The Limelight

Trigger warning - death

York, England, 1928

The drumroll started at exactly 9.50pm, the background lights dimmed, and a spotlight pinpointed Alice’s sparkling red tunic. She balanced on a shining platform at one end of a tightrope, fifteen feet above stage left. The audience fell into silence for the final act. Theo McAlister stepped forward out of the wings stage right. The trademark sequins on the lapels of his black tailcoat caught the low lights in a shimmer. A second spotlight focused on him. He removed his top hat and took a deep bow.

Theo stepped forward and lifted a bow and a quiver of arrows from a wooden stand in front of him. He swept his arm across to his left, indicating for the audience to observe the floor, where a double row of three-foot silver spikes were positioned, pointing to the ceiling, under the tightrope.

“And now, distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen, for our final trick of the evening. The lovely and talented Alice Darling will walk the tightrope. You will see the three red balloons hanging at various points along the rope –“ a spotlight flicked on to each one, “each balloon positioned just above the height of Alice’s head. Using perfect timing and deadly accuracy, I will shoot each one out of the air at the exact instant Alice passes under it. And I will do all of this. . . “

Theo pulled a black hood over his head, covering his eyes completely.

“. . . blindfolded.” Theo selected an arrow and drew his bow. “Should Alice put a foot wrong, she will fall to certain death, pierced by the solid spikes below.”

The audience gasped.

Two stagehands pulled a shadow screen up from the floor, in front of the spikes, to about six feet above the stage. Only the sharply pointed silhouettes of the back-lit metal behind could be seen by the onlookers.

As the dramatic music started, Alice moved confidently off the platform. She swayed in time with the music and took a step forward, then spun around, stepped again, and lunged along the rope, her head now precisely below the first balloon. As she pulled her back leg forward and stood up to full height, Theo released his first arrow. It hit the balloon, which exploded in a shower of glittering confetti, and the arrow struck a solid target behind it, sticking firmly in place.

The audience cheered and applauded, and Theo shifted his position. The music continued to play, and Alice resumed her dance across the air. She bent over at the waist, touching her ankles for a split second, then cartwheeled along the rope, coming to rest with her head exactly below the central balloon above the middle of the stage. Theo fired his next arrow, bursting balloon number two with a puff of smoke released from inside it. The second arrow also embedded into a solid target up in the arches.

Another eruption of applause from the audience, but this one lasted a little longer and momentarily drowned out the music. Had Theo lost his cue? He turned a little to face the final balloon.

Alice ducked down on the rope, arms out to her sides, with theatrical finesse. She bent her head down towards her feet and rolled forward, arms still out, completing a full forward roll along the narrow rope, then standing upright again below the third balloon.

Theo released his final arrow. It pierced the third balloon, releasing a waterfall of paper streamers which cascaded onto the stage.

But with them fell Alice.

The audience took a sharp intake of breath. There was a heavy thud and a scream from behind the shadow screen and the shape of a woman’s body, impaled on a series of spikes could clearly be seen outlined on the stage.

Theo pulled off his blindfold, threw it to the floor and ran behind the screen. The music stopped, and the theatre fell silent, then Theo’s silhouette gracefully assisted Alice’s to its feet. They both reappeared from behind the fabric, beaming with smiles, covered in streamers and glitter and ready to take a bow.

***

Back in his dressing room, Theo ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. He’d need a bath when he got home.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in, Joseph.”

“Hey Theodore, another great performance, congratulations! Standing ovation! I’ve had another offer for you to go to London. I know you don’t want to, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t make the suggestion. We could all be raking it in if you went to the big city. You could give up the day job. There might be a national tour in it for you.”

“I know, I know, you’re just being a good agent. I understand. But I don’t want to be away from home. My family life is important. It’s local or nothing for this show.”

“Ok. I’ll go and check on Alice. I know you say that fall is safe, but every time I see it, I shudder. I have no idea how she pulls it off.”

“She’s already gone. You know how she is. She gets to the stage door before the audience have even filed into the foyer. I’ll let her know you’re concerned, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about. She’s a consummate professional.”

“Is she avoiding me?” asked Joe.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen her to talk to in two weeks. I wished her luck before your last dress rehearsal and haven’t spoken to her since.”

“She’s probably just busy.”

“We should get together soon, go out for dinner or something, the three of us.”

“That would be delightful, but I’m not sure when we'll find the time.”

Joseph left the dressing room. Theo grabbed his bag and headed home.

* * *

There was no show on Mondays. The theatre was closed to the public, but Theo had access, with his stagehands, to check the equipment and run through lighting and sound effects. Because of his day job at the department store, Theo wasn’t able to carry out these checks in the daytime, but his crew didn’t mind, some of them happy to be away from their nagging wives, some just happy to be getting extra pay. At precisely 9.40pm he sent them all to gather their things from backstage. Theo always locked up.

“Time to go home, lads. You don’t want to hang around here any later than you have to.”

Tom and Reggie retracted the shadow screen back into the stage on its roller, out of sight, and said “Good night.” It was 9.47pm. Apart from some dim stage lighting, the theatre was in darkness.

Theo sat alone in the front row of the stalls, running his knuckles rhythmically across his cleft chin. He checked his pocket watch. Exactly three minutes to go. He wished the lads didn’t have to put the shadow screen down. Without it he would see everything. But perhaps that was what he deserved.

A creak behind him made Theo turn his head. The stalls door was open, and a figure had appeared in the light let through from the foyer.

“Theodore? You still here?”

It was Joseph! What was he doing here? He would ruin everything.

“About to leave,” said Theo, standing and walking towards him. Perhaps he could get his curious agent out before it was too late.

“Sit, sit, I want a quick word,” said Joseph, heading down the centre aisle towards the front. “I insist.”

Perhaps Theo could distract him from the stage? But the noise would be a dead give-away, even if he was looking in another direction.

The two men met, level with row K and Joseph took a seat, beckoning Theo in next to him.

Sweat prickled Theo’s neck, then his hands, then his forehead. He checked his pocket watch again. Less than a minute.

“You seem tense, old man,” said the agent, pulling a hip flask from his breast pocket. “Brandy – always helps me in times of stress.”

Theo took a swig and sat down next to him in the semi darkness. He glanced around for something of interest that he could point out to Joseph but was rudely reminded that theatres are designed to draw all attention to the stage, especially if you are sitting in the stalls. With the lighting so dim over the seating, not even the fancy carpentry of the balcony or boxes could be seen. Theo silently cursed himself for not having the curtains closed before the crew left for the night.

“I wanted to-“ Joseph started. “Who’s that?”

All was lost. Alice had appeared, high up on the tightrope platform, and even with no spotlight on her, she was visible as her tunic glistened in what illumination there was.

“Oh God,” said Theo. “It’s Alice. Well, it was, once.”

Alice started her dance across the tightrope, perfectly timed even without the music as a cue.

“I don’t understand. She can’t practice with no one here. It’s not safe, what if she fell? We wouldn’t be insured.”

“She will fall,” said Theo, “and I can’t stop you from seeing it.” He put his head in his hands.

Alice passed the halfway point over the stage. She ducked down on the rope, arms out to her sides, with theatrical finesse. She bent her head down towards her feet and rolled forward, arms still out, completing a full forward roll along the narrow rope, then standing upright again below the position of the third balloon.

“Whatever do you mean?” Joseph stood up. “Alice! Alice! Come down from there!”

“It’s no good Joe, it’s already happened. And now it happens every night.”

Alice started in shock, as if a balloon had burst above her head, then she fell from the rope and plummeted to the stage, screaming as she hit the double row of spikes. They impaled her in several places.

“Call for help!” Joseph pushed past Theo and ran towards the stage pulling off his jacket.

Alice’s lifeless body, fully visible with no shadow screen in place, bled onto the stage for a few horrifying moments, then vanished into thin air. A second later, a fully recovered Alice appeared, standing stage right as if nothing had happened, and stepped forward to take a bow.

Theo joined Joseph in front of the stage, took his jacket from his hand and passed him the hip flask back. “It happened the night of our last dress rehearsal. You always hated this trick, knew it was too dangerous, that she should have worn a wire. But I was too proud for that. And Alice only ever aimed to please.” Theo wiped his eyes. “It was stupid. We ran through it one more time after the team had gone. She wanted it perfect.”

“She’s. . . dead.” Joseph took a swig of brandy.

“Yes, and her spirit replays the whole trick every night at 9.50 exactly. I don’t understand how she gets up to take a bow, but she does.”

“A consummate professional,” said Joseph. “Even in death.”

“You see now why we can’t go to London?”

Joe nodded in disbelief.

“And,” said Theo, “I’m not sure what happens to Alice’s ghost after closing night.”