Free Dying to be Famous by Tanya Landman

been great publicity for the show, hasn’t he? It sold out, didn’t it? Maybe Tiffany and Jason dreamed him up in the first place as some sort of stunt. And then he was useful cover for getting rid of Geoff. And Cynthia. And us – if we’d eaten those chocolates.”
    “But why did they want to get rid of us?” wondered Graham.
    “For the same reason they got rid of Cynthia – we saw too much. We heard Tiffany singing, didn’t we? And you asked him about the sound equipment. It was enough to spook them into thinking we might work it out.”
    “Which we have,” quavered Graham. “So will they try again?”
    I breathed a deep sigh while I considered the answer. I surprised myself by suddenly feeling relatively safe. “You know, I don’t think they will. Tiffany really, really wants this show to succeed – she’s got a lot riding on it. They can’t afford to do anything that would stop it going ahead now. It’s opening night tomorrow: she’ll be focused on that. They both will be. We should be safe enough as long as we keep our heads down.”
    So that was that. We had completely convinced ourselves that the stalker didn’t exist but we were wrong. Because the very next day he struck again.

stage fright
    Pretty much everyone in the theatre was riddled with nerves the day the show opened. Everyone, that is, except Tiffany.
    She arrived that morning in a kind of happy glow because – according to the breakfast news – she’d just been offered a part in a major Hollywood film. She looked like she was walking on air. She was all beams and smiles to everyone, even the Munchkins. Jason, on the other hand, looked furious.
    When we started the rehearsal one of Tiffany’s microphones let out a terrible screech, then crackled and fizzled into nothing. Tiffany flicked a nail against it but it was totally dead.
    Peregrine heaved a deep sigh and called for Jason, who came scurrying on to the stage.
    Tiffany startled everyone by spitting furiously, “Did you do this deliberately?” I was amazed. I mean, they’d been so careful up until then not to give away the fact that they knew each other. But you don’t speak to a stranger the way Tiffany just had to Jason.
    He took a step back, darting a look at Peregrine before saying deliberately, “Of course not, Miss Webb.”
    I thought Tiffany was about to hit him but she pulled herself back when she saw the warning look in his eyes.
    “Have you got a spare mike?” Peregrine asked Jason.
    “No,” Jason replied. “Miss Webb’s microphone was … a special one… Non-regulation. It had its own specification … a particularly sensitive decibel meter…”
    “He’s making it up,” Graham whispered to me. “There’s no such thing.”
    Peregrine started rubbing his forehead with his handkerchief. “Get another sent down from head office. Sort it out Jason. In the meantime we’ll carry on without it.”
    Three things happened when he said that. Jason stared at Tiffany, his eyebrows raised as if he’d asked a question and was waiting for her answer. Hannah grinned from the wings, her black lipstick making her look like a witch. And Tiffany exploded.
    “I’ll strain my voice!” she screamed. “I refuse to work without a microphone! You can’t possibly expect me to put up with these conditions.” She stamped her foot like a toddler in a supermarket. I half expected her to lie down and start pounding the floor with her fists but instead she stalked off, ruby heels clicking across the stage as she made for her dressing room. Jason ran after her, and before they disappeared I heard her wail, “I’m going, I tell you. You can’t stop me! No one can.”
    There was nothing Peregrine could do. He just stood there, aghast. We all did. The Munchkins were astounded to see a grown-up behaving like that. There was a long, dramatic silence.
    And then Hannah stepped forward and said awkwardly, “Peregrine, do you want me to stand in…?”
    Peregrine sighed despairingly