Epilogue
Six Months Later
Max
‘Max!’ says Baroness Sharon. ‘Have we had any response from the Embassy?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Get them on the phone.’
‘Shouldn’t we wait for a written response?’
‘Absolutely not. Don’t give them a chance for any more bullshit.’
As Sharon strides off, I get my assistant to set up the call. It’s been six months, and I’m still not used to having my own assistant, much less to working for Baroness Sharon.
A few days after securing Hunter’s release, Sharon asked if I wanted to be her new Chief of Staff. She admitted that she’d been tired of her current guy for a while now, and after learning I wasn’t heading to Athens, she wanted to bag me before anyone else did.
There really hasn’t been a dull moment, from sprinting through Rio airport to avoid Baroness Sharon delivering the wrong speech at the G20 summit, to the time she had an emergency meeting and I had to take over her DJ set at Ministry of Sound and got the whole crowd jumping to my favourite Backstreet Boys tropical house remix.
It’s been the best of both worlds – the excitement of international travel while being based in London.
It hasn’t all been easy. This job is a tightrope, and when it comes to dealing with the press, the skills I learned as a diplomat have come in handy more than once.
But behind the scenes, I try to be as honest as possible.
I don’t always succeed, but that’s why this is the perfect role for me.
Every day, I have to push myself, and I like that challenge.
At the same time, I don’t let it consume me.
I’ve surprised myself by becoming one of those people who is happy to log off at 5 p.m. I love my job, but in many ways, after work is when the fun begins. Tonight more than ever.
I get to the theater ridiculously early. I feel a rush of pride as I see the posters outside advertising tonight’s performance: Hunter Moretti in Hamlet: The Musical.
Hunter couldn’t believe it when he found out. Nor could any of us. Apparently, the Globe was eager to cast him but were worried about putting on a show with an unknown star in the current climate. Turning it into a musical gave it broader appeal as well as showcasing all of Hunter’s talents.
Hunter took about two seconds to say yes.
There was a part of him that was disappointed not to get to act in a traditional Shakespeare production, and I hope he can one day.
But given that he has a tendency to take his work a bit too seriously, I think it’s good for him that his first big role has a few song and dance numbers.
I meet my dad and Doily in the theater foyer. Knowing my dad, he made them get here hours ago. Doily throws her arms around me for a prolonged embrace. Once I extract myself, my dad and I share a hug. I’ve noticed he goes in for them more since he started doing so much travelling.
‘How was Manila?’ I ask them.
‘It was lovely,’ says Doily. ‘Eventually.’
She casts a pointed look at my dad.
‘It started out well,’ my dad says. ‘The rest was all right.’
‘Can you believe what I have to deal with?’ asks Doily. ‘People said to me, “Oh Manila is beautiful once you make it out of that horrible airport.”’
‘Which is silly of them,’ says my dad. ‘The airport’s the best part.’
Ever since Doily retired, she and my dad have been fulfilling his long-held desire to travel the world.
My dad has been planning this voyage methodically for years.
He wants to visit all the countries he controlled flights to and from over his career.
But he specifically wants to visit their airports.
He genuinely doesn’t feel the need to leave the arrivals hall, given that he finds airports infinitely more fascinating and less risky than the typical tourist attractions.
But since Doily is not of that opinion, they usually spend a day or two trapped in an airport hotel before Doily convinces my dad to go and see, say, the Sagrada Familia or the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
They do nothing but complain about the other’s approach, but can’t hide the fact that they are having the time of their lives.
We make our way to the VIP bar, where Hunter’s guests have been invited to gather for a pre-show drink. All the members of Doily’s calligraphy group have been invited, naturally. I spot Zosia and Thiago talking to Baroness Sharon, and I can only imagine the kind of love-off they’re having.
‘Look!’ says Doily. ‘There’s Hunter’s agent.’
Once Doily announced her retirement and Hunter’s casting in Hamlet: The Musical was made public, he was swamped with offers for representation.
But he never seriously considered anyone other than the brilliant Flora Forbes.
It’s the perfect career change for her. She gets to flex her lawyer muscles in a creative arena while being her own woman, although she’s recently started dating a very hot doctor.
Flora crosses over to us and greets us excitedly.
‘The buzz is off the charts, Max. There are some producers from A24 in the house tonight. They want to make a movie version.’
‘Hamlet: The Musical: The Film?’
Flora smiles proudly. ‘See you at the Oscars.’
We head into the auditorium and take our seats. As the lights dim, I’m nervous on Hunter’s behalf. But from the moment he steps onto the stage, he’s in full command. This is the role he was born to play, even if he never imagined ‘To be or not to be’ as an eighties power ballad.
I spend the entire duration of the play grinning from ear to ear. That’s my man up there. The only moments when my smile dips are when I’m hit with that familiar sadness that my mum never got to meet Hunter. She’d be loving this.
I reread her letter recently, and it struck me that I’ve spent the past five years focusing on completely the wrong parts.
Other people are the only thing that can bring you true happiness.
I don’t know why it didn’t hit me sooner. Maybe because it took Hunter to make me realise.
I think back to the first time I saw him perform at the Menier Chocolate Factory, when I was moved to go up on stage and propose.
Maybe I knew then, deep down. Maybe something was pulling me towards him beyond the dilemma I was facing. I saw that even though he was playing a role, he stood there and told me precisely who he was, just like he’s doing now.
It sometimes amazes me that he and I weren’t caught sooner, but then I remember that everyone is faking it. Couples especially. Look at Quentin and Flora. Look at me with every guy I dated until now.
Ironically, Hunter was the one person I couldn’t fake it with. When the stakes of being exposed were so high, we were forced to build real respect. Real friendship. Real support.
In the process, we fell in love. The kind of love that can’t be faked.
And even though our paths may lead us in separate directions from time to time, I don’t think either of us will wander off for too long.
Not when we know what’s waiting for us back home.