Chapter 16 #2
Jennifer was chatting about how the role explored the difficult and limited choices even the most privileged women had to make at that time in history.
Violet had heard this several times already today, so she tuned out as Jennifer talked about duty and social convention versus the heart.
Her gaze fell on Finn again, sitting beside Jennifer and looking for all the world as if he hadn’t heard this same speech several times already today.
Violet’s stomach rumbled, and she tried to smother it into silence with her hands.
Ten minutes later, they had covered Finn and Jennifer’s reactions to being cast, how they got along working together, whether there was any romance between them off the screen as well as on, and what the costumes were like to work in.
Violet checked the time. They must be nearly done.
Her stomach was rumbling with increasing regularity and volume.
The journalist was ramping up for the next question.
‘This is a story that, for both Beatrice and Nathanial, is deeply rooted in family and duty.’ Jennifer and Finn smiled encouragingly.
Violet tuned back in. This was a slightly different tack than previous interviewers, but not off topic per se.
She glanced around for Derek, but he was nowhere in sight.
‘Finn, Nathanial has such a big family and such a strong sense of duty to his family.’ Finn nodded, waiting. ‘And such a close relationship with his father. Was that in any way difficult for you to play as an actor, having lost your own father at such a young age?’
Violet’s head snapped around. Finn’s smile dropped like a stone and his face went pale.
Beside him, Jennifer’s hands fluttered in her lap, plucking at the skirt of her dress.
Finn’s father had died when Finn was young?
Violet had had no idea. Her brain was in overdrive, trying to process this, trying to remember if there had ever been a time at college when he had mentioned this, or spoken about his father.
Of course not, they had hardly been confidants.
‘Um, I…’ Finn gave a humourless laugh.
The journalist leaned forward and tilted her head, waiting.
Finn stared blankly forward, a deer caught in headlights.
Violet was on tiptoes, her head on a stalk as she craned to see where Derek was. Nowhere to be seen, that’s where.
Shit.
Violet had no idea what the protocol was here. How far off piste was this question? Should she let Finn handle it? Would the journalist back off?
Finn was running a hand through his hair now, his eyes roving about in the distance.
He glanced at Jennifer, whose eyes flickered between him and the journalist. Violet watched as he shifted in his seat and swallowed.
His face had recovered its colour and was slightly flushed. He cleared his throat.
‘I don’t—’
‘Copy that,’ Violet shouted suddenly, the sound bouncing around the space.
The journalist’s back stiffened, and Finn and Jennifer both looked up in surprise at her shout. She barrelled forward towards them. Grabbing her radio, she held it up in case anyone was watching and, without pressing the talk button, said into it, ‘Copy that!’
‘Um, I am so so sorry,’ she said, as she reached the little interview huddle. ‘That was the director on the radio. Finn is needed urgently for…’ her mind blanked. ‘He’s needed on set, they’re ready for him,’ she finished lamely.
The journalist tapped a manicured fingernail on her tablet and pursed her lips.
‘I just have these last couple of questions, surely we can—’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Violet interrupted, with a smile as sweet as sugar. ‘He’s needed right now.’
Finn took the cue like a pro and was on his feet before Violet had finished speaking. Reaching down, he grasped the journalist’s hand.
‘Pleasure to meet you, so sorry to have to run.’
Then he unclipped the little mic, pressed it into her palm, and strode off set.
Violet hurried after him, speaking performatively into her switched-off radio.
‘I have Finn, we’re on our way for him being on set…’
As she rounded a corner of the set and onto the side of the stage, she crashed straight into Finn’s chest.
‘Oh, shit,’ she staggered back and nearly tripped over one of the stage braces.
Finn reached out and steadied her, his hands on her wrists, pulling her back towards him.
It was dark here, only the glow from the emergency lighting showing the way to the exits.
From the stage, Violet could hear Jennifer’s laugh, so it seemed the interview had resumed and taken a different direction.
‘Thank you,’ Finn said quietly. ‘For jumping in there.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Violet whispered. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I was supposed to let you answer the question or … or what. And you didn’t seem happy. I couldn’t see Derek, so I… I improvised.’
‘Good acting skills,’ Finn said. ‘For a moment there, I really thought I was needed on set.’
Violet, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, could see his smile. She laughed softly and fiddled with the radio cord.
‘I wasn’t expecting a question like that,’ Finn added.
They were quiet for a moment, standing close in the darkness, the murmur of Jennifer and the interviewer a hum in the background.
‘I’m sorry about your dad,’ Violet said. ‘I didn’t know.’
Finn rubbed at his jaw. ‘Why would you? We didn’t exactly sit around the campfire sharing stories, did we?’
Violet shook her head.
Finn’s hands moved up to her shoulders. She could feel the heat from his fingers.
‘Thanks for stepping in,’ Finn said, his face in shadows.
She caught the faint scent of something peppery mixed with citrus and wood smoke.
The aftershave was at odds with his 18th century labourer’s garb.
The combination of his proximity, the spicy scent and the feel of his hands gripping her shoulders was doing a number on Violet. She swallowed.
‘You really—’
Violet’s radio crackled in her ear, and the bubble burst. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved. Waggling her eyebrows at Finn, she pointed at her radio earpiece. Finn dropped his hands to his sides, his gaze still fixed on her face.
‘Copy that,’ Violet said after a moment. Looking up at Finn, she grinned. ‘You won’t believe this.’
‘What?’
‘They’re ready for you on set.’