A younger girl with red hair looked terrified at Ivy’s firm tone and Olivia gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Just don’t go somewhere to fix your hair before your turn.’
The girl didn’t look any more relaxed.
Ivy moved around backstage, giving the little groups of nervous auditionees the same message. Olivia could see Sophia Hewitt, Ivy’s best friend and the other half of the backstage team, doing the same. One girl with pigtails rushed towards the backstage bathroom with her hand over her mouth.
Poor girl, Olivia thought.
She glanced over to see what Jackson was doing and saw Ivy walking towards him. With each step, an odd cloud of greenish powder billowed up from around Ivy’s feet.
What’s powder doing on the ground? Olivia wondered. That could make people slip!
An instant later, Ivy let out a yowl. ‘A-eeee!’ She dropped her clipboard with a clatter and crouched down to scratch furiously at her legs and ankles.
Olivia hurried over, being sure to avoid the powder. ‘What’s happened?’ Jackson was already trying to help hold Ivy up while she balanced awkwardly on one leg.
‘Itching!’ Ivy shrieked. ‘Itching everywhere!’
Olivia took her other arm for support while Sophia rushed over. ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded.
‘Eeiii dooooon’t knoooooow,’ Ivy wailed, rubbing her legs in desperation.
Jackson bent down to examine the ground.
‘Is it fire ants or something?’ Olivia asked, struggling to support Ivy, who was half-standing and half-collapsed on to one knee.
‘I can’t see any,’ said Sophia.
‘There’s your culprit.’ Jackson pointed to a paper bag, only half-hidden under a dusty tweed armchair. ‘All this green stuff is itching powder.’ He pulled the bag out carefully and folded it up, making sure no more powder escaped.
The other auditionees had gathered around.
‘Nobody step on that,’ Sophia ordered to everyone nearby.
‘Grr … Arrg!’ Now Ivy was sitting down, scrambling to yank off her shoes. ‘Scratch my foot!’
Olivia crinkled her nose. That was one of the grossest things she could imagine. ‘Um … No, thanks.’
‘Is she auditioning for a different play?’ asked a younger boy, wearing a Robin-Hood-style cap with a feather in it.
‘I’ll be right back,’ Jackson said.
Olivia was left in charge of a convulsing Ivy.
‘Scratch my foot!’ Ivy screeched again. ‘I can’t do both at once.’
‘Somebody put that cat out of its misery,’ sneered Charlotte.
‘Shut up,’ commanded Sophia.
Charlotte shut her mouth automatically, shocked to have been put in her place.
Olivia took a deep breath, closed her eyes and knelt down to help her sister. Ivy’s pale legs were red from all the scratching, and her toes kept curling up with each yelp.
Olivia reached out hesitantly, not sure she could actually do this. ‘You so owe me,’ she muttered. She took Ivy’s ankle in one hand and was just about to scratch it when Jackson interrupted.
‘These should help.’ He handed over a stack of wet paper towels.
Just in time, Olivia thought with relief, dropping Ivy’s leg and hastily climbing to her feet.
Ivy pressed the damp towels against her legs, closing her eyes with relief, while Sophia and Jackson worked to mop up the powder on the ground. ‘Oh my darkness, that’s so much better.’ Ivy closed her eyes and flopped back on to the wooden floor.
Olivia was baffled. ‘Why would anyone go after the stage manager with itching powder?’
‘I’m going to guess that it was meant for me,’ Jackson said. ‘No one else was over here – and I am auditioning for the lead. Sorry, Ivy.’
Sophia frowned. ‘But why would anyone resort to sabotage?’
Olivia looked around at the actors who were still watching the drama unfold. It was true that anyone who was auditioning for Romeo would see Jackson as their main threat, but this was pretty devious.
‘Whoever it was is in for a staking,’ Ivy said, finally calming down now that the damp towels had relieved the itching. She gazed down at her ankles. They were red-raw from scratching and an angry rash ran all the way up her legs. Whoever had done this had meant business.
‘That is blatant cheating and someone is going to get disqualified from the auditions.’ Ivy pointed a long finger at Jackson. ‘Hand over that powder!’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Jackson said, passing her the little brown bag.
As soon as it was in her hand, she whirled around. ‘Did anyone see anything?’
‘I didn’t,’ said the feather-in-cap guy.
‘Not me,’ replied Sophia.
Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia spotted Garrick disappearing behind a curtain, obviously trying not to be seen.
His voice echoed in her head. ‘I’m making my own luck,’ he’d said. Itching powder was exactly the kind of thing Garrick Stevens would go for.
‘Ivy,’ Olivia began and Ivy whipped her head around. ‘If you promise not to kill the messenger, I think I know who did it.’
‘Speak!’ she commanded.
Olivia drew her deeper backstage, among the dusty wardrobes filled with props, where most theatre hopefuls wouldn’t dare tread.
Jackson and Sophia followed, out of earshot of the rest of the auditionees.
‘Garrick Stevens,’ Olivia explained. ‘I’m pretty sure of it, actually. Garrick was lurking around five minutes ago and he was definitely up to something.’