CHAPTER TWELVE
It’s Saturday afternoon and we’re on our way to Brighton, Rob behind the wheel of his red Audi.
‘So have you rehearsed it yet?’ Rob asks.
‘Yes, I did two read-throughs with the cast using the script, even though in my bedroom, I’m always word perfect without it. But it’s the thought of performing to actual people that’s completely freaking me out.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ replies Rob with a calmness I wish I felt. ‘In fact, I’ll bet you a mulled wine and a hot mice pie that you could rehearse your lines on the beach, with me as your audience, and you’d be so good, I’d applaud at the end.’
I smile at the thought. Then I shake my head. ‘I doubt it. I’ll probably just – what’s that expression when you panic and forget your lines?’
‘Corpse?’
‘That’s it. I’ll be corpsing all over the place!’
‘We’d better keep that Midsomer Murders inspector on speed dial, then.’
‘I’d prefer Miss Marple.’
‘Miss Marple it is,’ he says, changing into a higher gear to overtake.
I glance at his profile. When Rob is relaxed and smiling, he’s really handsome. And he’s smiling right now. We’re travelling a touch too fast in my opinion (I’m not the most relaxed passenger) but I can tell already that he’s a good driver, so I feel perfectly safe.
‘I could always show you my special tricks,’ he says, glancing across and giving me a meaningful wink.
‘And what special tricks are those, Rob?’ I grin, playing the game.
‘Tricks to con people into believing I’m confident. When really I just want to leg it home and hide under the sofa.’
I laugh. ‘But you don’t need tricks like that.’
‘Ah, well, that’s where you’re wrong.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh yes, my nickname was Mouse at school. I’m incredibly, painfully shy. I just hide it really well.’
Spotting the twinkle in his eye, I start to laugh. ‘Stop it. Shyness isn’t funny. And you shouldn’t poke fun at people who are,’ I tell him.
‘Actually, I think shyness can be a really attractive quality,’ he says seriously. ‘Give me shy and modest over brash and cocky any day of the week.’
I fall silent, mulling this over.
I’ve always hated my shyness with a passion, feeling it was my biggest character flaw. It’s never occurred to me that other people – nice, well-balanced people like Rob – might actually consider my shyness attractive!
‘You’re right, though, I wouldn’t class myself as shy,’ he’s saying. ‘But that doesn’t mean I don’t have moments when I wish I had more confidence. So when I’m pitching for an important business contract and I know I’ll be nervous, I do my ‘Superman pose’ before I go to the meeting.’
I laugh. ‘Your what?’
‘You heard me.’ He grins. ‘It’s a little known fact that you can con your brain into believing you’re confident, which then makes you feel more confident. And one way to do that is to adopt what they call a “power pose” to make you feel more powerful. In private, of course. They might carry you off if you were to do it on public transport.’
I stare at him as if he’s nuts. ‘And you actually do that?’
He nods. ‘Sometimes. Because it works. Try it and see, although maybe you could be Wonder Woman instead of Superman.’
‘I suppose it’s worth a go,’ I say doubtfully.
‘I think the thing to remember is that no one feels confident all of the time. Some people are better at hiding it than others. Even the people who seem really confident in your am dram group are probably nervous as hell up on stage. Remembering that could make you feel a whole lot better about your own performance.’ He points. ‘A signpost.’
‘To help me have more confidence?’
He laughs. ‘No, to get us to this Christmas fayre.’
The fayre turns out to be really enjoyable. Rob is drawn to the woodcraft displays and I spend ages at a stall that’s selling festive gingerbread houses. I’m so impressed, I bring Rob over to see them.
‘They’re amazing,’ he agrees.
I nod. ‘Trouble is, you wouldn’t want to eat it, would you?’
He looks at me as if I’m mad. ‘I would.’
‘I’d love to buy one but I’m not sure what I’d do with it.’
‘Excuse me, Mrs Baker Extraordinaire. Why would you buy one when you could easily make one yourself?’
I snort. ‘No, I couldn’t. Something that intricate? Mine would fall apart as soon as anyone looked at it!’
He shakes his head. ‘Honestly, Fenella Redpath. Have more confidence in yourself.’
‘I’d better do a Wonder Woman pose. And don’t call me Fenella. It reminds me of when I was a kid and in trouble with Mum.’
‘Fair enough. I think the Wonder Woman idea’s a good one, though.’
‘What, right here?’
He grins. ‘You could. But just so you know, I wouldn’t be hanging around.’
‘So where, then?’
‘The beach. Come on.’
We’d planned to go for fish and chips but we both agree we’ve sampled so many edible Christmas goodies, we don’t have room for any more food. The streets are packed with Christmas shoppers we finally wind up eating ice creams on a freezing cold beach.
After we’ve finished them, Rob strikes a pose as Superman, which has me in fits of laughter. And then, with encouragement from Rob who’s under strict instructions to warn me of approaching strangers, I find myself doing a Wonder Woman, striking a confident pose and thrusting my arms in the air with a triumphant shout. To my surprise, it does feel quite empowering.
‘Right. Now do your acting thing, Fairy Godmother,’ says Rob. He folds his arms and lounges against the wall of a beach shack that’s closed for winter, smiling expectantly.
I shrug. ‘Okay.’ Taking a deep breath, I start on the speech made by the Fairy Godmother when she first appears to an astonished Cinderella. After faltering a bit at the beginning, I start shouting my lines up at some shrieking seagulls overhead, making Rob laugh, and after that, my confidence soars even more.
With only Rob as my audience, I don’t feel at all self-conscious. And just as he said he would, he claps me at the end.
I smile, feeling suddenly shy. ‘You don’t have to be nice.’
‘I’m not being nice,’ he says seriously, walking towards me. ‘That was good, Fen. You were word perfect as far as I could tell.’
‘Thanks to Wonder Woman.’ I smile happily at him. ‘Maybe I’ll smash it after all.’
He grins. ‘Well, I wouldn’t go that far . . .’
‘Hey, you!’ I nudge him with my elbow and he says ‘Oof’ and pretends to double over in pain.
On the drive back, we chat about the dress rehearsal.
‘You know, I’m feeling better about the whole thing now,’ I tell him. ‘So thank you, Rob.’
He smiles. ‘You’re very welcome, Fen,’ he murmurs, and I feel a sudden, inexplicable rush of emotion.
‘Are you okay?’ He frowns and I realise there must be tears in my eyes.
Blinking furiously, I force a laugh. ‘Yes, I’m fine. I think . . . I just always thought I was stuck with my shyness and there was nothing I could do about it. I thought it would hold me back forever. That there were things I’d never be able to do in life because of it. But you’ve shown me that’s not true.’
He reaches over, covers my hand with his and gives it a gentle squeeze. And it must be because of my sudden epiphany, but the relaxed feeling inside me seems to expand, as if a bubble of happiness is about to burst right out of my chest . . .
I suddenly wonder if Rob has someone special in his life. He’s never mentioned that he has. In the few conversations we’ve had that have touched on relationships, I’ve got the impression there is someone he likes but for some reason, it’s probably not going to happen for him. Which I think is really sad. He’s such a lovely guy.
I study his face in profile as he concentrates on the road ahead – the strong jaw, the curve of his lower lip, the faint laughter lines around his long-lashed eyes. The wind has blown strands of his dark blonde hair forward, over his ear, making him seem oddly vulnerable, and I have a sudden urge to smooth it back into place.
This girl, whoever she is, clearly doesn’t have a clue what she’s missing . . .