‘We may be offering a rather truncated version of what I originally planned,’ said Giles, ‘but even that would lose all its drama if we repeated it. That bloody head is another masterpiece of Peter’s. We end on that and I don’t expect much applause for any other item. People in these parts only really like vulgar comedians and audience participation in the songs, and they’ll be highly critical of our old-style folk-songs and dances and, of course, they do like a full orchestra which makes plenty of lively noise, not just a violin and a flute with occasional piano accompaniment.’
‘Oh, don’t encourage us, whatever you do,’ said Peggy bitterly. ‘As though we don’t already feel inadequate enough!’
‘Oh, quite a few of the forest cabin people are coming,’ said Ronnie soothingly. ‘They’ll appreciate us, I’m sure, and we are not repeating any of the songs unless they applaud them quite wildly — and they won’t.’
‘We had better get changed,’ said Giles. ‘Good luck, everybody.’
‘We shall need it,’ said Peter. The programme opened with three of the songs. All the songs, of which there were a round dozen, were arranged in groups of three and in all of them Judy’s clear soprano was sorely missed, although Peter could manage a passable counter-tenor and Mick what the others called ‘a Hinge-and-Bracket’ voice. Pippa did not sing, her lips being otherwise engaged, but Peggy, at the piano for the songs, had a robust contralto and Plum contributed a resounding bass.
As the first three songs were to be followed by the folk dances called Three Meet and Parsons Farewell, Mick was able to appear in his girl-rig for the opening choruses, so that he had no need of a costume change for the first two dances. The other men were in the white flannel trousers which they would also wear for the morris and sword dances,but would be without their ribbon-streamer hats and the bells on their legs. While any changes of costume were being made in the little room behind the platform, the two girls were to play the flute and violin solos taking it in turns to accompany one another on the piano, and there would also be a rendering of various sentimental airs known, it was hoped, to most of the audience.
‘The tickets are not numbered,’ said Erica, ‘so we had better get there in good time if we want to find a good seat. I’m surprised that a church hall has a stage big enough for dancing.’
‘It will probably be staged at floor level,’ said the knowledgeable Isobel. ‘When these sort of people come to give a performance at my school, they use the body of the hall and the kids sit around on all four sides, leaving a big space in the middle. I expect that’s what it will be like this afternoon.’
The church hall had its carpark and only half-a-dozen cars were in it when they arrived. Peggy, at her most gracious, her generous body encased in a small black velvet bolero and a very full flowered skirt topped by a white muslin blouse, was also wearing white stockings and shining black shoes. She asked whether they would like seats on the platform — ‘you can have four in the middle of the front row’ — or whether they would prefer to be in the body of the hall and, receiving an answer, took them on to the small stage.
The choice had been made by Tamsin, who immediately saw that John Trent was up there. She appropriated the chair next to his at the end of the front row.
‘We thought you had gone home,’ she said.
‘No,’ he said. ‘We had to get out of our cabin before ten this morning, so we left soon after breakfast and I took my parents home and came back here, but I’m afraid I can’t stay to the end.’
‘We didn’t think we should see you again.’
‘Oh, these bad pennies, you know. Hullo, isn’t that your clinging vine in the doorway?’
‘Oh, dear, yes. We hoped he had moved on.’
‘It doesn’t look like it, and he is headed this way. He’s got two people with him.’
Adam, who was coming towards the platform, was waylaid by Peggy. They heard her say: ‘Sorry, but your ticket doesn’t entitle you to sit up there. This way, please.’ The middle-aged couple who had accompanied him were already being directed by the caretaker to the second row down below. Adam shrugged his shoulders and took a seat in the body of the hall as near to the door as he could get, and the couple got up and joined him, but, a few words having been exchanged, they returned to the more central seats in the second row to which they had first been directed, and the bulk of the audience began to come in.
Like many amateur performances, the show started late, Mick having mislaid a shoe, but by twenty minutes past three the two musicians had taken their places and soon the company was rendering the first of three folk-songs with Pippa at the piano, her flute in its case resting on the chair next to Peggy, who was accompanying on the violin.
The audience was not a large one, although a certain amount of money had been taken at the door, but the applause was more generous than Giles had expected it to be. The songs went down well, the dances even better, and it was a flushed and happy company which gathered in the dressing-room at the end of the dance in which Mick had been ritually slain and the bloody head carried round in triumph, a considerable alteration to the original version, but one well received by the audience.
John Trent, among others, missed this grand finale and Adam Penshaw saw even less of the show than John, for he stayed only for the three opening songs and the two folk-dances which followed them. John stayed until four o’clock and then took advantage of his place at the end of the row near the platform steps, which he had chosen so that he could slip away without disturbing anybody, gave Tamsin’s hand a squeeze and made an unobtrusive exit in the middle of three sea-shanties which preceded the hornpipe. The songs were to give Mick time to take off the beard he wore as a morris and sword dancer (different in colour and shape from the one which Pippa so much disliked on herself) and get into the blonde wig, black stockings and a skirt borrowed from Peggy, ready to dance as a bumbboat woman between Giles and Plum, the two sailors. The choruses were left therefore to the depleted choir consisting of Peter, Ronnie, Willie and Peggy, with Pippa, also singing, at the piano.
Under cover of the sea-shanties Tamsin murmured to Hermione, who was seated between her and Isobel, ‘John asked for my address.’
‘Did you give it to him?’
‘Yes. he said he would write.’
‘Pity he has to go home.’
As soon as the performance was over and the audience were beginning to leave the hall, the performers, pleased with themselves, remained in the dressing-room while the audience was dispersing. The hall being clear except for the chairs and a certain amount of litter, the caretaker came round to say that the photographer was ready. Giles went out to speak to him and learned that he wanted to take several pictures from which the editor of the local paper would make a selection.
As the company, including Pippa as the hobby horse, were still in their sword-dance costumes, that group was taken first and was to be followed by the folk-dancers. This involved only four of the company: Giles, Willie, Peggy, and Mick in his impersonation of a girl. The first three had little alteration to make in their costumes, but it was different for Mick.
‘I’ll be a minute or two getting my beard off and myself into the petticoats,’ he said. ‘Tell the chap I’ll be as quick as I can.’
‘Well, while you’re changing, the rest of us can begin clearing the hall. It’s wanted for the Youth Club tonight and the caretaker has to get the floor and the platform swept and the table-tennis trestles and boards out. I promised we would stack up the chairs and move the piano to where he wants it, so we can save a bit of our own time if we start the chores now. The photographer will have to wait,’ said Giles.