At the terminus, she went down the stairs leading to the Central Line and boarded the Tube. As usual, even late morning, when many commuters were already at their desks, the packed carriages were claustrophobic. On the escalator, she took care not to hold the handrail, she hated the handrail; it always looked icky, and standing on the right, allowed rushing travellers to pass. She emerged from the underground, blinking in the bright, autumnal, midday sun, fished shades out of her pocket, pulled up the handle of her wheeled bag, and made her way to the theatre. As usual, the roads were choked with vehicles, a buzzing cacophony of congestion.
‘So much for the Congestion Charge,’ muttered Summer under her breath. ‘The only thing that’s bang to rights about that two-part description is the latter.’
It didn’t matter that her lips were moving over words as she made her way along because most passers-by appeared wrapped in their own conversations, either with each other or into various mobile devices. Some seemed invisible, small earphones being the only indication of their existence.
‘Most likely talking to themselves too,’ said Summer aloud.
Chapter Thirteen
‘You look like shit.’
‘Thanks, you’re not the first person to say that this week.’
‘Shall I make us some tea? What’s going on? Spill it.’
‘There’s a man... there was a man,’ started Lizzie, tears threatening.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake, what happened? You didn’t let some creep pop your cherry and piss off? You were saving yourself, that’s what you said.’
‘All right. Don’t rub it in, it’s bad enough.’
‘Fuck! You’re not pregnant, are you?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You don’t think so. What the fuck sort of answer is that?’
‘No... Well... I’ve been sick, but I’m all churned up.’
‘Who is it? Someone you met at that temp job?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me about it then, don’t make me ask twenty questions.’
‘He’s older than me, he lives in Australia, and he’s only over for a few months.’
‘And...’
‘I love him, I really love him, but I found out that he’s just a player, just likes to run around.’
‘Stay there, I’ll put the kettle on, and you must tell me everything. All the gories.’
‘I think that’s all... I don’t think I’ve left anything out,’ said Lizzie, a short while later. ‘What do you think?’
‘For one thing, your sister is going to go garrity if she finds out about Scott. Goodness knows she’ll flip.’
‘I know.’
‘Green is a nasty piece of work. Don’t ever let him get you alone again. He’s grim. I can’t believe you heard him out without at least giving Scott a chance to explain.’
‘You think I’m wrong about Scott?’
‘Well, you haven’t given him a fair hearing, have you? You got on well with him, had a good time, he was good to you. Okay, so he’s older than you, and he took your virginity, but you should be mature enough to work all that stuff out, and you wanted him, now you say you love him, and yet you haven’t even called him to ask what’s going on.’
‘But he hasn’t been in touch at all, not since the night I met Charlie after work.’
‘Hmm, that’s strange. Don’t you think that’s strange?’
‘Well, I guess, but I know Sara and Phil have been trying to contact him before he leaves for Australia and they haven’t heard anything either.’
‘Maybe he’s gone already. Aw, Lizzie, don’t start crying again. Look, there’s an opening at the theatre, nothing much, just helping out front of house. I’ll put a word in. Why don’t you think about it? Take your mind off things, have a break, have some fun and earn a little money at the same time?’
‘What about university? I’ve accepted a place.’
‘I reckon you should defer, have a gap year. Your family will understand, and in any case with Anton being up already, it’ll give them a breather. It’s expensive, and you’ll be able to save a little. I think it’s a win/win.’
‘Can I stay at your flat on work days?’
‘Of course, we’ll have some fun, and it’ll do you good to untie the apron strings. After all, you’re not a little untried miss anymore.’
‘Oh, Summer, I love him.’
‘Well, we’ll see about that later. One thing at a time, first we need to sort out the short-term fix, we’ll worry about the rest another day. We’ll worry about that tomorrow. You know, like Scarlett O’Hara.’
Chapter Fourteen
Green sat at his desk composing an email. His outer shell, stunningly handsome, concealed a seething core, a Picture of Dorian Gray, well hidden, but festering within him, swelling, blackening, growing under his skin, until the written lance of release allowed the fetid pus of envy, spite and hatred to explode in an ecstasy of prose. Satisfied with the wording he pressed send. Sara Michaels’s details had been easy to find, she had left so many messages for Scott it was a cinch. Nothing to lose, blackballed by the Michaels family for whatever reason, he’d not let them off lightly. He copied Scott Worth in for good measure.
‘Bet Worth isn’t the only one of their friends that the little tart has sucked off.’ Charlie’s cock grew semi-hard at the image of Lizzie’s lush mouth around an erection, and made progress a little difficult, but he went to the toilet and shut himself inside a cubicle, dropped his trousers to half-mast and took himself in hand. Lizzie’s angelic face floated in front of him; he pictured her as she looked when he spied on her and Worth, and imagined her on her knees between the man’s legs, encasing his hot, hard cock in her moist, pink mouth. Charlie’s cock oozed pre-cum, and he closed his fist a little tighter around his shaft. Rage at his failure to fuck the girl engulfed him, along with the surge of orgasm, and ejaculation, which shot up and soaked his shirt.
oOo
Scott closed his laptop and stowed it, he wouldn’t bother to check his messages until after his break. He had booked a secluded retreat in a remote location, hired fishing gear and a 4 x 4. He intended to put London far behind him and head to the West Country, deferring his return to Australia for at least six months. Cara Wallace had been ungracious when he broke the news. ‘Too bad, I can do without a ball-breaker in my life,’ he muttered, riding the elevator to the hotel reception.
‘Thank you, Mr Worth, we hope to see you again soon.’ The receptionist handed over the car keys and signalled the porter.
‘Goodbye, and thank you,’ replied Scott, striding towards solitude.
oOo
‘I’m so happy that Summer has taken Lizzie under her wing,’ said Sara. ‘She already sounds brighter. I hope we’ve done the right thing agreeing to the gap year.’
‘Of course we have, darling. Lizzie is in no state to go to university right now. It’s difficult enough, without all the emotional stress of whatever it was that upset her.’
‘I guess she’ll tell us when she’s ready,’ said Sara. ‘I’m just going to check my email, and then I’ll make supper.’
‘Funny how we never heard from Scott again, he must have gone back to Oz. Strange he didn’t say goodbye. Tell you what, leave it. Let’s make the most of the empty house.’
‘Oh my God, Phil, come and read this. Oh my God…’
‘Calm down, Sara, they’ll hear you on the other side of the river.’ Phil Michaels rushed into the study, where his wife sat as if frozen in front of the computer monitor. ‘What’s up?’
‘This… read it… Well?’
‘Hang on. I’m still taking it in.’
‘Well?’ repeated his wife after a short pause.
‘It’s a lie. I told you Green was a complete cunt, and this proves it. He’s invented this story because Lizzie isn’t interested in him. He knows Scott is our friend. I don’t believe a word. He’s a shit-stirring fucker.’
‘He copied Scott in. Oh, Phil, it’s dreadful. Do you
genuinely think it’s untrue?’
‘Undoubtedly, but if this is the way his mind works, it explains why Lizzie doesn’t like him.’
‘Well...’
‘What? Well what? You’re not telling me that you give credence to this shite?’
‘Well... Lizzie hasn’t been herself recently. We both know that, you must agree that things have been strange since she took that job at Scott’s firm?’
‘Yes, but not because of Scott. Honestly, Sara, you never cease to amaze me. Quite apart from the fact that you do a disservice to Worth by giving this message even one nano-second’s consideration, it’s unfair to Lizzie. Look, Sara, I know you’re cross and shocked too, but I don’t think we should mention it to Lizzie, certainly not right now. Obviously, being copied in, Scott is aware; we’ll deal with that separately. Meanwhile, block that slimy bastard, Green so he can’t send you anything else.’
‘Very well, Phil, but I’m going to email Scott.’
‘I think you should try his mobile again, but he have returned to Oz by now, he was due to leave, though it’s odd he hasn’t been in touch. Could be he knew something like this was coming and he’s embarrassed. I’ll bet he had a falling out with Green, and that’s what this is all about. We’ve just been dragged in because it’s easy for Green and because Lizzie’s rejected him. I told you what he is. I won’t repeat it.’
‘Scott was good to Lizzie, getting her a job, I’ll admit that, Phil, but I still don’t like it. Something’s not right.’
‘Maybe so, but it won’t be anything to do with Scott. It’s a dreadful accusation. Lizzie isn’t even out of her teens… yet, and he’ll be as disgusted as we are. On second thought, email Scott. Not a word to Lizzie, though. Do we agree? She’s doing so much better since she’s been working with Summer.’
‘All right, I’ll send Scott an email, we’ll see if he replies. But we may have to tell Lizzie anyway. Let’s play it by ear.’
oOo
Charlie Green watched himself as he worked out in the gym where his membership was virtually the be-all and end-all of his existence. Impressive muscles powered him through his regime; vitriol took him to the limits of endurance, pleased with his trouble-making, well-timed messages. He regretted he wouldn’t be there in person to witness the fallout. As he hatched new plans, hate and jealousy blackened his heart. Lust for revenge surged and excitement pulsed adrenaline, stirring his cock a little. A twitch flicked his cheek, and he stared at his reflection. Lately, he seemed to have developed a facial tick that marred his flawless features. A fresh surge of anger tingled his cells, and he turned up the sound flooding his ears, increasing pace as Eminem pounded his workout. Settling into a rhythm, Charlie recited the names on his hit list, uncaring that his moving lips made him appear a little unhinged. Ignoring others around him, he indulged his world of envious creation.
‘Scott-bloody-worthless-Worth, Lizzie-sluttage-Fyne, fat-arsed-Sara, ghastly, god-rotten-Phil, hatethefuckinglotofem…’
Chapter Fifteen
‘No, I’m sorry, Granger, I haven’t a clue why he turned down our offer. My conversation with Worth was brief. Yes, I gave him my private number and no, we had no other discussion. Look, don’t presume too much, Granger, I do not appreciate being questioned as if you were my head teacher and I a pupil. Scott Worth has refused our offer, and that’s all you need to know. It’s as much a mystery to me. I’m terminating this call. Goodbye.’
Cara Wallace marched into her kitchen. ‘Take the day off, Lucy, I need to be alone.’
‘Very well, ma’am.’ The girl fled her boss, who had a formidable temper and was on the verge of losing it.
Meanwhile, leaving London behind, Scott accelerated up the slip road onto the M4 and, pissed with himself that he hadn’t thought to unpack his music for the journey, spent a hundred miles switching between radio stations.
‘I hate fucking phone-ins. Why does some random bloke off the street think anyone’s interested in what he’s got to say about anything? God Almighty, why do they give these tossers air time?’ He pressed the search button again and again until, at last, he stopped. Paul McCartney’s voice filled his space, and he Let It Be. He was careful not to exceed the speed limit, in spite of his need for swift distance from London; he didn’t need a ticket or hassle. Thinking about the fishing gear stowed in the trunk, he wondered why he had bought it; he hadn’t fished for years. Even at home in Western Australia where the fishing was brilliant, Scott hadn’t taken time out to fish. Never mind, the waters in the West Country were great, both freshwater and seawater, he’d discover if he still had the knack. He wouldn’t surf, he had to face facts, his serious surfing days were long behind him. ‘Too fucking old,’ he muttered. ‘Think I’ll stop off and buy a few sounds, can’t stand the fucking radio for many more miles, no point in unpacking everything. For fuck’s sake, I’ve taken to talking to myself big time, bet it’ll be worse after a few days at the back end of beyond.’
Settled back behind the wheel, a selection of discs entered into the player, he nosed the car out of the service area. He re-joined the motorway to powerful sounds that triggered vivid images of Lizzie. He had subconsciously or maybe deliberately selected music they had enjoyed together. Scott wondered about the power of love, the catalyst for extreme human activity. He now knew that he had never been in love before; lust yes, admiration, yes, possibly both. Although he hesitated to put a label onto previous feelings, most of his liaisons had been steeped in the need for sex. Hell, even with Lizzie, he had been floored by an instant physical reaction the moment she opened the door on the day of the party. Now, everything was a mess, blown apart as if an incendiary device had been dropped between them.
Chapter Sixteen
Arriving at the stage door, Summer signed in. ‘Hullo, Leighton, how are you today?’
‘Very well thank you, miss, and you?’
‘Good thanks, late—again... it’s a lovely day, isn’t it?’
‘It certainly is, and we’ll be spending the best of it down here,’ replied Leighton, taking the pen from her and completing the entry by noting the time.
‘You know my friend, Lizzie, the girl who started last week? Well, she’ll be in at lunchtime, will you take her over to the box office? That’s where she’s at today.’
‘Sure. She’s a nice girl, is Lizzie.’
‘See you later,’ called Summer over her shoulder and made her way to the dressing room.
Greeting her fellow actors, Summer went through her lines and prepared for stage. The actors did their own makeup and costume changes, they also took turns manning the box office and other front of house stuff. Being a small company with few staff, productions were adapted and designed to accommodate the troupe. Summer and her colleagues put on two brief shows a day, one at lunchtime, popular with city workers, who were encouraged to bring a packed lunch along, and a second in the evening.
The current run was risky; they’d taken a chance with Sonnets. Summer received favourable reviews; she was content, and thrived in the atmosphere and freedom of her chosen profession. Even though her parents would have preferred that she follow a more traditional career, she had stuck with her dream, and in the end they had financed drama school and helped her buy the flat.
Standing in the wings watching Jackson Smart and Emily Croft rehearsing, Summer felt a pang of envy; their delivery was so smooth and moving. They looked fabulous together, starry and wonderful. She would have given almost anything to be playing opposite Jackson. New to the company, the tall Canadian was hot, horny, and handsome; the other girls vied for attention while Summer lusted after him with uncharacteristic stealth.
Her part in the current production meant she was never on stage at the same time as Jackson, so she settled for watching from the wings whenever possible. He looked impressive, Summer never tired of gazing at him in action. Emily was also striking, traditionally pretty with long, shining golden hair, touching her body at the waist, it was one of the reasons the director had
chosen her; she wouldn’t need to wear a wig. Summer’s own choice of unconventional hair colour resulted in her having to wear uncomfortable headgear and wigs for many of the roles in their traditional productions although, for Sonnets, she was able to leave her unique hair on show.
The theatre, created by converting a former Victorian building, being one of the smaller venues in the city, seated fewer than two hundred people, but the company was proud to be self-sufficient. Their costs were covered by their ability to put bums on seats, usually to capacity. The players adapted Shakespeare, calling their plays Précis Productions, cutting everything to the bone, presenting short sketches, underpinned with cunning stage direction that made everything work in a seamless whole. Their current production focused on recital of his Sonnets and was Summer’s favourite in the company’s repertoire.
‘For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.’
Jackson’s recital of Sonnet 97 mesmerised the company. His eyes locked on his Muse, his lips full and sensuous, moving smoothly and seductively over the lines.
‘And thou away, the very birds are mute,’ repeated Summer under her breath, her heart beat a little harder and dried her mouth as she watched from the wings. Jeez, I’d be raring to go if I had Jackson Smart’s face that close to mine, she thought, watching the duo on stage, aware of heat suffusing her senses. Not with the usual nerves, no, this was something else; conscious that lust for Jackson Smart had placed itself awkwardly within, fizzing her cells. Her performance passed in a blur as it always did. She suffered from stage fright, but usually managed to check it. One of her methods was meditation, and she found her best work happened when seemingly on another planet.
Break it to Love Page 6