Chapter Fifteen
‘Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?’
(As You Like It)
Spotting the café hadn’t been difficult. Even from the other side of the marina and over the busy crossroads its candy-pink and white stripy awning was strikingly bright. Trying to run without looking like she was running, Kelsey zigzagged through the thronging crowds, her eye firmly on the prize, that single empty chair, and what might be the only available lunch spot in town.
Nearly there. Still free, it’s still free. Yes, winner!
At the exact moment she threw herself down onto the seat under a Barbie pink parasol, making a celebratory fist-pump, her hip clashed painfully with a tall, firm body travelling from the opposite direction. They had both been aiming for the same spot in the shade.
Kelsey gasped, regretting the fist-pump and springing to her feet again. ‘I’m so sorry! Please, you take it.’ She looked up into the man’s discomfited face. He too had leapt from the seat at the first touch of their bodies.
‘No, I’m sorry. Are you OK? Did I hurt you?’ His strong American accent told Kelsey he was another sightseer.
‘I’m fine, honestly,’ she replied, rubbing her achy hip and finding the pain melting away under the tall stranger’s concerned scrutiny. ‘I wasn’t looking where I was going, too busy thinking about my rumbling tummy.’ Smiling apologetically, she hoped he would laugh.
His serious expression appeared to be relaxing, when a woman wearing a pink gingham headscarf dashed over to them and parked a folding chair behind the man’s knees.
‘Here we are,’ she flustered. ‘Sorry about that. Ketchup spillage. It needed a good wash down out the back. Menu’s on the table. I’ll be back to take your order in a second.’
With that, she bustled off, leaving Kelsey unsure what to say. They looked at each other, mouthing exasperated half-words until the tall American broke out into actual speech.
‘Uh, hi… I’m Jonathan. Are you, uh, meeting someone or…?’ Still embarrassed from the crash, he gesticulated as though he were ready to leave should Kelsey say the word, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot and he looked pretty reluctant to go.
With a casual wave of her hand, Kelsey dismissed the idea. ‘No, I’m alone. Sit down. Please?’
As she spoke she found her accent coming out strongly in response to his kind, open face and deep, dreamy voice. She drew in the contested chair and settled down again, all the while looking up at the poor guy.
‘I didn’t catch your name. Did I say I was Jonathan?’
Kelsey laughed gently. ‘Yes, you did, and I’m Kelsey. Are you on holiday, I mean, vacation?’
He looked calmer as he settled himself in the chair, his long body relaxing at last. Kelsey was suddenly struck by the pale blue, almost grey, eyes that frankly met her own. Surrounded by the overblown pink of the café décor, they shone out. His mouth twitched into a small smile at the corners.
‘Actually I’m here to work. I’m in a play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream?’ He said it like a question which momentarily confused her.
Does he think I might not have heard of A Midsummer Night’s Dream?
With a jolt of recognition, Kelsey realised he was with the touring company she’d read about back home.
‘You’re with that American theatre group? You’re here for the summer, right? For the festival of plays? I was reading about it online. I was going to try to get tickets to see it.’
At that he broke into an incredible American smile, the tips of his pearl-white teeth just showing under his curling pale lips and setting off his healthy tanned skin. She’d never seen a face so transformed by a smile and was taken aback by how arresting it was. Did that surprise show on her face? Hastily, she pressed on to cover it up.
‘So, what role are you playing?’
‘I’m Oberon, King of the Fairy Kingdom?’
It was beginning to dawn on Kelsey that this guy finished his sentences with an upward inflection that sounded like a question, but wasn’t. That, combined with his deep voice and that accent, drew Kelsey’s gaze towards his enticing mouth. He was slow-burn handsome and she was beginning to feel it.
‘Anyway, Kelsey, what about you? Are you a local?’
‘I wish. Though, I suppose I am, just for the summer. I’m a tour guide, hence the… whatever this thing is.’ Pulling sharply at the burgundy and green neckerchief she made a face and his ready laughter surprised her. She watched as his bright eyes moved down to her throat and lingered there for a second before flashing back up to hold her gaze.
‘So, you’re having a summer adventure too. Sounds nice. But you’re not English? I’m detecting an accent?’
He leaned in closer, placing an elbow on the table and absent-mindedly rubbing his fingertips on the nape of his neck and through his short, mussed-up, brown hair. She was enjoying his slow, sonorous voice and the intense way he was looking at her. He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say.
‘I’m from a little seaside village near Edinburgh. What about you?’ She threw his question back, unconsciously mirroring his movements by leaning one elbow on the table, resting her jaw on a soft fist.
‘Edinburgh? We toured there last summer. It’s an amazing place.’ He stopped talking briefly, seemingly just to smile again, before he continued. ‘Oh… I’m from Tulsa, Oklahoma. Haven’t been home in a long time! Man! I love your accent, it’s so beautiful.’
Leaning back as he spoke, he stretched out his broad shoulders, his long frame obviously getting uncomfortable on the flimsy café chair. For a second Kelsey just watched him. She liked the way he moved his body, it was like nobody she’d ever seen before. Of course, he was an actor; he’d probably taken movement classes and workshopped all his lovely, loose gestures, and by the looks of things he worked out a little bit too. His pale blue plaid shirt looked as though it had been washed a thousand times, its soft, thin fabric lightly cladding his rangy musculature. His collar buttons were undone and Kelsey found herself glimpsing time and again at his throat and the slightest stubble on his jaw which jutted forward just a little bit. Realising in the silence that she had to say something and quick, she searched her mind for words, only half aware that her new acquaintance was simply studying her face too, watching the summer breeze shifting the soft wisps of her wild hair.
The words formed slowly in Kelsey’s mouth. ‘So… I’m starting to think that hardly anybody was actually born in this town. It’s like it’s full of arty nomads, just drifting in for the season.’
Jonathan nodded his head towards the camera she’d just placed on the table between them.
‘You might be right. It looks to me as though you’re actually a photographer.’
Before Kelsey could answer, the waitress was back again holding her order pad, her pen poised. They hadn’t even looked at their menus and they both smiled in acknowledgement of how distracted they’d been in one another’s company. They quickly scanned the salads, both choosing the same dressed baby leaves, stilton, walnut, and apple with sparkling orange juice.
Over their unhurried meal Kelsey, told Jonathan all about the camera shop and how her precious Canon AE-1 had belonged to her late father and how, years ago, when she was a student she’d had her photos exhibited in a gallery. Jonathan listened closely with genuine sympathy in his eyes, mixed with deep admiration for her passion.
‘You know, if you’re looking for a commission, I could really use some new head shots? I haven’t had any taken in years.’
Kelsey felt her heart swelling. He thinks I’m a photographer. An actual professional. ‘I could, I mean, I’d love to. I just don’t have any reflectors or anything. We’d have to improvise a bit.’
‘Sounds good to me. We could use some of the theatre lighting? When are you free? I’ve got rehearsals and tech all weekend and next week through Friday. How about next Saturday morning?’
What the hell, say yes. Kelsey couldn’t resist the idea of spending more time w
ith this sweet guy and she’d be doing her favourite thing. ‘Week on Saturday? That’s my first proper day off… so, yes. I’ll look forward to it.’
She handed him her phone and watched him type his number carefully. He smiled as he passed it back and asked her to check that it worked, trying to sound casual.
Thinking of all the times she’d watched Mirren give over-enthusiastic blokes in nightclubs the wrong phone number trying to shake them off after an ill-advised snog, Kelsey clicked ‘call’ and heard the phone in his shirt pocket ringing.
‘There, now I’ve got your number.’ He grinned, looking a little flushed. ‘Meet me at the Willow Studio, that’s where the play is. It’s just over there by the Yorick?’
‘OK, great. Ten o’clock?’
Jonathan didn’t get a chance to answer. A tall, willowy woman with long flowing brown hair appeared suddenly over Jonathan’s shoulder. She was stunningly beautiful even though she was scowling.
‘Jonny, I’ve been hollering up and down the riverside for you. Did you get my Smartwater? And my vitamins? Come on, the first tech starts in two minutes.’
She ignored Kelsey, focussing all her energy on the startled Jonathan, who looked at his watch then back to Kelsey apologetically, running a hand through his hair, but his voice was calm and kind when he replied.
‘I totally lost track of time. Peony, this is Kelsey. She’s a photographer.’
Kelsey felt herself blushing at this. She attempted a smile and was about to confess she was nothing of the sort but the pretty, angry woman wasn’t interested in pleasantries. She was tapping her foot, her arms folded. ‘That’s nice,’ she said hurriedly, keeping her eyes on him. ‘Let’s go, hon. We need to run through the first half.’
Jonathan looked reluctant to move from the shady seat in the pink café. He was still set on making polite introductions, seemingly unfazed by Peony’s brusqueness.
‘Peony is my… Titania,’ he offered.
Kelsey could really see this Peony as the Queen of the Fairies. She was the perfect match for Jonathan’s King Oberon. She was tall and lithe with long elegant limbs. They both had the same healthy tan and super-white teeth. Kelsey was aware of an uneasy sinking feeling in her stomach, the unwilling acceptance that she’d really liked this gorgeous man and hadn’t read his signals correctly. Jonathan was slipping a twenty-pound note under his plate and standing up to leave.
‘It was great to meet you, Kelsey. See you real soon for those head shots?’ He looked intently into her eyes, the same grave attentiveness on his face that he’d had in the moments after they’d crashed into each other.
Kelsey watched them go, unsure of what had just happened. Had she come between two lovers? He’d been chatting to her with so much interest and charm. Was that just his friendly Oklahoma ways? Why was Peony so angry? Whatever it was, he was sweet and gentle and she had liked the feel of his eyes on her, and now she had a photography commission.
Kelsey didn’t budge from her shady spot for the rest of the afternoon. She’d spotted homemade lemon meringue pie on the menu and it was so good she’d stayed for two slices with iced coffee. After a couple of hours spent memorising facts from Norma’s information booklets, she realised she was no longer absorbing the information as well as she could, so she settled into reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream, all the more interested in the strange, magical romance now that she had a picture of Oberon in her mind; tall, slim, and handsome with a smile that made you melt. She pictured Jonathan’s lovely curling lips and square jaw moving, delivering the lines in his dreamy low voice. After a while, she admitted to herself that she had outstayed her welcome at the busy little café in the hope that Jonathan might rush back for a coffee mid-rehearsal.
Just as she was leaving, she felt a sudden impulse to look back. Raising the camera to her eye, she focused her viewfinder on the two empty chairs by the little pink table in the shade and let the shutter snap. Walking away, she didn’t quite know why she’d done it.
Chapter Sixteen
‘You have witchcraft in your lips’
(Henry V)
It had gone five o’clock as Kelsey stuffed the newly acquired postcards and stamps into her satchel and bounded up the stone steps of the Yorick. The guides were already assembled inside the olde worlde pub. Will stood by the bar with Norma and Gianfranco, and Valeria and Myrtle were ensconced with another uniformed guide – Kelsey guessed he must be Lukas – inside the biggest fireplace Kelsey had ever seen. They were perched on stone seats cut deep into the huge chimneybreast like a cosy cavern. There obviously hadn’t been a lit fire in there for years and all the brickwork had been painted a gleaming white. Kelsey stooped her head underneath the high oak beam garlanded with dried hop flowers that served as a mantelpiece and lowered herself onto the empty spot beside Lukas. Valeria poured her out a large class of cider from a brown earthenware jug.
Lukas was only twenty-one and very easy to talk with. She discovered he was a student and spoke his native Russian, as well as German, French and, of course, perfect English. He told her he was now studying Latin.
‘I guess when you’re fluent in all the living languages, you have to move onto the dead ones, right?’ Kelsey joked, making Lukas chuckle.
The tourists had arrived and were checking in with Will for the pub crawl. He was putting everyone at ease as he chatted among the group, taking care to memorise their names – another one of his clever tour-guide techniques. Kelsey was struggling to remember the names of the other guides, let alone the group of thirty tourists who were now filling the bar ready for the long evening tour ahead.
‘So, what do I need to do tonight?’ Kelsey asked Lukas as she sipped the warm cider.
‘Just follow Will and Myrtle. They’ll do most of the talking. You must help Valeria and I to herd the drunk tourists, making sure we do not lose anyone,’ he said in his wonderful thick accent.
‘I can do that. How many pubs do we visit?’
‘Only six. One drink in each. Will and Myrtle recite some poetry at each one and tell a little history. Norma likes all her guides to work on the Crawl. Safe in the numbers, yes? We are allowed to enjoy a drink or two as well, so long as we don’t go overboard.’
‘I can imagine it gets a bit messy. There’ll be a few drunk stragglers, I guess?’
Across the crowded bar, a brassy chime rang out. A space cleared revealing Will holding a bell. He was preparing to make a speech, his chest swelling.
‘My friends, welcome aboard the Norma Arden Historic Tour Agency Bard Crawl.’
The whole gathering broke out into restrained applause.
‘My name is Will Greville. There will be much merry-making and ale-drinking tonight. You all have your route maps, but please keep me and my colleague, the wonderful Myrtle Hardcastle, in sight. I’ll be taking a headcount in and out of each pub, so fear not, we won’t let you lose yourselves. We’re all meeting as strangers this evening, but let us end the night as friends. My namesake, the great Will Shakespeare said that good company, good wine, and good welcome can make good people. So, without further ado, let’s put that theory to the test. Here’s to a very good night indeed with exceptionally good people.’
Will raised his glass in toast to the crowd who were very much enjoying his speech. Kelsey shook her head at Valeria and rolled her eyes.
‘He’s a bit hammy isn’t he?’
‘Will doesn’t do subtle,’ Valeria said with a chuckle as they all began to shuffle their way out into the warm summer evening, Will Greville’s peacock feather bobbing above his head at the front of the merry group.
By nine o’clock Kelsey had enjoyed two glasses of cider and switched to cola two pubs back, but she was still feeling giddy as she mingled with the red-cheeked tourists. Some of them asked her questions about Shakespeare and the town which, to her surprise, she found she could answer, and if she was unclear on any of the finer points, Lukas and Valeria were on hand to help her out.
Will was entertaining two very b
eautiful young women out in the beer garden at the back of the pub that had long ago, Kelsey was horrified to learn, been used for bear fighting. Kelsey could just make out the back of Will’s head through the garden doors. He was talking very loudly and acting out comic scenes from the plays, deeply enjoying his starring role in his one-man show. Kelsey didn’t mind; she’d enjoyed getting to know the other guides a little better, except for Gianfranco who had disappeared with Norma a couple of hours ago.
‘Aren’t we off the clock now, guys? The tour’s overrun a bit. When can we head home, I’m exhausted?’ Kelsey said, hopping off the bar stool.
‘You can’t leave yet. You haven’t seen Will’s grand finale,’ Valeria exclaimed.
Kelsey pulled a puzzled face, intrigued.
Valeria laughed. ‘You’ll see.’
Will was on the move again, like a posh Pied Piper, the peacock feather bending under the doorframe of the pub as he strode outside. The trail of tourists was now very long and slow, some of them having a little difficulty keeping up. Kelsey joined Will at the front of the group.
‘Are you enjoying the tour, Kelsey?’ he asked. She nodded in assent, gazing up into the cloudless sapphire sky. The stars were twinkling overhead, and the town was falling quiet as Will led the group to a spot on its very edges.
‘Where on earth are you taking us?’ Kelsey wondered aloud, as they came to the end of a very tall neatly clipped hedgerow.
He stopped suddenly, indicating an arched wooden door interrupting the hedge. Will swung the door open dramatically, allowing Kelsey to lead the way into a dark garden surrounded by high yew trees and the ivy-clad grey stone of a gothic-looking house. In the gloaming light, Kelsey could just make out long meandering flower beds all around and a shimmering pond in the middle distance. There were a few lanterns hanging on hooks here and there lighting their path across the neat lawn towards some trestle tables with two big plastic boxes filled with ice on top, the slender necks of green bottles just visible above the ice.
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