearing a red woolen dress that was somehow both commanding and sexy. With that she wore black stockings and black pumps. A long gold chain hung from her neck and chunky gold earrings flashed at her ears. She looked every inch the diva.

  Hush fell immediately over the cast and crew and we sat, waiting. Ellen Barrymore was known for her intelligent acting, her graceful walk, but most of all for her voice. It was low-pitched and slightly husky. We were treated to it now. "Thank you all very much for coming out today. Some of you are students, here to gain acting experience and school credit, and some of you are volunteers from the community. I want to personally thank each and every one of you for your commitment. The parts are already cast and the actors and understudies will remain here with me.”

  Chairs began to scrape and papers to rustle.

  “Stage hands, builders, set designers and painters and costumers will each be directed to your rooms by the lady in the back with the clipboard. She is Alex Blumstein and she will be indispensable to all of you, as she is to me."

  There was a slight creaking and shuffling noise as most of us turned to look at the woman standing in back. She didn't look as though she wanted to be indispensable to anyone. She looked as though her feet were in shoes a size or two too small. She was on the short side and stocky and she held her clipboard as though she might bash you over the head with it as soon as write something on it.

  Beside me, Scarlett leaned closer. "She's an absolute dragon. Don't get on the wrong side of Alex Blumstein whatever you do."

  I whispered back, "Thanks for the tip."

  The director went on, "As this will be my last season and my last play with the college, I am determined that this will be our best production yet." She smiled her glorious smile at us. "I have my professional pride after all. Fortunately, I am aided by some of the best talent I have ever worked with. And, as many of you know, I have worked with the best.”

  She paused for the appreciative laughter that ran through the room. “I predict that within a decade some of you will become household names and celebrities. And every one of us today will be a part of that success, whether we stitched a costume, helped create the magical forest through lighting and sets, or simply made coffee."

  At the word coffee I felt my insides shudder.

  "And so, as we like to say in the business, let's go break a leg."

  I could have listened to that wonderful voice forever, but everyone in the room was clapping and some of the students who knew her were whistling and cat-calling. I joined in the applause, hoping that the potion I had had a hand in creating didn't make trouble right at the beginning of this production. I felt as guilty as though I had shouted out “Macbeth” to a bunch of superstitious actors.

  I was sad to hear that Ellen Barrymore was leaving. I had enjoyed a momentary fantasy where she might discover a passion for knitting and drop by my shop from time to time. I liked the idea of even working on the same street as someone whose talent I admired so much. I turned to Scarlett, "Is Ellen Barrymore really leaving?"

  "Oh yes. We’re all devastated. Well, not too devastated, because she's going to be the artistic director of the Neptune Theatre in London. We’re all hoping that she will hire us.” She glanced around and then dropped her voice to a whisper. “Naturally, she can't say anything, but she's let Miles and Jeremy and me know that she’ll keep an eye out for places for us."

  "That's fantastic," I said. I didn't know much about the acting business but everyone talked about lucky breaks and it seemed to me that these gorgeous young people were about to get theirs. Not that nature hadn't already given them plenty of lucky breaks. Simply being bright and well educated enough to get into Oxford was a huge break, but to also be beautiful and theatrically talented seemed like an extra heaping of good luck.

  I pictured myself one day telling my friends how I had painted the green on a tree in front of which the famous actors Miles Thompson, Jeremy Booth and Scarlett Baker had performed. It was as close to fame as I was likely to get.

  "Well, good luck on the first day. I'd better find out from the dragon lady where I'm supposed to go."

  As I looked around for Theodore I noticed he was with a student in jeans and a hoodie who seemed to be hanging on his every word. She looked as though she were meeting her idol. Then I noticed the coffee cup in her hands. Oh, dear. She motioned a friend over and the three of them began looking through Theodore’s sketch book.

  I stood up and nearly bumped into Ian, who'd come right up to us. But he wasn't looking at me, his attention was on Scarlett.

  "Excuse me," he said. "I'm Detective Inspector Ian Chisholm. I wonder if I might ask you a few questions?" When Scarlett looked at him his cheeks and neck went a ruddy color. I hoped he wasn't coming down with something.

  Scarlett looked quite pleased. "A detective inspector? How exciting. How can I help you?"

  His color darkened and I realized the man was blushing. He cleared his throat and pulled out the same picture I'd seen on the missing person’s poster at the bookshop. He asked, "Do you know this woman?"

  Scarlett glanced at the photograph. "Of course I do. She's Sofia. I take a drama class with her. I’m sorry to say she’s not very good.” She shrugged theatrically. "I suppose one shouldn't really say that when the poor girl’s missing. Have they found her yet?"

  Ian shook his head. "We know she spent some time here on the day she disappeared."

  "At the college? Well, of course, this is where she goes to school."

  "No. Here, in the theater wing the day before yesterday. Did you see her?"

  Scarlett wrinkled her nose. "We were all in and out that day. Ellen had posted the parts so I imagine everyone who auditioned popped in. I don't think Sofia got chosen for anything much." Then she gasped. "You don't think that's linked to her disappearance do you? Could she have been so distraught that she—" Then she shook her head. "No. That's ridiculous. Sofia wouldn’t—"

  "But you didn't actually see her that day?"

  "No. I don't think so."

  He pulled out another photo, this one looked to be a printout from a CCTV camera. It showed a guy who looked like a student, cute with dark shaggy hair and a slightly disreputable air about him. “What about this man? Do you know him?”

  She only glanced at the photo and then nodded. “Of course, I do. That’s Will.” She glanced around. “He should be around here, somewhere.”

  “Does Will have a surname?”

  “Course he does. William Matthews. He’s playing one of the rustics.”

  “Was Sofia seeing him, do you know?”

  “No, I don’t know. Ellen doesn’t like her actors dating, says it messes with the production, so anyone who’s involved with somebody else in the group keeps it secret.”

  He gave her one of his business cards. "Well, if you think of anything, anything at all that might help, please don't hesitate to call me. Any time."

  She glanced at the card and back at Ian. “Try Miles.”

  Ian kept his gaze steady on her face. “Who’s Miles?”

  “The one over there who’s completely in love with himself.”

  We both looked over. The two who’d been larking with the flask stood together. One dark, one fair, both looked to be in love with themselves. Scarlett obviously realized she had to be more specific. “The dark one.”

  “And why would he know?”

  She let out a breath. “I think he and Sofia were friends. Are friends. I think she fancied him.”

  “I thought you all kept your romantic feelings secret?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “As I told you, Sofia isn’t much of an actress. You could see it in the way she looked at Miles, touched him when she thought no one was looking.”

  A guy about my own age strode toward us. He had to be an actor. He had dark, wavy hair that any woman would kill for because it fell in such perfect waves away from his face. He was rather pale, with intense green eyes and a slightly scruffy beard.

  Tall and thin, he vibrated with energy. I bet he could eat anything he wanted and never gain an ounce. He wore disreputable looking jeans, a red flannel shirt that looked as though he’d slept in it and he carried a small backpack over one shoulder.

  I thought he was the one from the CCTV photo Ian had just showed us. He glanced at me and Ian and then said to Scarlett, “I’ve just arrived, what did I miss?”

  She rose and went towards him. “Darling Will. Hopelessly late as usual.”

  They double cheek kissed, French style, and Will said, “Darling Scarlett, hopelessly gorgeous as usual.”

  She took his hand and turned him towards us. “This is William Matthews. He’s the one in your photo. Will is playing Snug the Joiner. Though he’d really hoped to play Lysander.”

  Will might dress casually and show up late as though he didn’t have a care in the world but his jaw set hard at her words and I thought he had really wanted that part. Perhaps his showing up late and slovenly was a kind of protest.

  Ian, meanwhile, looked at him keenly. He asked, “You’re William Matthews?”

  Will nodded. “That’s right. Who’s asking?”

  Scarlett said, “Oh, it’s terribly exciting. This is the police. They’re asking about Sofia. She’s still missing.”

  Will swallowed. “The police?”

  “Yes. Detective Inspector Ian Chisholm.” This time he gave his name in a way that sounded almost like a threat. “Do you know Sofia Bazzano?”

  “Of course. We all do. She’s one of the actors.”

  “When did you last see her?” Ian didn’t mention the photo. He wanted to see if Will would entrap himself.

  Will looked very much as though he wished he hadn’t arrived quite so soon. “I saw Sofia the day before yesterday.”

  “The day she disappeared.”

  “Yes. I suppose so.”

  “Where did you see her?”

  Will slipped his backpack off his shoulder and placed it on one of the chairs, which gave him a chance to turn away from Ian’s questioning gaze. When he turned back he said, “Here. We’d all come in throughout the afternoon to find out what parts we’d been given in the play. I bumped into her.”

  Ian waited. In fact, we all waited. Finally, Will said, “She was upset. She didn’t get the part she wanted. Well, neither did I.” He hesitated and then said, “I took her down to the pub and bought her a pint.”

  I found I’d been holding my breath and when Will admitted he’d been in the pub with Sofia I felt my lungs begin to work again. That was likely where the CCTV photo had come from.

 

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