Chapter 8
Frazz was waiting in Czar's, sipping a very flat glass of Coke. Finally, Colin arrived and slunk into his booth, dressed in black, complete with beanie, gloves, a torch and a large sack.
"Nice one, Colin," he said. "Why not paint a large pound sign on the sack to make it look a little less suspicious?"
"Do I look suspicious?" asked Colin in surprise. "Is this better?" He pulled down the beanie over his face to reveal cut-outs for his eyes and mouth.
"Much better," said Frazz. "How are we getting to Sherrington, anyway?"
"Ah! Don't worry about that, Frazz. All taken care of," said Colin brightly. They made their way outside. Leaning up against the wall of Czar's was a tandem bicycle.
"Please be joking," said Frazz.
"What? You don't think . . ."
"No. I don't. Looks like CM Enterprises will be funding us a cab ride to Sherrington and back." Frazz stepped off the footpath and hailed a black cab that was passing by.
"Well, if you feel that strongly about it," muttered Colin. "I suppose I can write it off to expenses."
The short trip to Sherrington was not made any easier for Frazz with Colin twitching nervously next to him in the back seat. Finally, they reached the small community theatre which housed the Sherrington Players and got out.
"3 pound 50," said the cab driver. Colin painstakingly counted out the correct fare and handed it through the window.
"Could I have a receipt please?" he asked. The driver snorted in disgust and drove off. "Must not have heard me," he remarked to Frazz, who was shaking his head. His stars for the week certainly hadn't mentioned any involvement in a crazy scheme like this one.
They walked around to the back of the building where, fortunately, someone had left a bathroom window open. Scrambling through, they crept through the darkened theatre until they had located the storage room and the rack of costumes still in suit bags. Stuffing them into Colin's suspicious sack, they made a quick exit through the same window and then made their way towards the Sherrington High Street to hail a cab back to Norbridge.
"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" asked Colin, brightly.
"Remarkably, no," replied Frazz. "But when do the Sherrington Players need them back?"
"They're not on until the weekend. Plenty of time," said Colin. "I phoned them to make sure. It's all come together quite nicely. I knew it would, of course."
"Of course," said Frazz, looking for a cab.
"You know, Frazz, we could start walking towards Norbridge and cut down on the fare . . ." began Colin.
"Taxi!" Frazz shouted as one passed by.
"Or we could just get it here," said Colin, making a mental note to ask the driver loudly and clearly for a receipt this time.
The next day, the whole cast of the school play were gathered around, excited about the prospect of getting to try their costumes on for the first time. Colin had appropriated another movable clothes rack and hung all the costumes on it, wheeling it out ostentatiously from his office, making sure Lynda saw him doing it. It now stood next to Mr Sullivan who was about to start opening them and handing them out to various cast members.
"Okay! Let's see what we have in here," said Sullivan, selecting the first of the suit bags from the rack. Everyone craned forward eagerly as he pulled out a shiny silver jumpsuit with astronaut patches on it.
"Er, don't think this is one of ours," he said jovially and reached for the next one. It contained a clown suit, complete with pom poms and oversized shoes. Puzzled, he began opening all of the bags. A white PVC nurses uniform. A crocodile. A magician costume. A policeman's outfit. A pink rabbit suit. Nothing remotely Shakespearian among them.
"Colin? There seems to be a bit of a mix-up with the – Colin?"
All eyes turned to the windows where, once again, the figure of Colin Matthews could be seen racing frantically.
"Why that guy isn't on the running team, I don't know," quipped Spike. "He's a natural!"