by Caragh Bell
It was time.
Ella was waiting outside the theatre when William arrived. She had his coat on her arm and looked stunning in a short green dress, black tights and boots. Instead of her anorak, she had her red coat on, which was far better suited to the cold weather.
She smiled and kissed his cheek. ‘You’re late.’
He held up his hands. ‘The bloody train was delayed. Not my fault.’ He gazed at her for a moment. ‘You look so beautiful.’
‘Beautiful?’ she scoffed. ‘Oh, Will, you need glasses.’ She handed him his coat, then linked arms with him and pulled him towards the entrance. ‘Let’s go in and get a programme. I hope you got us good seats.’
‘Oh, it’ll be front row. They’re complimentary.’
The theatre was small and old-fashioned with ornate balconies on the side and deep-red velvet curtains on stage. It was over a hundred years old and the seats were in disrepair with threadbare upholstery and worn arms. However, it had an undeniable charm and was already quite full.
Gloria and Henry were sitting in the front row along with Ophelia, Laura and Christian. There were four free seats: two for William and two for Maggie. Aurora always sent tickets to Cornwall, but to date her old nanny had never turned up.
‘Good evening, all,’ said William, leading Ella to their seats.
‘Is that Ella Taylor?’ said Gloria standing up. ‘My word, it is too. Hello, my darling!’
Ella fell into her embrace and squeezed her tightly. Having spent the majority of her childhood in the Dixon household, she knew Gloria very well.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ she said. ‘You look just the same.’
Gloria laughed. ‘Hardly. It’s been a long time.’
Henry waved amiably but he had no idea who Ella was. She had moved to Toronto quite soon after his arrival and Laura had had many friends throughout the years. It was all very confusing. On his left was Theresa, except she wasn’t Theresa any more, she was Ophelia. He settled back into his chair and opened the programme. There was a brief synopsis of the story and pictures of the cast. Aurora’s face stared out at him. An array of emotions passed over his face. Sadness, pride, regret, love . . . She was her mother’s daughter and it soothed him to think that her memory remained safe and alive in her only child.
Laura yanked Ella’s sleeve. ‘So glad my dumb brother convinced you to come,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’d like you to meet my boyfriend Christian.’
Ella focused in on the older distinguished man on Laura’s right, who was typing an email at breakneck speed on his Blackberry.
‘Your boyfriend?’ she mouthed, wide-eyed.
Laura nodded. ‘Isn’t he fabulous?’ she mouthed back. She touched Christian’s arm. ‘Christian, this is my friend Ella Taylor – we’ve known each other since nursery school.’
‘Hey, honey, good to meet you.’ Christian held out his hand and Ella shook it.
‘Delighted,’ she said politely.
He turned back to the Blackberry, his brow furrowed.
‘Work,’ explained Laura, ushering her along the row. ‘He’s frightfully busy.’
William gestured for her to sit down. ‘It’s about to start,’ he whispered loudly. ‘I hope Aurora is holding it together backstage. She was quite nervous when we spoke on the phone earlier.’
The red curtains on the stage moved slightly. There was no sign of Justin Debussy. He was notoriously elusive on a first night, preferring to stay out of the limelight. Most people wouldn’t believe it if they were told that he was nervous. Only Aurora knew how vulnerable he was; she understood the terror he was feeling.
A tall sandy-haired man sat down on the last available seat by Ophelia. She glanced sideways and nodded in salutation. He had taken one of the seats reserved for Maggie. He had an impressive profile, skin dotted with freckles, a long straight nose and a strong jaw. She flicked her hair and straightened her dress. He was quite cute, even though he was clearly in the wrong seat.
‘Would you like to look at my programme?’ she whispered, fluttering her eyelids.
‘You’re all right,’ he answered in a deep voice. ‘Thank you kindly.’
He had an accent she couldn’t quite place. It reminded her of a pirate. The lights dimmed in the theatre and the curtains began to open. The crowd quietened down immediately and darkness descended on the small auditorium. A spotlight appeared and focused on a round table at the centre of the stage. At the table sat Joey Sloane, the mobster boss with his troop of men. Next to him, like Brutus, was his right-hand man Jimmy Romano. The audience settled back in their chairs and watched the story unfold.
‘Bravo!’ shouted Henry, clapping madly. ‘Bravo, my darling!’
Aurora bowed again, Paul and Ray by her side. When the curtain had gone down, there had been silence for ten agonising seconds. Then the crowd had erupted, yelling and clapping. The curtains had opened again to reveal the audience on their feet.
Justin appeared from stage left and joined his actors. The crowd clapped loudly again, applauding the writer and director. As a play, it had ticked all the boxes. Joey Sloane, the kind-hearted king of the Chicago Mafia, betrayed by his protégé Jimmy. Elise, his faithful wife, succumbing to Jimmy’s charms and breaking hearts in the process.
‘Speech! Speech!’ called no one in particular.
Justin held up his hands for silence and the noise gradually faded away. His handsome face was triumphant as he viewed the enraptured faces below him.
‘Thank you, thank you,’ he said in his commanding voice. ‘We’re overwhelmed by this response. Thank you all for coming here this evening.’
More cheers.
‘This play would not have been possible without this wonderful set of actors up here with me.’ He held up Paul and Ray’s hands. ‘My King Arthur and his Launcelot! Ray Rossi and Paul Lewis!’ He pulled both men forward and the crowd went wild, cheering and clapping. ‘And of course, my Guinevere: Aurora Sinclair!’ He wrapped his arm around her waist and stepped forward. She stared at the faces below her, all beaming and smiling.
‘Wonderful!’ called Henry. ‘You were wonderful!’ He raised his hands over his head, clapping madly.
She blew him a kiss. It had gone well, she could feel it. Joey’s death scene hadn’t left a dry eye in the house. The noise was deafening and she bowed gracefully. People were stamping their feet and shouting.
‘Thank you!’ said Justin, backing away. ‘Thank you.’ He nodded at the stagehand to bring down the curtains once more. The old red drapes closed slowly and the applauding crowd disappeared.
Aurora took a deep breath. It had been a success. All the hard work had paid off.
‘You were incredible,’ said Justin in her ear. ‘Incredible.’
He kissed her neck lightly and she shivered. She didn’t know if it was the adrenaline, but she wanted him to pull her into his arms. She pressed closer to him and he stiffened. Squeezing her waist, he walked off in the direction of the stage door.
Paul took off his hat and slapped Ray’s back. ‘Great show, old man.’
Ray Rossi grinned. ‘I should punch you in the jaw for sleeping with my wife.’
Aurora felt like she was floating. There was a sense of real accomplishment after all the hard work. If there were critics in the audience, and she was pretty sure that there were, surely they would be impressed. Her performance had been flawless, she was sure. Everything had turned out exactly as she had planned. Maybe she would never reproduce acting like that again but, if she was going to get it right, then opening night was the time to do it.
Her dressing room was filled with flowers. She gasped in delight. A huge bunch of red roses took centre stage; she knew immediately that Henry had sent them. Marianne had delivered a colourful bouquet with lilies and irises and there were dozens of other arrangements from family and friends. She took a seat in front of her mirror and sighed. The make-up she had caked on earlier had served its purpose. There were just slight blemishes from the glaring lights
.
She released her hair from its wig and let it fall down her back. Taking a wipe, she started to remove the heavy foundation on her face. Wipe after wipe was discarded as her skin slowly regained its natural glow. Next to come off were her gloves and then her beads. She slipped the beaded flapper dress over her head and stared at herself in the mirror. The white silk slip she had on under the dress clung to her curves and her eyes looked huge with smudges of black underneath. She felt like Elise Sloane: the sultry temptress who had bewitched Jimmy Romano.
Her thoughts drifted to Justin. Maybe this would be the night. She had never felt closer to him. The only thing that niggled her was that he blew hot and cold. He made the effort to come to her birthday and had propositioned her to go upstairs. Yes, he had been drunk, but in vino veritas, right? Since then, they’d had the odd embrace or moment, but nothing else. He had been a saint around her. Maybe it was because of the play. He was under pressure and probably didn’t want to run the risk of any drama.
There was a knock at the door. She grabbed her violet robe and wrapped it around her body. Opening the door, she was confronted with a tall man in a suit. His sandy-coloured hair was falling over his eye and his ruddy complexion was flushed.
‘Sinclair?’
She stared at him in confusion. Then she focused in on his eyes. She knew those eyes.
‘Freddie?’ she whispered. ‘Freddie Thompson?’
He held out his arms and she fell into them.
‘Oh Freddie!’ she cried, holding him close. ‘Why are you here?’
He pulled back and gazed at her. ‘Maggie gave me ’er ticket, she did. Told me I should come up ’ere and see you. It’s been so long.’
‘It’s so good to see you!’ She held his hand in hers. ‘How is Maggie?’
Freddie smiled. ‘She’s in great form,’ he said genuinely. ‘She ’as a little garden now and she grows ’er own vegetables. She sends ’er love.’
Aurora gestured for him to come in and take a seat.
He stared at all the flowers around the room. ‘Wowee, you’re a popular lady!’
She laughed. ‘It’s always the same on opening night. After that, not one bloom.’
Blushing, he pulled a battered-looking rose from inside his jacket. ‘I brought you this from the rose garden at the big house.’ He put it in her hand. ‘Mr ’Enry always plucked a rose from the same bush for your mother.’
‘Oh, Freddie, I love it.’ She clutched it to her chest. ‘A real gift from home.’
‘You still call it ’ome?’ He looked dubious. ‘We never see you no more, Sinclair. You must come down.’
She frowned slightly, manifesting the guilt she felt deep inside. Like anything unpleasant, if you didn’t think about it, it faded into the background. However, Freddie was now calling her on it and she felt uncomfortable. He was right of course. It was disgraceful how she had left her old life behind.
He squeezed her hand tightly. ‘Look, I didn’t come ’ere to make you feel bad.’ His eyes were kind. ‘I’ve been so busy with college and all that, I’ve barely been back myself.’
‘How are your parents?’
‘Dad is slowin’ down and ’ee wants me to take over the runnin’ of the farm. I got ideas for that place. I think we should go organic but ’ee laughs when I say it.’ He grinned. ‘Not very progressive, old Conny Thompson.’
‘How’s Susie?’
‘She got married to some Chemistry professor and she’s almost finished her PHD. She lives in Bath all the time now. I visit when I can.’
Aurora smiled. ‘Remember all those tapes she gave me? I would listen to them over and over, singing all the songs.’
‘Why didn’t you sing tonight? I kept expecting it.’
She shrugged. ‘I’ve only been acting so far. Singing has never been required. I don’t think Justin likes musicals anyway.’
‘Justin?’
‘My director.’ She reddened at the sound of his name.
‘Are you two –?’ He nudged her playfully.
‘God, no.’ She shook her head furiously. ‘Not at all.’
Freddie gave her a sly look. ‘What is it you theatre folk say – “The lady doth protest too much?” Or somethin’ like that?’
Aurora laughed: a sweet melodious sound. ‘You’re funny.’ She took his hand in hers once more. ‘Are you staying nearby? Would you like to come for a drink?’
‘I booked into a ’otel but I gotta go soon. I ’ave to leave early so I’m back in time to feed the pigs.’
‘Oh.’ She tried to mask her disappointment. ‘That’s a shame.’
‘Visit me when you come back ’ome,’ he said softly. ‘You were so good tonight, Sinclair. I cried a little.’
‘You did?’ She laughed. ‘Oh Freddie, you softie.’
‘Come and see us,’ he said again. ‘We miss you.’ He stood up. ‘Until we meet again.’
At the door he turned on his heel and she watched his broad back disappear into the darkness.
Closing the door, her face broke into a smile. Freddie Thompson. All grown up. He looked fit and healthy, just like a man who spent his life outdoors. She couldn’t believe how tall he had become. Especially as Conny, his father, was so small. The rose he had brought was lying on her dressing table: a flower from her old life. She opened a bottle of Evian and emptied half its contents down the sink. Then she inserted the rose into the neck of the bottle. She would preserve it as long as possible.
Her phone beeped over and over but she didn’t check it. She knew it was message after message, congratulating her on her success. The outfit she had chosen for the after-party was a black chiffon knee-length dress. It had a scooped neckline and layers of floaty material creating a full skirt that fell to below the knee. She slithered into it and tied the zip. Her heels were waiting in the corner but she delayed putting them on. Instead, she walked barefoot around the room, mentally going through her performance and breathing a sigh of relief. She had been nervous and it took a while for that to dissipate.
Suddenly the door opened and Justin strode in. ‘Aurora! Look who’s here to meet you!’ Coming in behind him was the famous actor Albert Wells, Justin’s uncle. He was dressed in a blue suit with a purple cravat and his grey hair was tousled. The famous blue eyes crinkled when he smiled and his booming voice resonated around the room.
‘Aurora Sinclair! A pleasure.’ He took her hand and kissed it lightly. ‘You, my dear, are a revelation. Are you married?’
‘What?’ She glanced at Justin in bewilderment. ‘Married? No, I’m not.’
‘Then marry me,’ he said playfully, kissing her hand again. ‘You’re just exquisite.’
Aurora blushed a deep red. She didn’t know what to say. Here, in front of her, was a famous actor of the silver screen. He had been in countless box-office hits and he even had two Oscars. He looked smaller in real life, but then all actors did. He took her hand in his and she noticed a gold signet ring on his pinkie.
‘You’re the image of your mother, my dear,’ he said, gazing at her. ‘I knew Grace in the old days. She was a lady.’
‘You knew my mother?’ She was drawn to him immediately. She loved to hear about Grace. Henry didn’t reveal much about her personality, so her memory was like the portrait that hung in the main drawing room: cold and inanimate.
‘Well, we were both struggling actors in the eighties. She was such a star, my dear. Not only could she act but she had a voice like an angel. Andrew had great plans for her.’
‘Andrew?’
‘Lloyd Webber, of course.’ He smiled. ‘She was so versatile, you see. Then, she disappeared. At the peak of her career, she moved back to Ireland, leaving it all behind.’ His face fell. ‘I admire her in one sense. You know, for staying true to her craft and not selling out. One could argue that I did the opposite.’ Then he brightened again. ‘Then again, standing on the podium with an Academy Award is pretty damn great as well.’ He kissed her hand again. ‘You are just delectable, Ms. Sin
clair. Let’s have a passionate affair!’
‘Back off, Bertie,’ said Justin, pulling him back. ‘Give her a chance to come down. We all need to get back to reality.’
‘I know exactly what you mean, old boy,’ said Bertie, nodding. ‘All one wants to do is retire to a quiet room and mull over one’s performance.’ He winked at her. ‘You have made it tonight, my dear. I saw at least two of the harshest critics in London wiping away tears when you had Joey dying in your arms.’
Aurora blushed again. ‘I wouldn’t dream . . .’
‘No need to dream any longer. It’s up and up from now on. For you and my nephew.’
Justin grabbed his arm. ‘We should leave Aurora to it.’ He kissed her cheek lightly.
‘I will see you later, won’t I?’ she said, suddenly vulnerable.
Justin paused for a moment, then grasped her shoulders and stared into her eyes.
She felt the ground give away.
‘You’re guaranteed that. We need to talk about every moment.’
She relaxed slightly. He understood. She didn’t want to see anyone but him. Only he could talk about her performance in the detail that she desired.
‘Will there be a party?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m not too enthused about a noisy get-together but we’ll see.’
Bertie clapped his hands. ‘Then you must come to my place! We can drink champagne and relax without crowds and pressure.’
Justin looked at Aurora. ‘Would you like that?’
She nodded in delight. Champagne at Albert Wells’ house? It was like a movie in itself. A quiet get-together was exactly what she needed.
He left and the door opened again almost immediately. Ophelia’s head appeared, her red curls bouncing.
‘Can I come in?’ she asked. ‘I just saw lover boy walking off with Bertie Wells. Handy to have an A-list uncle, isn’t it?’
Aurora nodded. ‘Bertie seems really nice.’
‘You look pretty,’ said Ophelia fingering the light material of her dress. ‘Is there a party later?’
‘Bertie has invited us over for champagne. Pretty low-key, I think. I just want some peace and quiet.’ She could feel the tiredness invading her body. She had been gearing up for this all week and now that it was over everything just seemed to crash.