‘Holy shit!’
Ollie took two quick paces to the kitchen door and opened it an inch. He put his eye to the crack and stared for a moment. ‘… Is it really him?’
Jess nodded.
‘Holy royal moly. How did she meet him?’
Jess told him.
‘How come nobody recognises him?’
‘You didn’t.’
‘Yeah, but I’m an idiot.’
‘Well, when he was away in the Air Force no new photos of him were released. He went in at nineteen. Out six years later. He’s changed quite a bit since then. He grew his hair, put in some coloured contacts and started to mingle with the ordinary people.’
Ollie was still staring through the crack in the door. ‘Fuuuck. That’s amazing. Bet his cousins are really jealous. Everybody knows their faces.’
‘Quite.’
Ollie closed the door and Jess handed him a tea towel. ‘Now don’t go saying anything stupid. Just act like you did earlier.’
‘But I didn’t know who he was earlier.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Hey, I’m an actor! I can just play the part of the man who doesn’t know that the man he’s talking to is like fourteenth in line to the throne.’
‘Good thinking.’
The two of them finished the washing and drying and Jess went back to the sitting room. Louis and Brooke were stretched out on the sofa. Hutch was in the armchair and all three were watching a rerun of Blackadder.
‘Coffee? Tea?’ asked Jess.
She took their orders and returned to the kitchen, where Ollie was still looking gobsmacked.
‘Put the kettle on. They want coffee. There’s some fresh ground stuff in the cupboard above your head and a cafetière on the shelf by the cooker.’
Ollie did as he was told and then insisted on taking the tray in himself.
‘Here we go.’ He picked his way through the furniture and sprawled legs to the low stool by the fire. ‘I’ll put the tray down here and you can help yourselves.’
‘Cheers, buddy,’ said Louis, smiling at him.
‘My pleasure.’ Ollie sat on a large cushion on the floor. Jess came in carrying a tartan-patterned biscuit tin with a picture of Balmoral on it.
‘Biscuit, anyone?’
Ollie clocked the tin and watched as Jess passed it to Louis.
‘Thanks, Jess,’ said Louis. ‘I love shortbread. All those holidays in Scotland, I suppose.’
‘Oh, really?’ said Ollie. Jess shot him a warning look but he carried on. ‘My mum has a tin a bit like that one. She’s a member of the National Trust and loves going to visit castles and stuff.’
Brooke gave Ollie a daggers look.
Silence settled over the small group as they watched Hugh Laurie, as stupid Prince George, fall victim to Rowan Atkinson’s ridicule. Louis and Hutch laughed. Both Jess and Brooke stared hard at Ollie, willing him not to say anything.
‘Once my mum and I went to Windsor Castle and we had tea in the café – which was very expensive, by the way –’ shooting Louis a look – ‘Mum stole the tray that the tea came on. She reckoned she’d paid enough to have it.’
Hutch shifted uncomfortably in his armchair and gave Ollie an unamused look. Remembering the holster hidden under the man’s clothing, Ollie stopped talking. Jess blurted through gritted teeth, ‘Ollie. There’s no sugar on the tray. Please go and get some.’
Ollie looked at the tray. ‘No, there’s a bowl right there – look.’
Jess stared desperately at him and then said, ‘Ollie, oughtn’t you to be going soon? You have an early call in the morning.’
‘Not till ten.’
‘Then would you take the dogs round the block with me?’
Ollie looked at her, mystified. She’d never asked him before.
‘What, now?’
‘Yes, now.’
Ollie stood and gave Jess a mock bow. ‘OK, Your Majesty.’
But Jess was already dragging him out of the room.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ She was furiously trying to put her cardigan on but one of the sleeves was inside out and she was flailing pathetically.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Ollie, pretending to be hurt. ‘I was just making conversation.’
‘Why mention your mum nicking the tray, and why call me “Your Majesty”?’
‘Well, you started it by bringing in the bloody shortbread biscuits in the Balmoral tin.’
‘I told you not to say anything stupid, and BAM in you go, up to your neck.’
‘He didn’t notice.’
‘Hutch did.’
Again, Ollie thought of the gun and gulped. ‘Oh yeah. Maybe I’d better head back to the Starfish.’
‘Can I come with you?’ asked Jess.
‘Why?’
‘I can’t stay here. Hutch will want my room and I can’t bear the idea of bumping into HRH on the landing in the morning.’ She looked at Ollie beseechingly. ‘Please?’
‘They may not have any spare rooms.’
‘Can I stay with you? I know I can trust you.’
Ollie felt mildly insulted. ‘Oh. Can I trust you, though? I know what you cougars are like.’
Jess punched his arm. ‘I am a respectably engaged woman.’
She finally found her way into her cardigan and, whistling up the dogs, they left the cottage.
The two of them walked in peaceful silence arm in arm around the green. Ethel and Elsie trotted along, sniffing and peeing happily. The Dog Star shone brightly over the little village of Pendruggan and in the distance they could hear the sound of the sea breaking gently on Shellsand Bay.
‘That’s one Christmas present ticked off the list then,’ Ollie said. ‘It’s the shortbread for Granny.’ And he and Jess dissolved into helpless laughter.
*
‘Darlings …’ Brooke was holding her arms out, inviting hugs from Jess and Ollie. ‘Where did you go last night?’ She was sitting cross-legged on one of the green room sofas, cradling a mug of black coffee. ‘Lou was so worried that Hutch had chucked you out of your own bed.’
Jess bent to accept Brooke’s embrace, then stepped back. ‘I stayed with Ollie at the Starfish. You and Louis needed to be alone. You haven’t seen each other for weeks. Did you have a good time?’
Judging by Brooke’s impossibly sexy tousled blonde ‘bed-head’ hair, she could guess what the answer was.
‘Mmm,’ purred Brooke. ‘He’s just soooo … wonderful. In all departments.’
Jess unzipped her warm fleece and put her hands out to fend off any more information. ‘Don’t tell me. I have my memories.’
‘You mean Ollie didn’t jump your bones?’ Brooke laughed throatily.
‘I,’ said Ollie, standing tall, ‘am a gentlemen. I didn’t look once as she undressed down to her polka-dot bra and pants.’
Jess stuck her tongue out at him. ‘Well, I wasn’t going to tell anyone, but now that the gloves are off, do you know how loudly you snore?’
‘I do not!’
‘Oh really? Then why were the windows rattling?’
Brooke sat up straighter, ‘Oh yeah. Jess, there’s a message for you at the stage door. I saw a note with your name on it, pinned up on the board.’
‘Really?’ Jess looked at her watch. ‘I’ve got a few minutes before we start.’ And she walked out of the green room and down towards the stage door.
The note was from Ryan and it was in his handwriting.
Jess, darling, where are you? I’m here in Trevay. Flew in from LA last night and got a car down to surprise you. Stage-door man tells me you aren’t in till 10.00 a.m. I’m at the Starfish having breakfast. Delightful woman there. All over me. Loves Venini. Given me the Sea Horse suite, very comfy bed. God, I’ve missed you. Bell me as soon as you get this. R x
Jess felt a shot of pure happiness rush through her veins. She ran back to the green room to get her bag and find her mobile. Jonathan was there, talking to Brooke, Ollie, Colonel Stick and the cast.
‘We’re going to run the whole of Act One this morning, Act Two this afternoon. Try not to stop for anything. Keep going, even if you dry. I want to get a timing on it so I know where to make cuts if we need to.’ He saw Jess at the back panting a little and looking around for her bag. ‘Jess, you OK?’
‘Yeah, I just need to pho—’
But Jonathan wasn’t listening. Like all directors, once he’d given the orders he expected the cast to jump to it.
‘Right, everyone on stage. Mobiles off. No distractions.’
Jess wondered if she could quickly send a surreptitious text to Ryan, but Jonathan was approaching. ‘Jess, I want you to really work the scene with Brooke when she breaks up with Ollie. You are angry with her. You can see she’s making a mistake. But play the anger quietly. Dangerously. That way, when you get to the number, you can wrench the audience’s heart out with the lyrics. Yes?’
Jess put her phone back in her bag and turned her full attention to Jonathan. She had work to do. Ryan would understand.
*
The run-through went well. Nearly everyone remembered their lines and Jonathan was pleased.
Jess was eager to phone Ryan, but Jonathan had other ideas. He clapped his hands to get the cast’s attention.
‘We’re having a working lunch. I’ve sent out for soup and sandwiches. No one is to leave. I don’t want your concentration broken. This afternoon we’ll run Act Two.’
There were groans. ‘Knew you’d be pleased. If you don’t know all your lines, you have an hour to settle in a quiet corner with some lunch and go over them. We’ll start at two fifteen sharp.’
*
The afternoon went badly. Brooke burst into tears when she forgot an entire song and Jonathan, frustrated, shouted at her in front of everyone. Ollie and Jess could only mutely support her and get on with their bits. At last they’d finished and Jonathan was going through his notes.
‘Well, everybody …’ he leaned back in his rehearsal chair and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger ‘… that was bad. Really bad. I am disappointed in the lot of you. I’m not sure we’ll be ready for opening night.’ He leaned forward and put his arms on the table in front of him. His head followed. In a muffled voice they heard him say. ‘Now piss off and learn your lines.’
In the subdued quiet, people got up from where they were sitting and gathered their bits together, shooting worried glances at each other.
Dan the stage manager, who had been having a whispered conversation with the desolate-looking Jonathan, called out, ‘Listen up, everyone. Call time tomorrow is coffee at 8.30 a.m. On stage and rehearsing at nine. We’ll finish when we finish.’
No one dared to groan as they shuffled quietly off stage and away to the green room.
Jess retrieved her bag and turned her phone on. No messages from Ryan. Brooke, her sexy tousled hair now hanging in rat-tails around a face streaked with tears and mascara, looked broken. Ollie, pale-faced with anger and exhaustion, put his arms round both women.
‘We need alcohol.’