by Fay Keenan
‘I thought you might like a bit of sugar while you’re busy rehearsing,’ he said, putting the bag of cakes on the table.
‘You might not feel that way when Josie asks you what she’s got to ask you,’ Florence said slyly, but she helped herself to a doughnut before Sam could change his mind.
‘Oh yes?’ Sam looked warily from Florence to Josie, whose eyes were glinting with a combination of amusement and trepidation.
Quickly, Josie filled Sam in on Tom’s unfortunately timed accident. Sam’s face transitioned from sympathy to horror in the space of three sentences.
‘Are you having a laugh?’ he said when Josie paused. ‘I mean, learning the lines is one thing, but actually standing onstage playing the role?’
‘But you did say you were taking a week off to help Aidan redecorate the kitchen and living room,’ Florence insisted, deciding in for a penny and all that, and somewhat infected by Josie’s steamrolling persuasive tone. ‘So you won’t get called into work, and you should have plenty of time to learn the blocking as well as polish up the lines.’
‘Well, yeah, I have got a week off, but I’d planned on painting walls, drinking beer and sleeping late every day, not prancing around in someone else’s costume pretending to be in love with you!’
‘I’m hardly over the moon at that prospect either, you know,’ Florence replied tartly. ‘I mean, at least Tom was a semi-pro. How do I know you’ll be able to remember lines and move at the same time?’ Embarrassment because this wasn’t the way she’d imagined their first conversation since their kiss that morning going, and nervousness because she was genuinely worried that they’d both be making fools of themselves onstage on Saturday, made her voice shriller than it should have been, and for a moment she really did feel as though she was channelling Beatrice.
Both of them looked over to Josie, who, to Florence’s chagrin, was grinning broadly. ‘You two sound like you’ve already psyched yourself into the roles,’ she said. ‘See? All you have to do is work on the blocking and it’ll be fine.’ She looked down at her notes as both Sam and Florence tried to protest. ‘And if it makes you feel better, we’ll do a press release for the local media that lets everyone know about the eleventh-hour change of cast, and I’m sure the audience will be right on your side.’
Florence gave an exasperated sigh, but even as she did, at the back of her mind and in the pit of her stomach she was feeling a tingle of anticipation. Would it really be such a bad thing to be acting alongside Sam? All right, so Tom was the professional, and they’d perfected their snippy Bea-and-Ben banter over the past six weeks until both were able to anticipate the other’s lines and moves almost with their eyes closed, but she was always one for embracing the unpredictable, and she was nothing if not adaptable. Dad, you have a lot to answer for, she said silently.
‘It sounds like we’ve not got a choice,’ she said, finally, realising that Sam and Josie were looking for a response from her. ‘And,’ she paused, turning to Sam with a game smile, ‘it’s not as if you haven’t come to any rehearsals at all. I’m sure it’ll be fine.’
‘Fine,’ Sam conceded. ‘I’d better phone Aidan and tell him not to expect me back for a while then, hadn’t I? We seem to have some rehearsing to do.’
‘That’s the spirit!’ Josie said, the relief evident in her voice now that her two leads had come to an agreement of sorts. ‘After all, it’s hardly The Globe. The audience aren’t expecting RSC standards from any of us, thank God!’
Florence’s stomach, turning somersaults until thirty seconds ago, gave an almighty rumble. She reached for another doughnut from the bag of cakes that Sam had brought along with him and bit into it, spilling sugar all down her black T-shirt. Heedless, she polished it off, ignoring the glances that Josie and Sam were giving her.
‘Well, when you’ve quite finished stuffing your face, I suggest we get rehearsing, don’t you?’ Josie grinned and helped herself to a cake, too.
A little while later and Sam was being walked through the blocking in the makeshift stage area in the performance space of the museum. This was just as tricky as learning the lines, as Tom, Josie and Florence had worked out weeks ago where they should be standing for each scene, and, even trickier, how they should move during and after speaking.
‘That’s it, and just a little closer to where the altar space is meant to be… yes, good.’ Josie glanced at her copy of Act 3 Scene 2 that she had on her clipboard and then motioned for Florence to give her line.
Florence took a deep breath. Josie was really throwing her in the deep end by skipping all of the ensemble scenes and focusing on the Beatrice and Benedick moments. If she didn’t know better…
‘When you’re ready, Florence,’ Josie repeated, raising one eyebrow.
‘Um, sure, sorry.’
Florence felt Sam slipping closer to her as Josie had directed, taking on that persona of Benedick when he becomes less playful soldier and more earnest lover, before swearing to do potentially the most dreadful deed of his life for the woman he realises he loves. It was a scene that had reduced Florence to tears when she’d watched Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson do it on film, and she hoped she could do justice to it in this small stage version.
As Sam delivered his lines, falteringly at first, but then with increasing confidence, Florence felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck. For a moment she could feel him really becoming his version of the character, and as he drew closer to her, preparing to give Josie’s version of the ‘I do love no one in the world so much as you’ line, she felt Beatrice under her skin, too, responding to Sam’s Benedick with heart and soul.
‘OK, and just break there,’ Josie’s voice intruded into Beatrice and Benedick’s private world before the moment got too intense. ‘Let’s just run through the end scene, and then you two can go and learn some lines on your own before the dress rehearsal tomorrow evening.’ She sighed. ‘I hope you-know-who doesn’t have a blue fit when he finds out Tom’s been replaced.’ She was referring to the notoriously grumpy, but devastatingly attractive Chris Charlton, who was playing Don John. Much like his character, he didn’t take kindly to last-minute changes of costume, let alone personnel.
‘He’ll just have to lump it,’ Florence said. ‘After all, it’s me who has the lion’s share of the stage time with the replacement!’
‘Thanks,’ Sam said drily. ‘Talk about filling a man with confidence.’
Florence flushed. ‘Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, we’d better go and rehearse a bit more. Your place or mine?’
Sam grinned. ‘Better go to mine – Aidan will doubtless want to be the willing audience.’
Florence felt a faint sting of disappointment – there was a part of her that wanted to be alone with Sam for a couple of hours, just to get to grips with the mammoth task ahead of them, but all the same, she realised that it was important to Sam to keep an eye on Aidan. ‘OK then.’ She grabbed her coffee and turned back to Josie. ‘I’ll see you back here at six o’clock tomorrow?’
‘Yup. Don’t be late,’ Josie replied. ‘I’ll need you two to pull out all the stops if we’re going to reassure the cast.’
With that, Sam and Florence headed off to cram in as many lines as they could before running the gauntlet of a full dress rehearsal the following evening. Florence couldn’t help feeling a flutter in her stomach that wasn’t entirely due to nerves about the impending performance. The thought of kissing Sam again, even if they were in role, was a tantalising one.
19
‘OK, let’s go from Act 2 Scene 4,’ Florence said. She glanced up at Sam from where she was sitting by the roaring fire in the living room. Aidan, who was playing the part of their audience, grinned from the sofa where he was ensconced.
‘Great idea,’ Aidan said. ‘Isn’t that the bit where you get to give each other a massive snog at the end?’
Florence blushed. She wasn’t sure if Sam would have said anything to Aidan about what had happened after the helicopter flight, an
d she certainly didn’t want to bring it up if he hadn’t. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it as it was. ‘We don’t have to practise that bit,’ she said hastily. ‘We don’t have to go that far until we’re on stage.’
‘Shame,’ Aidan replied. ‘I reckon he needs the practice!’
‘Shut your face, little brother,’ Sam good-naturedly threw a patchwork cushion in Aidan’s direction. He didn’t seem to be fazed by Aidan’s ribbing, and, much to Florence’s quiet chagrin, didn’t even glance in her direction. ‘And remember, it’s not me she’ll be kissing onstage anyway – it’s Benedick.’
Florence grimaced. ‘Much as I found Tom annoying when we started rehearsing together, and I still think Josie only cast him to wind me up, I’m actually kind of missing him, even if he has got an ego as big as his nose.’
‘Thanks,’ Sam said drily.
Florence blushed. ‘That’s not a reflection on you,’ she said. ‘It’s just that, West End wannabe as he was, we got into the rhythm of working together, and I thought we managed to pull off being Beatrice and Benedick reasonably well. In a way, his acting experience, although he made more of it than it probably was, was quite reassuring. Now I feel like I’m going to be carrying this production because you, through no fault of your own, have been dragged in at the last minute.’ Small town production or not, Florence suddenly felt the pressure of being one of the leads come crashing down upon her.
‘I promise I won’t let you down, Florence,’ Sam said softly. ‘I know I haven’t had as much time to rehearse as Tom, but I really think we can do this play justice. After all, it’s hardly the West End, is it?’
‘I know,’ Florence replied. She grinned suddenly. ‘I just sometimes can’t help my inner perfectionist. It’s not a trait that’s terribly helpful as a teacher, and, it seems, as an actor, either.’ She glanced up and saw Sam’s eyes reflecting the warmth from the open fire in the grate in front of them and felt a little more measured.
‘Look on the bright side,’ Aidan said suddenly from his spot on the sofa. ‘Tom’ll have to think of a whole load more excuses to spend time with you now he’s not in the play any more!’
‘Fat chance,’ Florence muttered. ‘Besides, he’s not interested in me.’
‘How do you know?’ Sam raised an eyebrow.
Florence giggled. ‘Put it this way; he was more excited when he found out you were his understudy than he was that I’d been cast as dear old Bea. I’m not tall, macho and male enough for him.’
‘Really?’ Sam shifted in his seat uncomfortably. ‘Well, that’s a turn-up for the books. I had no idea.’
‘You surprise me,’ Florence replied, conveniently forgetting that it was Josie who’d first brought the question of Tom’s preferences to her attention. ‘Thankfully, he was very good at acting like he’s in love with me, whatever the actual truth to the contrary. Unfortunately, he won’t get the chance to show that now.’
‘You reckon Tom’s gay?’ Aidan asked, before Sam could find his place in the script once more. ‘How do you know?’
Florence glanced at him, surprised by the question. ‘Well, I caught him swiping through a dating app during a break in rehearsal one afternoon. He saw me looking and, rather than try to hide the phone, he asked me what I thought of the next few profiles! I’m not sure he actually contacted any of the guys I suggested, though.’
‘Hmmm,’ Aidan replied, a little non-committally, before going back to the copy of the script he was holding. ‘Interesting.’
‘Interesting why?’ Florence asked.
Aidan was prevented from replying when the alarm went off on Sam’s phone. He glanced at it and switched it off, and looked pointedly at Aidan, who grimaced good-naturedly.
‘Bear with me,’ Aidan said, rising from the sofa. ‘It’s tablet time.’
As Aidan wandered off to the bathroom to take his medication, Florence turned back to Sam. ‘Thank you for stepping in at such short notice,’ she said softly. ‘I bet it’s the last thing you want to do with your time off, but if we don’t put the performances on, we’ll lose all of the money for the SAA.’
‘I know,’ Sam replied. ‘I just can’t help being a bit nervous about being on stage in less than a week’s time.’
‘I’ll do everything I can to make it as easy as possible,’ Florence promised. Just as she was about to take a breath to ask him what, if anything, that kiss this morning meant to him, Aidan came back into the room. She hurriedly turned back to her script.
For a little while longer, they practised a couple more lines from the opening scene, much to Aidan’s amusement, and, feeling distinctly peckish after that, Florence got her phone out and idly checked to see if any of the takeaway delivery services had reached Willowbury as yet.
‘It’s at times like this that I miss living near the centre of York,’ Florence grumbled. ‘Not even Pizza Hut delivers out this far.’
‘The kebab shop does pizzas if you fancy one,’ Aidan said. ‘And we’ve got an Indian and a Chinese takeaway in the village, and the chip shop is to die for. Best fish this side of Plymouth, apparently.’
Florence laughed. ‘For two such health-conscious blokes, who used to be in the forces, you clearly know your takeaways.’
Sam joined in the laughter. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment, I think.’
Florence rummaged in her bag for her purse. ‘I’m up for sharing a pizza, if you are.’
Aidan batted away the ten-pound note she’d found. ‘My treat this time. I’ll head out and grab some pizzas if you two sort out the plates.’
‘Will you be OK on your own?’ Sam asked, which was met with an impatient glance from Aidan.
‘Of course,’ Aidan replied. ‘I think I can make it there and back without getting lost. It is in the middle of the town, after all.’
‘OK,’ Sam said. ‘But call me if…’ he trailed off.
‘I’ll see you in half an hour,’ Aidan said firmly.
Was Florence imagining it or did Aidan throw his brother a knowing glance as he left the two of them alone?
As the front door slammed, Sam let out a breath. ‘Don’t say it,’ he said as he got up from where he’d been sitting to watch Aidan wandering down the road from his vantage point at the living room window.
‘Say what?’ Florence asked gently.
‘That I’m being overprotective. I know I am. But old habits and that.’ He smiled apologetically.
‘I thought he was on more of an even keel these days,’ Florence said. ‘I mean, he seems very calm and together.’
‘When he’s taking his medication properly and getting enough sleep, then life is a whole lot calmer,’ Sam turned back from the window and sat back next to Florence on the floor. ‘But, unfortunately, either the meds upset his stomach or he forgets to take them, and then we take two steps backward. It’s a long game. When he doesn’t take them… well, you’ve heard the milder consequences through the wall!’
Florence nodded. ‘I guess it’s something that changes all the time,’ she said softly. ‘But I know he must be grateful to have you in his corner.’
‘He wasn’t always,’ Sam replied. ‘I think he blames himself for my resigning my commission. He knows how much I loved being in the navy, and he can’t quite come to terms with the fact that I left, as he sees it, to be his carer.’
‘But that’s not quite true,’ Florence replied. ‘I mean, you’re at work full time.’
‘Yes, but he can blow things out of proportion sometimes. He had a very dark time when he was first pensioned out of the army. He struggled to process what had happened to his unit; why he had survived when the rest had died in the IED explosion. No matter how many times he was told that his life would be a “new” normal rather than going back to what it was before, it took a long time for him to adapt, to accept that things would never be the same.’ Sam glanced around the warm, cosy living room, which was now decked out with a Christmas tree, although no other decorations. ‘This place gives him a kind of p
hysical security – there’s no mortgage and he has a generous pension because of what happened to him, but emotionally he still has to take one day at a time.’
‘As do you, presumably,’ Florence said without thinking, and then blushed. ‘Sorry, that’s a bit personal.’
Sam smiled. ‘I won’t lie and say it’s been easy, making the adjustment to civilian life after being in the navy for nine years. The discipline and routine of what I did embedded some pretty hard-to-break routines, and I miss the constant presence of people, being part of something. But working as part of the air ambulance crew is just as rewarding, especially that team camaraderie when a job’s gone well. And no day is ever the same, of course.’
‘Do you miss it, though?”
‘Of course,’ Sam replied. ‘Although I’m still part of the Royal Navy Reserves, too, who are based at Yeovilton. I get to keep my hand in for twenty-four days a year at least, and wear the uniform from time to time.’ His eyes sparkled in the low light of the fire, the enthusiasm for his old job breaking through.
‘You speak really well about it,’ Florence observed. ‘How would you like to come into my school and talk to some students?’
Sam laughed. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Sure. We’re looking for speakers for the Careers Day in early February. I know the kids would love to hear about your current job, and, if you’re happy to talk about it, your former one. Will you give it some thought?’
‘I haven’t set foot in a school since I left my own,’ Sam said. ‘And I kind of like it that way.’ He paused a little before adding, in a slightly huskier voice, ‘But since it’s you… I’ll definitely think about it. When do you need to know for sure?’
‘Sometime in the new term, but definitely by the end of January,’ Florence replied. ‘We’re putting the itinerary together to send home to parents in the first week of February, so you can think about what you might say to them.’