8 Quid Pro Quo

8

Quid Pro Quo

When we get back to Silverberry Hall, it takes a while to unload the treasure trove and Oliver is equally as enthused as I am about the haul.

‘This stuff is much too good to throw away,’ he remarks, as we carry one of the carts across the car park. The two metal-framed wheels piled inside of it are rusty, but they aren’t buckled.

‘I feel the same way. I don’t care if I can’t get the wheels to go round, but with a bit of tender loving care these are going to look amazing when they’re restored.’

It’s obvious he has something on his mind because he keeps giving me nervous glances, but I hold my tongue as we tread back and forth. I assume he’ll broach whatever it is when he’s ready.

With everything safely stowed away in the old stable block, it’s a satisfying feeling.

‘Do you fancy a coffee?’ I ask and his eyes light up.

‘Doesn’t Elizabeth have a thing on up at the Hall, today? She mentioned something about some sort of tea party?’

‘Oh, yes. The lunch club she’s a member of are getting together to determine the dates and venues for next year. Hmm … I don’t really want to get pulled into the preparations. How about we head over to my cottage, instead?’ With a bit of luck, because I’m busy, Grandma will take notes when the ladies arrive late afternoon.

‘I’m fine with that, if it’s not too much trouble.’

We stop to dust ourselves off a little and that sparks an outburst of laughter. ‘With old stuff comes dust and debris,’ I apologise. However, as Oliver has demonstrated already, he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. ‘But not for long. I have plans for this little lot.’

As we start walking he mutters, ‘Hmm,’ and I glance at him. ‘I was rather hoping to talk you into donating a couple of things, temporarily of course, as props for the play. We can discuss that later.’ He gives me a cheeky wink.

I do a running commentary as we walk, pointing out what I think of as things of interest. This time around he’s much more amenable than he was on that first little trek from the pub to Silverberry Hall.

It isn’t until we’re settled down at the scrubbed pine table in my kitchen, that I quiz him.

‘You think you can use some of the bits we brought back from the farm?’

He looks very comfortable sitting there, as I carry the two mugs of coffee over.

‘I do. Items with wear and tear lend an authenticity that can be difficult to recreate. Because it’s a partial set I’m building, every component needs to add something to the overall effect.’

I frown at him. ‘Yes, I suppose that’s important to take the audience back in time.’

‘Less is more sometimes, but if it’s all made out of modern materials, which the centrepiece will be, whatever else is on that stage has to add the feels . This is the bit where I’ll struggle and with Daniela’s focus elsewhere—’

‘Why? You design sets all the time.’

‘On a PC, with sophisticated and versatile software. Other people turn my designs into reality these days.’

He clasps his hands around the mug in front of him, even though it’s lovely and warm in here.

‘When we get back, perhaps we can put our heads together and see what we can come up with.’

His smile is genuine. ‘Thanks, I’d really appreciate that. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.’

I can see that.

‘I do have another problem. Listening to Daniela talking about this new project of hers, I might need a stand-in for the rehearsals. It sounds quite intense. I know she’ll be word perfect on the night, so it’s a case of finding someone to read from the script, rather than acting out the part. It’s just to get the timing right.’

Oh, my goodness, if he’s asking me then it’s a firm no . ‘I can think of someone who might be up for that!’ I exclaim.

‘Really? That would be a lifesaver.’ His smile grows exponentially and I’m pretty sure he’s assuming it’s me, but that’s not something I’d feel comfortable doing, even from the wings. However, Ruby from The Sailor’s Retreat has an outgoing personality, plus she might get a kick out of coming to Oliver’s rescue.

‘This is very cosy,’ he continues. ‘It’s all about the decoration, isn’t it, and you have a good eye.’ He glances around, appreciative of my little collection of old china plates on the dresser.

‘I’m a collector of things . I like to mix the new with the old and now I’m free to do what I want. It’s a little frustrating as this isn’t my forever home, but one day I’ll find the perfect place.’

‘You balance it well, that eclectic mix. I love that you’ve painted the mismatched collection of chairs to match the kitchen units. That soft blue adds a sense of tranquillity; it’s very homely.’

‘And completely different to life in London?’ I question.

He gives a dismissive laugh. ‘A little. I’ve had my flat for about four years now. It was newly refurbished when I bought it, and I didn’t have to do a thing.’

I bat my eyelashes at him. ‘Really? And does it feel like your home?’

Oliver pauses, his mug almost to his mouth. ‘I’m a train ride away from my key clients, so it’s a great base from which to work. And smart enough to use to hold meetings, as my cleaner keeps it spotless. She won’t let me make a mess of the place, even when I’m working.’ He shrugs his shoulders before taking a hefty swallow of his coffee. ‘It does the job for me, and the views aren’t bad.’

I can tell that he’s joking, and the views are probably a real cityscape, but that wasn’t what I asked. ‘It sounds …’ I cast around for something polite to say ‘… contemporary and shiny.’

‘It is. Very.’ He takes another sip before diverting the attention back to my situation. ‘Would you buy this place, if it were up for sale?’

‘It’s a part of the estate and it wouldn’t make any sense for Elizabeth to sell bits off. Like you, it suits my needs for now. I do love quaint old buildings, though. I can’t see myself settling into a newbuild, or anything that modern. This place is cosy. When I shut the front door I can feel the stresses of the day just draining away. I like to spend my winter evenings stretched out on the sofa in front of the log fire and in the summer there’s a lovely patio area out the back which overlooks the woods. I often sit outside to read until the light goes.’

‘It sounds blissful.’

I can’t tell if he’s simply being polite, especially given that he obviously prefers living in the midst of the bustle of the city. ‘Oakleigh has all the authentic charm of a little cottage, but I doubt there’s a straight line to be seen anywhere,’ I muse. ‘The beams and supports follow the curves of the trees from which they were formed and even the hand-crafted pegs securing them are each unique. That’s craftsmanship for you.’

‘It’s certainly in a nice condition and that rustic look is appealing. Sadly, not all old properties are as well restored, or maintained.’

‘On Freddie and Elizabeth’s estate they are,’ I reply. Then I realise it’s down to Elizabeth now to oversee tasks like that. ‘I still get moments when I forget he’s no longer here.’

Oliver grimaces. ‘It must be hard on everyone. I wish I’d met him; sounds like he was a great guy.’

‘He was. The best, in fact.’

‘I know your grandma lives on the doorstep. What about the rest of your family? You mentioned that you were born in the village.’

‘Mum met someone and moved down to Cornwall in April of this year. I have two aunts but neither of them live locally.’

‘That must have been a wrench.’

I stare down into my coffee mug, my thoughts churning. ‘It was, but I’m planning a visit very soon.’

‘Before Christmas? Aren’t things a bit hectic for you at the moment?’

This is awkward. ‘Yes. I … um … can’t put it off any longer, though.’

He looks shocked. ‘You mean it’ll be your first trip since the move?’

‘Yes. It’s been a difficult time. We talk every couple of days, so she understands.’

Oliver purses his lips. ‘I can sympathise with that. It’s tough when it comes to handling one’s parents’ expectations.’

‘I feel like I’ve been a bad daughter and Mum deserves better.’

‘But it’s not like you have a normal job where you can just switch off, is it? It’s obvious that you and your grandma are literally Elizabeth’s main source of support while she comes to terms with her loss and keeping everything going.’

His tone is sympathetic but there’s a little more to it than that. ‘It’s just easier if I’m on hand when problems crop up.’ That is the truth, but I did escape to spend time with my friend Marissa, recently. I should have gone to Cornwall instead, but it was a little different as it was a rescue mission. I couldn’t turn my back on a friend in need and Mum said she understood.

‘Don’t worry,’ I assure him. ‘I’ll be around most of the time if you need help, and please feel free to call on me.’

‘Oh … right. Thanks.’

He’s so hard to read at times but it’s obvious to me that he certainly takes his responsibilities very seriously indeed. In the light of the recent changes going on with Daniela, Elizabeth will expect me to a keep a close eye on him and I will. It’s in everyone’s interest that the play is a success, so it’s a win-win situation for me.

However, I still have the afternoon attractions to arrange to keep the children amused, after Elizabeth decided to bring the carollers on the village green into the courtyard. I’m still mulling that over. But first things first, and that means keeping Oliver happy.

Back in the courtyard, Oliver and I check out the three carts we rescued from Brentwood Farm. ‘They all need fixing up, but I’m more than happy to let you have one as a prop.’

‘A cart for the stage?’ He looks rather perplexed.

‘Why not? It has that vintage feel. A little sanding, maybe a coat of paint if you want it to stand out. It’s an iconic shape.’

Oliver pauses for thought. ‘Actually, that might work rather well. There’s a scene where a passer-by stops to chat with a woman selling single roses.’

‘There you go, then. A wooden cart loaded with pots of colour – what’s more Christmassy than a flower stall?’

He looks at me as if I’m crazy. ‘It would cost a fortune to fill it with flowers. We’re doing this on the cheap, remember.’

‘Silverberry Hall has a greenhouse full of potted plants the gardeners bring on ready to fill gaps if anything dies off, or to plant out when the seasons change. I’m sure they’ll be only too happy to lend you some choice specimens for the performance. And the nursery up on the main road usually sells wonderful red poinsettias on the run-up to Christmas. I’ll give them a call. I’m sure they’ll donate some for free, as Elizabeth sources most of her cut flowers from them.’

Oliver raises his eyebrows. ‘Wow! It’s not what you know, it’s who you know, isn’t it? That would be amazing. It would certainly create a great visual, even from a distance.’

‘In return,’ I warn him, ‘I might need a bit of help getting the wheels back on that one.’ I point to the saddest of the three, wondering why on earth someone started taking it apart.

‘Hey, that’s not a problem. I’ll clean off all the wheels and check their fixings.’

‘Oh, great. I want to sand the wood back a bit to knock off any rough bits. Should I do that first?’

‘Yes. Are you going to paint them all?’

‘I think it would make them look more vibrant, don’t you? I don’t know about the one for the stage, though. To be honest I’m not really sure what you’re trying to achieve. The bare wood might look better.’

Oliver beckons with his finger. ‘Come with me and I’ll show you the visuals. I am a bit concerned that Daniela is content to leave it all up to me.’

We make our way back to the barn, and he unlocks the door.

‘By necessity, I have to keep it simple as there isn’t an awful lot of room. In a theatre, we have things hidden in the wings and backstage, with complicated rigging to support quick scenery changes. This will be a fixed set and the lighting will simply highlight different zones of the stage as the story plays out.’

Oliver grabs his laptop and fires it up. ‘Let me find the stage design I put together.’

He’s every inch the professional, even though he’s doing it for free. He exudes confidence and passion for what he does, and I like that.

Maybe it’s a part of the reason why university didn’t work out for me. It didn’t take long for me to realise I wasn’t as confident as most of the other students when it came to pitching my ideas and getting feedback. My heart just wasn’t in marketing or selling myself – which is a big part of it.

I’ve always loved upcycling furniture and making things. As a young teenager I was constantly repainting my bedroom and experimenting with different techniques, including hand-drawn designs. In hindsight, I’d have been much happier studying something like interior design. Dad was a marketing manager and he said it was a diverse career path. He thought it would be an excellent outlet for my creative side, too. I guess you don’t know until you try, but it was a total disaster.

‘Here we go. This is a visual of what I’m trying to achieve. It mimics what we used the first time around. However, given that I’ve now been landed with the role of artistic director as well as prop builder, this is just a guide as I’m thinking on my feet.’

I stare at the bare stage and then back at Oliver’s clever impression of a street scene from bygone days. ‘What’s the dark blue?’

‘That’s the background. It’s twilight.’

‘And how are you going to achieve that, given what you have is a honey-coloured stone wall?’

‘Ah … do you remember those panels you helped me carry in? Well, they’ll be painted to form a blank canvas. I’m thinking of having a machine that creates the effect of falling snowflakes, trained on the stage. A mate of mine will come and sort that out and is going to lend us some stage lighting. Multiple points of light used at once can create drama and set the tone. He will need to fix the rigging onto the beams overhead.’

The three small spotlights we have in place are hardly going to make a dazzling impression.

‘That’s not a problem and it sounds like the perfect solution. So, the entire play is set outside?’

‘Yep.’

‘What’s this huge round structure?’

‘It’s where Daniela will be throughout the entire performance. She’ll be inside looking out. It allows her to follow what’s happening as it all unfolds around her.’

Hmm. OK.

‘My character, Adam, is outside his house shovelling snow. Daniela plays Eloise. The main focus of the story is that Adam and Eloise are talking to each other, but only in their heads. The structure makes it clear they can’t hear each other.’

‘I think I get it. That accounts for two of the characters and Daniela said there were eight in total, including the two children?’

‘Yes. The children are in the centre of the stage, building a snowman. At one point the focus is on them as they’re playing. They don’t have speaking parts, but there’s laughter.’

‘Scriptwriters actually do that … character x laughs at this point ?’

‘Of course, it adds realism.’

‘And building a fake snowman … how are you going to pull that off?’ I smile.

‘Hmm. I’m not sure. The first time around, Daniela had someone build a snowman out of cardboard and covered him in white wadding, the sort that’s used in quilting. It looked fine from a distance, and it was the easiest way to get that snowy feel. At one point they added the head, which was hilarious, as they had to pretend it was really heavy and took two of them to lift. Children sometimes overact.’

‘I’m not surprised, that’s hard to pull off. Does it have to be a snowman they’re working on?’

His left eyebrow lifts. ‘Why?’

‘Well, it’s incredibly difficult to make it look convincing.’

He grins at me. ‘Correct, but that’s my job. Well, my paid job, as a set and design consultant, but I also see it through to the build-out stage, if required. The problem I have is that we’re doing this on the cheap.’

‘Hmm … that doesn’t make it easy for you, does it? What if the children were just playing? You know, throwing a few snowballs around every now and again, instead … Wouldn’t that give the snowy feel with less work involved? And it would be easier for them.’

He strokes his chin with his right hand. ‘Hmm. It would be simpler. As novices, the children will need something to keep them occupied throughout the performance.’

‘Couldn’t they sit behind a couple of those big old wooden sledges and pretend to be making snowballs, piling them up ready to cart away to bombard their friends?’

I hurry off to climb the steps at the side of the podium and he looks up at me, questioningly.

‘Right. Imagine a cart full of greenery and a burst of red colour … about here, where you have a street seller on your design, with a basket on the floor next to her.’ I indicate, outstretching my arms. ‘Your cage is over there on the far side.’

‘It’s not a cage, it’s a ball,’ he emphasises.

‘You know what I mean. You then have this space to fill if you take the snowman out. If we can get hold of two old-fashioned sledges, the children could be sitting behind them, next to the ball , quietly making the snowballs. The audience wouldn’t really see that it’s cotton wool, or whatever you use, as the sledges would help divert their attention. The children simply take their time piling them up.’

Oliver pauses, casting his eyes over the empty stage while he visualises it. ‘It would be less hassle, that’s for sure!’ He seems impressed.

‘What about the other characters?’

‘Ah, you’ve already solved that problem for me with the cart. A part of the dialogue is between the flower seller and a customer. Originally, they were standing off to one side. On the night, when the stage goes dark and the spotlight homes in on them, it’ll feel as if the audience is eavesdropping. Another scene is when a man and woman stop to talk to my character as he’s clearing the pavement of snow. There’s just enough space to divide the stage into three sections: the flower cart on the lefthand side, mid-stage with the children to the front and I’ll be standing behind them, then the ball on the right. Hmm … that’s a good solution.’

I make my way down to join Oliver, who has been tapping away on his laptop the whole time.

‘What do you think of this?’ he asks, standing back rather proudly.

‘Wow! That’s exactly what I just described, but better!’

‘It’s all about illusion.’ He beams at me. ‘You’re pretty good at this.’

‘What, creating a false reality, or upcycling?’ I laugh.

‘Don’t knock it. This is going to be quite a spectacle and the idea is to create an enchanting street scene that will captivate the audience. You’re a huge part of it now as my assistant set designer.’

I feel a tad embarrassed as our eyes meet and my heart skips a beat. ‘I think I’d better grab the sander and start work on those carts.’ As I walk away, I call over my shoulder, ‘I’ll catch you later.’

‘Let me know when you’re ready for me to fix on that set of wheels and give them all a service.’

‘Oh, I will. And I won’t forget about the stand-in for the first live rehearsal, it’s not a problem.’

It’s all in a day’s work and, thank goodness, I feel confident reporting back to Elizabeth that Oliver is happy.