The trio continue to giggle, occasionally breaking out into uncontrolled laughter. Musical Director, Richard, bristles. Jessie just can’t seem to hit the opening C, and of course, her B Flat throws Sybil and Lily off, too. “Er, ah … Three little maids from school are we…”, hits the theatre’s far wall and lands somewhere: as flat as a pancake!
“Righto girls, let’s try it again!” Richard thumps Middle C on his keyboard. Jessie’s throat gags nervously, the note flies south again, with the other two maids inexorably following!
Four weeks in, the production is falling into place, lyrics learnt, staging looking great, and for the first time, the orchestra and choral components are under the one umbrella. If we can just find some way to bring Jessie in half a note higher, and also, to get that Double Bass player to ease back on their ‘Um pah pa’, Richard muses.
Three weeks until opening night. The stage flats are looking great, and some clever carpentry is providing a wonderful, three-dimensional depth to the set. The painted cherry blossoms, rosy, sugary pink, looking good enough to eat!
The rehearsal continues. A complete run through, a flawless ending “…at a tree by a river, a little tom-tit”. It’s a wrap. Richard has a quiet word with the Double Bass player before his “OK, see you all next Thursday” has everyone retrieving hats, coats, and bags.
“Margaret, can I have a quick word. You know when you are about to bring the orchestra in at ‘Three Little Maids’, I need you to throw Jessie an extra Middle C; nothing too overpowering, sotto voce, just enough for her to pick it up and hit that elusive note?” “Yes, I can insert that. We’ll practice it on Thursday.”
Friendly banter as the troupe reconvenes. Richard overhears a couple of the chorus making quite unsavoury comments about Jessie’s missing C. Richard chooses to ignore the sniggers and throws a meaningful look across to Margaret. The session gets underway.
That extra note works beautifully. Those ‘Three little girls…’ hit Middle C beautifully; clear, melodic, on-pitch. Everyone hears it; there is an acknowledgement of Jessie’s triumph, and at the next break, there is spontaneous applause. Jessie beams: the rehearsal continues.
Opening night. Gas lanterns highlight The Savoy’s profile in the cool Covent Garden’s evening. Hansom cabs jostle with lively foot traffic: an expectant, excited crowd humming with anticipation of this new D’Oyly Carte production. The Telegraph and the Times both carry editorial, enthusing this latest exploit from Messrs Gilbert and Sullivan.
A last-minute program review, throat clearing, settling. The chatter stills as the lights dim. Everybody is already familiar with the antics in Pinafore and Pirates, drawn tonight with the prospect of a new comic romp. The audience collectively indulges in that quirky, almost audible intake of held breath. The curtain rises.
History never records the triumph, but Richard’s fingers are tightly crossed. Jessie leads the trio as a Middle C flies effortlessly out towards the Dress Circle.