Mari was calling to her through the panicked cacophony. ‘Kelsey! Kelsey, are you still there? Just breathe. You can do this. Start with this one job and you can conquer the rest of the world another day. Get your equipment together and go to that theatre shoot and enjoy it, OK? Now… can I send you any money, to get you started, I mean?’
Now Kelsey really wanted to cry. ‘No thanks, Mum. I’ve got a little bit of what was the flat deposit left in the bank. Thank you… for everything. I’d best go get on with some research into digital cameras and stuff then. Give my love to everyone back home.’
‘Don’t worry, love, about anything, and good luck. Something tells me you’re going to be fabulous.’
‘I’m glad somebody thinks so,’ Kelsey said to herself as she hung up the phone, and then remembered instantly that there was someone else who believed in her, enough to get her a second photography commission. How she wished she could ring Jonathan to thank him again, and this time she’d be kinder. Although, she told herself, once he’d done as he was asked and passed on the director’s message he probably hadn’t given her a second thought.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‘Lust’s winter comes ere summer half be done’
(Venus and Adonis)
Where are you, Kelsey Anderson?
Kelsey swatted away the buzzing text alert, keeping her head hidden snugly under the pillow. The late afternoon sun beat down through the lace curtains casting its orange glow in filigree patterns over Kelsey’s sleeping body.
Seriously, are you injured or dying? Do I need to break into your flat and perform CPR on you?
Another text. It was Will.
She made the Herculean effort to drag herself out of bed and type her reply.
I’m sleeping. What is it?
Rubbing her eyes, she watched the little rippling dots that said he was typing his reply. There on the floor by the bed among the bubble wrap – all now satisfactorily popped, of course – lay her new digital camera. Her busy morning was coming back to her through the dreamy haze.
Taking full advantage of her first day off since Mirren’s visit a week ago, she’d trawled the internet on her phone looking for cameras in the summer sales, spotting a deal on a digital SLR with a decent wide-angle lens, as well as a tablet she could wirelessly upload photos to. That morning, she’d raced to the huge electronics store near the Bullring shopping centre where a really helpful and offensively young sales assistant had carefully explained some of the functions to her.
Spending so much money in one morning had left her slightly queasy, but she’d had the last of her share of the flat deposit just sitting in the bank and it felt good to redirect it towards her new enterprise. She fought back the nerves by holding on to Mirren’s advice, the day they had picnicked by the river on their Cotswolds tour. This was an investment. An investment in a future she didn’t really have mapped out clearly, but these felt like the first brave, and expensive, steps in the right direction. The whole shopping trip had taken so much out of her, she’d spent the afternoon sleeping.
Will’s text pinged onto her screen.
We’re all at the Yorick celebrating the upcoming wedding of the year. Get yourself down here, Kelsey Anderson, or I’m coming round to drag you out of your tartan nightie.
Certain by now there were no neighbours occupying the flats either side of her own, Kelsey screamed, jumping up on the bed, squeaking the springs. ‘Norma’s accepted Gianfranco’s proposal!’
She could be there in ten minutes if she splashed some water on her face, brushed her teeth, threw on a simple grey dress over her white T-shirt, and hurriedly laced up her Converse. No need for make-up or anything else with her tour guide family. Within moments she was on the pavement, her new digital camera swinging on its black strap across her body.
Bursting through the doors of the pub and pushing her way to the inglenook where she knew they’d all be, Kelsey headed straight for Norma, throwing her arms around her neck. ‘Congratulations!’ she squealed excitedly.
Norma, for once, was quiet. Kissing Kelsey on the cheek she blushed. ‘Thank you, dear.’
Gianfranco was by Norma’s side, rosy-cheeked and grinning widely. Kelsey teetered on her tiptoes to hug him. The whole team was assembled. Lukas was squeezed into the far corner seat inside the inglenook nursing a nearly empty cider glass and Myrtle and Valeria were sitting opposite him, very close together and beaming at the happy couple.
‘Hello, beautiful,’ said Will in a low voice from behind Kelsey’s back, nudging her arm as he jostled past, carrying a huge bottle of bubbly in an ice bucket hugged close to his body and six champagne flutes clutched miraculously by their stems between his fingers.
As Kelsey was busy rescuing the glasses one at a time from his precarious grip, she leaned in towards Will and impulsively kissed him on the cheek. She suddenly felt so very pleased to see him. ‘Long time, no see. Where have you been, Will?’
As the chattering group half-watched Will peel the golden foil from the cork, he surreptitiously leaned close to her ear and spoke in a low monotone. ‘Oh, you know: auditions, open calls, Bristol, Manchester, you name it. I even got a call back for a film in London, but no luck, unfortunately. Anyway, now’s not the time for licking wounds. I’ll tell you later.’
Even when crestfallen and defeated, Will looked like a movie star. His lovely dark auburn hair had grown over the summer and was now skimming his jawline, and a much longer set of recently manscaped sideburns jutted across his cheekbones, making them even more well-defined than they had seemed before. Kelsey appraised him slyly as he worked the bottle open. She wasn’t used to seeing him out of uniform. As usual, his dark sunglasses were perched on top of his head, but tonight he was wearing dark jeans and a slim khaki T-shirt that was tucked in only at the front, revealing a glimpse of leather belt.
Something in his demeanour suggested that the summer of rejection – from the auditions, but maybe also from her – had cowed him a little. He had certainly needed to rein in his ego, but now that his spark was dimmed she felt sorry for it; he’d lost the cockiness that had ignited her brief crush on him.
‘That is a shame, sorry, Will.’ Having placed her hand gently on his arm, she hastily withdrew it at the sensation of his muscles tightening at her touch. He looked flustered for a brief moment. Kelsey tried to laugh it away. ‘You’re not blushing, are you, Will?’ she teased, as he met her eyes and expertly eased the cork from the bottle to the loud cheer of their happy circle.
Soon, they were all squeezed around and inside the inglenook, laughing and chatting and toasting the bride and groom to be. Kelsey arranged the group taking lots of shots, amazed at how liberating the new camera felt. She didn’t have to count the number of photographs she took, worried that she’d reach the end of an expensive roll of film too soon if she wasn’t economical and judicious with the shutter button. Instead, she clicked away, shot after shot, and there were her pictures, showing up instantaneously on the clear, bright screen, hers to keep or dispose of with the press of a button. ‘I could seriously get used to this,’ she remarked to no one in particular.
It felt thrilling to see her handiwork there and then without having to wait days or even weeks for film developing and mail delivery. And the lighting was so easy, the flash just did its own thing automatically, capturing perfectly lit image after image.
When Kelsey had finished she sat down with a happy sigh on the pub stool next to Will, who immediately refilled her glass to the brim.
‘Cheers,’ he said, raising his glass to hers and taking a long drink, all the while looking into her eyes.
It was apparent there was something on his mind that he was building up to saying. Kelsey took an appreciative sip of bubbly and waited.
‘So, how are things going with Laurence Olivier?’
Genuinely perplexed for a second, she cocked her head. ‘Who? Oh, Jonathan? Now, don’t be mean.’ There was a warning tone in her voice, and she added with a weariness th
at she couldn’t suppress, ‘He’s nowhere to be seen, I’m afraid. It turns out I interrupted something pretty complicated with his co-star Peony.’
Will nodded slowly and looked genuinely sorry as he mouthed a long, ‘Oh!’ before adding with suspicion, ‘Hold on, you mean he’s with that gorgeous American bird? The one that plays Titania? I’d never have guessed, they had zero chemistry when I saw them.’
‘You saw his play?’
‘Of course, I see everything that comes to town.’
‘Hmm,’ Kelsey mused. ‘Well, whatever’s going on with those two, I’m just glad nothing actually happened, and I didn’t make a complete fool of myself in front of the entire town.’ She tipped her head back, downing the champagne. ‘Fill it up again, Will. I’m in the mood for drowning sorrows.’
‘I might just join you.’ He filled both their glasses. ‘This theatre life isn’t as easy as you think. I felt sure by now I’d be in a leading role, but here I am, tour guiding for the eighth summer running.’
‘Eight years? Wow! You must be sad to see Norma leaving town.’
Hearing her name mentioned, Norma’s ears pricked up. ‘What’s that, my dear?’ she called out from only a few feet away, but still using the top of her voice.
‘I said we’ll all be sorry to see you go. I can’t believe you’re getting married, selling your business, and sailing off into the sunset all at once.’
‘I know, lucky old me. I can’t quite believe it either.’ Norma beamed, turning her head to meet Gianfranco’s gaze. The two looked into each other’s eyes like teenagers before Norma snapped out of her trance, turning her hawk-like eyes back to Kelsey.
‘But, I’m not selling up, darling, I’m closing up. There are plenty of other tour agencies around and with the downturn in tourists coming from Europe and the States, I doubt I’ll be missed. All the offices are closing: Oxford, Bath, London, Cambridge, Windsor, the lot. Did you know I employ thirty-seven people?’
‘We’re all going to miss you terribly, Norma. And you too, Gianfranco.’
‘Oh, darling,’ Norma replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘You young people will all be off on your adventures again by the end of the summer, you don’t need me or the agency.’
Kelsey felt like throwing herself across the table and wrapping herself in an octopus grip round Norma’s waist, screaming, ‘But I do need you! I really bloody do. Don’t leave, I don’t want to go home.’ But instead, she looked down at the bubbles popping in her glass.
Norma leaned across the table and whispered in a surprisingly hushed voice, ‘Worry not, little one. Summer’s not over yet. I’m sure it has plenty more surprises in store for Kelsey Anderson.’ And with a wink and a pat on her hand Norma turned back to her fiancé and the loud chatter of the rest of the group.
Feeling strangely removed from the noisy, jovial scene all of a sudden, Kelsey took a moment to look around at her summer family, unaware that Will was watching her and smiling affectionately by her side. Everyone was joined in one joyful accord of celebration. Gianfranco was making Lukas howl with laughter at some barely audible story he was telling, and Valeria and Myrtle were whispering to each other and holding hands tightly across their thighs. That’s when it struck Kelsey for the first time. Turning to Will she whispered, ‘Oh my God, they’re a couple too? How could I not have known?’
Will laughed, shaking his head. ‘Oh, come on, woman! You really are hopeless. They’ve been together for years. You really cannot see what’s going on right in front of your nose, can you?’
Kelsey was about to agree with a self-effacing laugh when she noticed the earnest look in Will’s eyes. He stared straight at her, willing her to understand. Hurriedly reaching for the bottle she spoke in a slightly higher than usual voice, ‘More champagne anyone?’
* * *
Just as she had downed enough bubbly to entertain the idea that Will resembled a long-haired Prince Harry, though even posher, if that were possible, Kelsey realised that she might actually be very drunk indeed. The bell rang out from the bar as she attempted to stand up and found her legs wobbled beneath her, making her laugh to herself.
‘Right, I’m off to my ivory tower. Night all. And congratulations again, Georma… I mean… Norma and Gianfranco.’ Oh shit, I’m pissed.
Norma was at Kelsey’s side in an instant. ‘Goodnight, my dear. Get straight home now. No dawdling, yes?’ Norma pointed a red fingernail into Kelsey’s arm, her authority slightly diminished by the collection of multi-coloured cocktail umbrellas sticking out of her skew-whiff scarlet bob. ‘Are you sure you’ll be safe walking home alone with your fancy new camera equipment?’
Will, who had been shaking hands and saying goodnight to the gang, sidled over. ‘Don’t worry, Norma, I’ll escort her safely to her door.’
‘Hmm, yes. Good, good,’ their boss replied. She leaned close to Kelsey and spoke as quietly as she could manage. ‘You know, Kelsey, it’s a shame you’re planning on leaving town. I’d feel so much happier going to Italy if I knew my Stratford properties were in safe hands.’
Kelsey squinted drunkenly at Norma and replied with a baffled laugh. ‘Safe hands? Me? What would I do with an office, or a ticket barge for that matter?’
Rolling her eyes, Norma delivered a smudged lipstick kiss to Kelsey’s forehead in what she possibly conceived of as being a motherly way, but to Kelsey, in her dizzy state, felt more like the touch of a fairy godmother’s wand. ‘Goodnight, dearie,’ Norma said, as Kelsey and Will staggered towards the door, giggling at the realisation that they were as unsteady on their feet as each other.
Out in the street Will held out a crooked arm, pulling a stoic, gentlemanly face, inviting Kelsey to loop her arm through his, which she did, giggling at his comical expression and the lovely old-fashioned gesture.
‘You don’t have to walk me home, honestly, I’m fine. A few breaths of fresh air and I’ll be as sober as a judge.’
‘I don’t think I can let go now without falling into the gutter,’ Will replied, with a hooting laugh.
‘I’ve never seen you tipsy before. You’re a lot sillier and funnier than usual. Do you need a few drinks to shake off that too cool for school vibe you’ve got going on?’ Kelsey was laughing, her eyes barely open.
‘You can talk. You’re a regular ice queen, Kelzey Anderzon,’ Will slurred.
Laughing wildly, the pair stopped to steady themselves against the tall, dark glass windows of the Willow Studio. The evening performance was just letting out, and the street was suddenly filled with people. Will leaned against Kelsey for support. ‘This is ridiculous. We’re as bad as each other. What kind of chaperone am I supposed to be?’ he said, removing his arm from her grip and placing it around her shoulders, kissing her softly on the temple, which she accepted with the blissful smile of the closing-time drunk.
They didn’t notice Peony behind the dark glass posing for pictures with members of the audience and signing programmes. But she saw them. Her eyes narrowed, sharp, and brooding.
The pair staggered to the end of the road before making the turning up the long lane to Kelsey’s house. She could just see Shakespeare’s house with its flag flying high above it and the row of gleaming Victorian lamps forming an avenue outside it. They walked on until they were in the quiet residential street leading to St Ninian’s Close, well away from the tourist centre and shops.
With no word of warning, Will suddenly stopped dead, pulling Kelsey to a halt outside the porch of a smart terrace. Leaning back against one of its posts to get his balance, smiling all the while, he brought Kelsey in towards his body, his hands around her hips. Kelsey’s head was spinning so much that she needed to rest her forehead against Will’s broad, hard chest in the hope that the world would stop moving around her.
‘Kelsey?’ His low voice carried to her across see-sawing horizons. ‘Did I mention how ravishingly sexy you look this evening?’
Kelsey dragged her head off Will’s chest to look into his face. Amused, she
slurred her reply. ‘What? In my crumpled clothes and no make-up?’
‘You always look hot as hell, Kelsey, to me.’
Still struggling to bring Will’s face into focus, Kelsey became aware that it was getting closer to hers, much closer. Her mind was completely still as their lips touched. The alcohol had silenced any reservations she might have had about getting involved with Will, and their first touch burned intensely through her body as she let herself be kissed, standing limply, leaning into Will. For all the champagne he’d downed he now seemed strong and steady, absorbing her weight into his.
Kelsey was aware of her hands making their way, without her express permission, up towards his biceps which were solid and full of flexing, moving knots. She waited for the explosion, the moment when lips gently touching turned into ravenous kisses and searching hands and breathless gasps. But it didn’t happen. The alcohol had numbed all her nerves and she just couldn’t feel it. Or maybe something else just wasn’t right?
Pulling away from Will’s tight embrace, she tried to fix her wildly telescoping gaze on his, by now, perplexed, frustrated expression. The world spun cruelly around her and nothing was still. Then, inch by inch, her vision faded to black. As though through deep underwater currents she heard a shocked cry of, ‘Jesus, Kelsey!’ as her knees weakened. Will’s arms slipped around her, lifting her off her buckling legs. She drifted in and out of sleep, dreaming of her dad carrying her back to her own little bed in the middle of the night after she’d sneaked across the landing and climbed into her parents’ big cosy bed. The sensation was exactly the same; that of flying through the air, cradled close against a warm chest, safe and peaceful.
The delightful sensation was cut short as she felt the world’s axis suddenly rotate with a sickening gyre. She was being put down onto her own two unsteady feet while Will worked her key in the lock, still supporting her with a muscular arm around her waist.
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