REHEARSAL
By
Brian Sands
The Playwright. From The Devil Came from Akasava, HtF vidcaps
Chapter 9 Denouement
‘You see, Ducky, the denouement - as you know - is the final scene in which the complications of the plot are untied.’
Delia Biancoflore was speaking animatedly to Eloise Mordaza who was listening in rapt attention.
‘Like the untying of the heroine,’ observed the Director sweetly, casting a glance in Laura’s direction.
‘Exactly. As in act three, scene four, though I haven’t yet decided whether to allow it to stand on its own or to make it the penultimate scene.’
‘Ah, an anti climax!’
‘Yes indeed. You see ...’
The two women continued, immersed in conversation over the coffee table, their copies of the script laid out on its surface together with two half finished glasses of champagne. They ignored Laura and Alison. Alison was hovering ineffectually around Laura by the doorway to the storeroom. Laura, still bound securely into the chair, was glaring angrily up at her friend over the gag that by this time made even a semblance of speech impossible.
Alison bent low and began whispering urgently to her captive friend. ‘Lalla, I don’t know what to do. Clive’s got me worried. He made a strange business proposition last night, when I thought you’d gone off home. And now I find you tied up in that room. Clive did it didn’t he?’
‘Mmmff.’ All Laura could do was nod her head and grunt faintly through a mouth that felt permanently cemented open with the cloth that also filled it and made her lips numb.
‘Lalla, you’ve got to help me,’ continued Alison. ‘He made me too drunk to think straight ...’
‘Mmmff!’ You got yourself drunk! Laura thought bitterly.
‘... but now it all seems so much clearer this morning. I need your advice, Lalla. And an explanation why he left you tied up like this.’
‘Mmmff.’
‘But we can’t say anything in front of Miss Mordaza and Madam Biancoflore. It’s too embarrassing, and I don’t want them to know more about my mistakes than can be helped.’
‘Mmmff, mmmff.’
‘I haven’t taken your gag off yet ‘cos I want you to understand. Will you help me?’
‘Mmmff.’ Laura nodded earnestly.
‘Good. I’ll untie you now, and I’ll explain everything when they’ve gone.’
Whenever that is, thought Laura as she felt Alison’s fingers begin working on the thick linen knot at the back of her head. The two older women were by now totally oblivious to everything around them as they argued animatedly over different plot points.
The knot finally unravelled and the linen bandage dropped away from Laura’s face. Her jaw was so stiff that she could not eject the packing from her mouth, and her efforts were ineffectual even when she tried with her tongue. Alison inserted a thumb and forefinger delicately between Laura’s teeth and gradually extracted the sodden cloth. Laura worked her jaw as much as she could. Her mouth tended to stay open. Her lips felt swollen and sore, and she could not utter a word for some time.
Alison untied her bonds and Laura sat for a minute rubbing her wrists, then ruefully massaging her face and jaw with numbed fingers. Being tied up tight for so long was very different from being bound on stage, she noted.
Alison approached nervously to the Director and the Playwright. ‘I - I’ll help Laura to the bathroom shall I?’
Eloise Mordaza waved a hand dismissively without turning.
Alison walked back to Laura. ‘Here, I’ll help you.’
Laura was thankful that she had Alison to support her when she almost fell on first attempting to rise. As they shuffled their way to the bathroom, Laura felt like an invalid.
That bastard! The epithet ran continuously through her mind as she inspected the indentations and rope burns on her wrists. In a dream, she stripped and showered with Alison gabbling unintelligibly at her as the deliciously hot water cascaded over her slender body and ran in soapy rivulets between her full breasts. When she was done, Alison passed a large soft towel across to her.
‘I didn’t really take in everything you were saying,’ said Laura as she towelled herself down. Her own speech came out with difficulty through jaws that remained stiff and sore.
‘I was saying,’ said Alison with studied care, ‘that Clive said I should let him have copies of the new season’s fashions coming to the boutique where I work. He said that with the money I’ve already lent him he can start up a little business ahead of the others, and make a killing.’
‘That’s industrial espionage, of a sort!’
‘That’s what has me worried. I know my boss is a bit of a martinet, but she doesn’t deserve betrayal. She wasn’t nearly so bad until that time she was kidnapped, when I was away on vacation. I think she’s got some sort of a crush on the man who kidnapped her. So I understand. And I really don’t want to do anything to hurt her.’
‘I’d say you’ve answered your own question, Ally. Don’t do it! That rat you’re so stuck on used to be my boyfriend.’
‘Oh no!’
‘Oh yes! But only for a short time, thank god, before I realised what a creep he was. When he started asking to borrow money, I smelled a rat straight away - the rat - so I went to the consumer advice people. They told me he was known to persuade women to give him their money.’ Laura intentionally left out the word ‘gullible’ from that sentence. ‘But they didn’t have enough evidence to convict him. Apparently he’s a lady-killer and some of them were really soppy over him.’
‘I - I think I believe that. He does have a sort of charm.’
‘Like a snake! Don’t be fooled, Ally ... Drat, these clothes are in a terrible state,’ said Laura, holding up her dirtied silk blouse to the bathroom light.
‘I’ll get some of the spares you brought in your overnight bag,’ said Alison.
She left the bathroom. When she returned she was carrying a clean pair of panties and a bra, both in snowy white lace, a pair of tan stockings with suspender belt, dark shoes with medium heels and a bright shine, and a simple one piece silk dress. It was a button-through outfit like the dress Laura had worn earlier with a wide belt of matching material that lifted and flattered her breasts and, with its pointed, blouse-like collar allowed the three-buttons-open style its full effect. It was one of Laura’s favourites. For a moment she held the soft material to her cheek, revelling in the sensuous feel of the blue patterned silk.
‘You’ll never guess what Madam Director and Miss Biancoflore are doing, Lalla ... Oh, you have such beautiful clothes,’ said Alison wistfully as she watched Laura step into her panties, adjust her bra with its front clip, and then slip on her stockings.
By the time Laura had dressed, brushed her hair and pinned it up, and added a light touch of makeup to her face and lips, she was feeling a little more human.
‘Right Ally, we’ll go along with what our directors have to say and get rid of them as soon as we can. Then we must have a good council of war about what we’ll do with Clive, who was Ronald to me ... But you’re bursting to tell me something. What is it?’
‘Better yet, I’ll show you,’ said Alison conspiratorially. She turned to the bathroom door and opened it a crack wide enough so that she and Laura could see into the room.
‘Oh my,’ gasped Laura with a faint chuckle. ‘More rehearsal I see!’
Delia Biancoflore was sitting in one of the chairs, apparently pretending to be unconscious. She was covered in a spider-web network of ropes that Eloise Mordaza had evidently just secured around her. The Director was at that moment tying a crisp silk neck scarf folded into a triangle across the Playwright’s lips. It was her own breast pocket kerchief. Laura could see the white outline of packing in the Playwright’s mouth that the scarf would hold in place.
The sight of the exquisite blue silk contrasted against the Playwright’s perfect complexion and golden hair, and the black silk chiffon blouse, took Laura’s breath away although, having recently experienced what it was like to be really tightly bound and gagged, Laura had very mixed feelings about the whole scene.
‘Oh there you are, dears,’ exclaimed the Director as Laura and Alison entered sheepishly. ‘We’re experimenting with colour, and with what Del calls stage ropes. You know that in melodrama the ropes are either larger than life or more lavishly applied that what they might be in real life. And the gag’s usually exaggerated, such as a large red bandana. Or, and this is an interesting effect, if the gag is in a bright silky material. That’s why I was so pleased to experiment on you two girls with those dressmaking silks. But I tied you in the more conventional fashion, for a real crime, that is. And Delly here is making a very interesting point don’t you think?’
‘I- I think the gag’s lovely on her,’ said Laura truthfully.
‘Phnng yyy,’ replied the Playwright indistinctly through the packing and the two layers of silk covering her mouth.
‘Even a flimsy silk scarf has some muffling effect,’ mused the Director. ‘Especially with a little packing. Now,’ she turned to Alison and Laura, ‘get those ropes and do the same to me. I want to know what it’s like to be tied up in a net of ropes too. It’s important for how we finally set up the stage for you, Laura. Audience reception, as I said before.’
*
ACT THREE, SCENE 4 cont.
THE DRAWING ROOM
DOLORES BEAUCOEUR rolls from the secret doorway onto the floor of the drawing room. Her arms are bound behind her and her legs are tied together. The lower half of her face is hidden by the large white gag. She is wearing an overcoat.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: My god, it’s Miss Beaucoeur!
THE COOK: Lawks! The poor thing’s gagged an’ bound.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: (Kneeling at DOLORES’ side and beginning to untie her arms and wrists). Poor girl. She’s badly hurt. The rope’s cut deep into her wrists. (DOLORES lifts her head, sees GERTRUDE standing beside the chair she has just vacated, and attempts to speak. She can only croak faintly through the gag). Steady my girl. We’ll have that off you in a moment. There. (As the gag comes away in the DETECTIVE INSPECTOR’S hand, DOLORES raises her head and starts to speak).
DOLORES: Please, you must help. There’s been an awful crime. (She faints).
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Lift her onto the sofa. Leave her overcoat. It will help if she’s going into shock. (He lifts DOLORES by the shoulders while the MILITARY MAN takes her legs).
THE COOK: I’ll get the smelling salts (she exits hurriedly down right stage).
MILITARY MAN: What bounder did this to the poor girl?
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: We’ll discover that quickly enough when she regains consciousness. (He sits on the edge of the sofa beside DOLORES and chafes her wrists and arms gently). This will help restore circulation to these beautiful limbs.
GERTRUDE: (Who has stood back from the proceedings). That doesn’t sound like a very professional attitude!
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Sometimes one has to step out of role, Madam. (The door opens from down right stage and THE COOK returns. She hands a small bottle to the DETECTIVE INSPECTOR). Thank you. (He holds the opened bottle to DOLORES’ nose. She stirs but does not regain consciousness).
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: She must have been through a lot. Those marks on her arms indicate that she’s been tied up for hours.
THE ADVENTURER: What do you suggest Inspector?
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: I think it would be practicable to take Miss Beaucoeur up to her room and allow her to rest for at least an hour. She may be recovered sufficiently by then to tell us what happened.
THE ADVENTURER: I’ll help to carry her.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Very well. She must not be left alone for even a minute. Understand that you are all suspects in this case, and I’m not at all sure whether the young woman will remain safe. Two people at least must be present with her at all times.
THE COOK: I’ll look after the poor dear.
GERTRUDE: I will too. I take back what I was saying about her. One would not wish this on one’s worst enemy. And it will be good for two women to be there for her.
THE COOK: I’ll go an’ get my knitting to pass the time. (THE COOK exits down right stage).
THE ADVENTURER: (Who is now carrying DOLORES in his arms as easily as one would lift a child). Madam Black, if you would be so kind as to open the doors?
GERTRUDE: By all means, Rod. (THE ADVENTURER and GERTRUDE exit upper stage right).
MILITARY MAN: Dash it all. Now we have to wait for the unfortunate woman to come to her senses. My hounds ...
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: (Coldly). And badgers. I know. One of life’s little disappointments.
MILITARY MAN: Harumph. No point in remaining here I suppose. I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me. (He bows stiffly and exits upper stage right).
SOCIETY GIRL: (Who has been standing back with her hands to her mouth in alarm throughout the whole proceedings). If - If you don't mind, I'll go up to my room too. I don't feel very well.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Yes, by all means. It's a nasty shock for all of us.
SOCIETY GIRL: I- I'll lock my door.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: (Abstractedly). Good girl. One can't be too careful under the circumstances. (The SOCIETY GIRL exits upper stage right).
THE BUTLER: Will that be all Sir?
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: (Deep in thought). What? Oh, yes, James. Everyone should go about their normal duties. But they are not to leave this establishment of course.
THE BUTLER: Of course, Sir. I’ll be in the kitchen if I am needed, Sir. (He exits lower stage right).
The drawing room is now empty except for the DETECTIVE INSPECTOR who paces back and forth from down right centre stage to down left centre stage, fiddling with the pipe which he has taken from his pocket, and muttering to himself.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: They were all willing to help, even Madam Black and the Major. And yet one of them has to be implicated in the disappearance of Miss Beaucoeur, perhaps more than one person, not to mention the death of the old lady. (He pauses and glances at his watch). I must look in on the girl and make certain that Cook and Madam Black are watching over her. (He walks towards the exit centre stage right, but as he reaches for the handle the door flies open and THE COOK bursts into the room).
THE COOK: Oh dearie dearie me. Lawks, Inspector, come quick, it’s the young Miss.
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: What is it? What’s happened?
THE COOK: I just now came up, with my knitting an’ everything, for a nice long sit-down an’ lookin’ forward to lookin’ after the young gel. Only, Inspector ...
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: Yes yes, go on woman!
THE COOK: She’s gone, the young lady. Vanished, Sir. An’ her bed ain’t been touched, Sir!
DETECTIVE INSPECTOR: My god. I was afraid something like this might be attempted, but not as soon as this! (He exits precipitately upper stage right followed by THE COOK).
The lights dim. In the half-light, a figure emerges from down stage right, pauses a moment, then walks across to the fireplace in the wall centre stage left. The figure pauses again, then he or she disappears into the entrance to the secret passage. The wall panel closes after the figure.
Curtain
*
‘How does that feel?’ asked Laura anxiously. She and Alison had just finished roping the Director into her chair in a crisscross of variegated cords.
Eloise Mordaza stirred and tested her bonds. ‘That’s very good, dears. I know Alison has a lot of experience by now, but you too, Laura. You’re good at this. I don’t think I’ll be getting out of these knots without help.’ She turned to Delia Biancoflore. ‘How about you Delly?’
‘Mm mmther,’ replied the Playwright indistinctly through the padding held in place by the silk tied tightly across her lips.
‘Hmm, I think you mean, "Me neither?" ’ said the Director with a chuckle. ‘As I said before, even a stage gag tied tightly enough interferes with speech. And, if one can’t get the gag off, even indistinct cries are likely to be ignored by neighbours or passers-by, depending on where the damsel is. A muffled cry for help can easily be mistaken for a television drama on air, or even for normal conversation behind walls. That’s why a gag is so important, even when it only reduces sound a little. If it makes ones speech indistinct ... but then again, packing in the mouth is even more effective.’
Alison tapped her foot impatiently on the floor. ‘Shall I do it, Lalla, or do you want to have a try at shutting up Miz Director?’
‘I’ll let you do it,’ replied Laura.
She continued to be astonished at how the two older women were having such innocent fun when a more serious drama affecting their students was being played out unknown to them.
Alison took up a long piece of dressmaking satin from the cloth remnants. It was clean and not creased like the others that had already been used as gags. They lay in a heap at the other end of the table. She folded the smooth cloth into a long bandage and approached the Director.
‘Aren’t you forgetting something, Ally?’ asked the Director.
Alison stopped and regarded her superior uncertainly.
‘You can gag me a lot more efficiently than that,’ the Director continued. ‘Fix a little wadding between my jaws, like I did with Delly.’
Alison turned back to the table and selected a small piece of silk. She began to roll it into a wad.
‘I’m glad I gagged Delly this way,’ said the Director archly. ‘A real gag should make a woman very quiet, I always say.’
‘Nnnn thnnng yyy,’ replied the Playwright, shaking her head.
‘Well?’ said Eloise. ‘I’ll show you how a real heroine takes her gag. Go ahead Ally you fiend. You’ve been waiting for this chance, I know.’
The Director opened her mouth and took the rolled-up silk without a murmur. When Alison had bound the satin strip over her lips, she experimented but made less sound than her colleague. The Playwright, who was watching all this intently, nodded in satisfaction.
‘They’re both nice and quiet now,’ said Alison, her hands on her hips. ‘How about you, Lalla? Are you game to demonstrate for our bosses?’
With those last words, spoken with her head turned from both the Director and the Playwright so they could not see the expression on her face, Alison cast a faintly worried frown in the direction of the door at the top of the steps.
Laura considered. If she did not go along with the rehearsal game, Eloise Mordaza and Delia Biancoflore might begin to suspect that something was not right and, like Alison, she did not want them to become involved in the mess.
‘Not too tight,’ she whispered to Alison as her friend bent over her from behind and began to loops coils of rope around her waist to secure her into the chair.
‘That’s okay,’ Alison whispered back reassuringly. Then aloud she said to the two watching executives, ‘You haven’t seen actually how I go about this, have you?’
The Playwright and the Director shook their heads in agreement and replied as well as they could.
‘Nnmm.’
‘Nnnnn.’
‘Then I’ll get on with Lalla here.’
Alison drew Laura’s arms behind her to the back of the chair. Laura’s wrists were crossed in the conventional fashion and soft but thin cord was looped around them in an alternate vertical and horizontal pattern that Alison kept on winding until all the rope was used up. With each turn, Alison pulled the cord tight.
‘Ouch. Hey, go easy won’t you?’
‘Just demonstrating,’ said Alison loudly. But in a whisper against Laura’s ear as she bent to her task of making the final knots, she hissed, ‘Keep quiet, Lalla, or you’ll spoil everything.’
Laura could not understand what that last warning meant.
Her hands were now firmly bound. Alison went quickly to the bench and took up a roll of heavy industrial tape in one hand, the sort Laura recognised as duct tape, and a switch of silk cloth in the other hand. She tore off a strip of the tape as she walked back across the room to Laura.
‘Open up please, Lalla. There.’ She packed the piece of silk firmly behind Laura’s teeth and into her mouth. Laura was getting used to this sort of gag, but the familiarity did not prevent a faint choking reflex as it went in. ‘Now close your mouth with your lips together, please,’ said Alison loudly, once again for the benefit of the other two bound women.
Laura obeyed resignedly. Alison spread the wide, sticky material across Laura’s mouth and lips. The tape was long enough to cover both cheeks and immediately sealed her mouth tight shut.
‘There. I thought I’d experiment with tape this time,’ cried Alison triumphantly, addressing the Playwright and the Director. Then in a flash of what Laura thought of as unusual brilliance in her scatty friend, Alison added, ‘You said you were experimenting with colour. You see a lot of that nice silvery tape on TV, when the kidnapped heroine is subdued.’
The Playwright and the Director nodded in unison, their responses as indistinct as ever.
She’s even talking like the Director and the Playwright, thought Laura in surprise. There was a lot more to her friend than she had ever suspected.
‘I have an idea,’ exclaimed Alison.
Oh no. She’s having another brilliant idea, Laura thought unhappily.
‘Have you ever thought of blindfolding your heroine?’ Alison went on, addressing the Playwright.
Delia Biancoflore made a puzzled frown over her gag and shook her head slowly.
‘Let’s do it then!’
Alison walked to the bench and took up several lengths of silk. She went first to the Playwright and bound one piece around the older woman’s head three times, covering her eyes completely. The cloth was knotted tightly behind Delia’s head.
Alison stood back. The Playwright shook her head from side to side, made a few grunting sounds, then sat still. Alison turned to the Director. Without a word, she blindfolded Eloise Mordaza with the second length of silk. It went twice around the Director’s head and was also knotted tightly in place.
‘There. Now neither of you can see anything going on, can they Lalla?’
The question was whispered so that only Laura could hear, and she realised that the Director and the Playwright would be unable to hear anything clearly through the layers of silk blindfold that covered their ears as well.
But Alison was not finished with her new captives. She went to the cupboard where the ropes - and Laura herself - had been stored, and removed from an upper shelf two sets of old fashioned head phones that must have once belonged to a stereo set. When these were placed over the heads of Delia and Eloise to cover their ears as well as the blindfolds, both women became apprehensive and strained uselessly against their bonds. But they settled down, no doubt to wait out developments. Laura even thought she heard the Director chuckle through her tight gag.
‘Now we can not only speak,’ cried Alison excitedly, ‘We can also move about without them being any the wiser.’
What on earth ...? thought Laura.
But Alison answered her unspoken question almost immediately. She was dialing a number on her mobile phone.
‘Hullo? Clive darling, there’s been a bit of a mix-up here but it’s all sorted out now ... Yes, our little dupe is nicely bound again ... I know ... Yes, the other two won’t give us any trouble ... No, I’ll explain that when I see you. Are you coming now? ... Wonderful. Bye darling. Mwa.’
Alison turned to Laura. ‘You really are a nuisance, Lalla. Whatever shall we do with you? Well, I’d better keep you more or less as Clive had you, with these buttons nicely undone.’
Alison unfastened Laura’s dress buttons down to her belt and pulled the wide blouse-like collars apart far enough to allow a half-cup of lacy bra on one side to stand out in relief against her friend’s smooth skin. A smaller strip of white lace and round flesh peeped provocatively from the other side. Alison admired her handiwork for a moment then, with a mischievous grin, began to unhook the buttons of Laura’s skirt as well, one by one, taking her time and evidently enjoying every second of Laura’s discomfiture.
‘Clive liked this too, didn’t he?’ Alison went on with the one-sided conversation. ‘Like a lot of men, he likes panties. And your lingerie is sooo sweet! He’d enjoy stripping you altogether, I know.’
Alison parted Laura’s skirt to reveal tan-encased thighs that allowed the eyes to rest on the strip of fair skin above them, to glimpse the suspender belt with its small red ribbons where it clipped onto the stockings. And, whenever Laura moved her legs in her struggles, there was exposed intermittently a triangle of white lace.
‘Gotta keep the man occupied,’ said Alison cryptically. She twitched Laura’s skirt playfully.
Laura was beginning to panic. Clive? She’s called Clive? What on earth is the silly girl up to?
She was bound again, and gagged tightly. Laura felt as though she was a helpless pawn in some sinister game. And only Alison knew the answer.
The Director. From Man of the Century, Gman.
Chapter TenBack to Chapter Eight
ã Brian Sands 200