CHAPTER EIGHT
Huntly stood beside the classic baby grand piano, taking a phone call, deep in conversation, as Mari got ready to leave the theatre for the night. He was reflected in the high gloss black finish of the beautiful piano.
It was early evening, or so she gauged, and a lot of the activity was starting to wane, so she decided to head home. Glancing over at Huntly, she picked up her bags.
Unaware she was leaving, he didn’t see her walk away.
Jon had a prior dinner engagement and had just left, and Andy had gone home to relax and learn his dialogue. Niall was still buzzing around the theatre and was currently backstage.
As Mari stepped outside the theatre into the sepia glow of the evening, she breathed deeply and looked up at the sky. An amber glow of the approaching golden hour arched over the cobbled street, making everything look like it was a throwback to a vintage era.
The classic architecture, the cobbles, and the eclectic mix of eateries had a traditional quality, and she felt herself unwind as she walked home to her flat.
The chatter and sounds floating out from the nightlife, drifted to a soft buzz in the background as she went over the highlights of her day. Particularly those moments with Huntly, the man she now had a dinner date with, though not a date in the romantic sense, which eased the pressure of putting her heart in jeopardy.
Approaching the craft shop, she saw that it was closed, but smiled to herself when she saw all the little black cats, knitted, crocheted or sewn, sitting in the window display.
Heading through the close, she went up to her flat and closed the door on a memorable day.
The sepia glow outside her windows cast autumn shadows through the flat, and she turned a couple of lamps on and flicked the lights on in the kitchen.
She unpacked her knitting bag and set up her laptop on her desk while deciding what to have for dinner.
Opting for a bowl of hearty lentil soup, she heated that up and served it with salad and bread.
Sitting in the kitchen, she ate her dinner, then washed the dishes and went through to the living room sipping a mug of tea.
The first thing she wanted to do was work on the black cat pattern. Searching through her stash of yarn, she picked out a ball of black double knit, and the other colours she needed. Then she used the same size of knitting needles to cast on the required stitches that she’d designed for the white cat.
Taking a note of anything she adapted in the pattern, she upgraded it slightly, improving the pattern to make the black cat design even better. Keeping the pattern easy for others to knit, she used garter stitch, and the rows knitted up quickly. Increasing and decreasing the stitches where needed to create the shape for the cat, she sat by the window, glancing at the darkening sky.
Having knitted the pieces she needed, she stitched them together with yarn, and then stuffed the cat with a few handfuls of soft toy filling. Then she added the white whiskers, pink nose and green eyes, all stitched on using yarn.
She’d just finished making the cat when she saw a light shining from inside the old shop across the street.
There was a light on! Thinking this was her chance to peek in the window and perhaps see the elusive owner, she put her pumps on and ran downstairs.
By the time she emerged from the close, she saw the light turn off in the shop window, but she ran across anyway and peered in. But there was nothing except the usual shapes and shadows.
Glancing up and down the street, she didn’t see any sign of the owner, but there was Spindle, sitting in front of the craft shop.
Mari smiled. The real cat looked like he was part of the display of stuffed cats.
‘Hello, Spindle,’ she called over to him. She was sure he reacted to the name.
Remembering what Huntly had said about taking photos of special moments, she dug her phone out from the pocket of her cords and went to take a picture of the cat sitting in front of the shop.
Then she had a better idea, and turned around, held the phone at arm’s length, so she could capture herself in the picture with Spindle and the craft shop in the background.
Her finger was poised on the button, but the second she went to press it, a bolt of lightning flashed across the night sky, causing her to jump as she pressed it.
When she checked the image, she’d inadvertently tilted the phone back, and she had a wonderful photo of the lightning in the sky, a glimpse of herself looking startled and the stuffed cats in the background. But no sign of Spindle. The cat had run off, disappearing into the shadows of a dark close.
Shivering as a low rumble of thunder indicated that a storm was on its way, she hurried back up to her flat and put the kettle on for a cup of tea.
While it boiled, she added the picture to a file on her laptop she named, archives, along with a copy of the one Huntly had taken of her in the theatre office. It was only two pictures, but it was a start.
Making her tea, she then took several photos of the flat, the cosy living room, the bedroom and kitchen, and the views from the windows. More memories for her archives.
As she finished adding the photos, a call came through from Huntly.
His face peered out the phone at her. ‘I didn’t get a chance to thank you before you left the theatre this evening. You’ve been a great help with getting the production up and running.’
‘I’m enjoying being part of it,’ she said. ‘You were busy on a call when I was about to leave. I didn’t want to interrupt.’
‘Word is getting around that we’re putting on the new play. People are calling, interested in being involved, or wanting to know if they can come to the opening night.’
‘It’s exciting.’
‘It is.’ Seeing her smile at him, he wanted to talk to her about having no intention of breaking her heart, but unlike her, he couldn’t find the right words. Instead, a tense silence lingered for a moment.
Mari sensed the tension and decided to tell him about the new pattern. ‘I’ve knitted a black cat from a pattern I’d designed, changing the colours of the yarn.’
‘That was fast work.’
‘It’s an easy pattern, and I’ve knitted it in white before, and I’ve made lots of other soft toys.’
She held up the knitted cat and showed it to him.
Huntly smiled when he saw it. ‘It’s perfect.’
‘I’ll tidy up the notes I’ve made for the pattern, and then use this as a project for the knitting class tomorrow afternoon. If there are any bits of the pattern that they find are too fiddly or need improved, I’ll make the alterations. Then I’ll send you a copy of the finished pattern for you to read through.’
‘Thank you, Mari.’
‘And I’ve started to take pictures for my own archives.’ She told him what happened earlier.
‘You saw a light on inside the old shop?’ Huntly sounded interested.
‘Yes, but by the time I ran down to have a look in the window, it turned off and the shop was in darkness again.’
‘Did you see anyone leave?’
‘No, but I did see Spindle.’ She explained about the flash of lightning frightening the cat and it running away.
‘I heard the thunder when I was in the theatre.’ He was still there, standing up on the stage.
Mari peered out the living room window and showed him the view she had. ‘The storm seems to have blown by. All bluff and thunder.’
He felt like that talking to her. There were things he wanted to say, and yet he knew he shouldn’t as it could only lead to trouble, including broken hearts for both of them.
‘I love thunderstorms,’ she said. ‘As long as I’m cosy indoors, and able to watch the drama from my window. Or tucked up in bed listening to the rain battering down.’
‘Snuggled up safe and sound.’
Mari nodded and smiled out at him, causing his heart to ache with a longing he blamed on being overtired.
‘It’s been a long day,’ he said, easing the tension from his shoulders. ‘I’ll let you get some rest.’
She peered behind him. He seemed to be the only one left on the stage. ‘Are you finished at the theatre now too?’
‘I wish,’ said Huntly. He still had phone calls to make. People wanted to discuss the new show.And maybe he’d imagined it, but he thought he saw something twinkle above him as he said this. He blinked, but couldn’t see what it was.
‘Goodnight,’ she said, finishing the call. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow night.’
And with a smile, she was gone.
He put his phone in his pocket and sighed, and wished he could let true love and romance into his busy life.
And there it was again, a glimmer of silver sparkle in the shaded light of the stage. Gazing up, there was nothing except shadows.
Shrugging to himself, he walked off the stage, turned all the lights off in the theatre, and headed through to the office to finish making those calls.
After typing the changes she’d made to the cat pattern, she sent a copy to Ivy so that she could print it out for any class members wanting to participate in knitting it.
Then she noticed the other plays she’d written on her laptop, and started to read through one of them, seeing it with a fresh eye, one that felt more confident that her play had potential. An earlier work, she’d always loved the story.
Time wisped by as it tended to do when she became engrossed in her playwriting, and when she finally glanced up, she realised she needed to get to bed.
Snuggled under the covers, she planned how she’d organise her busy day ahead. She thought about popping out early for fresh groceries, having breakfast and then catching up on her knitting, taking the class and trying out the new black cat pattern...and fell asleep before she thought about having dinner with Huntly.
The golden sunshine emphasised the burnished colours of the bright autumn morning as Mari headed back to her flat with a bag of fresh groceries.
Dressed in a vintage, deep marigold shirt, dark green cords and pumps, she’d teamed it with one of her own knitted vests, like a sleeveless jumper, in autumnal shades from russet and gingerbread to bronze and butterscotch.
These vests were popular with her customers. They knitted up quick, some were plain coloured, but most were patterned, like the one she was wearing. The latter were great for adding colour and style to a plain shirt. The vests and waistcoats she knitted provided a cosy layer of comfy warmth.
Mari had just finished unpacking her groceries in the kitchen when a message came through on her website. Thinking it was a customer order, she checked it, and was taken aback when she saw it was from the last person she imagined she’d hear from — Scarlet.
She’d used the website to send Mari a message:
Will you meet me for coffee this morning? Scarlet named one of the cafes nearby. I’d like to chat to you about your playwriting . And make amends for squabbling .
Mari was surprised and intrigued. She checked the time. Instead of making breakfast, she decided to take Scarlet up on her offer. The cafe served delicious breakfasts, and she wanted to hear what Scarlet had to say.
They arrived outside the cafe at the same time. Scarlet wore a fashionable red skirt suit that matched her name in vibrancy.
‘Thanks for agreeing to meet me,’ Scarlet said as Mari walked up to her.
They went inside the stylish cafe and took a window seat. Scarlet perused the menu. ‘I haven’t had breakfast.’
‘Neither have I.’
‘Let’s have breakfast then, my treat,’ Scarlet insisted.
‘Do you want to share a breakfast platter? I love the croissants they serve here. But it’s always too much for one.’
Scarlet brightened. ‘Oh, yes.’ She studied the menu. ‘It includes fresh fruit, yogurt and whipped cream.’
‘And strawberry and raspberry jam.’
A mischievous smiled passed between them.
Scarlet ordered the shared breakfast. It was served up quickly, allowing them to sit in the shaded sunlight and enjoy the delicious fruits, from blueberries to raspberries, and melon and grapes, with yogurt and cream. And a pot of tea for two.
They both helped themselves to the pastries first, filling them with strawberry jam and cream, smiling that they had something in common.
‘This will keep me going until—’ Mari almost let slip that she was having dinner with Huntly. The mood between them was light, and Mari didn’t want to spoil it.
‘Until you’re at the theatre later tonight,’ Scarlet finished for her.
Mari nodded and bit into her croissant.
‘We shouldn’t squabble over Huntly,’ Scarlet stated.
Mari glanced over at her, gauging whether Scarlet was a potential friend or foe. No decision made, she kept to the neutral zone and feigned more interest in her breakfast than in Huntly.
‘Or maybe Niall is more your type.’
The look in Mari’s eyes settled that suggestion.
‘No, Niall’s nice, but he’s not my type either,’ said Scarlet.
Mari poured their tea. ‘I don’t want to become romantically involved with anyone at the moment. I have a chance to build my career as a playwright.’
‘What you want, and what the real world will throw at you are totally different.’
Mari sipped her tea.
Scarlet poured milk into her tea and stirred it. ‘Huntly and Niall are both catches. It’s an unfortunate fact. Rich, handsome, actually nice, except when Huntly is in his blunt mode, which is fairly often. Though I think it’s because he doesn’t have any real love in his life, so he gets grumpy and uses that as a front to shield himself.’ She shrugged. ‘But what do I know? Maybe he’s just a grouch.’
‘They own a theatre. I’m still knitting.’
‘I act. You write plays. We belong in their world.’
‘For work, yes, but it doesn’t mean we have to fall for them,’ said Mari.
‘They’re both luscious, so of course we’re going to twist ourselves into knots whenever we’re within kissing distance of them.’
Mari laughed.
Scarlet sighed. ‘And don’t even get me started on Jon.’
Mari’s interest sparked. ‘You like Jon?’
Scarlet looked at her across the table, and those icy eyes of hers showed a hint of warmth.
The penny dropped. ‘But Huntly and the others think—’
Scarlet took a sip of her tea, and gave Mari a knowing look.
‘Does Jon know how you feel about him?’ There was an urgency to Mari’s tone.
‘No. But none of them can see past Huntly, and Huntly can’t see past himself.’
Mari leaned back in her chair while Scarlet ate a spoonful of blueberries and yogurt. ‘Wow! That changes the battle lines.’
‘I don’t want to squabble with you, Mari. I thought maybe we could team up, or at least share gossip.’
‘I’ve no gossip to tell. Nothing of note anyway.’
Scarlet wrapped her fingers around her cup, displaying her manicured red nails. ‘But I have. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’