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hotel into the grounds and then walked down the long drive, once lined with wooden benches, that led from the hotel to the main road and the lake beyond.
    The weather was pleasant but brisk enough that he was glad he’d worn his jacket. He crossed the road andmade his way down an overgrown path to two weathered Adirondack chairs that overlooked the lake. Peeling, rust-colored paint on the arms of the chairs revealed bare spots of grey wood beginning to splinter.
    Simon leaned over each chair and rocked it gently from side to side. Choosing the one that felt marginally sturdier, he sat in it and gazed across the lake. A light mist hovered over the surface of the water and wreathed the bare trees that surrounded it.
    He wondered briefly, as he often did, how his life had got so crazy that he’d ended up here. But after all that had happened, he reckoned he was lucky to have a job at all. A job that came with room and board—board being a meal ticket to the canteen, and room being the small bungalow beside Charlotte Fairfax’s slightly larger one. He’d have to set up another meeting with her soon to go over the costume requirements and make sure everything was ready in time for the dress rehearsals scheduled to start in about six weeks. But he’d been in the theater business long enough to recognize a well-organized professional when he saw one. He didn’t anticipate any problems in the costume department.
    Where he did see trouble brewing, however, was with Brian Prentice. The drinking was going to be a problem, and if Simon wasn’t mistaken, Prentice already had something going on with Lauren Richmond. Be very careful when you stir the pot of desire, Brian , he thought. Especially when your bitch of a wife is hovering nearby and the object of your desire is out for what she can get. You’re headed for trouble there, old son. Tears before bed, as his old English gran used to say.
    He checked his watch and, groaning, stood up.
    *
    “All right, everybody. Hope you had a good lunch, and now let’s get back to work. Scene three. Clear the stage and let’s go.”
    Once again seated in the front row, Simon stretched his long legs in front of him and waited. Two women hurried on stage. When one stepped toward the edge of the stage to speak to Simon, he waved a dismissive hand and told them to start.
    “Nurse, where’s my daughter? Call her forth to me,” said the actress playing Lady Capulet. Her lines were met by the nurse’s response.
    “Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,
    I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird!
    God forbid! Where’s this girl? What, Juliet!”
    She held a hand over her eyes as if blocking out the sun and rocked sideways slightly. But Lauren did not appear. After a moment, the actor nearest to the wings called out, “Your cue, Lauren darling!”
    Simon stood up and approached the stage. “What’s the matter? Where is she?”
    “That’s what we wanted to tell you,” said the actress playing Lady Capulet. “She isn’t backstage.”
    “Oh, for God’s sake,” said Simon. “Where the hell is she?”
    Aaron Jacobs stuck his head around the curtain. “I’ll go find her.”
    “No, you won’t,” said Simon. “Come out from behind that curtain and get down here so I can talk to you without shouting.”
    Aaron descended the steps that led from the side of the stage and planted himself in front of Simon.
    “I need you to find Charlotte. Tell her Lauren hasn’t shown up for rehearsal. Find out from the cast mates what room Lauren’s in and ask Charlotte to check it. Maybe she’s fallen asleep or got the rehearsal time wrong or something. Tell Charlotte to phone me if Lauren isn’t in her room.” He handed Aaron a card. “Here’s the number. And after you’ve spoken to Charlotte, you’d better come right back here in case you’re needed. If Lauren hasn’t shown up by the time you return, we’ll have to find someone to stand in for her. We’ve got to keep this