Chapter 6

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged," Spike recited solemnly. Leaning in for the scripted kiss, he couldn't resist the urge to whisper cheekily in her ear, "Although I think this is more like your prayer coming true!"

"Get off!" Lynda pushed the puckering Spike off the wooden block they were standing on and sent him sprawling to the ground.

"Lynda!" Mr Sullivan called tiredly. "It's in the script."

"But, sir! He's being so . . . Spike!"

"I can't help it, sir," joked Spike from his position on the stage floor. "I was born this way."

"He's only following the script, Lynda, as I wish you would," Sullivan replied.

"Well, on that, sir, I have a few suggestions," Lynda said earnestly. "I really think we need to trim the fat here. There's a lot of stuff that doesn't need to be here and I think we could make it a lot more punchy."

"Ever the editor, eh?" came the voice from the back of the school hall. A tall red-headed figure came down towards the stage.

"Mr Kerr!" gasped Lynda. "What are you doing here?"

"I called over to the Junior Gazette offices to speak to you about next weeks' edition and they told me I'd find you all down here."

"Oh, Mr Kerr, I'm sorry. If you think it will interfere with the paper, I'm quite happy to . . ."

"No, no, not at all," Matt Kerr replied. "I was just going to say congratulations to you all for getting in. It's important to not lose focus on everything outside the paper, Lynda. I think this play will be good for you. All of you. In fact, I was coming to speak to you about a regular insiders' feature on the play. It seems to have already garnered a lot of interest from your schoolmates, so we should give the people what they want." He indicated the gaggle of schoolkids sitting up the back of the hall, who were ostensibly watching rehearsals but really present for the the free fireworks show created by Spike and Lynda.

"You heard the man, Lynda," said Spike, springing up. "Give the people what they want!"

"Don't you have some poison to drink?" snapped Lynda.

Mr Sullivan buried his balding head in his hands before saying tiredly, "Okay, people. From the top of this scene, please."

Colin was in trouble.

Well, Colin was usually in trouble, only the depth varied. This time, Colin was in deep trouble.

Mr Sullivan had decided it was time for a dress rehearsal and Lynda had volunteered the information that Colin had the costumes ready and waiting in his office.

"Right!" agreed Colin, brightly. "Yes, the costumes. Lovely, they are. All velvets and dubloons and things. Lovely handiwork. Beautifully made."

"Well, could you bring them along tomorrow, please, Colin," said Sullivan distractedly. It had been several weeks of rehearsals and Spike and Lynda were still to complete a scene involving a kiss without incident.

"Tomorrow?" asked Colin, nervously. "As in, the day after today?"

"That's generally when tomorrow takes place, Colin," replied Sullivan. "Is there a problem?"

"No! Not at all. Tomorrow. Costumes. Right." He jotted something down in his notebook and casually strolled out of the hall. By the time he passed the windows, he was bolting in the direction of the Junior Gazette offices.

"Frazz!" he gasped, running into the resident astrologer in the hallway. "You have to help me!"

"Do I?" asked Frazz. "What now, Colin?"

"The costumes. The ones we borrowed from your uncle for the school play."

"School play?" Frazz was not usually known for being up to date with extra-curricular school activities.

"You know, Jomeo and Ruliet!" gabbled Colin, frantically.

"Oh, right. You mean Spike & Lynda's Fight Club: The Arena Spectacular," chuckled Frazz.

"Yes, yes," Colin waved his hand distractedly. "Anyway, the costumes. Your uncle loaned them to me when the play was first announced. Very kind of him, free of charge and all . . ."

"Let me guess," said Frazz thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "You've done something with them."

"Sort of," replied Colin, guiltily. "But they're in good hands! And it was such a lucrative little deal, Frazz! Honestly! It just so happened that the Sherrington Players were doing a little Shakespeare number of their own so I gave them a good price on costume hire. You see, I didn't think we'd need them for another couple of weeks. Only now Sullivan wants them tomorrow for a dress rehearsal! What am I going to do?"

"I don't know, Colin," replied Frazz. "What's your star sign again?"