CHAPTER ELEVEN
The spectacular view of Edinburgh enticed Mari to stay longer with Huntly, and the thunderstorm had faded into the night, leaving the sky a calm blue sprinkled with stars. But the evening was wearing on, and she was still dressed as if she belonged in a fairytale.
They were sitting in the living room, forgetting the time, steeped in conversation about the theatre, classic plays of yesteryear, Huntly’s plans for forthcoming shows for the winter and Christmas, and Mari’s eagerness to work on her new plays.
‘Thank you for dinner,’ Mari said, standing up. ‘But it’s getting late. I should change out of this ballgown.’
Huntly nodded, realising it was approaching midnight, and then he looked thoughtful. They’d been so engrossed in talking about other things that he hadn’t had a chance to gauge her reaction to something special.
‘Before you go, how about a song?’ He stood up and gazed down at her looking hopeful.
Mari laughed lightly. ‘My dancing is far better than my singing.’
He smiled. ‘No, what I mean is...I’ve been offered a song for the play, written by a composer. It’s a new piece he’s written. A modern classic.’
She looked interested. ‘Like a theme song for the play?’
‘Yes. He came to the theatre this morning and played it on our piano. He’s an excellent musician, and trying to place his material where his work will be showcased. Niall and I think it’s viable. The play isn’t a musical, but a theme song would be a way to add to the atmosphere and the drama for the opening scene and as a crescendo when the play finishes.’
‘I’m inclined to say yes, but I’d obviously love to hear it first.’
Huntly frowned. ‘He didn’t leave a recording of the song. He just played it for us on the piano. But he did leave a copy of the music. It’s downstairs in the office. Come on, I have an idea.’
Clasping Mari’s hand, he led her outside, taking the scenic route again. ‘I thought you’d like another look at the view.’
They paused again to admire the lights glistening all around them.
The heady autumn air blew gently through the fabric of her dress, and she breathed in the beauty of the night.
Huntly’s tall, broad shouldered stature shielded her from the cold, but then he hurried her down the stairs and into the warmth of the theatre. They had it all to themselves.
‘I’ll get changed,’ Mari said, heading through to the wardrobe area. ‘And I’ll show you the knitted black cat pattern I brought with me.’
‘Great, I’ll pick up the sheet of music from the office and meet you back at the piano.’
They headed away in different directions.
Pockets of lighting illuminated the theatre and created an atmosphere that felt warm and shielded from the outside world.
In a trail of sparkling chiffon, Mari hurried backstage and along to wardrobe, past the rails of costumes to the changing area.
Mari found her jumper and skirt neatly folded where Heather had left them there for her, along with her bag. The knitted black cat’s face peered over the top of the bag, its green eyes stitched on with yarn.
She managed to unfasten the back of her ballgown and stepped out of the most beautiful dress she’d ever worn.
Quickly putting her clothes on, she picked up her bag.
Hanging the dress up on a rail, she headed back through to the heart of the theatre.
The baby grand piano was set up at an area at the side, and was lit by a spotlight. The lid was propped up ready for playing.
Huntly stood beside it, pouring over the sheet music, rehearsing it in his mind.
‘Are you going to play the song?’ Mari said, sounding excited.
‘I’ll give it a go.’ He sat down on the piano stool and put the sheet music on the stand.
Mari settled into one of the front row seats. The theatre was so silent she imagined she could hear her eagerly beating heart.
And then Huntly started to play the dramatic opening notes, filling the theatre with the melodic music.
It was a magnificent modern classical piece, and she knew as soon as she heard it that it was perfect for the show.
But her heart was enthralled too by Huntly’s playing, his skill as a pianist.
The wonderful rich tones from the baby grand piano rose to a triumphant crescendo, resonating in the theatre, and lingered for a moment after Huntly had lifted his hands off the keys.
‘I love the song, and you play it so well,’ she said, walking over to stand at the side of the piano.
‘We’ll include it as part of the show. I’ll contact the composer.’
‘Will you play the song?’
‘No, the composer is a marvellous pianist. He’ll record it in a studio. We’ll play the recording of the song during each performance.’
‘I should’ve recorded you playing it,’ she said. ‘That would’ve been a highlight for the archives.’
‘The theatre’s acoustics are excellent. Sometimes, when I’ve locked up the theatre for the night, and everyone has gone home, I indulge in playing the piano. A favourite rhapsody or concerto.’ He tapped the stool. ‘I keep a selection of sheet music tucked inside the seat’s handy storage unit.’
Mari pictured Huntly sitting there on his own playing into the night.
Huntly continued. ‘I have a baby grand piano at my house in Edinburgh, but I’m so busy these days I rarely have time to play it.’ He swept his fingers lightly across the piano keys. ‘This let’s me keep my hand in at least.’
‘You play beautifully,’ she said, still feeling the tingles from his performance.
‘Do you play at all?’
‘No, but it must be a wonderful feeling to sit down and play like you did,’ she said wistfully.
Huntly moved to one side of the piano stool. ‘Sit down and play a few notes.’
Mari hesitated, but was tempted.
‘Come on,’ he said.
She sat down beside him, and he gently instructed her, placing her hands on the keys.
Her heartbeat increased from his closeness, the touch of his hands on hers, as he showed her the technique for her hand position.
‘Relax,’ he instructed her. ‘Let your fingers gently drop down on to the keys. Not too hard.’
She felt the notes resonate beneath her fingers, and smiled as Huntly helped her to play a few more notes.
‘Breathe, don’t hold your breath,’ he told her.
She tried to follow his instructions, but she kept catching her breath from the sheer excitement of sitting there with Huntly trying to follow his lead.
Finally, she lifted her hands away. ‘Thank you for my first ever piano lesson. Though I think I’ll stick to writing.’
‘And knitting,’ he reminded her. ‘Didn’t you say you had a pattern to show me?’
‘I do.’ She stood up and went over to where she’d left her bag.
Huntly followed her.
‘Everyone in my class today at the craft shop enjoyed knitting the pattern,’ she said, giving him a copy of it. ‘It’s easy to knit.’
Huntly read the instructions. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’
‘Can you knit at all?’ she said.
‘Not a stitch. I’ve no idea how to cast on and knit rows,’ he said, reading the instructions. ‘But I like the look of the pattern.’
‘Ivy made up this sample bag to show you how the kit could be sold.’
Huntly peered in the paper bag.
‘It contains a copy of the pattern, a picture of the finished cat, the yarn and a knitters sewing needle for stitching the seams together with yarn, and to sew the eyes, nose and whiskers,’ she explained. ‘And soft filler to stuff the cat.’
‘So there would be everything you need in the one bag,’ he said.
‘Yes, and a pair of basic knitting needles could be included, depending on how you want to cost it.’
Huntly lifted up the cat she’d knitted. ‘He’s got character. I like him.’
‘I adapted a pattern I had, and I think it works well.’
‘Can I keep this kit to show Niall in the morning?’
‘Yes, I brought it to give to you.’
‘Ideal.’ Then he grinned at her. ‘I noticed that Ivy’s shop window had knitted cats on display. I was going by this morning when I popped out to buy groceries for our dinner.’
‘Yes, and customers are having fun making them.’
He checked the time, then picked up the knitted cat, the sample pattern bag with the yarn, and the new song’s sheet music. ‘I’ll put these in the office and then walk you home.’
‘You don’t have to do that,’ she said, knowing he would insist. Deep in her heart she liked that he wanted to see her home.
Huntly hurried away to the office. ‘Wait here. There’s something I promised I’d show you.’
She waited, wondering what he had in mind.
Dropping the items in the office, he walked back down to join her. ‘You wanted to know how to open the wrought iron gate at the old entrance to the theatre.’
‘The gate with no key and no lock.’
‘There’s a knack to it. We’ll leave through that route and I’ll show you.’
Huntly switched the lights off behind them as they walked through the corridors leading to wardrobe and then to the exit door.
The night air wafted in as he pushed it open.
Mari’s jumper kept her warm as she followed Huntly along the narrow pathway at the side of the theatre. Everything was cast in shadows and light, but she felt a sense of excitement in the air, that they were out so late at night, up to mischief.
He stopped in front of the securely closed gate. A dim light shone a glow so she could see what he was doing.
‘Give me your bag,’ he said.
She handed it to him.
‘Now put your hands through this gap here, between the bars.’
Mari did as he instructed.
Hoisting her bag up on to his shoulder, he guided her hands. ‘Twist and turn your hands and wrists like this, while pressing against this part of the hidden mechanism.’
Click. The gate opened.
‘It worked!’ she said.
‘Right, now once we’re through, just pull the gate shut behind you. You’ll hear it lock again.’
They stepped through and Mari closed the gate behind them.
Another click sounded in the quiet of the night.
‘That’s very handy,’ she told him.
‘Hopefully you won’t need to use it like we did when we were running away.’
‘No, but considering the drama you create, it’s handy to know the knack,’ she said, taking her bag from him.
The narrow pathway took them to the front of the theatre.
He glanced up at it. ‘Work starts tomorrow morning on the lights. We’re going to add them around the theatre sign and on the edges of a new canopy. We’ll take pictures and update our website with our new look.’
Mari pictured it all aglow in the night, and people queuing to get into the theatre to see the shows.
Then they started to walk down the street.
‘Will you be going back to your private turret?’ she said lightly.
‘Yes, I’ve an early start in the morning. Sammy and Peter are helping organise the new lights for the front of the theatre. So be prepared for some razzle dazzle.’
‘You seem to spend little time in your house,’ she remarked.
‘I’m planning to balance things better. It’s just such a crazy busy time. I miss relaxing at home though. I like pottering around in my garden. The flowers are still looking lovely, lingering from the summer blooms, lots of roses, gardenia, gerbera and I have sunflowers.’
‘I love flowers, and would like a garden again one day. The flat is great, but it obviously doesn’t have a proper garden.’
‘Come and have dinner with me at my house one evening and have a potter around the plants.’
‘Is this a ruse to get me to tame your garden for you?’ she joked.
He played along. ‘Ah, you caught me out.’
She wanted to take him up on his offer that dangled enticingly in the air.
‘But do come round for dinner,’ he said. ‘We’ll arrange a date that suits us.’
‘Okay, I’d like that.’
They walked on, chatting.
He brought up the subject of dating, and she deftly avoided going into the tedious details of splitting up with her ex–boyfriend. ‘I’m not one for digging up my past romantic disasters as there’s little to find except weeds.’
Huntly nodded. ‘I’ve been called a reluctant romantic, though I’d argue that I’m more unlucky in love than an avoider of it.’
‘It’s a good job we’ve both decided to put romance on the back burner to concentrate on our work.’
‘Yes,’ he heard himself agree, while feeling the truth fighting to be heard.
He’d enjoyed having dinner with Mari, and his entire evening had been brightened by her company. It was hard to recall a time when he’d had more fun and felt satisfied just dining and chatting.
They’d dealt with a lot of business, having time to discuss various matters without the inevitable interruptions of the theatre, and he felt he knew her a little better, but this only caused his interest in her to rise to a level where he was sorely tempted to ask her out on a proper date.
But he heeded his own warning not to do it. In the cold light of day he’d regret wasting what had been a memorable evening.
‘Are you taking any knitting classes tomorrow?’ he said as they walked down towards the craft shop. Ivy had left a little string of twinkle lights on in the window display and it acted like a beacon guiding their way to Mari’s flat.
‘No, but I’m planning to catch up on my knitting, and I’m particularly excited to do some writing. Unless you need me at the theatre.’
‘There’s nothing urgent planned,’ he said. ‘Make your own hours to suit your work. I’ll call if anything requires your involvement. Or if there’s another drama I’ve created or become involved in.’
‘I’ll expect to hear from you in the morning, afternoon and evening then,’ she said.
Huntly’s laughter sounded in the quiet street. ‘You have my measure now, don’t you.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure about that. You’re a man just full of surprises.’
‘Fun ones, I hope.’
‘Yes, and I’m still impressed with your piano playing.’
‘I don’t usually play specifically for anyone.’
‘I’m flattered you played for me. Though I understand you wanted me to hear the new song so you could decide whether to include it in the show.’
‘The gossip is going to spark, and people will say I was serenading you.’ This wasn’t so far from the truth.
‘I won’t tell anyone you played if you won’t,’ she said.
Huntly shook his head. ‘They’ll find out. There are no secrets in the theatre.’
‘I quite like that. Everything out in the open. Though I’m anxious about being pictured in part two of the magazine feature.’
Huntly gestured as if it was a headline. ‘Marigold goes wild in the theatre. Playwright’s secret passion for waltzing.’
Clasping her in his arms, Huntly began whirling her across the cobbles.
Her laughter resonated in the quietude as he spun and whirled her down the street and stopped outside the close beside the craft shop.
For one breathless moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, and she couldn’t have promised that she would’ve resisted him.
But instead of compromising her, he let her go and stepped back, though still near enough to remain a temptation to her wandering thoughts.
Mari gathered herself and shrugged her bag back up on to her shoulder. ‘You’re a scoundrel.’
Huntly laughed.
Mari cast him a smile and then headed through the close and up the stairs to her flat.
Huntly went with her and waited until she’d jiggled her key in the lock and opened the door.
‘It’s finicky,’ she said.
‘You know the knack though. And how to open the old gate at the side of the theatre.’
‘Yes, so now you won’t be able to hide from me in the theatre. I know the secret way in.’
For a moment, his face looked sensual and serious. ‘I’d never want to hide from you, Mari.’
Then he stepped back from his own temptation.
‘So, I’ll call you tomorrow then with whatever mischief and mayhem I’ve stirred up.’
He heard her laughing as he walked away, ending one of the best nights he’d had in a long time.
Walking back up to the theatre, he thought about the offer he’d made that she’d accepted. Dinner at his house. A mistake, or a chance to deepen their friendship?
He hadn’t figured out an answer by the time he’d reached the theatre. Glancing up at the entrance, he pictured it would soon be all lit up with lights. The early start didn’t seem daunting. He was eager to help get the work done. It was time to shine and promote the theatre.
Upstairs in his bolthole, he stripped off and got ready for bed. Wandering through in his dark silk shorts to the living room to turn the lights off, he noticed his laptop was lit up with messages. People had seen the online feature.
He sat down and quickly replied to them, offering invitations to some to attend the opening night of the play, adding details to others, responding to all the messages from friends and acquaintances.
One message was from a radio interviewer inviting him and Niall on to the show to talk about the play. He confirmed his interest in this and mentioned about having a theme song, something he thought would be ideal for the radio interview.
Dealing with all the messages, he closed the laptop and headed through to bed.
Lying there, gazing out at the view of the city at night, he rewound his evening with Mari. His heart reacted just thinking about her.
From all the messages he’d received, he knew she was bound to have been contacted too, about her playwriting.
During the evening, she’d spoken about the other plays she’d written. Two and a half to be precise. The storylines were all different, and he’d told her he was interested in reading them when she felt they were ready. Even the half finished one sounded exciting and intriguing. But he’d made it clear that she was free to show other directors too.
Forcing himself to get some sleep, he drifted off, wondering what drama he’d attract in the busy day ahead.