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Elena balanced carefully on the narrow aluminium plank forty feet above the stalls , shining her inspection torch into the hollow belly of the Grand Theatre's ceiling . Behind the crumbling acanthus leaves of the gilded plaster , the main load - bearing timber looked disastrous . What the heritage survey had dismissed as superficial damp was , in truth , an extensive network of dry rot , crumbly and dark as peat . From the safety of the dress circle balcony below , Arthur , the development director , cupped his hands to call up to her . " Elena ! We ought to wrap up the assessment by noon . The festival committee is bringing prospective donors through the foyer at three . " Elena wiped masonry dust from her goggles and began her descent down the scaffolding ladder , her steel - toed boots ringing against the metal rungs . " You ought not to invite anyone onto that balcony , Arthur . The central cantilever truss is severely compromised . " Arthur frowned , adjusting his safety helmet over slicked - back hair . " You needn't be overly dramatic . That timber has carried audiences through two world wars and fifty seasons of opera . A cosmetic resin injection ought to stabilise whatever decay you have uncovered . " " Resin cannot resurrect pulverised cellulose , " Elena replied , stepping onto the carpeted landing . " The rot extends halfway through the core . If five hundred patrons crowd into the upper gallery for opening night , the shear load will sheer the joints . We dare not gamble human lives on decorative nostalgia . " Arthur glanced toward the grand double doors of the auditorium , where workers were already laying plush velvet carpets . " We dare not cancel opening night , Elena . The municipal grant is contingent upon a November premiere . If we postpone the season , the foundation withdraws two million pounds in matching funds . Surely you needn't condemn the entire superstructure over one rotten section . " " I dare say the foundation would withdraw considerably more if the gallery collapsed into the pit , " Elena retorted coldly . She unrolled her architectural blueprint across a tool chest and tapped the cross - section of the truss . " Look at this junction . We ought to install structural steel collars and transfer the load to the masonry piers . It will take three weeks of round - the - clock welding . " " Three weeks means missing the gala , " Arthur murmured , his voice tightening . " Then you ought to tell the mayor that his theatre requires an engineer , not an undertaker , " Elena said . She picked up her chalk and marked a heavy red cross on the access door beneath the balcony . " Nobody sets foot on this tier until the steel arrives . You needn't like the decision , Arthur , but you dare not disregard my signature on this stop - work order . " Arthur looked at the red cross , then up at the dark shadow of the ceiling . He remained silent for several seconds , his jaw clenched , before finally reaching into his jacket for his phone .
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