16. Theo
16
Theo
‘ W hat time does this finish?’ I asked Jessica before downing the rest of my red wine and resting the glass on the sticky mahogany table.
We were in the Seaview Arms pub, where we’d come to get a feel for the event ahead of the performance we’d been roped into doing next week.
Right now Jessica and I were being tortured with a performance of ‘I Will Survive’ by one of the local residents. She might, but I wasn’t sure if I would. It sounded like she was being strangled. I wished I’d brought earplugs.
‘Ten.’ Jessica winced. ‘But I don’t know if I can survive another half an hour of this.’
Luckily we were tucked away in one of the sections towards the back of the pub, so no one should be able to hear us.
The interior was like a traditional British pub with deep burgundy patterned carpet, worn-looking dark wooden tables and chairs with some burgundy leather banquette seating along the back wall.
The bar, which was in the centre, had the same dark polished wood with brass beer taps and a fairly large selection of spirits behind it.
The walls were decorated with old framed photographs of fishermen and other people I assumed were important to the town, sea-related memorabilia and old Sunshine Bay postcards.
Bob and Barbara, the landlord and landlady, were friendly. I imagined they were in their late fifties or early sixties. Both had tanned skin. Barbara had her reddish-brown hair styled into a beehive and Bob had a shaved head.
Although the Seaview Arms wouldn’t be my usual choice for a drinking establishment, it had a certain charm.
‘Oh, thank God,’ Jessica exhaled as the performance ended.
We both clapped politely and I braced myself for the next act. So far the performances had included a ‘comedian’ who was about as funny as a dead fish, a ventriloquist whose lips moved throughout the whole performance, and a juggler who kept dropping all the balls.
‘Another drink?’ I got up from my seat.
‘Please. Same again, but make mine a double.’
‘Double G&T coming up.’
‘Enjoying yourself?’ Cindy, the barmaid, flashed a smile.
‘It’s, er, certainly interesting .’
‘Bloody liar!’ she cackled as she poured gin over the ice in Jessica’s glass. ‘It’s terrible! That’s why we’re all hoping that you and your colleague can bring some of your London flair to the show. Any idea what you’ll do?’
‘No.’ I shook my head.
When Edwin had dropped another one of his annoying bombshells yesterday, my stomach had lurched. The idea of performing in any kind of talent show was horrendous on its own. But when you added the fact that he wanted me and Jessica to do something together , it made it even worse.
I was supposed to be limiting the time I spent with her. Not increasing it.
And of course after that he’d conveniently told us that there would be a talent show tonight and invited us along. He hadn’t bothered to turn up, but Jessica and I knew that he’d have spies watching our every move.
‘Maybe you could do a dance routine? Or a duet? That’d go down a treat. You two on stage, staring into each other’s eyes, singing sweet nothings. Awww.’
‘Definitely not!’ I said too quickly. ‘I mean, I’m not much of a dancer or a singer.’
‘That’s a shame.’ She finished pouring my wine and put the glass in front of me. I handed over my credit card. ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll think of something. Good luck!’
‘Thank you.’ I picked up the glasses and headed back to the table.
As I took in the sight of Jessica, I swallowed hard. She was always pretty, but she looked especially lovely today.
Jessica was wearing the same stonewashed jeans that she had on the first day we met and a fitted red top that had a cut-out shape just above her breasts, which I’d been trying (and failing) not to look at all night.
I wasn’t sure what was more painful: listening to that woman’s wailing masquerading as singing earlier or sitting next to Jessica and not being able to touch her.
After putting the drinks down, I slid on the banquette seat, leaving as much distance as possible between us.
Thankfully, not too long afterwards, the show ended and we breathed a sigh of relief. We might not agree on a lot of things, but I knew we were both happy that our eyes and ears wouldn’t be subjected to those terrible performances. At least until the show next week.
‘So, what talents do you have, then?’ Jessica turned to face me, and my breath caught in my throat just like it always seemed to do whenever she looked at me.
‘I’ve been told I’m very good with my hands and my mouth…’ I smirked.
‘Ugh.’ She slapped my arm. ‘Get your mind out of the gutter. I was referring to your talents for this show we have to do. Not your bedroom skills.’
‘ Bedroom? ’ I raised my eyebrow. ‘I was referring to my pottery and debating skills. What did you think I was talking about?’
Jessica’s eyes widened and she shuffled in her seat.
‘Oh… I… I thought…’
‘Yes, please do elaborate on these thoughts of yours. Interesting to know that when thinking about me, your mind went straight to the bedroom. What exactly were you imagining me doing with my hands and mouth?’
‘I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking about you in the bedroom,’ she stuttered, getting more flustered by the second, which was adorable.
‘ Sure, sure ,’ I teased, which only wound her up even more.
The truth was, she was absolutely right. I was hinting at what I’d been told about my bedroom skills. I wanted to see what her reaction was. Because no matter how many times I told myself that we’d never be able to do anything together, it didn’t lessen my desire for her.
‘Forget it!’ Jessica picked up her glass and took two large glugs. ‘Clearly the only thing you excel at is being a grade A arsehole!’
‘Ha-ha. Comedy isn’t your forte.’
‘It wasn’t supposed to be funny. It’s the truth.’
‘Well, I’d much rather be a grade A arsehole than a grade B one, so thanks for the compliment!’
‘Aaargghh!’ she huffed. ‘Why do you have to be so annoying?’
‘What can I say? It’s a gift. Whatever I put my mind to, I just excel.’
This time, Jessica folded her arms and scowled.
‘Right now, the only thing I think we could do on that stage together is pretend that we can get along for more than five minutes without being at each other’s throats. That’d be an Oscar-worthy performance on its own.’
‘That’s not strictly true. We lasted a whole day at Dreamland…’ My voice trailed off as I thought about our hands touching for the millionth time.
Jessica froze, and I wondered if she was thinking about it too.
‘That was different. That was… anyway, there must be something else you’re good at apart from winding me up.’
‘As well as those talents, I’m decent at juggling. Well, better than that guy earlier.’
‘That’s not difficult. I can’t juggle, though, so that won’t work.’
‘What are you good at, then? ’
‘Good question.’ Her gaze dropped to the sticky carpet.
‘Poetry?’
‘Nope.’
There was a long pause. Jessica played with the stem of her glass and seemed to be lost in thought.
‘I can play the piano,’ I blurted out to break the silence.
‘Of course you can.’ She rolled her eyes.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing.’
‘If you’ve got something to say, say it.’ My jaw tensed.
‘It’s just it’s so typical. Of course Daddy would arrange for you to play piano. I bet you had one that cost more than people like me earn in a year. You’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted all laid out nicely for you on a silver platter. You’ve probably never had to work hard for anything in your life. Securing Seaview High is just one big game for you.’
‘That’s not true,’ I snapped. ‘You have no idea the pressure I’m under.’
‘ Awww. Poor little rich kid . What’s the matter? Finding it hard to choose between the caviar or foie gras for your next dinner party? Diddums .’
‘You really have no idea.’ I shook my head.
‘Enlighten me. Tell me about your nepo baby problems.’ She did a fake lip quiver.
As Jessica pretended to wipe away crocodile tears, I ground my jaw.
I wasn’t denying that I’d lived a privileged life. Yes, I came from money. I grew up in a nice house, with a nanny and a cook and a driver. And I went to the most prestigious schools in the country .
But what wasn’t true was what Jessica had said about me having everything I ever wanted.
What I wanted was not to be sent away to boarding school.
What I wanted was not to have lost my mother when I was just nine years old.
What I wanted was to not have my whole life mapped out without having any say in whether or not I wanted to take over the family business.
And to have a say in who I wanted to marry.
So, no, Jessica couldn’t be more wrong if she tried.
The reality of the state of my life hit me like a truck.
‘I’m leaving.’ I downed the rest of my wine and got up. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening.’