Part 11 (1/2)

'Yes,' said Betty, anxious to go against Moira, and back up her friend Alicia. 'Yes. It's a jolly fine idea. We'll have it.'

Moira went up in smoke at once, in a way that a demon king himself might have envied!

She stood up, glowering. 'You only say that, Betty, because you're Alicia's friend, and . . .'

'Shucks,' said Betty, rudely.

Moira went on without stopping. 'And Darrell only says it because she always backs up Alicia, too. Well, I'm chief producer, and I'm going to have my way over this. There'll be no demon-chant. Get on with the rehearsal.'

Alicia was white. 'I'm not performing any more tonight,' she said, in a cold and angry voice. 'You're quite stealing the performance yourself, aren't you, Moira? Wonderful demon queen you'd make, with that look on your face!'

It was so exactly what Moira did look like that there were quite a lot of guffaws. Alicia walked off the stage. Darrell was petrified. Sally took charge.

'Who's on next? Come on, Bill.'

Bill came on the wrong side as usual, determined to flout Moira, too. She stalked in, her hands in her breeches pockets. She always wore riding things when she rehea.r.s.ed. She said it made her feel more baronial!

'BILL! You know perfectly well you don't come in that side,' shouted Moira, who also knew perfectly well that it was just Bill's way of showing that she sided with Alicia. Bill stood there like a dummy.

'Go back and come in the right side,' ordered Moira, harshly.

'No. I'm going riding,' said Bill. Quite simply and mildly, just like that! She walked off, humming, and Moira heard her calling to Clarissa.

'Clarissa! Come on! I'm not feeling fit for acting tonight. I want to do something energetic!'

'This is silly,' said Betty. 'Everyone walking off. Let me take charge, Moira. You're rubbing them up the wrong way tonight.'

Moira shoved her roughly aside. She had a wicked temper when she was really roused, the same kind of temper as her sister Bridget, who liked to smash things up if she really felt mad!

'I'm going on,' she said, between her teeth. 'Once we let things get out of hand, we're done. We'll take the servants' chorus.'

The chorus came on, giggling and ready to play up Moira if they could. They all resented her hard ways, even though they admitted that she could get things done and done well.

Moira picked on Gwen and Maureen at once.

'You two! You're not singing! Oh no, you're not! So don't say you were. You're pretty awful every time, and you'd better pull your socks up now, or you won't even be in the chorus. I'll get some third-formers instead.'

'I say! Do shut up, Moira,' said Betty, in a low tone. 'You know you'll never do much with those two, and certainly not if you go for them like that.'

Moira took not the slightest notice. 'Did you hear what I said, Gwen and Maureen?' she called. 'Come out in front and sing by yourselves, so that I shall see if you do know the words.'

Gwen hesitated. She longed to cheek Moira, or walk off as Bill had done. But she was afraid of Moira's sharp tongue.

'Very well then - stop where you are and sing there,' said Moira, suddenly realizing that she couldn't very well go and drag Gwen and Maureen to the front by main force. 'Music, Irene!'

Irene, looking very glum and disgusted, played the servants' chorus. Gwen's reedy voice piped up and Maureen mumbled the words, too.

'Stop,' said Moira, and the music stopped. 'You don't know the words and you don't know the tune - and it is about the seventh rehearsal. You're the worst in the whole play, both of you.'

Gwen and Maureen were furious at being humiliated like this in front of everyone. But still they dared not answer Moira back. They were both little cowards when it came to anything like that. They stood mute, and Gwen felt the usual easy tears welling up in her eyes.

Needless to say the rehearsal was not a success. Everyone sighed with relief when the supper-bell went. Moira went off scowling. Many of the girls sent scowls after her in imitation.

'Beast,' said Daphne. 'She gets worse!'

'She's worried because she has so many rehearsals to take, and so much to do,' said Darrell, trying to stop the general grumbling. It made things so difficult if the girls didn't come willingly and cheerfully to rehearsal. It was her pantomime, her masterpiece - she couldn't let their resentful feelings for Moira spoil it all.

'Saint Darrell!' called Betty, in delight. Darrell grinned.

'I'm no saint!' she said. 'I'm as hot and bothered as everyone else. But what's the good of messing up the show just because we've got a producer who can't keep her temper?'

'Let's chuck her out,' suggested somebody. 'We've got Betty - and there's you and Sally and Alicia at hand to help. We don't need Moira now the donkey-work is done.'

'We can't possibly chuck her out,' said Darrell, decidedly. 'It would be mean after she's got it more or less into shape. I do honestly think she's irritable because she's so interested in getting it perfect, and every little thing upsets her. Give her another chance!'

'All right,' agreed everyone. 'But only ONE more chance, Darrell'

19 THE ANONYMOUS LETTERS.

DARRELL spoke to Moira rather nervously about the failure of the last rehearsal.

'We all know you're a bit overworked because you've done so much for the show already,' she began.

'Oh, do be quiet. You sound like Saint Catherine,' said Moira, with a glance at the nearby Catherine. 'She's already tried to make a hundred silly excuses for me. I hate people who suck up. I wasn't angry because I was tired or overworked. I was angry because people like Alicia and Bill and Gwen and Maureen were defiant and rude and silly and lazy and didn't back me up. Now you know.'

'Well, look, Moira - for goodness' sake be more understanding and patient next time,' said Darrell, holding tight on to her own temper. She felt it suddenly rising up. Oh dear! It would never do for two of them to get furious!

'Will you let me get on with my French or not?' asked Moira, in a dangerous voice. Darrell gave it up.

The next rehearsal was a little better, but not much. Darrell had insisted on writing in Alicia's chant, and Moira had frowned but said very little. After all, the script was Darrell's business. Moira didn't find any fault with either Alicia or Bill this time. She didn't need to. Both were admirable and knew their parts well. Bill, at Darrell's request, came on the stage from the right side, and all was well.

But other things went wrong. Other people came in for criticism and blame, the courtiers were ordered to sing their song four times, the servants didn't bow properly, or curtsy at the right moment, b.u.t.tons was talking when she shouldn't be!

Moira didn't lose her temper, but she was unpleasant and hard. She fought to keep herself in hand. She was head-girl of the fifth. She was chief producer of the show. She had done all the donkey-work and licked things into shape. She meant to have her own way, and to have things as she liked - and she wasn't going to say please and thank you and smile and clap, as that idiot of a Betty did!

There was a lot more grumbling afterwards. Darrell and Sally began to feel panicky. Suppose the pantomime went to pieces instead of getting perfect?