Katie Ginger - The Little Theatre on the Seafront - The perfect uplifting and heartwarming read

The first auditionee arrived looking terrified and Lottie went to meet them with a beaming smile. The young man with shoulder-length blond hair looked like a surfer, and climbed up onto the stage carrying a guitar case.

Lottie returned to her seat but couldn’t stop jiggling her legs.

He opened the case and readied himself to play. After clearing his throat, he began to sing. At least, that’s what he was supposed to be doing. Lottie’s face froze as he played the guitar badly and shouted out the lyrics to a song he’d clearly written himself about his dead dog. She waited for him to finish and cleared her throat. ‘Thank you, we’ll let you know.’

The mayor gave Lottie a smug smile. ‘Let’s hope the next one’s better,’ she said, giving a cheery one in return. But the rest of the auditions followed suit. The acting was on a par with the worst primary school nativity play and the singing would have made Simon Cowell’s eardrums run out of his head screaming and stab themselves on the first sharp object they could find. Someone even did some interpretive dance, though what they were interpreting, Lottie couldn’t quite figure out.

At about eleven o’clock and twenty people in, Deborah McCray arrived in a flamboyant red dress with a green scarf draped across her shoulders. Sid leaned in to Lottie and whispered, ‘Isn’t she the mad artist from Primrose Cottage? The one who paints those awful watercolours?’

Lottie gave a single nod, not wanting to draw Mrs McCray’s attention, and whispered, ‘Yeah. Do you remember that picture of someone’s kid in her gallery window? It was the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘It still haunts my dreams,’ Sid replied and they both chuckled as Lottie stood up to meet her.

‘Hello, Mrs McCray.’

‘Hullo there.’

‘If you’d like to make your way to the stage and introduce yourself to the panel, then tell us what you’ll be doing.’

Mrs McCray climbed the steps, hooking her dress up as she went. The light surrounded her and shone through her rusty coloured hair as her harsh Scottish accent announced, ‘I’m Mrs McCray, a local artist, and I’ll be singing “Casta Diva”, from the opera Norma , by Bellini.’

‘Is this going to be like Mr Neville the opera-singing parrot?’ whispered Sid and Lottie chewed her lip trying not to laugh.

Everyone waited. Conner pressed some buttons on his laptop and the song started playing. Lottie took a deep breath preparing herself for a horrendous screeching to fill the room, but, to her surprise, gentle, tuneful notes emerged. A soft and beautiful sound, rising and falling then building to a crescendo, held them all captivated. Conner turned to Lottie and his eyes were so wide in amazement she could actually see them.

When Mrs McCray finished Lottie stood up to applaud. She looked to her left where Mayor Cunningham sat with his mouth open.

‘That was amazing,’ said Lottie. ‘Bravo.’

Mrs McCray’s weather-beaten face wrinkled as she smiled. ‘Och, well, thank you very much, darlin’.’

‘Yes, thank you,’ said the mayor. ‘We’ll let you know.’

When Mrs McCray had left, Lottie turned to him. ‘I don’t see why we can’t tell people now whether they’re in, or not. It’s not like we can have too many people.’ Feeling emboldened by the last few minutes she said, ‘Mrs McCray was exceptional, so, as acting chairman, I’d like to proceed on the idea that we’ll take whoever has any talent. Okay?’

The mayor raised an eyebrow then sat back and Lottie felt a teasing nudge from Sid.

Gregory Oliver was the next to arrive with his partner, Cecil Bates. ‘Darling,’ Gregory said to Lottie, taking her in both hands and kissing her on the cheeks, even though they’d never really met before. He was tall and handsome with salt and pepper hair. ‘We’ve come for the auditions. Have we much competition?’

‘We can’t tell you that,’ said Mayor Cunningham. In the muggy atmosphere of the theatre his bald spot was beginning to shine.

‘You’ll be fine, Mr O.,’ offered Sid with a wink.

‘Off you go, Mr Oliver,’ said Lottie, directing him to the stage. ‘Just give us a quick intro before you start.’

Gregory climbed the steps and said, ‘Well, I’m Gregory Oliver and I run the bookshop on the seafront and today I’m going to give a reading from Shakespeare.’ He then closed his eyes and stood in silence for a moment before his voice boomed out. ‘“O’ reason not the need! Our basest beggars are in the poorest thing superfluous.”’

‘Well, he’s certainly projecting,’ whispered Sid into Lottie’s ear.

‘Shhh,’ she said, playfully.

‘“Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man’s life is cheap as beast’s.”’ He cast out his hands and with one did an Eighties’ air grab. ‘“No, I’ll not weep. I have full cause of weeping, but this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws or ere I’ll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!”’ Gregory fell to the floor with his head in his hands.

It seemed a little melodramatic, but it was Shakespeare, it was always melodramatic. Even in khaki chinos Lottie could picture him on the stage, under the spotlights, and hear the crowd applauding, though she worried about his knees.

‘Bravo,’ shouted Cecil, clapping enthusiastically.

Lottie stood. ‘Yes, bravo.’

‘Well done, Mr O.,’ said Sid, as Gregory came down off the stage. ‘That was brilliant.’

‘Are you actually on the audition panel, Mr Evans, or are you here to report on them?’ the mayor called out.

Sid glanced at Lottie for a moment, a playful smile on his face, before turning to the mayor and saying, ‘Just being friendly, Mayor Cunningham. Never hurts, does it?’

‘Cecil’s also auditioning,’ said Gregory.

‘Oh, of course,’ replied Lottie. ‘Sorry, Cecil. Please?’ She gestured for him to move onto the stage and sat down again. Her legs were beginning to ache from all this upping and downing but it was better than doing squats in the gym.

Cecil smiled at the panel. ‘I’m Cecil Bates and I also run the bookshop on the seafront. I love soy chai lattes and long dog walks on the beach, and today I’ll be singing.’ Cecil was shorter than Gregory and a little younger by the look of it. He had kind bright blue eyes in a smooth perma-tanned face. Conner began playing the song and without visible signs of fear or nerves, Cecil sang ‘Memories’ from Cats . It was an unusual choice, and though not as good a performer as his partner, it was still very respectable. He even managed to stay in tune, most of the time.

‘I think he’s good,’ said Lottie, quietly. ‘It must be difficult to dance and sing at the same time.’ She turned back to the stage and not caring if it annoyed Mayor Cunningham said, ‘Well done, both of you. You’re both in.’

‘Marvellous,’ shouted Gregory, giving her another kiss on the cheek. Cecil did the same and hand in hand they left the theatre.

The mayor huffed at her and fiddled with his cufflinks. ‘I really don’t think we should be telling them straight away, Miss Webster.’

Lottie bit her lip then swivelled to face the mayor. She was getting cross with his negativity now. Things were going so well he just needed to be more positive. ‘I know what you said, Mayor Cunningham—’ He opened his mouth to continue arguing but Lottie carried on. ‘If there’s someone who we’re on the fence about, I won’t tell them straight away, but for someone who is so clearly good I don’t see the point in keeping them waiting. It’s mean. So like I said, I’d like to carry on as we have been.’

The mayor scanned the ceiling and Lottie spied Sid staring at her agog. ‘What?’ she mouthed, and he gave her a big thumbs-up.