With the show already underway, backstage was calmer now, with fewer people running around looking harassed. Previously, Ellis had felt that she was getting in the way of people. Now, she only had to get out of the way once, when two roadies carefully and deliberately placed a full drum kit next to a pile of flight cases.

‘I’m not sure why,’ said the first roadie, ‘but this seems like just the right place to place this drum kit.’ The roadie was wearing a dark black tshirt with The Woebetides stencilled in silver cobwebby letters.

‘I told you it was a waste of time setting it up in the first place,’ said the second roadie. His black shirt didn’t have any writing on it and you could see the top of his pants peeping over the waistband of his dirty jeans. ‘I could have told you that no one was going to need it on-stage.’

‘You say that,’ said the first roadie, ‘but it was definitely worth it just to see the look on that Donny’s face when he thought he was going to have to play it.’ The roadie chuckled. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone go that white in the face before.’

‘Never mind,’ said the second roadie. ‘Let’s just leave the whole thing here and not even bother dismantling it properly.’ He paused for dramatic effect and looked off into the distance. ‘I am absolutely, completely, totally, utterly and wholeheartedly one hundred thousand per cent certain that nobody else is going to even notice this drum kit this evening, let alone find something useful to do with it.’

He laughed.

‘I’m sure that it will be forgotten about just about as quickly as we both are.’

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