What Lies Beneath the Mask
© 2016 Laura Greenwood
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission of the published, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address; lauragreenwood@authorlauragreenwood.co.uk.
Visit Laura Greenwood’s website at:
www.authorlauragreenwood.co.uk
www.facebook.com/authorlauragreenwood/
What Lies Beneath the Mask is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Other Books by Laura Greenwood
Alventia Series
Betrayed (Mailing List Exclusive)
Awakening
Cloaked
Anthologies
Touched by Shadow, Caressed by Light
Awakening Short Story Collection
The Newcomer
Stand Alone
What Lies Beneath the Mask
What Lies Beneath the Mask
For Anna,
Without her input and encouragement this story wouldn’t have been the same.
Other Books by Laura Greenwood
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Epilogue
Mailing List
About the Author
Chapter 1
The stage was a flurry of activity as the opening scene played out. Each cast member had a script in front of them; trying to remember their lines as the director, John, shouted at them all to hurry up and learn them. I was the assistant director for an amateur production of my favourite show, The Phantom of the Opera, and I couldn’t be more excited to be in charge of the staging. The first scene had been easy enough, there wasn’t that much to it, but the transformation from derelict building to stunning opera house was still eluding me. I ignored the chaos on stage and stuck my ear buds in to play the first track. I was sure that key to getting it right was that first note of the overture; and then it hit me; a sheer curtain. It would still be possible to see the backdrop of the opera house we were using for the other scenes but the curtain would make it appear duller. Then, when the Overture started, the curtain would drop. I sketched away in my notebook, bringing the vision in my head to life and jotting down notes on how it would work as I went.
“That’s brilliant.” An unexpected but smooth male voice came from behind me, making me jump before I turned around, pulling my ear bud out so to avoid any more surprises. Jack was looking over my shoulder with an apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry. Hadn’t realised.” He gestured to my iPod.
“That’s ok; I was lost in the zone.” I smiled weakly, the butterflies in my stomach were going crazy. I wish I wasn’t so affected by him, but Jack was tall and blond with just the right amount of definition to him, managing to avoid looking like he took steroids and spent most of his free time at the gym. In other words, he was the perfect person to play Raoul and almost impossible for me to ignore. Not to mention his amazing voice. We’d become friends of sorts in the past couple of weeks, especially since I’d insisted to John that we should cast him in a lead role even if he was new to the troupe.
“How would it work?” He asked, looking back at my annotated sketch.
“Very simply. We would hang it from the galley walk and then when the time came stagehands would need to let it drop. It’ll have to be a light weight material so it won’t hurt anyone if it falls on them accidentally.” At least I hoped it wouldn’t. The last thing we needed was to injure anyone for real.
“And you’ll use the same technique on Carlotta?” He asked. His question stunned me and I sat there in silence; I hadn’t expected him to have enough knowledge of the story to pick up on something like that. Most of the amateur actors we had here didn’t even know the basics of whatever show we were working on until the first read through. He shrugged. “It’s a memorable story, I can’t help but like it.”
“I’m not sure if I will.” I replied finally regaining the power of speech. “It feels like a cheap trick to use it twice; it could lose effectiveness.”
“Maybe. But you could make it different. What if you had lights at the front of the stage that lit up during the Overture, like in the film?” I mulled it over for a moment. I liked the idea, though in practice it might be difficult to pull off.
“It could work, but I’d need to look into how. Maybe those fake cloth candles could work?” Jack nodded beside me.
“So what other ideas do you have?” He asked, moving around to sit beside me. I was about to answer when a shadow fell over my page.
“Shouldn’t you be on stage Fenton?” Henry sneered. Like Jack, Henry was well suited to the role he’d earned as the Phantom. Dark haired and broad though not overly tall, he certainly had a presence. Unfortunately for me we’d had a brief fling at one point and he wouldn’t let me forget about it.
“John wanted the chorus and Merry to run through the ballet before we run through the whole scene.” Jack replied calmly not rising to Henry’s baiting. “Besides, Annabelle was just showing me some of her ideas.” My heart skipped a beat at the sound of my name from his lips; barely anyone called me Annabelle and I was used to that, but his using my full name made me feel special.
“Belle does seem to have a knack for it. Probably all those hours she spent listening to the show. She used to make me listen to it all the time.” I huffed at his lie, he’d suggested we went to see Phantom on the West End and I’d agreed; It had been our only attempt at a date, as well as the one and only time he’d had anything to do with the show before this.
“Don’t exaggerate Henry. We went to see it once.” I didn’t want Jack thinking that there was anything between us, though I’m sure he’d heard of our past by now. Probably from Merry, she had a nasty habit of speaking about people behind their
backs.
“That was such a great trip babe.” He said casually slipping an arm around my shoulder. I shuddered and pushed it away.
“Don’t call me babe.” I said through gritted teeth. Being called babe was a pet hate of mine, especially since my one and only failed relationship. Even more so when it was coming from a past mistake of mine.
“Just trying to remind you of the fun we had together Belle.” He sulked, pout and everything; something he was surprisingly good at it for a 22-year-old guy.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” I was surprised by the steel in my tone. Things hadn’t actually been bad between us, but he’d been looking for a girlfriend whereas I’d been testing myself to see if I was ready to date again after Toby. It hadn’t been a good combination.
“Keep telling yourself that babe.” I glared at him as he walked away, wondering what I’d ever seen in him.
“I’m sorry about him.” Turning back to Jack, I smiled weakly. I didn’t know why Henry was being such a jerk, normally we acted as if there had never been anything between us even if it was too well known to be a secret.
“I wouldn’t expect any less from someone who’d lost a beautiful girl like you.” I blushed, probably clashing horribly with my copper coloured hair. I wasn’t used to people telling me I was beautiful and thankfully I was saved from coming up with a suitable response by John shouting from the stage.
“Fenton. Ryman. Stage now.” Jack smiled before standing up and walking towards the stage.
“I’ll be back Annabelle.” He said over his shoulder. I watched as Merry took her place on stage and got ready to sing, while Jack took his place to the right of the stage in a fake box. I’d wanted to keep things simple for Christine’s first song, the only complicated part would be how to change her costume. Luckily for me our costume designer, Hayley, was also my best friend and we were able to work together to make the costumes and the staging work perfectly.
“Please tell me you want me to dress her in something horrible.” Hayley’s voice was a fake whine as she sat in the seat that Jack had only just vacated and I laughed despite myself.
“I don’t think Merry would stand for that.” I responded begrudgingly. Merry’s voice was already filling the theatre, and even if I didn’t like her, I admired her talent. “Besides, we want to shine, don’t we?”
“We do.” She agreed. Hayley was stunning, with blonde curly hair and a heart shaped face, not to mention a pair of baby blue eyes that would make any guy swoon.
“I was thinking that we could design all her costumes around the one corset, then we could cut down on changing time.”
“Good call, but a corset may be a bit restrictive, especially in the ballet scene.” Her face screwed up in concentration and I knew from experience that I shouldn’t interrupt. Her point was completely valid, but then that’s why she was the costume designer and I stuck to my own job. “I can make it appear like a corset if I put bones into the sides rather than all around. Clever detailing on the front and it’ll stand up to most scrutiny.”
“Bingo.” Her idea fell in line with what I wanted for this scene. “What have you planned for the ballet scene?” I asked.
“I’m thinking white with gold piping. Softer skirts that flow as the dancers move as opposed to a traditional tutu, after all we need to hide the fact that most of them can’t dance to save their lives.” I mulled it over.
“What about silver instead? We could keep the gold for half the dancers, then silver for the rest. It would make changing Christine’s costume easier.” She nodded.
“I can work with that.”
“Awesome. If we dim the lights during the instrumental in Think of Me then the back-stage crew could run on with a full skirt. That way she wouldn’t have to take off her ballet costume but it would look like a completely different dress.” The whole thing was clear in my head, and was partly inspired by the same scene in the film, though a big change like that was completely out of the question. It was challenges like this that I loved, especially when it came to live productions. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hayley nodding along, luckily for me she was talented enough to make even my most outrageous visions possible.
“So…I saw you talking to Jack.” I cleared my throat nervously, Hayley had a disturbing knack of being able to tell what I was thinking and my feelings about Jack were complicated to say the least.
“Yes.” Even if it didn’t make any difference in the end, I didn’t want to make this too easy for her.
“You should ask him on a date.” Ah, here we go. “It’s been three years since Toby, and Jack doesn’t seem to be that kind of guy.” I sighed.
“Yes but Toby didn’t seem to be ‘that kind of guy’ to begin with either.” I knew Hayley meant well, and more than that, and the rational part of me wanted to be ready to actually date someone again. Unfortunately, it was the irrational side of me that held the reigns when it came to dating.
“Yes, but you were 17 when you got together. Who knows anything at 17.” She had a point. She’d also been through some pretty disastrous attempts at relationships, including a guy who’d actually turned out to be gay. I made a non-committal noise. I knew I’d have to move on at some point but I’d always assumed it would just happen and I’d fall into a relationship with a guy. Secretly, I still had hoped that it would be as easy as that. “Oh Belle, if you don’t go on a date with him then you’ll end up regretting it for the rest of your life.” I looked at Jack on stage. He didn’t have many words in this song true, but he was singing out to the audience rather than towards Merry on the stage. My heart sped up with the idea that he could be singing to me before I shook my head to remove any more absurd ideas.
Chapter 2
I arrived to find John pacing back and forth in his office. He’d sent one of the stage hands to find me and I was nervous; John could either be a highly supportive director or one who would rip your ideas to shreds without a moment’s notice. It seemed to be a common trait of artistic types, though I was harder on myself than I was on other people, at least I was when it came to ripping ideas to shreds.
“Sit down Belle.” He nodded to the chair in front of his desk. We were a pretty successful amateur theatre troupe, so much so that we actually had our own office and attached studio in the theatre. The office was John’s domain whereas the studio belonged to me and Hayley and was strewn with hand drawn ideas, swatches of fabric and the odd prop that I hadn’t returned yet. I stilled my fidgeting hands not wanting to reveal just how nervous I was.
“You wanted to see me?” I asked after a few more agitated paces on his part.
“I’ve entered us into an amateur theatre competition.” He continued pacing as he spoke. “It’ll mean that there’s a bigger budget.” I perked up at that. A bigger budget meant that some of my more extravagant ideas would actually be possible this time around.
“What competition is it?” Now I knew that he wasn’t about to rip my ideas to shreds I felt more confident speaking up.
“It’s called The Show Must Go On. It’s televised.”
“But that means cameras.” I spoke without thinking, though my concerns were valid. John nodded and my heart sank. There were reasons I worked behind the scenes and not wanting to be on display was definitely one of them.
“It does but they won’t be here all the time. We have a couple of weeks until they first arrive and that will just be to conduct interviews with us all.” I gulped loudly, though if my interview went badly hopefully they wouldn’t use it. “We’re going to use the studio as a backdrop with some of your and Hayley’s drawings on display.” This time it was my turn to just nod.
“When are you telling everyone else?” I asked at a complete loss for anything else to say. While in theory I acted as the assistant director, in practice I had very little say in things like this. My domain was normally about how the final production looked on stage.
“After rehearsals tomorrow.” He responded though I got the impression
he wasn’t really interested in carrying on the conversation. I pushed my chair back and got to my feet.
“I need to go sort out the next scene.” I mumbled not knowing what to do with myself. John spoke just as I reached the door.
“Keep up the good work Belle. I was pleased with what you achieved in the first few scenes.” It was rare for John to comment on something like that without prompting and I felt my chest swell with pride.
“Thanks John.”
Chapter 3
The kettle finished boiling and I poured the hot water into my mug, leaving the tea to stew for a few minutes. I propped open my laptop and pulled up the latest brief from the company I worked for. As a freelance graphic designer, my job was to create things like infographics and logos based on whatever brief I was sent. It wasn’t ideal, and I actually wanted to work in concept art, but I was good at it and the style of work meant that I could do my assignments around my theatre productions. My latest assignment was an infographic on German Markets whose popularity had soared around Christmas time; not exactly riveting stuff but least I could get it over with quickly and being paid by the piece not the hour was always good. I was about to get started, armed with my cup of tea and a notepad when my phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: Hi Annabelle, you free tomorrow night? This is Jack btw. I didn’t know how he’d got my number but I actually found myself smiling as I replied.
Me: I am at the moment. His reply was almost instantaneous.
Jack: Do you want to grab some diner?
Me: Sorry Jack, I don’t date. I bit my lip not knowing why I’d sent that, nor why I’d assumed it was a date.
Jack: Okay, fancy a non-date dinner then?
Me: Sure. 7? I typed back before I could change my mind.
Jack: It’s a non-date ;-) I smiled to myself again. I wasn’t too sure what I was in for and even with him saying it was a non-date it sounded suspiciously like one. I’d just have to hope that Jack wouldn’t be too disappointed when I put the brakes on. There was a jangle of keys and Hayley walked through the front door. After dumping her things in her room, she came back and flopped down on the sofa.