by Katie Ginger
Sarah rubbed her forehead feeling hot and sweaty. Her desk fan was still not working and she’d been forced to make an old-fashioned one out of paper. She must have got dehydrated in the heat and it was affecting her body temperature. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Just think about it for a moment.’
But Sarah was struggling to think. She’d had a long day at work with angry patients shouting at her and giving her more intimate information than she needed. She was never going to get the image Mrs Williams had described of her husband’s abscessed scrotum out of her mind. What she wanted was to go home and prepare for her date. The one she’d dreamed of for ages, and every time she did, her heart thumped in her chest. She wanted to paint her nails, do a facemask, that sort of thing.
‘There’s no rush,’ Nate said again. ‘It’ll give Gregory and Cecil time to think of another way of interrupting us.’ This genuinely made her smile and Nate grinned back at her. Crikey, that smile was a killer.
‘I’m surprised they’re not listening at the door now, or out the front, peering through the window.’ She glanced over just in case they were.
‘Maybe they’ll ask if we need some more wine,’ he said, taking his glass and a large sip.
‘It’ll take me all evening to finish this one. They don’t do half portions.’ She picked up her own glass.
‘No, they don’t, do they?’ After they’d taken a sip, Nate began again. ‘Let’s try a different approach. What do you think of her relationship with Prospero?’
God, it was like being in a job interview. Sarah was sure her T-shirt was beginning to stain from the damp sweat patches forming under her arms. She really didn’t need this tonight. All she wanted was to relax. She didn’t need this … this … homework club.
‘Sarah?’
This had gone on long enough. ‘Look, I know you’re trying to help me and I really appreciate it, but honestly, I just need to know how to say the lines.’
Nate reached out and his hand lightly rested on hers sending a shockwave through her. She must have been sweaty or something because he balked and pulled back. Standing up, Nate paced the room. ‘I know it may seem pointless but please trust me. Come on, what do you think of Miranda and Prospero. Is she a good daughter? Is he a good dad?’
‘Well,’ she said slowly, ‘Miranda’s a horrible, snotty daddy’s girl, isn’t she?’ And as the words came out of her mouth, uncontrolled, she paused. That was the crux of her problem. That was why she couldn’t play Miranda well. Miranda was a daddy’s girl and Prospero a devoted father. He’d raised her alone, protected her, been her everything. Just as her father had been to her when she was young. But unlike Prospero, Sarah’s father had given up the right to be a dad when he’d been greedy and stupid and got himself sent to prison, abandoning her. Sarah realised now she’d kept Miranda at arm’s length, not wanting to tap into her emotions and open herself up to having to love a father when the relationship with her own was so difficult. All this time she’d thought it was a sore heart over Vince and her single status holding her back, but it was something entirely different.
The pen dropped from Sarah’s fingers and she focused on the script, but the words didn’t register. Ben was back now and sorry for what he’d done. She had a choice to make, and a chance to rebuild their relationship to that of a loving father and daughter. With a click, like a lock being undone, Sarah’s body and mind flooded with anger and sorrow all at once. It must have registered in her expression because Nate reached out and his fingers barely touched hers. ‘Sarah, are you okay?’
His light blue eyes scanned her face and she shot up out of the chair. She had to go home. She had to get out of the hot stuffy room. She squeezed past Nate and opened the living-room door, knocking over Cecil, who held a plate of artistically displayed Twiglets that went flying into the air as he screeched and fell backwards into Gregory.
‘I was just coming to see if you wanted any nibbles,’ he said, regaining his composure. They’d obviously been ear-wigging at the door again but there was no stopping to tell them off. ‘What’s the matter?’ Cecil asked, concern written over his wrinkled forehead.
‘Nothing,’ she breathed out quickly. ‘I have to go, that’s all.’ Sarah made for the door, pulling it open with such force she nearly ripped the handle off. Without saying goodbye, she stepped into the street, the air weighing heavily on her chest. She needed the sea. It was always cooler on the beach, on her spot on the seafront where she could watch the waves roll in and out.
Through the window, she saw Gregory, Nate, and Cecil in an animated discussion with Nate clearly confused at what he’d done to necessitate such an exit. Sarah wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault but worried if she opened her mouth she might cry. She sped down the road towards the beach.
The main road was busy as she checked left and right, but with the swirling thoughts in her head she didn’t hear anything as she crossed. It was only as she approached the sea that the cadence of the waves began to soothe her. The pebbles scrunched under foot, some forcing their way into her sandals, hurting the bottoms of her feet but, ignoring the pain, she strode on. Finally at her spot, Sarah sat down, closing her eyes and listening to the sea. She matched her breathing to the in-out rhythm of the water, inhaling and exhaling slowly in perfect symmetry. Hungry gulls dived and squawked, children laughed and screeched away in the distance. Focusing on anything and everything, she repressed the voice in her head shouting at her to be kinder to her dad, to listen to Ben and forgive him. A small pile of stones fell down the brow behind her and she looked up to see Nate had followed her onto the beach.
Shit. She must have frightened the life out of him, acting like a complete nut job and legging it like that. He sat down, drawing his knees up and resting his arms on top. Sarah tried to think of something to say, to explain without explaining everything, but when she opened her mouth she couldn’t think of how to begin. Turning her eyes back to the sea, she watched the sun setting on the horizon and the pale shimmer of the water under its heavy rays.
Nate took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry if I said something to upset you.’
From the corner of her eye, Sarah watched for a second. He clearly had no idea why she’d reacted that way, but it was sweet of him to apologise. She couldn’t quite match up the man in front of her with the one she’d read about in the papers, the one at the heart of the scandal. Maybe there was more to his story, there was more to hers. ‘It wasn’t you,’ Sarah said at last. ‘It was Miranda.’ A small laugh escaped at how silly that sounded. Her emotions were churning inside her, making her hot as the anger surged, then cold as sadness took over. She couldn’t perform the play feeling like this, she’d have to pull out. There was no other way around it. Better to do it now when there was still time to cast someone else than keep pretending she could get over this and let everyone down at the last minute. ‘I don’t think I can play her.’
‘Yes you can. You’re very good,’ Nate said, reassuringly. ‘You’ve got a lot of talent, it’s just figuring out—’
‘No.’ Sarah shook her head. ‘I don’t think I can bring myself to do it.’
‘Why not?’ Nate’s voice was soft and quiet and almost floated towards her on the breeze.
‘Because it reminds me too much of my dad.’
‘The man who came to the theatre the other day?’
She nodded, surprised he remembered. She was even more surprised when, under his gentle gaze, she opened up to him, telling him the truth. ‘He’s just come out of prison. He was sent down for stealing from his firm, he was an accountant. False accounting, if you want to get technical. Just before my mum got diagnosed with terminal cancer. He was inside when she died.’ She might as well tell him, he wasn’t exactly in a position to judge her; his life was just as much of a mess, if not more. Plus he’d be gone soon anyway so it didn’t matter if he knew.
‘Sarah, I’m so sorry. That’s …’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t even imagine dealing with something like t
hat.’
‘And you call yourself an actor?’ His head spun towards her and seeing her smile, he mirrored it.
‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
‘No, it was just the three of us. Then the two of us.’ She gasped in a breath. ‘Then just me.’
‘So you had to deal with everything?’ Nate asked gently. Sarah nodded. To her relief, her eyes weren’t welling with tears and the raging sea of emotion was calming to a gentle ebb. ‘Did you want him to come back?’
‘I didn’t at first. But now …’ The sun shone onto her face, warming her up. ‘Lottie said I should think about how I’d feel if I lost him too. Before we’d managed to sort things out.’
‘That’s good advice.’
‘She’s a good friend.’ Sarah picked up a plain white pebble, rolling it around in her fingers, feeling its perfect smoothness. ‘It’s just all so complicated. Sometimes it feels like there’s too much to forgive.’
Nate’s voice was small and wavered slightly. ‘We all make mistakes.’
Sarah glanced over. Deep lines of concern were etched into his forehead and there was a sad droop to his mouth. Nate’s eyes were fixed on his feet, where he was moving the stones with his scruffy trainers. Was that what he’d done? Just made a mistake? There seemed to be more to it than that and Sarah wanted to ask what it was. Not out of nosiness, and she wouldn’t even consider going to the papers, but he was burdened with something and she wanted to help him if she could. ‘I’m sorry, this is the last thing you need at the moment.’
‘It doesn’t matter, I’m happy to listen. But I’m not …’ He kept his eyes away. ‘I’d like you to know that I’m not …’
‘What?’
Their eyes met and she studied his face. There was an unexpected softness to the angular features she hadn’t seen at first. A deeply unhappy soul lurked beneath the surface and she had the feeling that not many people saw that side of him. He didn’t seem the type to have lots of friends or be that gregarious and show-offy.
‘I’m just – I’m not the man I appear to be in the papers. It’s …’ He sighed.
‘Complicated?’ Their lives couldn’t be more different, but sitting here on the beach they were the same. Both trapped in complicated situations, both hurting.
‘Yes,’ he replied with a sad laugh. ‘Very, very complicated.’
Chapter 13
That evening Nate sipped his wine, sat with Gregory and Cecil in their glorious back garden. Calming birdsong filled the air and Nate reflected that never, in all the places he’d travelled, had he heard anything more glorious. The sky above was still a bright blue and clear of clouds. Gregory and Cecil were chatting about their day spent at the bookshop, gossiping good-naturedly about the customers while Mr Bennett lay out on the warm paving stones, soaking up the last of the day’s sun. It was a rare moment of serenity, but his mind kept wandering back to the earlier coaching session with Sarah, and the bolt of electricity that had shot through him when he’d touched her fingers. It had raced down his spine, powerful and significant, like nothing he’d ever experienced before. But he’d sworn off love, sworn off women. Love hadn’t worked out for him and neither had a one-night stand with no emotional involvement. He was better off playing it safe and closing off his heart, protecting it from any further damage. But still Sarah’s voice, honey-warm yet with a strength he admired, played in his head. Even thinking of it now lifted the hairs on his arms. Nate rubbed his right arm self-consciously, but stopped when his phone beeped with a short, simple message from Robin. Story breaking tomorrow. You got bumped today. Nate stood up from the table. ‘Would you excuse me a moment, please?’ An image of Sarah’s brown eyes floated across his mind but he ignored it.
Going into the living room and taking a seat on the sofa, he wondered what to do. Could he tell Gregory and Cecil? Should he? Nate felt so alone, he needed someone to turn to. Friends to turn to. Now he thought of it, Gregory and Cecil were friends, not just people helping him out of a tight spot. They’d been better friends than a lot of his own who hadn’t even texted or called. Marcus was the only one reaching out. He was still reminding Nate of one of Emma’s first lovers and asking some more questions. It was a heavy-handed way of justifying Nate’s actions and it wouldn’t work. He’d have to gently ask Marcus to stop because it was having the opposite effect to the one he intended, only serving to make him feel even more of a fool.
Was Sarah a friend? Something strange had passed between them on the beach earlier that afternoon. Something he could only describe as significant. Some kind of connection between them. She’d been so honest with him, he’d really wanted to be honest with her but a frisson of fear stopped him. He didn’t want her to think badly of him, which she would, of course. Their meeting had made him think about coming clean to the world, just apologising for everything and hoping they’d leave him alone after that. It was unlikely, but his conscience was telling him to do something, not just bury his head in the sand and let someone else clear up his mess. Robin was better equipped to handle these things, but it still felt cheap.
Being in a self-imposed media blackout, he wondered what had bumped him and, risking seeing something he didn’t want to see, he quickly checked the tabloid gossip pages on his phone. One of those female reality TV stars had fallen out of The Ivy and into the bins then punched a photographer in a drunken rage. Flashing your knickers then lumping a paparazzi was always going to trump him, he thought, ruefully.
For a moment Nate let his head fall backwards to rest on the cushions. He closed his eyes and tried to listen to the birdsong again, but the predominant sound was of Mr Bennett purring. The fat lazy cat had been curled up on the sofa fast asleep, but after a stretch, and looking up to see his friend, he’d begun to purr in contentment. Nate liked cats. He could get one if he wanted, now Emma wouldn’t object.
It had been just under two weeks since Hannah had come to the theatre, but it seemed like so much longer. Everything had changed. His whole life had been turned on its head. Being bumped from the front pages today showed that things would be forgotten eventually, but there would always be fall-out – mentions in the media whenever he was caught out and about, false rumours about co-stars – that sort of thing. Nate tapped his phone against his chin. He and Sarah had swapped numbers to arrange the next coaching session and he wondered if he should let her know what would be happening in tomorrow’s press. She probably wouldn’t care, it wasn’t like they’d known each other long, and she had her own troubles to deal with right now. He didn’t envy her. But he wanted to hear her voice, and he couldn’t hide in the living room forever. Standing, he went back to the kitchen.
Gregory and Cecil were still in the garden, a newly opened bottle of white sat between them on the garden table in a wine cooler, complete with folded tea towel. ‘Everything all right, dear boy?’ asked Gregory as Nate approached and sat down.
‘Not really, I’m afraid. I’ll be staying a bit longer if that’s okay.’
‘Of course,’ Gregory replied, his brow furrowed in concern.
‘We’re happy to have you,’ said Cecil, tapping his arm gently. Nate managed a small smile.
‘And you should know things are about to get …’ He was going to say worse, and in a way it was, but he couldn’t bring himself to call his child that and decided on ‘more complicated’.
‘Can you tell us?’ asked Gregory.
To which Cecil added, ‘If you can’t, it’s no problem, we won’t pry.’
‘It’s fine, I can tell you. It’ll all be out tomorrow anyway.’ He looked at Gregory. ‘Robin said you were a good friend and you’d help me through this.’
‘Oh, sweet, sweet Robin. How kind. And yes, we’ll help if we can.’ He turned to Cecil and they both nodded.
Nate’s heart swelled. How lucky he’d been to meet them, even though it wasn’t in the best of circumstances. He’d begun to feel so very much at home here in Greenley and could see why they had settled down here. A large m
outhful of wine helped relax him a little. ‘Before I begin, you should know that my marriage to Emma completely fell apart about eighteen months ago. She’d had some affairs and we’d grown into different people. She didn’t want kids …’ He paused, pushing down the mass in his throat. ‘I did, but the thing is, she doesn’t love me anymore.’
‘Did you still love her?’ asked Cecil, quietly.
‘Yes, for a long time after she stopped loving me, but …’ He realised now he was speaking of Emma and his marriage without an ache in his heart. Despite the situation, the physical distance between them was clearly helping, giving him space to see things clearly. ‘But I’m getting over it. We decided to stay married for the sake of our careers. Her father’s a top producer and I knew he could ruin my reputation if I ruined Emma’s. He wanted us to stay married too. It looked better. I know it sounds bad. But then one of her affairs started getting serious and she asked for a divorce. We were just starting to sort it all out, prepping for the media scrutiny when this happened. God, I sound so mercenary.’
‘Not at all, dear boy,’ Gregory replied. ‘Don’t forget I was in the West End at a time when some men preferred to be a in a loveless marriage than admit to themselves, and the world, they were gay. Needs must sometimes.’ A flicker of sadness passed over his face and Nate wondered who he was thinking of. Cecil reached out and took his hand, stroking it gently with his thumb.
‘It sounds like I’m making excuses for myself but I’m not. I still cheated and that was wrong, but I want you to know that it wasn’t that I cheated on a loving, caring wife. We’d grown very distant. Anyway, the divorce was planned for a month’s time. We were going to do it amicably, well, fairly amicably, you know, try and keep some dignity. Like that guy from Coldplay and Gwyneth Paltrow. I didn’t want to seem the bad guy and at the time there was nothing to throw at me. But when I met Hannah on my friend’s stag do, I was feeling really low and—’