Chapter 7
‘Aren’t you coming to the club?’ I ask Dolly as we make our way to the side entrance.
She shakes her head. ‘I need to be up early. Loads to do. You go ahead. You earned it.’
‘But I thought it was bad luck. Everyone in the ensemble has to toast the opening night. It’s a tradition.’
Dolly shrugs, confused. ‘Never heard of it. Anyway, remember what I said about –’ I follow her eyes to Luke, who is waiting at the taxi rank nearby, surrounded by girls. She has already warned me to take what Luke says with a pinch of salt - the whole ‘wife’ misunderstanding, as he is prone to charming everyone around him and saying things they want to hear.
‘You’ve no worries there, Dolly. I’m pretty sure we won’t get along off stage. We’re too different. He’s too…’
As though he has sensed we are talking about him, Luke suddenly turns in our direction. He smiles warmly at Dolly before being distracted.
‘Luke. Come with us in our taxi,’ shouts one of the chorus girls. They are dressed in skimpy outfits and towering stilettoes. I lose sight of them in the hustle and bustle, as more and more musicians pile out of the door and into the line of waiting taxis, which are rapidly disappearing.
I look pleadingly at Dolly. ‘Please come.’
Florrie suddenly appears beside me to tut loudly. ‘Who Dolly? She never comes. She hates dancing and having a good time. Hurry, Luke doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’
As she drags me away, Dolly smiles tightly. ‘Have a great night.’
We battle our way through the remaining crowd, Florrie darting ahead. I can’t see, but I can hear car doors slamming and engines roaring and quite a lot of beeping, as people spill out in front of the Opera House. Its huge stone pillars, packed with theatregoers and Sinfonia singers and musicians. I’m just about clearing the crowd when I’m knocked sideways by one of the musicians carrying a double bass over his back. I go careering into the people at my side, only to realise at the last second, that they part ways to let me fall right through them onto the road. I’m toppling backwards into actual moving traffic when two things happen at once. A massive horn blows, which appears to be from the headlights hurtling towards me, and a strong hand swoops from nowhere to grab my arm, yanking me back from being mowed down by a passing double decker bus.
Loud gasps and screams from the crowd drown out my own choked attempt at a scream. My hand flies to my chest. I can barely catch my breath. My eyes travel up to meet those of my saviour, and in that instant, I know that things will never be the same between Luke and me ever again.
‘He’s lovebombing you,’ explains Ged later that evening. ‘Why else would he buy you the most expensive champagne and insist on a limo to take you back to the hotel? Now, tell me again how he’s suddenly gone from zero to hero in the space of a few hours.’
I put Ged on speakerphone as I sit and take off all my make-up. He’s playing Devil’s advocate because Liam has gone full-on mancrush crazy for Luke since he saved my life.
‘Well, he began by saving my life… so there is that, of course. He was quite the hero.’
‘I can’t believe he saved your life! It’s text book romcom,’ Liam yells excitedly into the phone. ‘You’ll have to bloody marry him now.’
‘I think you’ll find she’s wildly in love with Matteo, Liam. Don’t confuse her,’ Ged says, as though my head could be turned so easily.
‘And he also said that because of me, the Sinfonia had had the best opening night in recorded history,’ I can’t help gloating.
‘What if meeting him is fate? Destiny?’ asks Liam. He’s become very invested, very quickly.
‘Hmmm,’ Ged frowns. ‘Or… maybe it’s too much of a coincidence how he just happened to be in the exact right place at the exact right time.’
Liams gasps loudly. ‘What are you insinuating? That Luke is an unbelievably lucky have-a-go hero?’
‘Or… another option is that he’s a highly functioning sociopath,’ Ged says, throwing himself into the role.
What an exhausting night it has been. Euphoric in one way and completely overwhelming in others. ‘It felt heroic and by chance at the time, if that helps. I mean, it all happened so incredibly fast, I can hardly believe it either, but he was the perfect gentleman all night. I swear.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s start from the beginning.’
‘Well, by the time I got changed and went to the stage door, most of the musicians had already left in the taxis.’
‘Convenient.’
‘He means gallant,’ says Liam.
‘Fortunately, Luke waited for me, which I didn’t know. Then, after he saved me from going under a bus, he insisted on taking me back to the hotel because I was a bit shaken.’
‘Like a stalker isolating its prey, yes, yes…’
‘Like a gentleman,’ Liam is having none of it. ‘Ignore him.’
‘But I didn’t want any fuss because literally everyone was staring at us, so we got in the next taxi. And when we arrived at the club, he went straight to the bar to get me a stiff drink.’
‘I think I can guess where this is leading,’ Ged says. ‘Was it spiked?’
I ignore him. ‘Then, he introduced me to some Dame or other, who is patron of the London Opera House, and she asked if Luke and I would consider an exclusive performance in front of the Royal family for some anniversary they are organising.’ My mind is still blown.
‘Where did this conversation take place exactly?’
‘In a private room at the club. It made sense to sit together… in a booth… away from the noise. Because of the shock from earlier.’
‘Cosy. Go on,’ Ged says, suddenly sounding like a Chief Inspector. ‘What happened next?’
‘I tried to make casual conversation and mentioned that Dolly, the tour manager…’
‘Is Dolly the woman who looks like a pudding?’
I nod guiltily. I’m a woman’s woman. I need to start thinking like one. I will start by being more charitable towards Dolly. She has to be everything to everyone all at once.
‘Who had previously claimed that she was not his wife? Yet conveniently failed to testify if he was married or unmarried?’
This is not the time to pull him on his semantics. ‘She has a really busy job. It’s like herding —’
‘Let’s stick to the facts.’
‘Ged, this isn’t a police report.’
‘Tell that to the judge when all of this goes to court.’
He’s transforming into Judge Judy before my very eyes. And Liam seems to quite like it.
‘So, I said to Luke, “Dolly told me she wasn’t your actual wife”. And he said, “No, of course she isn’t. It was you who called her my wife. Anyway, she’s gay.” Then I said, “Oh really? That’s nice.” Because now I think back, I did refer to Dolly as his wife but he did play along with me which was a bit misleading. So I said, “You really must be clearer when declaring your relationship status”. Then he looked confused and turned back to talk to Dame whatever she was called. He thinks we should definitely do a private performance for the Royal family because it would open all sorts of doors for me.’
‘And you still don’t know if he is married to someone else?’
I shake my head.
‘Does he wear a ring or give off married vibes?’
‘No, but I suppose that isn’t evidence of being married these days. Anyway, like I said. There’s nothing to worry about. He saved my life; I’ll be forever grateful and we’re singing partners. Nothing more. Hardly seems relevant anyway, seeing as I’m not interested in him like that. He’s no match for Matteo.’
Ged ignores me. He’s seen how ridiculously good-looking Luke is for himself. Apparently, he’s blown up on TikTok. ‘Well, it’s great that he was there to save your life, but I’d watch out for him. Something doesn’t add up. And Liam says his eyes are too far apart. Still, well done tonight. I knew you’d smash it. We’re very proud of you. Can’t wait to see you at the end of the tour.’
‘I said his eyebrows were too far apart. Now get plenty of sleep,’ Liam says, blowing me a kiss. ‘You have a big day of avoiding temptation tomorrow.’
‘But I don’t find him remotely –’
The next morning, I drift downstairs feeling a little smug with myself. I really did give a top-notch performance last night. I wish I could ring Matteo and tell him all about it. Instead, I left him a rather excitable voicemail. Hopefully, the Sinfonia will be in the local news today, and I can send him the link. I hope they feature me singing in that ruby-red costume. It was divine. I looked amazing in it.
‘Hey, Constance,’ Dolly calls over to me. ‘You’re late. And what did I tell you last night about not getting involved with Luke? Now BBC radio Manchester wants an interview with the pair of you later this morning. Maestro is not pleased, let me tell you.’
‘Is this about Luke saving my life?’
‘Saving your life? No. He never mentioned that. It’s the other thing.’ She shakes her head as though I’ve done something I shouldn’t and returns her attention to the plate piled high with eggs and sausage in front of her.
I have no idea what she means, but as I walk towards the buffet counter and pick up a hot plate, a hush settles across the dining area, and I feel like I’m being watched. I circle slowly while musicians and choir members whip their heads away, busying themselves, poking food around on their plates. There is definitely an atmosphere.
The only people not inspecting their continental breakfasts are the group of chorus girls who are regarding me with cold and hostile expressions.
I grab up a few pastries and sit down at Dolly’s table. ‘You haven’t seen the reviews,’ she says. ‘Have you?’
‘No, not yet.’ I won’t bother telling her that I didn’t think newspapers did that anymore. Who reads them anyway?
‘They’re over there.’ She nods to a table covered in newspapers.
I get up and go over to the table. Nobody is even trying to pretend they’re not watching me.
I take in the papers spread out, open at the appropriate review sections.
Shitting, shitting Hell.
Once back in my hotel room, I’m straight on the phone to Ged. His lovely face pops up on my screen immediately, and I sweep the camera over the newspapers so he can take in the headlines.
‘Oh My God! What will I do?’ I plead.
‘Calm down. Matteo’s in LA. He’s not going to see you making out on stage with the UK’s most fanciable tenor. Although, those headlines are a bit much.’
‘I can’t believe this is happening. It’s a nightmare. And I wasn’t making out with him. We were acting. Immersed in the part. Mi Amore Mi Amore is quite demanding, emotionally.’
‘Hmmm. I’m sure it is, love. But the pictures do make it look like you’re about to kiss.’
‘It’s the angle. I don’t even know who took those pictures.’
I stare blankly at my face glowing up the tabloids. The reviews are incredible. It’s the headlines that are the worry. And the accompanying pictures of me gazing lovingly at Luke mid-song that they’ve chosen to print. Opera’s newest power couple bring the house down while Lady Hermione Greene , who just happens to be related to the Royal family, looks sadly at us from the imperial box. I examine the pictures of Luke and me on stage, practically in each other’s arms, singing, while she gazes at us with a wistful expression on her face. She was probably swept up in the emotion. You could hear a pin drop once that song was over. There are false accusations that I have stolen her first love away from her. The article insinuates that the three of us are swept up in a royal love triangle. There is hardly any mention of the Maestro or the musicians or the Sinfonia.
‘That’s certainly one way to get yourself noticed,’ says Ged.
Judging by the hostile reaction of everyone downstairs, after only one night, I have alienated the entire ensemble of singers and musicians, the tour manager and our precious Maestro yet again.
‘Is any of it true? Did Luke mention that he went to school with a princess?’ Ged asks, still collecting evidence. ‘Were they childhood sweethearts? Does she still have a crush on him?’
‘How would I know? I only met him yesterday! We’re not at the who was your first crush, or how do you feel about throuples stage yet. Besides, I haven’t seen him today. He could be furious about it.’
‘Or he could be the one behind it. Orchestrating his own publicity. Like you say, we don’t know him.’
‘What if Matteo sees it?’ I say, suddenly realising how the article might look to him. After all, we never did discuss whether our relationship is exclusive or not.
‘Matteo isn’t daft. He’ll know it’s just clickbait. You could try ringing him to explain.’
‘He said his phone will be switched off most of the week. Do you think this is important enough to disturb him?’
‘Depends. Which artist is Matteo working with? Did he say?’
‘No. It’s top secret. He’s signed a — ‘
‘An NDA! Fucking hell, Connie. Please let it be Harry. Or Swiftie! Birdie produced two songs on her last album.’
Oh, Christ. Here we go. ‘I’m sure it isn’t, but even if it was, there’s no way either of them will want to be invited to the stag do.’
‘Pre-moon spree, dear. And could you at least try to get on board? You are best woman,’ Ged reminds me.
Suddenly, the colossal number of things I need to do hits me. Costumes, hair, nails and song lists to sort for Benidorm next week. Costumes, song lists, pre-moon spree venues and activities to sort for Las Vegas the week after that.
At least it will keep me busy and out of the press.
‘I’ll try and find out.’ I blow him a kiss and see his face light up. ‘I will make sure you have the most amazing time ever. I promise.’
We are disturbed by a gentle knock at my door.
‘Who is it?’ I call out.
‘It’s me, Luke. Can I come in, please?’ he does not sound happy. ‘There are a few things we need to discuss.’
I turn back to my phone screen. Ged is very concerned. ‘Connie. Do not let him in, whatever you do. Okay? I know he saved your life but I have a bad feeling about him,’ he warns me. ‘Send him away. This is no time for politeness or manners.’