One Summer's Night

by One Summer's Night (retail) (epub)

  The effect of having been in Jonathan’s arms had stilled and calmed Kelsey. She didn’t even want to entertain the bewildered thoughts at the back of her mind about what that clandestine embrace had meant. Instead she walked down the steps making some notes in her book.

  ‘All right… so… balcony scene. Got it.’ Tapping the pen against her bottom lip as Jonathan watched her through dark shades, she thought through her assignment. I’ll get some shots from the back of the audience if they’re all going to be clustered around the steps. I might need a chair to stand on though.

  ‘Next up, someone’s doing a sonnet reading from that little hill over there, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy and I’d have to kill you if I told you who it is. OK, you win, it’s Patrick Stewart,’ Jonathan blurted out with a sudden hearty laugh.

  ‘Oh my God, he’s a legend! My brother will kill me if I don’t get a photo with the Star Trek guy.’

  All around the garden, Kelsey scribbled her notes as Jonathan talked her through the schedule, revealing surprise after theatrical surprise. He led her onwards towards a huge yew hedge that was formed in the shape of a hollow box with one wall missing so you could step right inside and discover a garden bench against the deep, far wall. The yew was thick, forming a solid shelter-like structure, so solid in fact, that barely any light passed through it at all, and it was noticeably cooler inside. It was just high enough for Jonathan to stand upright in, though his hair brushed the red-berry-speckled branches above him.

  ‘This is our Midsummer Night’s Dream space. We’re going to light it up inside with Christmas lights. Let me see, what else? We’ll take out this bench and we’re bringing in our swinging bower from the show – you know, the one you saw on the stage? It’ll just fit inside. We’re going to cover it in real wild flowers and… uh… green stuff?’ Jonathan shrugged.

  ‘Ah yes, green stuff. I see.’ Kelsey’s eyes sparkled as she pretended to note this down.

  ‘Hey, I’m an actor, not a botanist,’ he drawled.

  Jonathan lowered his rangy frame onto the bench deep at the back of the bower and Kelsey threw herself down beside him, smiling. Jonathan’s legs stretched out before him, his ankles crossed. There it was, that effervescent feeling again. Maybe we can be friends. This doesn’t feel all that bad. Kelsey looked up above them at the thin green needled leaves and the red jelly-like berries, like tiny pitted olives.

  ‘You know yew berries are poisonous?’ she stated, matter-of-factly. ‘Back in Shakespeare’s day they only planted them inside enclosed land, like churchyards, to protect grazing cattle from eating them.’

  ‘Yeah? Is that another one of your tour stories?’

  ‘Certainly is. You’re dealing with a professional here, you know,’ she answered primly, indicating the name badge on her work shirt with a wink.

  Letting their laughter settle into smiles, the pair sat still and silent, until Jonathan gently nudged her arm and spoke in a low murmur.

  ‘I always feel real comfortable with you, Kelsey. You’re great to talk with… or just… sit with, even. Sometimes on tour I get kinda lonely, but you…’ He shrugged his broad shoulders, nodding to himself, and letting his thoughts take over.

  Kelsey suppressed a sigh, thinking of Jonathan’s devotion to Peony. She would not like him saying these things to her, but Kelsey found them exhilarating. Why couldn’t I feel like this with Will? Or Fran, for that matter? Or anybody that’s actually bleeding single? Kelsey cast a furtive glance at Jonathan who seemed lost in thought. Someone had to break the silence.

  ‘So… you’re doing a scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream in here… with Peony?’

  ‘Mmm, that’s right. Hey, how’s… um… how’s Will doing?’

  ‘Oh, he’s fine thanks. Same as always, really,’ she said with a shrug.

  The light dimmed in his eyes. ‘Come on. I’d better show you where you’re doing your living picture thing.’

  She followed him over the sun-drenched lawn to a round, paved area. It was nothing more than a circle of flat grey paving stones, speckled with dry yellow lichen and about fifteen feet across.

  ‘You mean the tableau vivant,’ Kelsey attempted a Gallic flourish with a sly laugh.

  ‘Yeah, the tableau whatever it is. It’s the last performance of the evening, the big finale. So no pressure or anything.’ The wink he gave her cast little crinkles at the side of his nose. Kelsey looked away.

  ‘The finale? How do I get myself involved in this mad stuff?’

  ‘It’ll be great. Some of the crew from Dream are supposed to be setting up its curtain rigging next week. It’s on a huge loop kinda thing supported by poles in the earth. The whole curtain will enclose all you guys, then it will be lowered to the ground, the musicians will start to play music behind you… it’ll be awesome. You’ll be perfect.’

  Kelsey was nodding and making the occasional ‘uh-huh’ sound but, thinking about how she wanted to kill Norma Arden for getting her inveigled in this damned thing, she wasn’t taking in one word. Jonathan talked on.

  ‘You’ll be lit by spotlights. Can you see they’ve already rigged them in the chestnut tree over there? No, over there, by those stone things.’

  He directed Kelsey’s glazed stare over to a set of squat, square stones sunk into the lawn in a star pattern a couple of metres wide.

  ‘The Nine Men’s Morris, you mean?’

  ‘Nine men’s what now?’

  They spent the next half an hour leaning over the stones as Kelsey explained that it was a giant game, a sort of mixture of chequers and noughts-and-crosses. He let her guide him as they moved their black and white pebble playing pieces around the stone stations, it quickly becoming clear that Jonathan was winning. But their fun was to be curtailed.

  Too soon Jonathan was called away by a technician to help set up the lighting for his bower scene with Peony. He kissed Kelsey politely on the cheek and, with a dramatic low bow and a daft smile, wished her good night.

  ‘I let you win that one, Jonathan,’ she called to him as he walked away.

  ‘Sore loser? I’ll give you a rematch if you like.’ He grinned over his shoulder with a quick wink.

  As Kelsey walked home that evening she couldn’t help smiling at the thousand memories she was processing. If this is what friendship with Jonathan Hathaway felt like, this would have to suffice. She could try to ignore the dull ache in her chest if it meant she got to hold on to memories of his smile, his goofy sense of humour, his passion for Shakespeare, and the hard, blazing-hot feel of his body as he hugged her.

  She pulled her work rota from her satchel. It would be five days before she was due to meet him again in the knot garden, and she was already wishing the hours away. There would be ten demanding tour groups in the interim and some sleepless night too, but the whirligig of time wound on.

  Chapter Thirty

  ‘But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?’

  (As You Like It)

  Days later, checking her mail before heading out for her early morning swim at the local baths, Kelsey found three items in her compartment. One a plain white envelope, the second a large manila padded package, and the other, a postcard from Edinburgh with a picture of the statue of Greyfriars Bobby – the loyal Skye Terrier who wouldn’t leave his master’s grave unattended. People came from the other side of the world to pat the dog’s head, just as Kelsey did each time she passed it on its Edinburgh street corner. She read the postcard as she walked out of St Ninian’s into the cool of the morning.

  Hey you, how are things? Did you get back on that horse like your Auntie Mirr said? Hope so! Looking forward to hearing all about it. As promised, I’ll be back in town for some amateur dramatics on the 30th. Train gets in at 6, so I’ll come straight to the gala. You know I got a hotel room this time? See you in two Shakes(peares). Hugs, Mirr.

  Shoving the postcard and the unopened letter into her satchel, Kelsey remarked under her breath, ‘She’s really coming. Good old Mirren. I knew sh
e wouldn’t let me do the scene with Peony by myself.’

  With her hands free to rip open the seal of the big envelope, she found inside the 35mm films she’d ordered for the gala shoot. OK, now I have everything I need for my first public commission.

  Her plan was to start the evening using her old camera and then switch to digital as it got darker and harder to gauge light levels. Lost in imagining herself drifting unnoticed through the theatrical in-crowd, surreptitiously snapping candid shots of all the celebs, by the time she arrived at the pool, she had entirely forgotten the unopened letter in her bag.

  After swimming, the day was a busy one. Kelsey expertly guided her two tour groups around town, fitting in a quick lunch with Myrtle and Valeria in the back of the ticket barge, while Gianfranco manned the ticket desk.

  ‘Did you hear Will’s on his way back to town? Nobody knows how his try out went, but if it was good news, wouldn’t we be the first to know?’ Myrtle wondered.

  Kelsey worked hard to show only collegial interest in Will’s whereabouts.

  ‘If he didn’t get the part, he’s going to need some serious ego massage when he gets back,’ Myrtle joked.

  Kelsey bit into her sandwich nonchalantly, part of her wondering if she’d imagined Valeria casting a wide-eyed warning at her girlfriend. They can’t possibly know what happened after Norma’s engagement bash, can they?

  That afternoon, her copy of the Sonnets stuffed with tips in dollars and sterling, Kelsey watched the coach pull away from the riverside as she waved off the noisy rabble inside. She’d count through the notes when she got home tonight. Right now, she was in a rush to meet Jonathan at the knot garden for another shift setting up the gala.

  As she walked down the quieter back streets she loosened her plaits, letting her hair fall in thick, tight waves down her back. Her summer in the sun had lightened its darker streaks to a burnished gold, even turning the softer baby hairs around her temples to a pure white. Slicking on lip gloss and unknotting the neckerchief, she calculated that if she walked in through the back doors of the town’s big chemist’s she could grab a free spritz of perfume on her way through to the front, and it would also take her in the direction of the knot garden. So she did exactly that, choosing a simple rose scent from a granny-chic bottle. OK, now I’m ready.

  Passing into the orchard she instantly spotted Jonathan bent over the long planting troughs that ran along in front of the yew tree bower. His ancient-looking faded grey Led Zeppelin T-shirt clung tightly across his broad shoulders. She watched from afar as he delved his hands into an open bag of compost, his frame hot and sweating from the exertion of setting up the performance spaces all afternoon. He’d be on stage again later this evening so Kelsey knew she had to make the most of her brief time with him.

  He looked up with a broad smile and a friendly ‘Hey!’ before handing her a trowel. They set to work planting the earth with strawberries.

  ‘These’ll separate the performance area from the spectators’ area on the lawn,’ he said as he worked. The afternoon heat was building into a sticky closeness and Jonathan’s brow glistened. He looked tired. Kelsey didn’t mention it but she knew it must be exhausting doing two or three shows a day and rushing around setting up for the gala too.

  They weren’t the only ones pulling double shifts today. All across the garden there were actors, technicians, artists, directors, and seamstresses from the companies that were visiting town for the summer, all setting up their own spaces. The gala director from the main theatre company, who Kelsey knew only from their phone conversation about the shoot, was drifting between each group of workers amiably overseeing the whole thing, bringing his vision to life.

  ‘So are you ready for your big night?’ asked Jonathan with a smile, as he stopped to rest, sitting back on the lawn.

  ‘I think so. I never properly thanked you for telling the director about my photos. You know, you really pushed me to try it out… you and my friend Mirren and my mum, and I’m grateful. I got a new camera and everything.’

  ‘Awesome! I’m glad you’re going for it. So, is this what you’re going to do come fall?’

  ‘I hope so.’ She looked thoughtful for a second. ‘If I go home, I could try to rent out Mr McLennan’s old shop – he’s my old boss.’ Even as she said it aloud, she wondered why the thought hadn’t occurred to her before, but it didn’t appeal to her quite as much as the idea of simply staying put in Stratford and living in her beautiful little box room of a flat. ‘To be truthful, I wish I could stay here and work from home. I’ve just extended my rent for another month so I can be in town for my boss’s wedding,’ she went on, while setting an upturned strawberry plant loose from its pot and planting it firmly in the soft earth. ‘I have this gorgeous little terrace up on the roof above my room. It’s weird because nobody ever uses it, just me. In fact I’ve never even met my neighbours. I think the flats next to mine are empty, I haven’t heard a peep from either of them.’

  ‘Could you rent one of those, turn it into a studio? Then you’d have the shortest commute of all time?’ Jonathan’s voice lifted with its lovely upwards inflection. It made everything he said sound so full of inquisitive wonder. ‘You’d wake up, fall out of bed, and mosey into the next room to work.’ Jonathan had stopped working altogether. He sat cross-legged with his arms out behind him supporting his weight, directing his full attention at Kelsey.

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’ Kelsey entertained the notion for a moment. ‘Meanwhile, you’ll be commuting from here across the Atlantic, then from Canada to… where? LA?’

  ‘Yeah, I guess,’ he shrugged, smiling through thinned, blanched lips. ‘But… I am coming back to Stratford, you know?’ He shifted his weight, bringing him closer to Kelsey, his voice, rich, deep and tentative.

  ‘You’re coming back?’ Kelsey struggled to contain the sensation that rushed up her spinal column making her scalp hot and tingly. She stared at him in amazement.

  ‘I’ll be back with the whole company for a few days at Christmas to block out our new play for the Willow Studio next year. And I’ll be back again in February for the actual run. I’ll be in town for the whole of the spring season. We just signed the contract today.’

  Delivering this news, and Kelsey’s obvious delight, made his smile beam brightly and his eyes shine. Kelsey tried to slow her heart’s wild drumming, barely able to hear her own voice over the racket it made in her ears. Clearing her throat, she managed an exaggeratedly casual, ‘Uh… wow… so… what play is it?’

  ‘Love’s Labour’s Lost. Do you know it?’

  ‘Do I know it? I just finished reading it! It’s so good. What part are you playing?’

  And so they went on talking theatre as the heat built and a summer storm gathered in the hills surrounding the town. Jonathan was amazed to learn about Kelsey’s English and theatre history degrees and wondered aloud that she’d been too modest to tell him sooner. He talked about how, come the spring, he’d be playing Berowne, a king, who’s trying to swear off women completely and devote himself to his work.

  ‘Is Peony in it?’ Kelsey had eventually asked, knowing what the answer would be, and, yes, of course, she was going to be the queen, Berowne’s love match. Naturally. Who else?

  The revelation cooled the connection between them as Kelsey withdrew slightly, feeling abashed. It was a timely reminder of her banishment to the friend zone. The planters were now beautifully arranged with strawberry plants and they had spread straw thinly underneath them to keep the berries from touching the soil.

  Feeling the change in mood, Jonathan said, ‘I gotta go warm up soon, or rather, cool down, before tonight’s Dream. I’m usually at the studio a lot earlier than this.’ But he didn’t look like a man in a hurry to leave.

  ‘I have some water, if you like?’ Kelsey was already unbuckling her satchel and handing him a bottle. As she did so, the films, Mirren’s postcard, and the unopened letter spilled out onto the grass beside her. Distractedly, gathering up her belongings, she w
atched Jonathan tip his head back and drink the water, long and slow, his shining throat moving as he satisfied his thirst. As she took him in, she ran her finger absent-mindedly through the fold of the envelope and pulled a single sheet of paper out. Finally, looking down, expecting a letter from Mirren or her mum, she found unfamiliar, neat handwriting.

  How’s things, Ms Kelsey Anderson? Hope you finally shook off that hangover. I’ll be back in town for the gala night. The producers here are still making up their minds about me. It’s a toss-up between me and some double-barrelled Oxbridger. I’d really like to pick up where we left off before you fell into a coma. So save the last dance for me on the 30th.

  Doubt thou the stars are fire,

  Doubt that the sun doth move,

  Doubt truth to be a liar,

  But never doubt I love.

  Yours, Will

  She looked blankly at the note. Is he quoting Hamlet at me? My God, is this an actual love letter? Kelsey knew she was meant to be thrilled, but she was left cold. Hmm, isn’t a declaration of love supposed to inspire… something in a girl? Maybe he’s taking the piss and it’s just Will being playful?

  She was roused from her confusion by Jonathan getting to his feet. Quickly slipping the note back into her satchel her cheeks burned crimson red.

  ‘I’d better make tracks,’ Jonathan drawled. ‘Thanks for the water. I won’t be at your dress rehearsal since it’s just you gals, but I’ll see you on the night.’

  ‘OK.’ Kelsey struggled to her feet, hoping he would kiss her forehead again, like last time, but he was already stepping away from her, throwing the leather gardening gloves off onto the grass. Why did I have to open that stupid letter? Did he notice? Will’s the last person I want butting in right now!

  ‘Coo-ee!’ called a shrill voice from over by the main house.

  OK, he’s the second last person I want butting in.