Chapter Ten
A thick slat in one of the horizontal wooden blinds in Tommy’s bedroom had broken a while back. Sunshine shone through the gap, cutting across the teak headboard of his bed, onto his pillow and straight into his eyes. Most days he could guess the time by the invasion of light. No matter how much he turned away and squeezed his eyes closed, the blaze would nag him until he surrendered to waking.
He opened his eyes and instinctively turned his head on the pillow. Memories from last night floated back. Half of his double bed remained unused. He breathed out a sigh of relief. No awkward morning pleasantries or forced conversations. After he pulled himself onto his elbows, he noticed his jeans and shirt from the night before hanging neatly on the back of the bedroom chair.
Was Aaron right? Had he lost his touch?
There had been that good-looking daddy, a New Zealand investment banker with his friend, in town for a weekend conference. The friend, a handful of years younger, had clearly been smitten with the older man. Enjoying their banter, Tommy had let them ply him with drinks while they asked questions about the gay scene in Hong Kong. The older Kiwi had clearly wanted Tommy. All the signals had been there. But there had been something about the young friend, the sadness and desperation at being overlooked by somebody he worshipped in silence, that had tugged at Tommy’s heart. In much the same way Tommy yearned for Alec.
And there it was. He was saving himself for the best man. Simple. Eventually, as the place had become crowded, he’d faked a toilet run and escaped.
Last night had not been a complete bust. Up until his itch to get laid had surfaced, he’d enjoyed being with Mitchell and Zane. There was something to be said for easy and uncomplicated company.
Fully awake now, he staggered out of bed to his open kitchen and popped a capsule into the coffee maker. While the machine whirred and glugged, he plucked his phone from the charger, rested his back against the countertop and checked messages. Almost midday, and nothing. Perfect. His eyes slid down to an earlier message from Mitchell, probably sent from the taxi after they’d parted ways, thanking him for the evening and including a link to the biography section of Alec’s extreme sports website. After scratching a hand across his scalp, he fired off a quick thank you and ran through the things he needed to do. After he’d showered, he would try to phone Daley again about the magazine article. The sooner he found out the truth, the better. If all went well, maybe he’d ask about Alec, too.
Before he had a chance to dial the number, his phone rang. Shelly from school. He groaned. A call from her on a Sunday usually entailed one of the teachers being away sick or on unscheduled leave the next week, and he would have to cover their lessons. That also meant he would need to spend the afternoon going through lesson plans. He braced himself and took the call.
“Tommy. Sorry to disturb your Sunday. Can you help out with the play this afternoon? We were supposed to be doing a full run-through in the gym from two, but the bloody director has food poisoning. Inconsiderate bastard. She suggested spending the time running through the musical numbers and choreography, something they did to death last Thursday evening. As the assistant director, I eventually persuaded her that we could spend the time more wisely blocking movement with the actors while your team moves parts of the set around between scenes—”
“The set isn’t finished yet, Shell.”
“I know, I know. But couldn’t we use tables and benches to represent moveable parts? We’ve been working in an open space so far. Using objects will help the actors become familiar with the space they have available to them, with entrance and exit points, what is going to be where, and also what happens when. We did the same sort of thing back in Auckland when I directed a school production. Turned out to be time well spent.”
Shelly had a good point. They’d been known to leave that kind of detail until the technical rehearsal a few days before opening night.
“Excellent idea. And sure, I can be there. All the crew I’ve cobbled together so far will be there. But we don’t have everyone in place yet.”
“Yeah, I thought today might be a good chance for the cast to see what goes on behind the scenes. You mentioned that friend of yours, Mitchell, and his nephew wanting to help out. I know it’s a bit of a cheek, but can you get them to come along? You could also use the opportunity to ask the cast if they’ve got any friends or family members who might be willing to help.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad plan. Okay, bugger off and let me phone around. I’ll see you at one-thirty.”
Before anything, Tommy called Daley. Once again, the call went to his voice messaging service. He considered leaving a detailed message but instead asked Daley to call back. Once he had rung off, he sighed and shook his head. This issue of the mysterious woman was messing with his usual good mood. He decided to shelve the problem and concentrate on Shelly’s idea. He sent a quick note to the messaging group he’d created for the crew to tell them about the afternoon run.
Once he had finished, he thought back to what Shelly had said about Mitchell wanting his nephew involved. Apart from not remembering telling her, Zane had only just arrived. But they needed hands, and they did have a deal. Mitchell answered on the first ring, his greeting making Tommy smile.
“Wait a minute,” said Mitchell. “Can I put you on speaker? I’ve got Zane here with me.”
“As I was about to say,” continued Tommy, “we’re having a rehearsal of the play this afternoon. They want the backstage crew to get an idea of set-changes, stage furniture and props placement. Last night Zane said he’d be interested in helping out and I thought it might be a good chance for you and him to come meet the gang and get an idea of what’s involved. Only if you don’t have anything else planned. It’ll be from one-thirty until around five-ish. After that we usually stick around for a drink and a chat. I know it’s your day off, Mitchell—”
“He’s been ordered into work,” came Zane’s voice. “On a Sunday afternoon. Can you believe?”
“Not ordered,” said Mitchell, sounding a little defensive. “I told you. It’s—”
“That’s fine. Then how about just you, Zane?” said Tommy. “Are you up for the challenge? We’ll have some fun. Or are you planning to head back to bed and sleep the day away?”
“He’s not you, Tommy,” quipped Mitchell.
“Sounds cool. Count me in,” called Zane. “Where shall I meet you?”
* * * *
Tommy met them at the appointed location outside an MTR station a few minutes later than arranged. When Zane spotted Tommy, he brightened noticeably, standing up from the road bollard he’d been perched on. Next to him, Mitchell appeared flustered as he stared at the pavement while taking a phone call. Clouds hung low in the sky now, seeming to match Mitchell’s mood.
“Ready to flex those muscles?” Tommy asked Zane as he approached.
“Ready to do something,” said Zane, looking bored.
Mitchell peered apologetically at Zane before breaking off from his call to speak to Tommy.
“Thanks for this, Tommy. I’ll call or text you later when I’m done. I owe you big-time.”
“Yes, you do. And I’m keeping tabs,” said Tommy, which made Mitchell smirk and Zane chuckle. “Come on, Zane. We’ve got some magic to work.”
On the way in the taxi, Tommy read down the messages from all of his team who had agreed to show up that afternoon. They were a range of ages, some a little older than Zane. His principal lighting engineer was bringing a friend, and even though they would be stuck in the lighting control room for each performance, they had agreed to help with the staging during the afternoon.
Their taxi climbed the steep Peak Road until they rounded a bend and entered a lane leading to the school, their rehearsal location. Built in the late fifties, the Sino-Anglo International School where Tommy worked sat high up on the north of the island overlooking the Kowloon peninsula. Over the years, they had invested heavily in upgrading classrooms and facilities and providing top-quality school equipment even though the exterior of the building maintained a fifties municipal vibe with its weathered grey concrete broken only by intermittent blocks of light-blue tiling beneath windows or walkways.
Tommy felt particularly proud of their new school gymnasium, where he spent most of his time. Renovated and refitted at the tail end of the coronavirus break, they now had the addition of fully computerised overhead lighting and four mobile banks of auditorium seating that could be moved and positioned easily to suit various indoor activities. Today they had been set up with three banks around the staging area, like an arena theatre, even though the actual venue for the play would be a small theatre in town.
Clusters of cast members lounged in them now, chatting or rehearsing their lines. Shelly had acquired several wooden gym benches, foldable tables and plastic chairs to represent parts of the set and props. From a quick conversation Tommy learnt that some of the cast were still reading from scripts and that the blocking—directions for where actors would stand, sit, move and how they would enter and exit—had begun only three or four rehearsals ago. Shelly kicked the proceedings off with a quick explanation.
“As most of you know, the set will be a fairly simple and static design. The Kit Kat Klub in Berlin is the main setting, but we’ll use stage right and left to represent other locations. The musical numbers are performed in the club downstage. I think you know most of this from your read-throughs, so I’ll ask Tommy Chow, the stage manager, to come up and explain some important staging points.”
At Shelly’s prompting, Tommy gave a speech introducing his team of stagehands and emphasised his list of essentials, such as actors listening carefully for their cues and picking up and returning props to the correct tables. He explained the goal of the afternoon’s rehearsal to perfect blocking. His crew had marked out the stage boundaries with masking tape to ensure the actors stayed within the confines of the stage. Always a great idea when you were not rehearsing in the actual venue. Once they had arranged the make-do furniture, some actors appeared unhappy, grumbling about the reduced space.
Without prompting, Zane stepped forward and checked the cast members' understanding of stage directions. He explained how he had been initially confused when working on his first play because he had always assumed the left of the stage meant from the audience’s viewpoint. Even though Shelly or the director would have done the same during early rehearsals, Tommy was impressed. Today, those directions needed reemphasising. Zane came across as genuinely friendly and humorous, never talking down to anyone, physically pacing out each of the nine positions from upstage right to downstage left. Shelly looked over at Tommy and gave him a thumbs-up at one point. He could also see that some of the younger players really appreciated the reminder, especially when he went on to explain the importance of being in the right place at the right time for several reasons, including lighting prompts, other actor’s’ positioning and, most important of all, so that the audience could see and hear everything. Zane played a quick game to see who could name the spot where he was standing then asked them where he should move to if given a specific stage direction.
The afternoon flew by. Adding movement to the scenes always provided another element to rehearsals, often a little chaotic, but with practice everyone eventually understood their places. After that, they could begin to weave dialogue and action together and the production would elevate to a new dimension.
Three hours in, they called a break. Tommy and Shelly found Zane sitting with three stage-crew members around his age. Shelly’s team always laid on hot and cold drinks and simple snacks for everyone, and Zane’s group appeared to have been handing around a pork bun, a local speciality with sweetened dough and a char siu pork filling.
“I’m surprised,” said Tommy as they stood over the group. “Mitchell told me you’re not a fan of local food.”
Zane turned his head away and muttered something under his breath before excusing himself from the group and coming over to talk privately to Tommy and Shelly.
“Do you know Uncle Mitchell’s friends, Harold and William?”
Tommy and Shelly shared a look.
“We both do,” said Shelly. “More by reputation.”
Zane told them about his first day in Hong Kong and being whisked off to lunch at a fancy local restaurant with Mitchell’s cronies. All Mitchell had told Tommy was that Zane disliked local food. Zane’s version of events told a different story.
“And my uncle just sat there and let them throw shade at me. My own uncle.”
“Throw shade?” asked Shelly.
“Embarrass. Made me feel like some dumb hick from the sticks.”
“Harold and his entourage can come across as judgemental, maybe even a little elitist,” said Tommy. “Devon calls them Hong Kong royalty, queens who think the rest of us should curtsey to them.”
At least that managed to wrangle a chuckle out of Zane. “You crack me up.”
“You know I have a friend called Kate who works with your uncle?” said Shelly.
“I didn’t know you were friends, but I think I met her this morning.”
“I’m not sure if it changes your opinion,” continued Shelly, “but Kate told me Harold was there for Mitchell when he needed a friend. As much as people tend to view us expats as transients—here temporarily and passing through—the reality is that life can often be lonely, especially for those who are single, maybe something Harold recognised in Mitchell, and why he brought him into his group of friends. That might be something you want to bear in mind.”
“Harold’s not my friend.”
“No, he’s not,” said Tommy. “Nor is he mine. But he is your uncle’s. And he still will be after you’ve returned to England. And I think you should respect that. Look, your uncle’s agreed to put you up, so maybe bite the bullet when you’re invited out with them. Do it out of respect for him.”
Although Zane’s attention appeared to drift off, Tommy noticed his head bobbing slowly as he listened. Shelly winked at Tommy and used the opportunity to slip away and mingle with the troops.
“Actually,” said Zane, “Harold did order some half-decent chow in the end. If only I hadn’t had to listen to their bullshit.”
“Mind if I give you a free piece of advice?” said Tommy, feeling himself slipping into teacher mode.
“Go on.”
“You’re going to meet people like Harold and his friends at university, older and younger, people with their own sense of self-worth and unshakeable opinions on any number of subjects. Some of those are likely to contradict yours. Listen to what they have to say, but don’t let them get to you. Learn to stay calm, rise above any comments. Be the better person. I often find a simple smile, a nod and silence is better than a full-blown argument, one that, frankly, nobody ever wins. Smiling and nodding doesn’t mean you’re agreeing. It simply means that you’ve heard them.”
“Not always easy to do,” said Zane.
“No, it’s not. And it seems to me these days that a lot of people ask for your opinion about something because they want to hear their own reflected back. I find it best, especially if they bluntly disagree with what I’ve said, to maintain my composure and ask for theirs. Hear them out. Some people may have facts we didn’t know or make a point we hadn’t considered. But like I said, it’s fine to agree to disagree because, believe me, you are going to hear a whole heap of factually inaccurate bullshit from some corners. For me, once I’ve parted ways, and if the bothersome bee of annoyance is still buzzing around in my chest, I go to the local gym, find the nearest hanging punch bag and spend an hour knocking all kinds of shit out of the damn thing. It’s my go-to stress reliever, as well as a great way to stay in shape.”
“I prefer to jog,” said Zane. “Five miles. Totally clears my head.”
“Perfect. If that works for you.”
“Listen,” said Zane, peering over at Shelly and his group. “I wanted to say thanks ’cause I’m really enjoying this afternoon. Think I passed the vibe check with the crew. They tell me they’re rehearsing Thursday and Sunday each week until the performances. They also told me about this cool virtual reality venue they’re hitting later this week and the fancy dress junk boat trip in a week’s time for the cast and crew to get to know each other better. I’m going to join them but can you do me a favour and mention the idea to Mitchell—”
“Mitchell already thinks you being involved in this is a good thing. He’ll be fine—”
“He might get funny about the boat trip because he knows I can’t swim. But he’ll definitely agree if it comes from you. He’s into you, man—”
“He’s—what?”
“Don’t worry,” said Zane, grinning. “He’s too chicken to say anything, but I can tell by how his mood improves when you show up.”
“We’re just friends—”
“Chill, Tommy. He knows he’s not your type. Thinks he’s not good enough for you, even if he was interested. Mum says he steers clear of relationships, anyway. Says he once had his heart broken beyond repair.”
“What happened?”
“If he hasn’t told you, then I’m not sure I should say anything.”
“Whatever you think is right. But you do know I’m not going to repeat anything, Zane.”
Zane looked away to think before nodding.
“Look, it was long ago, and I don’t know all the deets. I was barely three when it happened. But he had this friend—more than a friend, if you know what I mean—called Joel. My mum and dad really liked him. Joel and Mitchell had all these plans and things. I think it was at the end of their college year. They’d done their finals and were out celebrating. Mitchell came home early, but Joel stayed out drinking with friends, said he’d get a cab home later. Then Mitchell was woken the next morning at their student digs by Joel’s parents, calling to say the cab Joel had been in had collided with an articulated lorry. The lorry driver had been asleep at the wheel. They rushed Joel to hospital, but he didn’t survive. Mum reckons Uncle Mitchell was never the same, and thinks that’s why he took the job in Hong Kong.”
Tommy stared at the young cast and crew, their lives barely beginning. They would eventually have stories to tell, but some would be harder than others. Had Mitchell really made peace with himself? How did you ever get over something like that?
“Poor Mitchell.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Some things stay with us for life.”
“That’s what Mum said. She thinks he never really gave himself time to deal with his grief. Thought he could run away to Hong Kong and that would be that. Says he’s stuck feeling guilty that he didn’t insist on Joel coming home with him that night. I used to think he just didn’t like us. He rarely visited and when he did, he spent most of the time ignoring us and talking to our parents. “
“Remember he’s also not used to having kids around. Not at work or at play. Whereas I have to put up with you little shits all day long.”
Zane laughed. “He seems to put up with you okay.”
“Careful, Zane. Or I won’t speak to your uncle for you.”
“Will you do it, then?”
“There’s actually no need, but I will.”
“Cool,” said Zane before heading back to his group.
Tommy pulled out his phone, and was ready to send Mitchell a note when he saw a message from a newly set up group called Daley & Sammi Club. When he checked the group members, they included the two bridesmaids, Daley’s brothers Liam and Cho, Best Man Alec— gulp —and Daley’s Aunt Florence, who was an event coordinator in her day job and had been working as the wedding organiser. She was the one who had set up the group. As he looked on, a string of messages came through from her.
Florence: Welcome to the group, everyone .
Florence: Big news .
Florence: Daley’s father agreed with the editor-in-chief of StarAsia Monthly
Florence: They’re doing a photoshoot of the wedding day for their August edition .
Florence: Apparently, they’re good friends .
Florence: How amazing is that ?
Cho: Fantastic. Defo wearing our velvet tuxes
Tommy stared at the screen for a full minute. StarAsia was the magazine that had published the photograph of the mysterious woman holding Daley’s hand.
Florence: DO NOT say anything to the bride and groom. It’s going to be a huge surprise .
Of that, Tommy was absolutely certain.
He really needed to talk to Daley.