Jonathan turned for a second. ‘Those are Peony’s, I never get flowers opening week, except from my mom, but Peony seems to pick up admirers wherever she goes.’
Kelsey cocked her head, scrutinising him for hints of jealousy, but he was simply smiling.
‘Wait there a second, I’ll clear some of this junk,’ he told her, passing through a curtain with a sign above it marked ‘Auditorium.’
Jonathan reappeared a few seconds later, his arms filled with bundled sheets and a tray of white paint and a roller brush. ‘Nearly done.’ He passed through the curtain again.
Kelsey glanced back at the dressing tables. Peony’s mirror was surrounded with photographs of her with the rest of the cast, all grinning and playing up for the camera. Her heart stilled a little as she spotted the close-up picture of Jonathan planting a kiss on Peony’s cheek, his eyes screwed tightly closed. The photo was crumpled and torn round the edges, obviously an old, treasured item that had adorned many a dressing room of Peony’s. Kelsey’s heart sank but she couldn’t drag her eyes from it. They looked so happy, and that happiness somehow cancelled out a little of Kelsey’s new-found contentment.
She heard the scrape of furniture behind the curtain and called out to ask if Jonathan needed any help.
‘Just a second,’ he reassured her.
The jutting edge of Kelsey’s camera bag caught some cards on a low shelf, knocking them to the floor. She stooped to gather them up and looked at the images on the front, all wishing the actors luck and broken legs. One of them however, sported a cartoon picture of two jars; one a grinning peanut butter, the other a bashful, blushing pink jelly. Kelsey flipped it open.
Here’s to another triumphant season for PB and J. Love you forever x
Kelsey shrugged. Some actors’ in-joke, she guessed, and replaced the cards. At that moment Jonathan reached a hand through the curtain, followed by his grinning face. ‘Ready?’
She nodded, taking his hand and ascending the steps into the cramped backstage area just beyond the curtain, cluttered with various bits of scenery and props. Her nose prickled with the smell of fresh paint and the dust burning on the spotlights. Just beyond the mess, she was greeted by a sight that took her breath away.
The house lights were down, the stalls in darkness, but the stage was glowing with coloured light in a dappled, leafy effect. A night-time woodland landscape painted on thin chiffon was draped across the back wall, and centre stage stood an old-fashioned garden swing seat, just big enough for two, swathed in billowing white material and forest flowers.
‘Wow!’ Kelsey exclaimed, lowering her camera bag to her side.
‘Neat, isn’t it? It’s Titania’s fairy bower where she seduces poor old Bottom the Weaver?’ Kelsey remembered the lovely lilting lift at the end of his sentences and knew he wasn’t asking her if she knew who Bottom was.
The auditorium was empty and silent except for Jonathan’s deep drawling voice, even deeper than she remembered.
‘Speaking of Titania, isn’t Peony joining us?’ Kelsey asked, hopeful he would say ‘no’.
‘Peony? No, she’s doing her final costume fitting.’
Kelsey made her way across the stage and down the steps into the stalls. Turning round she gazed in wonder at the bright stage and Jonathan at its centre, resplendent in the light. She couldn’t help thinking how handsome he was in his dark jeans over black baseball boots and the untucked white shirt that was crumpled where he’d pushed up the sleeves. His bed-head hair was mussed up but he was cleanly shaven, showing off his strong square jaw.
‘This light is lovely,’ she cooed, tearing her eyes from him, a little dazed. ‘So, um… when’s your opening night?’
‘Monday,’ he replied, sitting down on the bower seat, making it swing a little. ‘I’m beginning to get the jitters.’
‘Monday? That’s Midsummer, isn’t it? Was that intentional?’
Jonathan shrugged with a ‘no idea’ gesture.
Her eyes lit up as she remembered a tale she’d heard recently. ‘I was reading somewhere that if you make a wish on Midsummer’s night it’s supposed to come true before the year’s out.’
‘You don’t say? Then I’m going to make a wish just before I go on stage that I won’t blank and forget my lines all season.’
Kelsey recognised the thrill of nervousness pass through his body in spite of his smile.
‘You’ll be perfect, I’m sure you will,’ she said soothingly. ‘The stage is set… do you feel ready for opening night?’
‘I will, come Monday. Once I’m up here, actually doing it. I just suffer from first night nerves.’
‘It shows you care about doing a good job, doesn’t it?’ Crouching down, Kelsey unpacked her camera. ‘You know, I was nervous coming to meet you today? I really want to get some perfect shots for you.’
‘Well, I’m ready when you are. What do you want me to do?’
Feeling instantly calmer as she raised the camera to her eye, she was back in her favourite place, behind the lens. ‘Do you mind sitting on the edge of the stage for me?’
She watched as he lifted his long, agile body down onto the boards of the stage. ‘That’s it, just swing your legs over the side. OK, that’s better.’ Kelsey approached the stage coming to stand just a few inches from his spread knees.
Gazing through the lens gave her the luxury of really being able to drink him in: his skin, his parted lips, and his broad torso. He planted his palms flat on the stage behind him supporting his weight as he leaned back a little, relaxing his shoulders, lean and muscular under his shirt. Jonathan looked straight down the lens.
‘OK. These are true head shots. They’ll be very sharp and expressive. Oh, and this is a black and white film, so they’ll be really classic-looking with lots of contrast between the light on your face and the darker stage behind you.’
To prepare for each shot, Kelsey turned the focussing ring on the long lens, bringing Jonathan’s features into crystal clarity. Without a tripod to steady the camera she took a series of long slow breaths, letting the last breath out very slowly, bringing down her heart rate and stopping her hands shaking before she pressed the shutter button. The flash fired brightly, illuminating Jonathan’s face for a split second as the handsome vision in Kelsey’s viewfinder seared itself in chemical reaction onto the exposed film.
‘These will be beautiful,’ she said, transfixed. Kelsey was getting absorbed in the camera work, thinking about the light and shutter speed, the aperture, and the intensity of the flash. Keeping her eye to the camera she made the most of Jonathan’s intense, brooding expression. His pupils were dilated and his pale blue-grey irises shone, reflecting a billion light particles. Firing shot after shot, she didn’t ever want to stop. This felt like bliss. Winding the film on, she felt the familiar stubborn pull of the end of the roll.
‘Thirty-six shots already? That went fast. I need to change rolls, but I’m pretty sure we got it.’
Changing the film did nothing to break the strange, dreamy feeling of the shoot. Seemingly dazed too, Jonathan lowered his body off the stage, coming to a stop in front of her.
‘That was incredible,’ he said, running a hand through his hair, his eyes still fixed intensely on Kelsey as his pale lips curled into a hazy smile, revealing the tips of his perfect teeth.
‘I know,’ she said in wonder, looking up at his face.
‘Thanks so much for doing this, it’s so nice of you. How do I pay you?’ His voice was slow and sleepy as he spoke.
‘Pay me? Tickets to your play are more than enough payment, and it’s not like this is my job or anything.’ She laughed lightly, her own pupils dilating as she felt Jonathan’s shirt sleeve brush her arm.
‘Let me take you to dinner then?’ He was smiling with genuine warmth, showing a tiny indentation on his chin which she hadn’t noticed before, just a hint of a dimple which softened his defined bone structure. A strong impulse overcame her. Stepping forward onto her tiptoes she tentatively raised he
r hand to the tiny hollow spot.
‘I love this little dimple.’
Jonathan was grinning now, raising his fingertips to join Kelsey’s below his lips before reaching out and stroking her cheeks. ‘You have some too you know, here and here.’
His butterfly light touch stirred her breath. She felt the tiny hairs on her skin lifting and had to strive hard to form words through the electricity connecting them.
He spoke on in a low drawl. ‘Shakespeare said that dimples were a sign of where Cupid had placed a kiss on a newborn baby so he’d always have somewhere safe to curl up and sleep. I reckon it was Shakespeare, anyway. I’ve forgotten.’
Jonathan’s eyes settled on her lips, his brow contracting, suddenly serious. Sweeping his fingertips under her chin he raised her mouth to his. Kelsey closed her eyes for the kiss.
But instead of the promised slow, languorous connection, she felt Jonathan jerk back as the lights in the auditorium suddenly flared up, drowning them in glaring white light, leaving them squinting and shading their eyes with their hands. Kelsey’s heart sank as she heard the voice over the speakers.
‘Jonny. You’re wanted in the technician’s booth.’
It was Peony. Jonathan chewed his lip in what looked like stern frustration. Kelsey strained her eyes against the dazzling lights coming from the back of the stalls. There was Jonathan’s co-star, all dressed in her white gossamer stage costume and looking like an angel – well, a livid angel – standing behind glass in the booth, leaning over a microphone with her balled fists pressed into her hips.
‘I guess I shouldn’t keep her waiting.’ He still had his fingertips extended out, resting on Kelsey’s arm, but the harsh lights and annoyance in Peony’s voice had short-circuited the connection between them. He took a lingering look across Kelsey’s face and neck, shaking his head slowly in frustration.
‘I’d better go… I’ll see you at the show, I hope? Just let the box office know which performance you want to come to.’
Kelsey nodded, putting the film in its canister.
‘I’ll get these developed right away and send you the proofs. It might be a week or two.’
‘Jon, I’m waiting,’ Peony announced again.
Jonathan hastily showed Kelsey out into the street. The clouds must have closed in over Stratford while they’d been absorbed with one another in the studio. The sky was dark and the intense heat of the approaching storm hung in the air.
‘I’m so sorry. She can be one serious prima donna, but I guess we do still have a lot of work to do before we open. I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?’ There was apologetic regret in his voice, and something else. Guilt? If so, was it guilt for cutting short the shoot, or for letting himself get wrapped up in it and almost kissing her?
‘Sure. See you,’ Kelsey said, bewildered, as he closed the door upon her.
Turning to walk away, her whole body sang with the thrill of the unsatisfied tension between them and the memory of his eyes fixed upon hers. As she walked home, searching through her contacts on her phone, she clicked ‘call’ and, getting no answer, left a desperate voicemail.
‘OK, Mirren! You have got to get here soon. This place is enough to make a girl mad! Seriously, get your train tickets.’
As she turned the key in the lock at Number One, St Ninian’s Close, the clouds let their heavy burden fall. Huge raindrops plashed onto the dusty tarmac, forming dark spots. They grew heavier and heavier until the earth heaved a slow sigh, cooling off after the raging heat of early summer.
Closing the door behind her, Kelsey took a last look at the pouring rain, listening to the thunder rumbling in the distance, making the earth shake as if it were about to be rent apart. An electric pulse of desire shook her body at the memory of Jonathan’s fingertips on her skin. She had never experienced anything like it, not with Fran, not with anyone. But the feeling was tainted with restraint.
She had no intention of coming between Peony and Jonathan, just as she had no intention of sharing a man with anyone. Whatever was going on there, they had their own stuff to work through and it would be easier on Jonathan if Kelsey was out of the picture. She obviously got under Peony’s skin, and no wonder; there was an undeniable magnetism between Kelsey and Jonathan, something chemical, something magical.
* * *
Back in the darkened theatre, Peony sat in the empty stalls. Jonathan was nowhere to be seen, and she was crying inconsolably, hugging her knees to her chest, her heart breaking.
The lightning storm fractured the skies above Stratford as life in the busy town paused momentarily for the downpour.
Chapter Nineteen
‘The storm is up, and all is on the hazard’
(Julius Caesar)
The rain poured in torrents over the next few days. Tour groups were cancelling at the last minute leaving Kelsey at a loose end on dark, dreary days. Taking the opportunity to FaceTime her mum, catching her between appointments one morning, Kelsey’s heart swelled to see her face.
‘How have you been, sweetheart?’ Mari asked.
‘Great, thanks. There’s so much going on. I’m getting the hang of the tours now, and I got my first pay packet which is always nice. And, I, um… I did a photo shoot at the weekend, for one of the actors.’
‘Kelsey, that’s wonderful! Good for you. Who’s the actor? Anyone famous? Was it that Kenneth Branagh? I like him!’
‘You won’t know him, he’s a theatre actor in an American touring company.’
‘And is he still in town?’
Kelsey detected the change in tone, the hint of teasing in her mum’s voice and the sparkle in her eye. ‘Yup, they’re here all summer for the big festival of plays.’
‘That’s nice. And have you, um… spoken to Francis at all?’
Kelsey swallowed. ‘Not yet. He texted, but when I rang him back, he didn’t pick up.’ She knew this sounded feeble and that she could have tried much harder to get in contact.
‘I’m sure you’ll reach each other, eventually. It’s been a fortnight since you left, love. The summer’s flying in, isn’t it?’
Kelsey let this pass with a silent nod and a twinge of burning anxiety. She knew what her mum was getting at. She owed Fran a call.
‘So are you doing any more photo shoots? Or… meeting your actor friend again, what was his name?’
‘Jonathan. I doubt it. He’ll be busy.’ With his girlfriend.
Kelsey thought it best to change the subject at that point. She didn’t want her mum worrying that she was already mixed up with some new bloke when she didn’t have the courage to even talk to Fran. It was easier to chat about the weather, and all the sci-fi conventions Calum was planning to drag Mari to over the summer.
‘Make sure you take every opportunity to enjoy yourself, sweetheart, that’s what I’d be doing if I were you,’ Mari said before they ended the chat.
The familiarity of her mum’s placid, cheerful face helped comfort her as the rain pounded down on the pavements outside, and she resolved not to waste these unexpected days off, no matter the weather. Mari was right; there were still adventures to be had.
Taking her umbrella and camera with her she followed the canals as far as she felt safe into the lush, overblown greenery of the surrounding countryside, and sat in cafés for hours at a time, working her way through overpriced cappuccinos. She’d finished reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream, adoring its strange plot in which the fairy folk trick and confuse the hapless mortals in the wood. Finding herself hooked on Shakespeare’s comedies, she’d spent hours in the antiquarian bookshop looking for her next play, at last picking Love’s Labour’s Lost from the shelves. To her delight, she found it was about a bunch of flashy, clever blokes who virtuously swear off women to concentrate on their studies, only to be thrown among some seriously tempting ladies. The plot made her laugh, the poetry made her sigh, and it helped pass the rainy hours.
Meeting up with the other guides for lunch or a drizzling stroll around the marina, Kelsey became
aware of Will’s conspicuous absence. The whispered gossip from Gianfranco was that he’d gone down to London for a big acting audition and he didn’t want any of the other guides to know, which instantly piqued Kelsey’s interest. Just how important is this role exactly? Gianfranco had grinned mischievously as he passed on the news and Kelsey wondered how long it would remain a secret. She hadn’t had sweet, quiet Gianfranco down as a lover of gossip. It’s always the quiet ones, she mused, taking a mental note not to tell Gianfranco anything about Will’s flirting with her in case the details made their way around the agency.
Will’s absence didn’t bother Kelsey too much, but there was something dragging her down; a strange, unsettled feeling ever since the photo shoot. She reluctantly admitted to herself she was scanning the streets hoping for a glimpse of the tall, handsome American who’d made her feel so interesting and capable and talented. He was ensconced at the studio, of course, with Peony.
How can you miss someone you barely know? That’s ridiculous, right?
There was nothing else for it but to order yet another muffin, swallow down the sad feelings, turn another page of her play, and try to distract herself.
Fran still hadn’t been in touch and she found herself wondering where he was and what he was doing. Was he busy networking at the teachers’ conference, finally getting recognition for being the ambitious, hardworking man that he was? She missed him, but mostly, she hoped he was happy and not missing her too much.
Making the most of her agency discount, she splashed out, buying tickets for all the plays running in the main houses, seeing the evening performances back to back over the course of the long, wet week, loving every second of them.
There was the jealous and brooding Othello taking poor, innocent Desdemona’s life. Kelsey had inwardly raged at the stupidity of the man and the vindictiveness of Iago who’d told him Desdemona was a cheat. It had been nearly impossible to sit still. She’d wanted to shout out, ‘Don’t be a twat, Othello, she clearly loves you! That Iago’s a spineless prick, don’t listen to him.’ But she sat there fidgeting and getting cross instead.
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