by Hazel Osmond
‘Yes?’
‘This isn’t Hollywood speak, this is me. I will love you forever for doing this. I can’t wait to meet you when I come over.’
She finished the call, and he walked towards Doug, waiting in the lobby.
No, you won’t love me forever, Cressida. In fact, come Sunday, I’m going to be right up there at the top of your hate list.
CHAPTER 32
Jennifer knew there was a time when she would have to let go of Matt’s hand, and when it came he pushed her towards the steps leading up to the wings.
‘Go on,’ he said, ‘show them how it should be done.’
She lifted her head and breathed from her diaphragm. She pulled her mouth wide and then made it as narrow as possible, ignoring how one side of her face felt stiff and as if it was lagging behind the other. She focused on Viola.
She remembered climbing the steps and heard her cue, but she couldn’t recall walking out on to the stage. She was waiting for a gasp from the audience, but there was nothing, just the front two rows of faces visible in the lights, turned towards her expectantly – Ray and Brenda, Danny and Bryony, Marjorie, Sheila and just on the edge of her vision, Sonia and Gregor.
‘What country, friends, is this?’ she said, and then it happened. She was flying … flying … flying …
*
Mack let go of her hand and knew that at least he’d done something right. He hadn’t rung O’Dowd with that final confirmation and he hadn’t told him Cressida was on her way to the UK. For now, at least, he could pretend he was innocent.
He watched Jennifer from the wings. Even in a costume that did not fit her properly, she looked vibrant and alive and the way she moved was sublime. She was a woman pretending to be a man and she had it perfectly, every little nuance, even down to the way she set her hips. After the first few minutes he stopped worrying that she was going to forget her words or freeze under all that attention, and he felt the play change in her hands to become something bigger, more affecting. Now the audience didn’t simply understand the poignancy of Viola having to woo Olivia with words she yearned to use on the man she loved, they felt it too. Jennifer’s passion wrapped itself around Jocelyn, and she responded, looking almost drunk with it. Angus, watching from beside Mack, went ‘Ohh’ in a way that suggested he would be thinking about that scene in all kinds of inappropriate ways later.
Mack clung on to the part of Sebastian like a raft, unable to comprehend how his life after this play would unfold. He could not take his eyes from this woman on the stage, revelled in the confident side of her soaring and swooping over the audience, yet knowing he was about to whisk all of this new-won happiness away from her. He did his scenes as if dreaming, amazed that nobody could see him disintegrating and the only lines he heard were those that seemed to be calling out to everyone that Matt Harper was the only impostor here, the rest of them were merely acting. ‘I am not what I am,’ Jennifer said and each word thumped into his head.
Near the end of the play, when he and Viola were reunited, he felt Jennifer run her hand down his arm as she had done when she measured him. It was the only time he heard her stumble on her words and he had to think of the cold North Sea to prevent the audience wondering whether Sebastian’s relationship with his sister was entirely wholesome.
And finally, finally he got his scenes with Jocelyn right, allowing himself to think of Jennifer as he did them. When he said, ‘If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep,’ he could not remember anything he had ever said in his life before that he had meant so much.
At the end people were on their feet, clapping and cheering, and Mack saw Jennifer struggling to retain her composure. Most of the cast had given up trying – they knew the bigger drama that had been played out on the stage tonight.
As the curtains closed Finlay strode forward and with infinite care took Jennifer’s face between his hands. He dropped a kiss on her forehead.
‘Welcome back,’ he said, ‘to where you belong.’
It was then that Mack saw his own vision blur and he backed away. He would go now, quietly leave the hall and call a taxi. He was all packed, the stuff he was leaving behind stowed in the bottom of the wardrobe, his cord jacket over the chair in the bedroom, his passport safe in the inside pocket.
He looked back at Jennifer and just glimpsed Jocelyn pushing through the throng to get to her. Without considering what he was doing, he rushed across, got hold of her around the waist and pulled her away.
She rounded on him, her mouth open. ‘What the friggin’ Hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘First, I wanted to say congratulations on our scenes tonight. I think we nailed them, finally. And then I wanted to tell you that unless the very next thing you say to Jennifer is a compliment, don’t say anything at all. I heard you before the play wondering aloud if she’d used all the concealer. Luckily, she didn’t. If it’s something along those lines, think again.’
‘Or?’
‘I’ll do something to you that’s public and unpleasant, and you’ll see a side of me you haven’t seen before.’
She surprised him by laughing. ‘All right, lover boy, no need to prove you’ve got teeth. I was actually going to tell her that she was incredible, because she was.’
He managed to get off the stage then, but not before a severe hugging from Wendy and Lydia, and by the time he got to the changing room it was a scrum. He felt himself pitch forward under a hearty back slap from Doug, who then got hold of his arm and held it aloft as if he were a victorious prize fighter.
‘Round of applause for the new guy,’ he said. ‘Looks like a right wuss, but he’s got balls of steel. I couldn’t have done it without him.’ There were shouts and laughter, and people were shaking his hand and saying they forgave him for being so young, and had he thought about abandoning the south and coming and living with them?
Mack pulled off his costume and made a hash of getting into his clothes, all the while keeping an eye out for Jennifer. If he played it right he could leave before she even made it off the stage. He heard her in the corridor, being emoted at by Pamela and just caught a glimpse of her as she walked past the door. She mouthed ‘Thank you’ at him, her eyes still bright and her face a little flushed. He grabbed at his socks and stuffed his feet into them and swore as he tangled the laces on his brogues. As he removed his fleece from the clothes rail, a coat hanger fell to the floor with a clatter.
‘Going somewhere, marra?’ Doug asked.
‘No, just feeling a bit chilled.’
‘I’ll get you working up a sweat. Come on, help me get the booze oot the costume loft.’
Mack looked at his watch. Ten forty-five. Last plane gone; last train going in about half an hour. He’d get a taxi to the airport anyway, stay in a hotel there, and be on the first flight out on Saturday.
In the hall, the chairs were already stacked to one side and plates of food were being put on long trestle tables. Music was playing. ‘Here he is,’ Danny’s voice boomed and Mack turned to see him and Bryony.
‘Wasn’t she wonderful?’ Bryony said, and Danny just put his arm round Mack’s shoulders. ‘Thanks, mate, she listened to you. We always give her too easy a time.’
Mack didn’t know if he could bear it, the catch in Danny’s voice, the brightness of his eyes that suggested he was close to tears. He heard himself speak, not sure what he was saying and then Brenda and Ray were there too. Brenda took both of his hands in hers. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’ve been unfair to you. Rude even. You’ve been a good friend to Jen. Thank you.’ Ray simply shook his hand, his lips pressed together in a way that suggested he did not trust himself to talk.
Please, stop being so nice to me.
The hall was rapidly filling with the cast and their friends and relations, and Mack saw Jennifer over near the stage talking to Sheila. He moved slowly towards the main door and the outside world. He would have made it too, if Finlay had not suddenly jumped up on to the stage and clapped his hands and start
ed to make a speech thanking just about everyone and their dog.
‘And finally,’ he said, ‘on a quite amazing night for all kinds of reasons –’ everyone saw him look towards Jennifer – ‘there’s one person to whom we owe a huge vote of thanks, and to show our appreciation, we’ve got him a little gift. Matt … where are you, Matt?’
Mack stuck his hand up and was pushed towards the stage.
‘Matt, for being a sweet talker and for putting up with a lot of ribbing about your age, we’d like to give you this.’ Finlay held aloft a large sugar dummy. There was a roar of laughter and Mack had to climb up on the stage and smile and say thank you.
He looked down at Jennifer looking up at him and felt the happiness radiating from her. This was how he would remember her. He was going to go backstage now and push open the fire-exit door and go. He could ring O’Dowd from the airport hotel.
He found himself standing next to her.
‘Hello, you,’ she said. ‘Was I all right?’
He could have just nodded. He could have just nodded and gone.
‘You were brilliant,’ he said, ‘a different kind of acting. Not like anything I’ve seen before.’ He moved closer. ‘Much better than your cousin. Less showy.’
Perhaps she could hang on to this when everything else he’d done to her was going to push her right back into her shell.
She laughed up at him again, and he felt this wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he have met her somewhere else?
‘Tell me,’ he said, looking at her hair, trying to memorise the exact shades of blonde within it, ‘now you’ve done it once, will you do it again?’
‘I don’t know. It felt … it felt …’ There was that gorgeous smile. ‘Fantastic.’
He drifted towards the main door again, but then Sheila collared him and told him that the sight of him in tights had made the cost of the ticket worthwhile, and soon he was back standing next to Jennifer, and Ray and Brenda were waving goodbye from the door.
‘They going already?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ Jennifer said and he felt her hand connect with his and he did not move it away until Angus came and hugged her. He and Jocelyn left together, and Mack wondered if those two were going to have sex tonight.
No, don’t think of the S word. Go to the loo and then slip away.
‘Time to lock up,’ Doug said, jangling the keys at them and Mack was confused. Where had everyone gone? He looked at his watch again. Midnight. He might as well just get a taxi straight to the airport and sit and wait for a plane.
‘I’ll give you both a lift home,’ Doug said, and Mack stumbled out to the car and sat in the back with Jennifer, his thigh resting against her thigh. He felt as if he was and was not there.
When Doug stopped the car outside Brindley Villas and Mack opened the door, the rush of fresh air brought him to his senses. He needed to get away, but as he climbed out of the car he saw Doug turn and say to Jennifer, ‘This is as far as I’m going. You need to get out too.’
Soon she was standing by his side and they were watching Doug drive away. There was just the two of them and all that silence.
‘Well then,’ Jennifer said. ‘I’d better head off.’ She looked as if she were dreaming too.
‘I’ll walk you home. We’ll need a torch.’
‘Maybe not. Look at the moonlight.’
No, I am not looking at the moonlight, or the stars, or at you.
He felt her hand touch his again and this time she knotted her little finger around his little finger as they walked.
He would just see her to within sight of the farm and then run back and call a taxi.
They had not even reached Peter Clarke when he felt her let go of his hand and turn to face him and he swore he heard hundreds of things out there in the dark lift their furry heads and look at them.
He knew what she was going to do before she even started to lean forward. He saw her close her eyes and then her lips were on his and although every part of his body was telling him to wrap his arms around her, he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away.
‘Jennifer, I can’t,’ he said.
If he kissed her once how would he stop? How much worse would that make his betrayal? Cressida Chartwell was going to throw the book at him for the deception he’d already carried out; go any further and it would be the whole library hurtling his way.
He saw the face that had looked so alive shut down again, and there was that shame back in her eyes. She was stumbling away.
‘Don’t say anything,’ she cried out. ‘All your fine words earlier, they meant nothing. You didn’t believe any of them.’
He was careering after her. ‘Jen, Jen.’ He caught her by the arm. ‘I know you think I pushed you away because of your face. But it wasn’t that.’
She rounded on him and he could see the tears.
‘What was it then?’
‘I’ll have to go away soon.’ He tried to catch her other arm. ‘I don’t want to lead you on and then leave you … I don’t want to hurt you like that.’ One last lie: a white one to make her feel better.
She shook herself free of him, made a fierce little sobbing noise. ‘Don’t treat me like a child; everyone treats me like a child. Shouldn’t I decide whether I’m prepared to get hurt or not?’
But you have no idea how badly I’m going to hurt you.
He looked at her with the moonlight shining on her hair, her eyes blazing at him and didn’t want to think or talk any more. He reached forward and, pulling her to him, kissed her right on the mouth. It was an angry kiss to start with and she was still trying to pull away from him, but as he tasted her and felt her lips under his it became a falling-in-and-drowning kiss that reached down into his chest and to his groin. Right there under the huge Northumberland sky with the stars spread out above them and the dark countryside wrapped around them, he held her and kissed her remorselessly to show her how beautiful she was to him, and he felt her kiss him back and very soon the only thing he was thinking about was taking her inside and stripping her naked. Tomorrow could go to Hell; O’Dowd could go to Hell and when it came down to it, the entire world could go to Hell too.
CHAPTER 33
I will pinch myself.
She had woken with him wrapped around her, scared to move in case she broke the spell. Perhaps he’d had too much to drink last night: he would look at her in the bright light of morning and all this warmth and happiness would disappear.
‘Are you awake?’ she heard him say, but did not turn.
She felt him move and then she was being rolled on to her back. She didn’t resist even though she wanted to curl into a ball. He looked down at her, his brown eyes bleary, mouth sounding dry.
‘Stop trying to bury your face in the pillow,’ he said and then bent to kiss her on the lips. She opened up for him straightaway, felt the swirl and heat of desire in her breasts and between her legs. Moving her hands over him she reacquainted herself with what she had uncovered last night – muscled but not muscly, toned, long-limbed, flat-stomached. Skin that tasted faintly of citrus.
‘I had the loveliest time last night,’ she said, pulling away a little.
‘Me too.’ He kissed her on the cheek, and she could not stop her smile. He was not making a big thing of proving to her that her scarring made no difference to him. That would have set her teeth on edge. Instead he had treated that part of her like every other part of her. Actually that wasn’t true. Other parts of her he had given much more attention.
She felt him kiss a spot at the base of her neck, and then he looked up, his brown eyes no longer bleary but filled with mischief.
‘You showed me your favourite place in Northumberland,’ he said softly, ‘shall I show you mine?’
‘Uh …?’
He sat up and pulled the duvet completely away and she was so intent on looking at him she forgot to try and hide.
‘This is my favourite view,’ he said, lying back down by her side and running one hand over her
breast. He caressed it gently before letting his hand travel down the sweep of her stomach. ‘These hills and plains.’ He moved his hand to her thigh and nudged her legs apart. ‘This valley. These are my favourite places. You’re beautiful, Jen, so beautiful … whatever anyone else tells you in your life, you make me want you so much just by looking at you. You’re the best view in the world.’
She felt his hand burrow between her legs.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, wanting to hear it given a name.
‘Exploring. Exploring the beautiful countryside. How you feel. What turns you on. How we fit together.’
She gave a cry and arched her back and soon he had moved his hand and rolled on top of her and was inside her, and she concentrated on welcoming him in, and how it felt to have her arms around him in reality and not in a fantasy.
Sometime in the night Mack had woken up and panic had launched him out of bed before, just as quickly as it had come, it had gone. He had looked down at Jen asleep, her knees drawn up to her chest and suddenly found himself believing that everything was going to be all right. He sat down gently on the bed and knew that his biggest desire was to protect her – not from the world, but from O’Dowd, and now he had her safe in his bed, there must be a way.
He smiled at her sleeping. He knew now that there were other scars: a nasty, jagged one on the crest of her shoulder, a thinner one running up the inside of her arm from just above the elbow to her armpit. He imagined how she had got them, her face and body turning in the impact to break and then snag upon the glass. He saw her hanging half in and half out of the windscreen. It made him sick to think of it.
It didn’t make him sick to look at it, though, and when she woke up he was going to prove that to her again. He could see in her eyes last night that she didn’t quite believe what was happening, that perhaps he was drunk or it was a pity fuck.