Thirty-Seven Lucie
Thirty-Seven
LUCIE
B etty is busy today. It helps that a certain famous Romeo is helping serve, much to the delight of the crowd and the relief of Cass. We’ve already had to get Finn to bring more gelato over, selling out two flavours before midday. Today’s takings will go a long way to ensuring we can bring Betty out next year.
I love having him here. While today is the busiest Sunday I’ve worked with Betty, I feel calm and happy. I have Theo. We have this. And for once I’m not dreading the off-season. I also have Greg Dabrowski’s offer of Miranda in The Tempest , which I haven’t replied to yet, even though it’s been almost a week since he surprised me with it.
‘I come to all your performances,’ a lady says, as I scoop her order. ‘You two are just magical together. Can I get a photo?’ When Theo poses obligingly, she stares pointedly at me. ‘With both of you?’
It’s a strange new world and one I’m not entirely comfortable with, but Theo’s hand at my back as we stand on either side of the lady makes everything feel all right. Cass winks at me as she takes the photo, handing the phone back to the woman who rushes back to her friends with ice cream, squeals and a prized photo of Theo and I.
‘Can we have you both on the bike for the rest of the season, please?’
‘Fine by me,’ Theo grins, ‘keep me in ice cream and I’m yours.’
Cass high-fives him. ‘Done.’
‘Cheap date,’ I say, loving how close Cass and Theo are already. I feel like the threads of my life are coming together, weaving into something unexpected, lasting.
‘You won’t hear me complaining.’ She offers us her hands. ‘Seriously, thank you so much for this. I can’t tell you what a difference it’s made.’
‘Happy to help,’ Theo says. ‘Free gelato and the woman of my dreams? This is the perfect gig.’
‘Ah, but will you remember us when you’re taking the world by storm in Hamlet ?’
‘Always. And if it all goes pear-shaped, I’ll just work for you.’
‘I can see the headlines now: It’s a Scoop! Theo Larkin’s tasty fallback career . I like it!’
Another customer asks for a selfie – with Theo alone this time – so he happily obliges. As we scoop gelato, Cass nudges my elbow.
‘So, have you considered Greg’s offer yet?’
‘I’m thinking about it.’ Truth is I’ve done little else since his shock appearance at our lunchtime performance. But however genuine I think his offer is, the memory of his words to me that night in Gonzalo’s refuses to leave. He assures me he’s sworn off drinking until the New Year, but what happens if the stress of the production leads him to another binge? I don’t want to be his punching bag of choice because I’m an easy target. And then there’s the thorny issue of Duncan. He’s been overruled by Greg’s offer and apology, but what happens when Greg isn’t there? The offer just seems too choked by thorny questions for me to be able to enjoy it.
‘When do you have to let him know?’
‘By tomorrow.’
Cass stops mid-scoop and stares at me. ‘What’s to think about? Say yes!’
‘I just want to make sure it’s the right decision.’
‘Oh yeah, because a lead role in a major production at the most wonderful theatre on earth is such a tough job to accept.’ My friend pulls a face. ‘Seriously, Lu, you deserve this. Nobody deserves this more than you. Chances like it don’t come along often – you know that more than most.’
‘I just want to be certain,’ I return, more defensively than I wanted it to sound. ‘All these good things happening – I don’t want to jinx them.’
‘And why can’t Greg’s offer be part of the good stuff?’
‘That’s what I keep telling her and she won’t listen,’ Theo butts in, his hand deliciously warm where it circles my waist.
I’m not going to win this, am I?
‘Okay, I’ll call him this evening and accept.’
Maybe they’re right. Maybe this is just my fear speaking. I’m just not used to things going my way – and admitting that to myself is the saddest thing. Hope has always been what’s fuelled me, so why am I letting my own insecurities take it away from me? Getting to play Miranda at The Swan is everything I could have dreamed of. Even if my Ferdinand isn’t Theo every night. I know that role inside out. I’m more than capable of pulling it off.
Giddy with the thrill of it, I ignore the still lingering doubts and enjoy the moment.
The queue stretches on late into the afternoon, as many photos requested of Theo and me as there are of Theo alone. More flavours sell out and by the time Cass decides we’re done for the day we’re exhausted but happy.
We return Betty to her storeroom for a well-earned rest and gather in the courtyard at the back of Cheerily’s. We all look as knackered as each other, but it’s a good tired, the kind that comes from a brilliant day. Finn comes out to join us, deliciously chilled beers in hand, his arm draped around a beaming Cass as we toast the extraordinary day of trading.
‘You’re all incredible,’ he says, planting a kiss on Cass’s head. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’
‘Any time, man,’ Theo says, clinking bottles with him.
‘What are you doing later? We could go and grab a bite to eat?’
I look up at Theo. ‘I’m up for it if you are?’
‘Sure, that’d be great. Can we make it eight-ish? My agent is in town and I promised I’d meet him for a drink.’
Finn nods. ‘Fine by me. We have to finish up here anyway. How about Verona ? They have a cool tapas menu I’ve been dying to try.’
‘Perfect.’ Theo checks his watch. ‘I should get going. Meet you there, Lu?’
‘Works for me.’ I giggle as he pulls me in for a lingering kiss, to the loud protestations of Cass and Finn.
‘He’s a keeper,’ Finn says, as Theo races off.
‘He’s a tart.’ I grin back, my heart so full it could lift me straight off the courtyard’s cobbles.
Half an hour later, I’m walking home, enjoying the late summer laziness that’s settled across the town. This is the last weekend before work and school resume their usual schedule and it seems everyone is out making the most of it. It’s the kind of delicious, almost-September evening, soothingly warm with the suggestion of a breeze, perfect for whiling away the hours in the company of friends. I’m tired from the day’s exertions but buzzing at the thought of winding down with Theo, Cass and Finn.
Voicing my decision to take the Tempest job has firmed it in my mind. When I get home, I’ll call Greg to accept, to stop any last-minute doubts holding sway. I know myself too well to delay it much longer.
I take the riverside path, enjoying the beauty of the Avon in the warm golden glow. I like this feeling – being on the edge of something exciting. It’s time I owned my success and started to believe in it. I’ve spent too many years fearing good things happening, waiting for them to go wrong the moment something is going my way. I have Theo. I have Greg’s offer. And The Garden Players have our moment to reach a bigger audience. If this summer has taught me anything, it’s to celebrate the good stuff.
‘Hey, stranger.’
I skid to a halt when I see the person on the riverside bench just ahead of me.
‘Can’t stop, sorry. I have to get home.’
Duncan rises from the bench. ‘Please – I was hoping we could chat.’
His hands seem restless, uncertain whether they should be in his pockets or by his sides. Is he nervous?
‘I really have to get home.’
‘Five minutes? Please? I owe you an apology and I need to say this before we move on to the production.’
‘An apology?’ Has Greg put him up to this?
‘Would you sit with me? Five minutes max, I promise.’
I shouldn’t. I should keep walking, put as much distance between him and me as I can. But he isn’t like he’s always been; the bravado has gone, his usual cocky smile nowhere to be seen. When he looks at me there’s no sneer or quick judgment. That’s not like him at all.
So I sit on the bench.
‘Go on.’
He takes a breath, running his hands down his jeans as if his palms are excessively sweating. I’ve only ever seen him this out of sorts once before, when a previous visiting director threatened to fire him. ‘I haven’t been fair to you, Luce. I’ve stood in your way too often, slammed doors I could’ve opened. I was angry with you for splitting up with me all those years ago. I’m not proud of it but I couldn’t see past the betrayal.’
What the hell is that supposed to mean? ‘You were seeing someone else.’
Apologetic hands are raised. ‘I know that. There’s no excuse, I’m sorry.’
‘You did that and then you were angry that I made the break? How was that ever my fault?’
‘It wasn’t. But I couldn’t see it back then. Nobody had ever called time on me before you did. I didn’t handle it well.’
‘So why keep it going for years? And don’t say you were pining for me, Duncan, because nobody’s going to buy that.’
‘Revenge. Power. Who knows? The point is, I was an idiot. I could’ve helped your career but I chose not to.’
Anger is steadily building in my gut. I know all of this already, so why is he suddenly penitent about it? All of the years I struggled because he denied me jobs I was more than capable of doing. And for what? For a cheap power trip?
‘You scuppered my chances of work, year after year.’
He hangs his head. ‘I really am sorry.’
‘Why now? What sudden revelation led you here?’
‘I saw what you did at the Birthplace. How you completely made those roles shine. I see hundreds of actors every year for auditions and not one of them have had an ounce of your insight and skill. Audiences adore you. Theo is clearly besotted. I mean you were in every major newspaper and press outlet – you can’t buy publicity like that.’
‘I’ve always had that potential,’ I say, not ready to let him off the hook. He needs to understand the injustice he’s served me for years. ‘I just needed opportunities to show what I could do.’
‘And you’ll have the opportunity in Tempest . Greg’s dead set on having you. Have you accepted his offer yet?’
Has he been sent to encourage my decision? Is his apology more for fear of Greg than a need to clear the air with me? ‘I’m going to.’
‘Good. He has big plans for you. And Theo. The two of you have been quite the gift to him this summer. Bookings are already selling out for Hamlet and when he breaks the news about you in Tempest it’ll do the same.’ He looks at me. ‘I wish you the best, Lucie. Sincerely.’
‘Thank you. How did you know I would be here?’ The thought arrives and I have to voice it, not quite trusting the serendipity of this meeting.
He pales a little. ‘I saw you leaving Cheerily’s. I remember walking this route with you when we were … you know. So I took a shortcut through the churchyard.’
‘You were stalking me?’ I’m amused more than offended. For someone so usually confident to stride up to me on a whim, the thought of Duncan Harrow tiptoeing around Stratford-upon-Avon after me is hilarious.
‘Tragic, I know. What have I become?’
For the first time since I sat here, I laugh. It’s a victory I never thought I’d win. Duncan laughs too – and for a second I have a glimpse of the man he was in the beginning, when being in his company was fun. I’ve forgotten that, buried as it became beneath layers of hurt and lies. I wish I’d never gone out with him, but I have to accept that he had good points for a while.
‘I really am sorry,’ he says, after we’ve watched the river for a while.
‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’
‘And I’m looking forward to you wiping the floor with my previous opinions when you join the company next month.’
I smile. ‘Well, prepare to be amazed, Mr Harrow.’ Sensing the conversation nearing a natural end, I stand. ‘I should get going.’
‘Of course.’ He jumps to his feet beside me. ‘There’s just one thing, now we’re being honest.’
‘What’s that?’
He takes his phone from his pocket. ‘I wanted to be completely open with you about the productions – and Greg. It’s important you know what you’re getting into. To prepare. We hit the ground running in rehearsals on the eighth of September and I want you to have the same advantage as the rest of the cast.’
‘Okay.’
‘As assistant director, it’s my job to be Greg whenever he’s needed elsewhere. Running two concurrent productions is a huge undertaking and he simply can’t be in two places at once. So I have charge of his phone sometimes – he keeps production notes on it that can be shared and as he often forgets to send them to me, when he’s in meetings he often just gives me the phone. I had it yesterday while he was in a meeting with the set designers – and I found this.’
He hands me his phone. On it are a string of text messages, forwarded to him.
‘The thing is, I want you to see this to understand why we asked Theo to do what he did. It worked – I mean ticket sales are a dream and the buzz around you two is phenomenal. But I think now you’ll be joining us you need to be fully aware. I just hope this makes you realise how highly Theo thinks of you – and why your pairing on the stage is going to be so remarkable.’
I start to scroll – and my heart crashes to my feet.
Big Greg D
Romeo and Juliet, eh?
Going for the big guns.
I like it ?
Theo Larkin
Looking forward to
the challenge.
Big Greg D
I bet you are.
Get the crowd panting.
Slip in a tongue or two.
Theo Larkin
Good advice, cheers.
Chat next week ?
I scroll further, more conversations appearing.
Big Greg D
Saw those kisses online.
Bloody brilliant!
Keep that chemistry coming,
She’s clearly besotted with you.
Theo Larkin
We make a great team.
Audiences love it.
Big Greg D
Whatever you’re doing, keep at it.
Maybe you should shag her for real.
Imagine the headlines!
Theo Larkin
Wait till they see what
we have planned.
Ticket sales guaranteed ?
And the worst one, the day after our first night together.
Big Greg D
You did the deed, didn’t you?
Good boy, Theo ? $? $
It doesn’t matter that Theo’s reply doesn’t follow. I know enough. My entire body chills to ice. I can barely feel the phone in my hands. Duncan is watching me, his expression unreadable.
‘Did I do the wrong thing showing you? Oh Lucie, don’t be upset! I just felt it was important you knew. Smoke and mirrors, this business, always. Enjoy it, I say. Give as good as you get. Might as well get a good bit of sex out of the man while he’s playing along. I mean, I’m straight as they come but even I wouldn’t kick Theo Larkin out of bed.’
‘They agreed on this?’
‘I shouldn’t have said …’ Duncan rubs the back of his neck. I don’t care if he’s regretting this now: it’s too late.
‘Did Theo and Greg agree on this?’ I insist, squaring up to him.
‘Yes. Early on. I wasn’t there when they did – we’d had a meeting and I had to run off. But it’s clear from those messages there was some kind of understanding in place. And Greg’s been crowing about the whole blossoming relationship thing since the rumours began. He reckons it’s down to his advice.’
Is it true? Did Theo trick me? Was his speech in Gonzalo’s – and everything that happened afterwards – just part of an act? I don’t want to believe it. My heart can’t quite make it fit with how being with him has made me feel.
But the evidence is there, glaring at me.
‘I don’t understand why.’ I can’t stop my hurt and anger from leaking into my voice.
‘Greg wanted Theo to create a buzz with your garden performances and get the public onside, so that when we announced his casting in Hamlet it would hit at peak interest.’
‘And I was part of this deal?’
‘I know how it looks. And I guess it’s a kick you didn’t see coming. But it’s the business, Luce. Honestly, see this as an opportunity to use Greg back to get what you want out of your career. You’ve always waited for other people to open doors. It’s time you kicked some down yourself.’
I don’t want to be receiving career advice from a man who, only a few weeks ago, was happy to be slamming doors in my face. I don’t want to be here. The problem is, I don’t know where I want to be.
‘I should go.’
‘Okay. I hope I’ve done the right thing, Luce. And hey, looking forward to working with you next month. I always knew you’d make it in the end.’
I’m a mess as I power away from him. I don’t know what’s worse: finding out Theo’s been playing me or hearing it from the worst person. How can I trust anything connected to the Tempest show now? Does the rest of the cast know already? Are they all laughing at the gullible girl from The Garden Players? And if Greg is congratulating himself on making Theo seduce me, how can I ever work with him?
I can’t. That’s the answer.
I can’t work with Greg, knowing what I know. And there’s no way I’m continuing the charade with Theo for the benefit of Greg’s dual productions.
Theo lied to me.
I angrily dismiss my falling tears with the heel of my hand as I walk. All those promises he made, all the fine words, all designed to sell tickets for Greg Dabrowski’s benefit.
And every kiss? Every touch? Were those choreographed, too?
I can’t believe I trusted him, or fell for his great protestations of love.
Theo Larkin doesn’t love me. But I love him. And that makes what I have to do a million times worse.
Taking my phone from my bag, I dial a number from a card I’ve kept with me. When the call connects, I grab the door of the biggest opportunity of my career with both hands and slam it shut.
It’s over.
And tonight, I’ll tell him.