Chapter 24
Lara made her way down into the foyer and then back up a smaller staircase, topping up drinks as she went.
When her bottles were empty, she looked around for signs back to the Dress Circle Bar.
In an attempt to get her bearings she moved into one of the empty boxes that were to the right of her and found herself looking down into the body of the theatre.
For a moment she was distracted. She thought it was a beautiful setting.
The interior of the theatre had been renovated a few years earlier and restored to its original glory.
Local craftsmen had repaired the art deco plasterwork and new electric wall lights had been fitted in the style of retro lamps.
These gave a glow to the plush royal-blue seats that were laid out in rows beneath her.
On the stage, in the light of a giant chandelier, guests were mingling with actors trying on cloaks and masks in imitation of the Phantom of the Opera.
There was much laughter and some very bad singing.
A few of the seats in the stalls were occupied by guests who were either watching this spectacle or chatting among themselves.
Further back, sitting slightly apart, she spotted Richard Porter.
The crest of Richard’s hair was unmistakable next to the gleam of a head of unfeasibly brown locks.
The Honourable Richard was deep in conversation with Jason Honeybourne.
Lara watched as a pristine parlour maid moved along the row behind the two men.
Soon Abby was leaning forward in the seat directly behind them, her face all but sandwiched between theirs.
Lara wondered what these two were talking about.
There was something distinctly furtive about their movements.
Lara smiled as she thought of their reaction if they had known that someone – even a ghost – was listening in.
Lara’s eyes drifted along the line of seats to the back of the theatre.
Most of these seats were empty. She was just thinking of going back to the kitchen to replenish her supply of wine when she found she was staring directly down on the top of two people’s heads.
The couple was standing to the side of a line of seats, hidden from the rest of the audience by a pillar.
Lara watched with dismay as she saw an all too familiar hand caress the back of his companion’s head.
As the man’s fingers became tangled in the woman’s hair, she imagined she felt a gentle stroking against the nape of her own neck.
There was no mistaking Julian Armstrong or disguising his intention as he pulled the woman closer to him.
His companion’s body seemed to meld with his and together they moved further back towards the passageway that led to the exit.
Lara felt sick with shock and an even more sickening anger and embarrassment at her own weakness.
She had thought she was over him, but as she craned her head over the edge of the box to watch them she felt a fierce stab of jealousy.
It was then that the woman looked up, as if conscious of Lara’s gaze.
Lara found herself staring directly into the eyes of Penny Porter.
Instinctively, Lara pulled back out of sight, concealing herself in the curtain that was framing the box.
Her heart was hammering. She recalled on her visit to the Porters’ house, Penny asking if she was a friend of Julian’s.
She had thought it was a disinterested enquiry, perhaps motivated by local gossip.
Now she wondered if Penny had been trying to find out if they were lovers.
Lara stood stock-still. Another memory had come to her: Joe telling her that Julian had asked him if he was related to Lady Porter.
Had this in reality come from Julian, or had it come from Penny?
Had she at some point told Julian about the new will?
If it had been earlier that summer, and Julian had been involved with Penny, wouldn’t Julian also be interested in stopping the new will if he was serious about her?
She remembered Kate’s comments about Julian.
Would he ever be committed enough to a woman to settle down?
The cynical part of her brain answered for her: only if it was greatly to his advantage.
Penny Porter with her inheritance of ￡30,000 might not tempt him, but how about that plus half of Richard’s legacy?
Divorced from the Honourable Richard, Penny Porter would be a very rich woman.
Lara’s breathing eased, but a clammy sickness remained.
As if drawn by an irresistible force, she leant forward and peeked once more around the curtain.
The space below her was empty. Julian and Penny had gone.
She scanned the stalls looking for them.
The front rows were still partly filled with guests, but there was no sign of the couple, or for that matter, Richard Porter or Julian Honeybourne.
Abby was missing too. Lara thought about going back to see Sarah and Kate, but she didn’t think she could face them. She couldn’t bear their pity.
A slight touch on her back made her think for one foolish second that Abby had found her.
She relaxed and was about to turn when another hand caught at her ankle and the gentle touch on her back turned into a full and forceful shove.
With a cry that she did not know she was capable of making, she felt herself falling over the edge of the balcony.
As she started to drop, Lara felt her arms and legs flailing.
With an agonising crack her elbow caught the edge of the wall, but by some miracle her other hand closed around the balcony rail.
One handed, she was left swinging, her legs and feet scrabbling in thin air as she tried to get her other hand onto the rail.
After her initial cry, the only sound Lara could hear was her breath coming in rasping gasps.
She found she was incapable of crying out for help.
As she hung on, stunned, two simultaneous thoughts crossed her mind: that someone below must run for help and that she hoped no one could see her knickers.
What she did not expect was applause.
By the time she realised the audience thought she was one of the evening’s dramatic vignettes, Lara was sobbing with the pain of holding on.
In reality she had been swinging there for less than twenty seconds, but to Lara it felt like an hour.
Relief came in the form of a pair of bony hands that reached over the balcony and with surprising force hauled her over the rail.
She lay on the floor of the box blinking and half sobbing as she looked up into the concerned and perspiring face of Dr Patil.
‘Good grief, Lara, what were you thinking of?!’ he exclaimed, grabbing a chair and sitting down so he could more easily bend towards her.
‘What happened?’ he demanded, reaching out both hands to help her to her feet.
‘No, no don’t try and stand,’ he instructed, as Lara started to rise.
‘Sit down here,’ he said and guided her into the neighbouring seat.
Lara sat down gratefully and looked over his shoulder to where a crowd was now gathering in the doorway to the box.
It seemed her cry had attracted those nearby.
There were a few people she didn’t know but there was no mistaking the faces of Richard Porter and Jason Honeybourne.
Everyone seemed to start talking at once, asking what had happened or if they could fetch anyone.
Dr Patil dealt with this potential invasion by the simple expedient of shutting the door, saying as he did so, ‘Thank you, I’m a doctor, I think this young woman needs some peace and quiet. ’
As Lara sat silent and shaking, Dr Patil assumed his normal more distant medical manner and examined her arm. ‘There is nothing broken, Miss McGregor, but you’re going to have a splendid bruise.’ He frowned. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’
By now, Lara had recovered enough to say, ‘I was leaning too far over and put my hand out to the wall and realised too late it was a curtain. The rest you saw, or at least heard.’ She paused. ‘Was there anyone here when you came into the box?’ she asked. ‘Or leaving it?’
‘No, the box was empty.’ He frowned down at her. ‘Did you think someone was in here with you?’ His words held an unmistakable inference.
‘No. Not at all. It was just an accident.’ Lara wished her voice sounded more convincing.
Her mind was in complete turmoil and all she wanted was to sit quietly and gather her thoughts.
And she wanted to talk to Abby. It was with an immeasurable sense of relief that she caught the scent of gardenia in the air and found herself staring into the faces of both Dr Patil and Abigail Rossmore.
Abby sat down on the other side of her. She was unusually pale and abnormally quiet.
Dr Patil continued, ‘Do you have someone who can take you home or can I give you a lift?’
‘No!’ Lara exclaimed. She was filled with horror at the thought of being on her own – and she admitted to herself – isolated and vulnerable. ‘I’d rather just sit here for a moment and then get back to work.’
Dr Patil looked concerned. ‘You’ve had a very nasty shock I really think you would be better off at home.’
‘No, I just need to sit still for a moment and get my breath back,’ Lara said, looking at Abby. She desperately wanted to be left alone with her.
Dr Patil reluctantly got to his feet. ‘Well if you’re sure.
I’m due for a late supper with friends and I really should be going.
But if you’re having problems with your arm come and see me in the morning.
’ He paused just before he left the box.
‘And, Lara,’ he added, ‘be careful in future, won’t you. ’
Alone with her Kindred Spirit, Lara let out a deep breath and pulled up the sleeve of her voluminous waitress’s outfit to re-examine her elbow. It really was very sore. She saw that Abby was studying her.