Summer Season on the Seafront. Katie Ginger
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you,’ said Gregory, disapprovingly.
‘You’re lucky I’m here and dressed. I nearly didn’t make it at all, or I could have turned up in my jimjams.’
Leaning backwards, Cecil wriggled his phone from the pocket of his trousers and began tapping away.
‘What are you doing?’ Sarah asked.
Cecil held up a finger, then resumed typing. ‘Hush.’
‘I just want to know wh—’
‘Hush,’ he said again, before turning the phone to show her the website for one of the tabloids. A giant headline read, ‘Love rat heart-throb ditches loving wife for debauched night with glamour model’.
Sarah’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. ‘He did not!’ This was incredible. Like most of the women in the UK, Sarah fancied the pants off Nathaniel Hardy, especially since he’d played a suited and booted villainous bodyguard on TV. Those well-fitting suits were mouth-wateringly attractive and he had a strong square jaw. Plus, he was supposed to be a complete darling, loyal to his first love despite starring alongside some of the most glamorous women in the world.
‘He did,’ said Gregory. ‘I got a call at about ten o’clock last night from an old acting chum who’s now an agent in London – Mr Hardy’s agent as it turns out – and he said one of his clients needed to get out of town for a bit and could we take them in—’
‘So we said yes, of course,’ cut in Cecil, his cheeks tinged pink with excitement. ‘Who’s going to say no to something like that? We’d have taken in anyone. And then he said—’
‘And then he said it was Nathanial Hardy,’ finished Gregory. ‘Honestly, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven!’ He placed his hand over his heart. ‘So then he turns up at about midnight, in a black car with tinted windows. No bags. Nothing.’
Sarah pulled back and scowled. ‘Not even spare pants?’
Cecil rolled his eyes. ‘Not that we could see, dear, no. No toothbrush either. Luckily, we’ve always got people staying so we have a supply.’
‘Of spare pants?’
‘Of toothbrushes. What is it with you and pants?’ Sarah gave a cheeky grin while Gregory gave a great yawn. ‘I couldn’t sleep a wink last night knowing he was in the next room.’
Sarah’s eyes flitted between the screen of Cecil’s mobile phone still showing the headline, and her friends’ faces. ‘So he’s really in your house? Right now? Because of this?’ She pointed to the screen and they both nodded. What the heck was going on? It was completely bonkers to think that one of the country’s best actors was only a few streets away in Gregory and Cecil’s gorgeous little cottage. Was he naked? Now that was a nice thought.
‘What are you guys gossiping about?’ asked Lottie, standing over all three of them. ‘We’re almost ready to start.’
‘Oh, nothing,’ Gregory replied, shooting a warning look at Sarah. But Sarah hated the thought of lying to Lottie, they’d become so close. Trying to be subtle, Sarah nodded towards Lottie, widening her eyes at Gregory and Cecil to show they should tell her, but from the sharp shake of his head, Gregory disagreed. Sarah tried again, bobbing her head in Lottie’s direction.
‘What’s the matter with you lot?’ asked Lottie, smirking. ‘You look like those dolls with tiny bodies and big wobbly heads.’
‘We have to tell Lottie,’ said Sarah, as the head bobbing and eyebrow wiggling wasn’t working.
Gregory took a deep breath and shot it out through his nose. ‘Oh, all right.’
‘Ooo! Tell me what?’ Lottie replied, kneeling in front of them.
‘Nathaniel Hardy is staying at our cottage. Incognito. For the next couple of weeks.’
‘Are you having me on?’ All three slowly shook their heads. ‘Yes, you are. Why would he be staying with you?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ said Cecil. ‘Don’t any of you read the papers?’ Sarah repressed a smile. ‘Because of this.’ He showed Lottie the newspaper headline. Lottie’s reaction was the same as Sarah’s, only Lottie managed to keep her mouth closed.
‘I don’t believe it,’ she said.
Conner’s voice sounded from the stage. ‘Can we get started everyone, please?’ As the play’s director, he was keen to begin rehearsing.
‘Well, it’s true,’ said Gregory, standing up and removing his jacket. ‘And not a word to anyone. Nothing can appear in the paper.’
‘I know,’ said Lottie, whose day job was photographer for the local paper, the Greenley Gazette. Gregory and Cecil walked past them and began climbing the small set of steps at the front of the stage. Sarah stared at Lottie for a moment, then they both burst out laughing.
‘What are you doing later?’ she asked Lottie. An idea had occurred to Sarah. A very naughty idea.
‘Nothing. Why?’
With a nonchalant shrug she said, ‘No reason. I just thought we might take a walk by Gregory and Cecil’s house and, you know …’
‘Secretly peer in the windows?’ finished Lottie.
‘Maybe.’
Lottie grinned. ‘Definitely.’
***
Rehearsals got underway and Sarah, frustrated that the lines just wouldn’t stay in her head, read them again from her book. ‘“I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.”’
‘No, dear,’ said Gregory kindly. ‘You sound like you’re on the intercom in the supermarket. “Clean up in aisle five”,’ he mimicked, holding his nose. ‘You need to emote. What’s wrong? You played Jasmine so well in the pantomime. I know you can do this.’
He was right. For some reason she was struggling with the part of Miranda, especially the bits where Miranda fell in love. The idea that it was something to do with Vince, her ex, or her general single status, kept flitting around at the back of her mind but she ignored it and ploughed on. She found it much easier to sing. She’d joined the Greenley Players last year by showing off her singing. It had been hard overcoming her vomit-inducing stage fright, but she’d done it, showing them she had a pretty decent voice. Acting had been surprisingly fun in the panto but this was proving hard, hard work.
‘Och, leave her be,’ said Debbie, their local mad Scottish artist. ‘She’s doing a fine job.’ Sarah smiled at her just as Cecil checked his watch for the eighty-third time, clearly desperate to get back home and see their visitor. Then it was Luke’s turn. He was playing Caliban, and had been trying different voices and styles since the beginning of rehearsals. He began his lines, breathing heavily between each word as if he’d just legged it all the way to the theatre. But rather than having the dramatic effect he was hoping for, he was coming across as horribly asthmatic. Sarah stifled a giggle while Gregory bit his lip and looked at Conner, waiting for him to tackle this one.
‘Umm … Luke,’ Conner began nervously. ‘What, umm, what are you … doing?’ He ran a hand over his long, gelled black fringe.
‘Oh,’ Luke replied, colouring slightly. ‘I thought I’d try something different.’
Mrs Andrews was the first to say, in her usual undiplomatic way, what everyone else was thinking. ‘You sound like Darth Vader.’
‘With a cold,’ offered Gregory. ‘I’d try a different technique, dear.’
‘I thought you did it brilliantly before,’ said Conner. ‘Let’s stick with that.’
At least it was better than Luke’s first attempt, which had involved some sort of lisp and a lot of spit spray. Rehearsals eventually finished for the day