by Penny Jordan
‘I expect most of you know by now that Drew has had to return to London—some problem with a script he’s been working on, but let’s hope he should be back before too long. Today,’ he continued briskly, ‘I want to concentrate on Claudio and Hero’s roles, so if Kirsty and Rafe could both come over here.’
Drew gone! Kirsty could barely take it in. Surely he had not left because of last night? But no, Simon had said something about a script. She tried to comfort herself with the knowledge that Drew would never react so emotionally to what had happened, but the niggling suspicion that he had left rather than work with her could not be completely obliterated.
As the morning wore on and she became more engrossed in her role, she was able to push Drew to the back of her mind.
They broke for lunch, Kirsty accepting Rafe’s suggestion that they eat together at the local pub. They spent most of the time discussing their parts and by the time they returned to the theatre, to watch Simon taking Rachel and David through their roles as Beatrice and Benedick, she was feeling a lot calmer.
That calm was shattered when Simon announced that they had worked hard enough for one day, and Rachel came over towards her.
‘So Drew’s back in London,’ she murmured, eyeing Kirsty speculatively. ‘My poor darling—but then, of course, it was on the cards right from the word go that your engagement couldn’t last. Drew’s a worldly, sophisticated man, who allowed his desire to outweigh common sense; something I’m sure he’s regretting now. After all,’ she pointed out with sweet malice, ‘if he had really wanted to, there’s nothing to stop him working on the script down here.’
* * *
The days took on a routine pattern; Simon was an excellent director, who knew how to get the best out of his actors. Rachel made an excellent Beatrice, Kirsty acknowledged, watching her one afternoon as she and David rehearsed the opening scenes of the play. On stage she underwent a transformation that enabled her to become Beatrice, and Kirsty envied her it. Rachel was singleminded about her profession in a way that she could never be, she acknowledged. Her husband had extensive business interests and neither of them seemed to mind the separation. Perhaps she was not cut out to be an actress after all, she reflected, as Simon took her on one side to explain exactly what he wanted from her as Hero.
‘Traditionally Hero readily forgives Claudio for renouncing her, but both Drew and I want to see her behave with a little more spirit. That speech when Claudio rejects her during the wedding ceremony, for instance, we want you to inject more sarcasm than pathos into it. You are being rejected by the man you love; initially you are confused and defensive, but then…’ He spoke several of Hero’s lines to indicate what he meant, and several other members of the cast drifted over to listen as Rafe and Kirsty went through the scene again.
‘You’re getting the hang of it,’ Simon approved, glancing at his watch. ‘I just want to run through your final scene,’ he told the two men playing Don Pedro and Don John, and as Kirsty turned away Rachel came up to her.
‘Very good,’ she praised. ‘But then of course you’ll be quite familiar with rejection, won’t you? Have you heard from Drew since he went to New York?’
Kirsty tried to conceal her shock, and knew she had failed when Rachel murmured with exaggerated and entirely fictitious concern, ‘Oh, my dear, didn’t you know? He and Beverley flew out there together two days ago. She rang me from New York last night—she was over the moon…’
* * *
It was after that that Kirsty stopped wearing Drew’s ring, relinquishing her last, faint hope that a miracle might occur and that he might suddenly come to care for her. Cherry commented on its absence, and Kirsty explained it away by saying that the ring was a little large and she was afraid of losing it.
Helen came to watch them rehearse one afternoon, and Kirsty was shocked to see how pale and tired she looked. That Simon was concerned about her too was obvious, and Kirsty felt an irrational shaft of resentment against Drew. Couldn’t he even spare a couple of weeks from Beverley’s side to relieve his friend of the burden of directing the play? But then lovers were inclined to be selfish, she admitted, and she wondered how long she would have to wait before she could tactfully allow it to be known that their ‘engagement’ was over. She didn’t want to say anything while Helen was looking so ill; Helen had already asked her several times if she had heard from Drew, mentioning that she knew how much she must be missing him, and how pleased they were about their engagement, and Kirsty had no wish to upset her by announcing it was over.
The days spread into weeks. Gradually the play started to come together. Costumes arrived and were fitted; scenery was made ready, and an indefinable but noticeable tension began to grip the cast, adding a sharp, zestful edge to rehearsals.
Only Kirsty seemed unable to share the growing excitement. She was conscious of a certain lack of something in her own performance that bothered her and made her feel that she was letting Simon down. If he was aware of it, he didn’t say so, but Rachel’s constantly expressed doubts about the changing of Hero’s traditional role nibbled away at her self-confidence, and Kirsty felt sure that it was no accident that the other woman often contrived to be in the vicinity when they were rehearsing. Twice she had dropped props; on one occasion she had broken into a coughing spasm and on another she had dislodged a piece of scenery just as they were building up to the crux of the wedding scene.
Had they been acting in front of an audience, Kirsty had no doubt that she could have accused Rachel of deliberately trying to distract their attention, but it was impossible to suggest that the older and infinitely more experienced actress was trying to throw her off balance, and anyway, Kirsty didn’t feel that she wanted to descend to Rachel’s petty level.
Even so, she was finding the strain tiring, and confided her fears to Cherry one evening as they walked towards the car park together.
‘I’m sure you’re wrong,’ Cherry comforted her, when Kirsty told her how worried she was about her portrayal of Hero’s role. ‘Simon is very pleased with you, I know, although he’s a bit preoccupied at the moment, poor love. The hospital want Helen to go in on an in-patient basis until after the birth, but she won’t hear of it. Any idea when Drew’s coming back?’
‘He’s in New York at the moment,’ Kirsty told her, trying not to let her voice betray her.
‘Umm. It’s a terrible shame that that script business should have come up right now, but then I don’t suppose he had much option, not if he was already contracted, but you must miss him dreadfully.’
Someone Kirsty managed a monosyllabic response, and only she knew how bitterly true it was. She did miss him, with a dull, nagging ache that gave her an insight into what she was going to have to endure for the rest of her life.
All her normal optimism and exuberance seemed to have been quenched; she felt quenched herself, muted and dull, as though loving Drew had destroyed her vivacity and joie de vivre. She was tempted to go home for a weekend, but dreaded her parents reading the truth in her face, she had changed so much. If nothing else, knowing Drew had forced her into adulthood, and she had left behind for ever the girl who had so glibly decided to punish him for daring to criticise her.
Even now she found it impossible to remember the feel of his skin and the warmth of his mouth without aching to experience both again.
Lying sleepless at night, she sometimes endured the unbearable torture of re-living the sensation of being in his arms, but the experience was too painful and she had taken to sitting up, either reading or working, until she was on the point of exhaustion, solely to ensure that when she went to bed she would sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘DON’T worry—you always think you’re far worse than you actually are. It’s a well known actor’s failing,’ Rafe comforted Kirsty, as he helped her down from the stage.
They had just finished a pre-dress rehearsal run-through, and compared with the polished performances of the others, Kirsty was convinced that her own fe
ll very far short of their expertise.
‘For what it’s worth I think Simon is right, and you’re bringing a freshness to Hero that’s very winning. David thinks so too,’ he added with a wicked grin. Although professionally their Beatrice and Benedick could not be faulted, there had been a few sparks flying between the two leading actors, which Kirsty found a little surprising because David had always had a reputation for being an extremely unprecious actor, with an extremely even temperament. Rachel had tried to upstage him, and while he had not allowed her attitude to provoke him into a quarrel, he had been firm and direct about making sure the incident wasn’t repeated. Cherry had confided to Kirsty that Simon wasn’t too happy with the actress either, although he admitted that she made an excellent Beatrice.
‘I’m afraid I’m never going to be anything even approaching as good as Rachel,’ Kirsty told him honestly.
‘Would you want to be?’ David raised his eyebrows and looked down at her. ‘Surely once you’re married to Drew acting will take something of a second place in your life—unless of course I’ve misread your character.’
Kirsty shook her head.
‘No, I’ll never have the dedication to devote my whole life to it.’
‘That’s just as well,’ David laughed. ‘I can’t see Drew being too happy about that. Heard anything from him recently?’ he added casually.
How much had he heard? Kirsty wondered numbly. There had been a time when Rachel had made no secret of the fact that, married or not, she couldn’t be entirely averse to allowing their mutual roles to extend beyond the boundaries of Shakespeare’s play, and even though now she was barely civil to David when they weren’t on the stage, Kirsty couldn’t be sure that she hadn’t told him about Beverley and about her being in New York with Drew.
‘He writes,’ she lied eventually, ‘but…’
‘Letters are never an adequate recompense?’ he suggested with a faint smile. ‘If I didn’t know that in my heart of hearts I’d be poaching, I’d suggest that you have dinner with me tonight, Kirsty. ‘He added with a wry smile, ‘Drew’s a very lucky man. Girls like you are all too thin on the ground these days.’
‘Thank you, kind sir,’ Kirsty managed with a shaky grin. The mere mention of Drew had been sufficient to awaken all the anguish she had fought to put behind her since he had gone.
‘What’s going on here?’ They had been standing together in the shadows offstage, and Rachel’s acidly sneering remark and searching gaze made them both move slightly away. ‘Private tuition?’ she goaded in the same sour tone. ‘I hope you benefit from it, my dear—you can certainly do with it, but then of course I tend to forget that you don’t have the experience of the rest of us. At least not on stage,’ she added insultingly. ‘What was it now—two flops behind you?’
‘One, actually.’ Kirsty was proud of the quiet calmness of her voice because she was feeling far from calm.
‘Bitch!’ David remarked succinctly as Rachel pushed past them. ‘I hope she doesn’t use this to make trouble between you and Drew,’ he added.
‘I doubt if anything she had to say would alter Drew’s feelings towards me,’ Kirsty told him lightly. It was, after all, probably the truth. Drew’s opinion of her was already so low, it couldn’t possibly sink any lower, and then, although David didn’t know it, telling him that she had found them together was hardly to evoke any response. She was wearing Drew’s ring again. Somehow she hadn’t been able to resist the temptation to wear it, and she fingered it now with a prescient feeling of sadness. How long would it be before she no longer had any rights, however tenuous, to what it symbolised?
Simon had already told her that Drew was having to stay in New York longer than he had planned. Why? Because Beverley was there and he couldn’t bear to be parted from her? Asking herself such painful questions was a profitless exercise, and when Cherry suggested that she join them at the pub across the road from the theatre for a drink before going their separate ways, Kirsty agreed.
Everyone apart from her seemed to be in an effervescent mood. The rehearsals were going well, or so the others seemed to think
Rafe, who was playing Claudio to her Here, sat next to her questioning her about her views of Simon’s interpretation of her part.
‘I must say I think it’s working very well,’ he told her enthusiastically. ‘It was Drew’s idea originally, of course. He told me about it when they were initially auditioning for Much Ado. I remember I asked him then who was playing Hero, and he told me he hadn’t found her. He wanted someone special, he said, someone who could rise above the traditional playing of the role. In fact I seem to remember that he expressed a good deal of admiration for Hero,’ he added with a grin. ‘Something about her being a much easier woman to live with than Beatrice with all her fireworks. It looks as if he really meant it,’ he added slyly. ‘Have the two of you named the big day yet?’
Kirsty was saved from answering when Meg started to tell her about the time she had played Hero, and how difficult she had found it.
Kirsty had the impression that they were all, in their separate ways, trying to build up her self-confidence, and her despondency grew. She was not right for the part, she knew it. She lacked the experience, the verve, Simon was looking for. She would let him and the others down, she knew she would.
‘Don’t forget, everyone, dress rehearsal Wednesday,’ Simon reminded them as he got up to leave. ‘I’ve got to run now, Helen hasn’t been feeling too good. No rehearsals tomorrow—have a day off.’ There was a chorus of groans because it had been over a week since they had a full day off, Simon had been working them and himself hard, and Kirsty had been glad of it. She had returned to her bedsit in the evenings too tired to do anything other than fall into bed, but now she was going to have a full day of leisure, with nothing to do but think about Drew and worry about their opening night. And she was worried. Far more worried than she had been with either of her two previous parts. All at once she couldn’t understand why she had ever wanted to go on the stage, and on impulse when she got home, she dialled Chelsea’s number in Northumberland
Her aunt’s husky, warm tones had an immediate soothing effect on her frayed nerves. She listened in silence as Kirsty poured out all her woes, although she was careful to make no mention of Drew.
‘I wish you had more than one day off,’ Chelsea complained. ‘You could have come up to us. I was speaking to your mother last night, she’s worried about you.’ In Northumberland Kirsty imagined Chelsea grinning sympathetically. Both of them had suffered in their time from Ann Stannard’s mothering tendencies, and Ann was inclined to be rather proud of the fact that she had been instrumental in bringing Chelsea and her husband Slade together.
‘Try not to worry, Kirsty,’ Chelsea told her. ‘I wish I could see you—it’s so frustrating only being able to talk. You don’t sound the same somehow. I have the feeling something’s changed, but I don’t know what. Are you all right?’
‘Fine,’ Kirsty assured her brightly. ‘I’ve just grown up, that’s all,’ and then she rang off quickly before Chelsea could ask any more questions.
* * *
‘Oh, Kirsty, you look absolutely fantastic! Your waist’s so tiny!’ Cherry enthused, perched on a stool in the crowded, hot dressing room, watching them all struggle into their costumes.
Hers was very attractive, Kirsty owned. Of bright crimson taffeta with a soft cream underskirt, it had originally been intended for Beatrice, but despite her dark wig, Rachel had categorically refused to wear the crimson, claiming that it destroyed her complexion.
‘They’re getting ready for first calls,’ Cherry warned her. ‘Oh, I always love the first dress rehearsal. Somehow when you see the play performed in costume for the first time it really comes alive. The scenery is fantastic too. It was clever of Drew to suggest that we use the local art school. They’ve certainly come up with some clever ideas.’
The art students had done an excellent job, under Pete’s able direction. A familiar te
nsion gripped Kirsty as she stepped on stage behind Rachel—and then she wasn’t Kirsty Stannard any more; she was Hero, placid, good-natured cousin to the fiery, temperamental Beatrice, but beneath that placidness was resolution and courage, and those were the qualities that must show through to the audience, and it was up to her to make sure they did!
Leonato was speaking the opening lines, Geoff replying ably in his role as Messenger. Then it was Rachel’s turn, quick-witted and faintly cruel as she asked after Benedick.
Leonato’s, ‘What is he that you ask for, niece?’ was Kirsty’s cue and she took a deep breath, her smile and demeanour calm and unruffled, but there was a twinkle in her eyes and a lilt to her voice as she said demurely, ‘My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua…’
After that the lines and acts followed one another in steady succession until just before the marriage scene where Claudio was to reject her. Kirsty came off stage to find everything in a complete uproar.
‘Talk about the show must go on!’ Cherry was muttering through clenched teeth, her expression lightening as she saw Kirsty. She grabbed hold of her and pulled her into the dressing room.
‘Drew’s on his way back,’ she told her quickly.
‘Drew? You mean from New York?’ Kirsty asked faintly. Her heart was pounding heavily, Hero completely forgotten.
‘I mean from London, to here,’ Cherry told her. ‘It all blew up last night. Did you know Simon wasn’t here?’
‘Yes, someone said he’d been delayed.’
‘Half right. Helen wasn’t well all day yesterday, and then last night she had to be rushed into hospital. Simon rang Drew in New York, and he announced that he was coming back to take over so that Simon could be free to be with Helen. It’s pretty serious,’ Cherry added gravely. ‘They may well have to induce, both for the baby’s sake and Helen’s, but I thought I’d just tell you. In all the panic I thought Drew might not have been able to let you know he’s coming back. First available Concorde flight, and then an internal flight to York. He should be here soon. Simon told me that Drew said he wanted to be in time to catch the dress rehearsal if he could. Quick, you’re back on,’ Cherry added. ‘I just thought I’d give you the good news—cheer you up a bit.’