Journey’s End

by A. E. Radley

  While it was just friends and families of the company, and no one had paid a penny for a ticket, Emily felt quite overwhelmed by what was happening. She’d had dreams of entertaining people with her writing for years, but they’d always been dreams.

  She’d seen the play at least a hundred times in different variations, and on opening night, she had no intention of watching it again. This time she was going to watch the audience. She was going to soak up the atmosphere of a room full of people watching her words on a stage.

  Everything had been so hectic that she’d almost forgotten the enormity of what was happening.

  “Hello, famous scriptwriter lady.”

  She turned around and smiled at Simon. “Hey, so glad you could make it!” She hugged him in greeting.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Unless this one goes into labour, in which case we’re out of here.” Simon gestured to Sophie who had entered the auditorium with an armful of snacks.

  “Wow, you look ready to pop,” Emily said.

  “I wish I would,” Sophie groused. “I suddenly ballooned up. I can’t go on like this much longer.”

  Emily gave her a hug, being careful to avoid the popcorn and the packs of sweets.

  “Don’t worry, it goes really fast at this point,” Emily lied. The truth was it dragged more in the last couple of weeks. But Sophie didn’t need to hear that. A little fib would hopefully make her feel better.

  “I hope so,” Sophie said. “I’m like a house. Two houses. And I’m comfort eating so I’ll still be like a house when the baby comes out.”

  Sophie looked at the array of treats in her arms. She looked up at Simon with a sad expression, her bottom lip jutting out.

  “What do you need?” Simon asked her.

  “Chocolate.”

  Simon pulled the tickets out of his pocket and went to hand them to Sophie. He saw her full arms and then handed them to Emily instead.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” he told her.

  Emily looked at the row number and walked Sophie towards their seats.

  “How is everything? No more creepy notes?” Sophie asked in a whisper.

  “No, nothing,” Emily replied. “I think I know who it was. Since the police have been involved, he’s been very quiet.”

  “Was it the strange guy you mentioned?”

  Emily looked around the sparsely filled auditorium to check they were alone.

  “Yep. My co-writer, Carl.”

  Sophie’s eyebrows raised. “Your co-writer? Oh, creepy!”

  “Yeah,” Emily agreed. She took the large bag of popcorn from Sophie’s hands and gestured down the row.

  The theatre was very old, and the seats were the original ones. While they had been reupholstered over the years, they were still very narrow and a heavily pregnant woman carrying half of a sweet shop would never pass without help.

  Sophie made her way down the row and sat in her designated seat. Emily sat next to her and handed her the popcorn.

  “He’s still creepy,” Emily explained. “Just no notes or flowers or anything like that.”

  At that moment, Carl walked onto the stage with Hannah and started to adjust something with the trap door.

  “That’s him,” Emily said with a nod of her head.

  Sophie looked up with interest. “Oh yeah,” she said. “He looks a bit weird.”

  “I don’t have any proof, of course. Just a feeling.”

  “Well, you have to trust your instincts,” Sophie agreed. “Sometimes you can just tell.”

  “Tell what?” Simon asked.

  “Girl talk,” Sophie explained. “Did you get the chocolate?”

  “I did, master.” He handed her a large bar of chocolate with a grin.

  Emily looked up and saw Nicole walk into the auditorium. She spied the threesome and walked up the row in front of theirs to greet them. “Hello all!”

  “Hey,” Simon greeted. He leaned over the row of seats and hugged her.

  Nicole looked at Sophie. “Don’t get up, darling. And don’t give birth until the curtain goes down.”

  “Can’t promise anything,” Sophie joked.

  “On second thought, if it starts to nosedive, I’ll give you a signal and you can pretend your water has broken.”

  “Hey, it’s not going to nosedive,” Emily argued.

  “We might be without an actor if Jonathan doesn’t stop going on and on about his closing line before the intermission.”

  Emily sighed. “Is he still going on about that?”

  The actor, Jonathan, wasn’t even playing a major part. Emily had expected the lead actors to be divas, but it turned out they were both lovely. Jonathan, however, who was on the stage for less than five minutes in total, was a pain.

  “He is,” Nicole confirmed. “Could you go and see if you can add that extra line in that you were talking about? It’s the last line, so it makes no difference to anyone else, and if it gives him his moment of glory, and, more importantly, shuts him up, then great.”

  “Absolutely,” Emily agreed. She turned to Simon and Sophie. “I’ll catch you guys at the end of the show.”

  “I’m sure it will be great,” Sophie enthused.

  “It is great,” Nicole reassured.

  Emily edged her way down the row and walked into the corridors. She hoped it was great. When she’d written the play, she had no idea it would ever actually get to be performed on a stage. Or the enormous amount of work it took a huge number of people to get it there. Now she felt jittery. It was the acid test for her work. In a couple of hours, she’d know whether she was actually any good.

  Emily didn’t have time for Jonathan’s dramatics. She just wanted the show to go on, whether he ended the scene with one line or three didn’t bother her in the slightest. But Jonathan was adamant, and as long as he was unhappy, a darkness hung over the production. Nicole had warned her about working with actors and explained how sometimes it was easier to let them have their own way. Emily couldn’t agree more.

  She stood in Jonathan’s dressing room. Not his original dressing room, the one that he claimed was too near the stage door and therefore had a draft. The dressing room he forcibly switched with another member of the company.

  That should have been their first indication that he was trouble.

  “Of course, I’m not sure why it was changed to begin with,” Jonathan said. He peered into the mirror at his reflection. He held a comb in his hand and occasionally swept aside a stray strand of hair.

  “Well, we’ll change it back for now and see how it goes,” Emily explained. “But it may revert to the new script for the opening night. We can compare how it is received.”

  “I think I know which will be preferred,” Jonathan replied haughtily.

  Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew she needed to play this one more carefully.

  “Yes, I think they’ll prefer the shorter version,” Emily admitted. “Of course, if it were a less accomplished actor, then I wouldn’t even consider it. As you know, it takes someone with experience and ability to pull off a less-is-more performance. I think it’s very brave of you to try both versions to see which one is better received. I think we both know that the audience needs to be left wanting more. And the way to do that is with an understated performance, like we know you can give. But we’ll try both… just to be absolutely certain.”

  Jonathan paled.

  Emily subtly looked up from her paperwork to regard his reaction in the mirror.

  “W-well, yes, of course,” he gulped. “You know what, maybe we should keep it as the shorter version. For now. Maybe try out the longer version later? I wouldn’t want to confuse lighting. You know how they are when there’s a last-minute change at the end of the act.”

  Emily pretended to consider the idea for the first time. “If you’re sure?” she asked.

  “Absolutely.” Jonathan placed the comb back on his dressing table and stood up. “I better get going. I need to speak with c
ostume before we go on.”

  Emily watched him leave and smothered a smirk behind her hand. She knew he was off to terrorise his next victim, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d gotten him off her plate, and that was all that mattered.

  Hannah appeared in the doorway.

  “Oh, here you are.” She stepped inside the dressing room and closed the door behind her. “It’s manic out there.”

  “It is! Is it always like this on opening night?” Emily asked.

  “Yes, I try to keep my head down. Or Jonathan will have me repainting every piece of backdrop behind him so it perfectly matches his eyes.”

  Emily chuckled. “He is a bit high-maintenance.”

  “A bit?” Hannah joked. “He’s the worse. For a third-rate, bit-part actor, he has a list of demands longer than I’ve ever seen. Anyway, enough about him. How are you feeling? Nervous?”

  “Yes, very,” Emily admitted.

  “Okay, you need to do some theatre breathing. It sounds weird, but it fixes everything.”

  Hannah stepped forward, took all the paperwork from Emily’s hands, and laid it on the dressing table. She guided Emily to stand in front of the tall dressing mirror, then she stood behind her and looked over Emily’s shoulder at their reflection in the mirror. Without a second thought, she placed her hands over Emily’s stomach.

  “Breathe in slowly,” Hannah instructed.

  Emily did as she was told.

  “You can close your eyes, if you like,” Hannah said.

  Emily’s eyes fluttered closed. She could feel Hannah’s breath by her ear.

  “Breathe out,” Hannah whispered. “Nice and slow.”

  Emily released the breath.

  “You feel so tense. Try again.”

  Emily took another long, slow breath in.

  “That’s it,” Hannah said. “And out again.”

  Emily started to slowly breathe out. She had to admit that the calm breathing was helping. She knew she was stressed, and she couldn’t remember the last time that she had taken a few moments out to relax.

  Suddenly Hannah’s lips were on her neck.

  Eyes springing open, Emily jumped to the side and stared at Hannah in surprise.

  Hannah grinned. “Sorry, I had to.”

  Emily continued to stare. She hadn’t expected to be in this situation, and now she had no idea what to do or say. Her feet were glued to the floor, and her arms felt like they were made of lead.

  Hannah took a step forward, so Emily quickly retreated the same distance. She hit her back on the wall behind her. She swallowed as Hannah took another step forward.

  “I’m sorry,” Hannah said. The grin remained on her face. “I just… I can see that we fit together. But, don’t worry, I know that you can’t see that yet.”

  “I-I’m married,” Emily spluttered.

  “Yes, but I know you’re having trouble. You told me, remember?”

  Emily furrowed her brow. “No. I didn’t say that.”

  “You did. She refuses to fly and see you, remember? You told me. But anyway, enough of that. I know that you’re going home soon, and I want to make sure you don’t make a mistake. One you’ll regret.”

  “Hannah, look, I don’t know what you think you know, but you don’t get it. I’m happy. Very happy. With my wife.”

  “You think that, but you’re not.” Hannah made a sad face, pitying Emily’s apparent naivety. “I realise you don’t know me that well at the moment, but I know you. And I know we fit together.”

  The words hit her like a punch to the stomach.

  “You sent the flowers,” Emily guessed.

  “Yes. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was trying to show you how caring I am. Prove to you that I’m the one.”

  Emily looked towards the closed door and knew she had to get out of there. Hannah was clearly deluded, not to mention potentially dangerous. She seemed to have some fantasy where they would be together.

  She edged to the side, but Hannah quickly did the same, bringing them closer together.

  “Now, now,” Hannah warned. “Let’s talk. No need to run off.”

  “Hannah, I want to leave,” Emily said firmly, though a quake was detectable in her voice.

  “And I want to talk to you,” Hannah said. “I don’t want you to run off before I’ve had a chance to explain.”

  “Hann—” Emily was cut off by Hannah’s hand covering her mouth.

  “Shh, just let me explain everything. You’ll see what I see soon, I promise.”

  37

  Hannah was clearly unstable, and Emily had no idea what she would do next. Hannah’s hand was tightly clamped against her mouth.

  The door opened with such a force that it cracked against the wall behind it.

  Hannah jumped back in shock, and Emily shuddered in relief. Relief quickly turned to shock as Olivia barrelled through the doorway with a murderous look on her face.

  “That’s her.” Olivia raised her hand and pointed to Hannah.

  “Come with us, please, miss,” a police office said as he entered the room. Another police officer followed him, blocking the door.

  “Go away!” Hannah screamed. “I’m not doing anything!”

  “We know your real identity, and we want to have a word with you down at the station. Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.”

  Hannah rushed towards the police officers, but they quickly managed to contain her, each taking an arm as they quickly escorted her from the room.

  Hannah screamed as they pulled her down the corridor.

  Emily stared at Olivia as if she were a hallucination.

  “Did she hurt you?” Olivia asked. Her eyes raced over Emily’s body in search of damage.

  Emily caught her breath. “What are you doing here?”

  “Having the authorities arrest that crazy woman,” Olivia explained.

  “I mean in this country!”

  “Oh. I came here to support you on your opening night. It was meant to be a surprise. So, yes. Surprise.”

  Emily launched herself into Olivia’s arms, and Olivia tightly wrapped her in a hug.

  “Did she hurt you?” Olivia repeated.

  “No.” Emily shook her head into the material of Olivia’s woollen trench coat. She gripped at the soft fabric.

  “And you’re okay?” Olivia questioned.

  “I am now. How did you know?” Emily rested her head on Olivia’s shoulder. She breathed in her familiar perfume and forced herself to relax a little.

  “Sophie told Simon who you suspected, Simon told me when I arrived. We went to talk to him, and he told me that he suspected Hannah. Apparently, he was aware that she had done this kind of thing before, but he was afraid to speak out.”

  Emily leaned back a little and looked Olivia in the eye. “Carl suspected it was Hannah?”

  “Yes.”

  Emily looked at the ceiling and shook her head. “I can’t believe I got it so wrong.”

  “Why did you think it was him?” Olivia asked.

  She lowered her eyes and guiltily met Olivia’s. “He seemed weird.”

  “Weird?” Olivia frowned.

  “Yes.” Emily took a deep breath through her nostrils. “I clearly misjudged him.”

  “He seems like a nice guy,” Olivia said.

  Emily suddenly made the connection that maybe Carl wasn’t weird. It was possible that he just processed things differently, much the same as Olivia did. She felt guilt in the pit of her stomach. She’d judged him unfairly. Worrying about the stalker had caused a knee-jerk reaction, one she wasn’t proud of.

  “And if I hadn’t spoken to him, I-I might not have found you so soon,” Olivia said. Her arms tightened around Emily’s middle.

  “I would have kicked her in the kneecaps eventually, I was a bit startled,” Emily said.

  She wasn’t entirely sure whether that was true. She felt stupid for her inactivity, but Hannah had literally scared her stiff.

  “Mm.�
� Olivia sounded unconvinced.

  “Emily? Is everything okay?”

  Emily pulled away from Olivia’s embrace to see Carl standing awkwardly in the door.

  “It is now,” Emily replied. “Thank you for sharing your concerns with Olivia. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Carl shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I didn’t know for sure. I didn’t want to get her in trouble. You know what it’s like when someone accuses someone, and they didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Emily stifled a bitter laugh. “I know what you mean.”

  “I went to college with her, she used another name back then. She told me that the rumours weren’t true, and if I told anyone, she’d get her brother to hurt me,” Carl explained. “I should have said something sooner, but then I worried that you would think I was blaming someone else to put myself in the clear and—”

  Emily held up her hand to calm him. “I get it,” she said. “Thank you for saying something.”

  “Well, I didn’t have much choice.” Carl gestured to Olivia. “She had her hand around my neck.”

  Emily spun to regard Olivia.

  “I thought you’d been harassing my wife,” Olivia explained, as that was a perfectly reasonable excuse for throttling the man.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” Carl said and turned to leave.

  “You throttled him?” Emily questioned.

  Olivia smiled. “I helped him to remember pertinent facts, quickly.”

  “You’re a little scary sometimes,” Emily said. But then her brain clicked into gear. “You’re here!”

  “I am,” Olivia said carefully, probably thinking that Emily had lost her mind.

  “You… you flew here. You said you’d never fly again.”

  “I had a little help,” Olivia confessed. “Henry’s here, too.”

  “Henry?” Emily blinked. She was torn between being embarrassed at having forgotten to even ask where Henry was and being stunned that both Olivia and Henry were in London.

  “He’s asleep. It was rather a busy day. I have the hotel babysitting service watching him.” Olivia looked uncertain. “Should I have left him at home? With Lucy?”