‘On a scale of one to ten … how excited are you about this date with Sam?’ teased Grace, straightening my hair then backcombing the fringe and pinning it back to give it some height.
It was six thirty in the evening, George Ezra was singing his heart out from the iPod and I was sitting at Grace’s dressing table on her insistence that she gave me a helping hand to look drop-dead gorgeous for my theatre date with Sam.
‘It’s not a date as such.’
‘You said it was a date,’ she insisted.
‘It’s a figure of speech,’ I argued, even though I was hoping it was exactly that – a date.
‘Despite what some villagers think of the Reids, Sam’s a decent guy,’ said Grace, staring at me through the mirror while wafting the can of hairspray all over my hair.
‘Go easy,’ I spluttered.
Grace gave me the once over and swung the chair back towards the mirror. ‘Ta-dah! What do you think? Glam or what?’
‘It looks stunning,’ I answered, pleasantly surprised, staring at my reflection.
‘Now, you need to decide what you are going to wear.’
‘Maybe a summer dress? Flats and a cardigan?’ I suggested.
‘Sounds just the ticket,’ said Grace, swiping a handful of clothes from her wardrobe and laying them out on the bed for me to choose. ‘What about this one?’
She handed me a duck-egg-blue floral dress which I held up against my body while staring into the mirror. ‘I’ll try it on,’ I said, slipping into the bathroom.
Two minutes later, I stood in the doorway of Grace’s bedroom. ‘Well? What do you think?’ I asked, giving her a twirl.
‘Perfect, now pumps or flats?’ She held up both.
‘Flats,’ I answered, slipping my feet inside a pair of ballet shoes.
‘Looking gorgeous, and I now declare you ready,’ Grace smiled, handing me a handbag. ‘Now it’s time,’ she tapped her watch, ‘to go and have fun.’
Grace followed me down the stairs and after I grabbed my cardigan she playfully pushed me out of the front door.
There was a taxi outside with its engine running and as I began to walk down the path Sam caught my attention. The second he opened his front door and stepped out on to his path, my heart soared and my eyes travelled up the length of his body. I had to do everything in my power not to gasp out loud. Goose pimples flashed across my skin and my stomach flipped. He wouldn’t have looked out of place on the front of a men’s fashion magazine wearing a crisp white shirt, tucked into a pair of Levi’s accompanied by brown loafers.
I began to feel extremely nervous and gave Grace a fleeting glance over my shoulder. Her eyes sparkled and she gave me the thumbs up before slowly shutting the front door.
Sam’s eyes lit up the second he saw me and his handsome face broke into a huge beam. We met at the garden gate, and he took my hands and kissed me softly on the cheek. I blushed and lowered my eyes. ‘Not a bad-looking date,’ he teased. I was hit with the woody scent of Sam’s aftershave which immediately made me go weak at the knees and sent a shiver down my spine. He smelt divine.
‘Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself,’ I said coyly, suddenly feeling shy.
He gestured towards the taxi and in a gentlemanly manner opened the door as I climbed inside.
My heart thumped wildly as he fastened his seatbelt and his hand lightly brushed against mine. After telling the driver where we were going, he settled back into his seat.
We watched the village pass us by and soon the cab was speeding up the A38. There was a comfortable silence and every now and then I sneaked a look at him, only to find him smiling back at me.
When we arrived at the theatre, Sam casually took hold of my hand as we strolled through the doors. My heart gave a little leap at his unexpected touch.
Inside the theatre, there was a buzz of excitement everywhere. It was mainly couples sitting and chatting at the bar in the foyer, sharing a bottle of wine. I stared up at the magnificent posters and the screens advertising the upcoming performances.
‘What are we watching?’
‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ answered Sam.
‘One of my favourites.’
The rest of the lobby was swarming with people queuing for programmes and refreshments. With only fifteen minutes until the performance began, the double doors into the auditorium were swung open and people began to filter through to take their seats.
‘Floor or circle?’ I asked Sam, wondering which queue to join.
‘Neither,’ he grinned. ‘Come on,’ he took my hand and led me through a door at the side of the bar. I trailed behind up a flight of stairs leading to a rabbit warren of tunnels. There was no one else in sight.
‘Are you sure we should be up here?’
Before he could answer, a member of staff appeared from nowhere and greeted us both.
‘Good evening Mr Reid. Good evening, Madam.’
‘Good evening,’ I replied politely, taking it all in and wondering what was going on.
‘Let me show you to your box.’
‘Box?’ I uttered under my breath. My eyes caught Sam’s and I smiled shyly. He looked even more gorgeous under the dimmed light.
‘Let me show you to your seats.’
As the lady drew back the curtain a tingle of excitement ran through my veins. ‘Look at this,’ I said out loud in amazement, feeling like an excited child on Christmas Eve.
The box was extravagant with two red velvet chairs facing out over the balcony and a small table, on which sat a bottle of champagne chilling alongside two glass flutes.
‘Can I get you anything?’ the waitress asked politely.
Sam gestured towards me.
‘I’m okay, thank you.’
‘I think we are just fine for now,’ he smiled.
‘I’ll be back during the interval.’ And with that she turned and drew the curtain behind her.
I couldn’t hide my excitement. ‘Sam, I don’t know what to say. This is just perfect.’
He grinned, placing his hand on my knee. ‘Let me pour you a drink.’ He reached for the bottle and promptly popped the cork and handed me a glass.
‘Cheers,’ he held up his glass.
‘How have you managed to book a box? Aren’t they like gold dust?’
Sam chinked his glass against mine and smiled, ‘After performing here on many occasions I’ve become friendly with the manager.’
I couldn’t quite believe it. I was in awe, my jaw was somewhere below my knees at the extravagance of it all.
Leaning forward, I peered over the balcony admiring the view below.
The audience were settling in their seats and talking amongst themselves. I felt like royalty when someone below nudged the person next to her and they glanced upwards, deciding whether they recognised us or not.
‘That couple are watching us, I think they think we are someone famous,’ I whispered, not really knowing why I was whispering, as they couldn’t hear me.
Sam grinned and held my gaze.
For a moment, I actually thought he was going to lean over and kiss me. I was hoping.
‘You have an eyelash on your cheek,’ he said, being very attentive and gently brushing it away before giving the couple who were still staring a quick wave of the hand.
I giggled, ‘They certainly will think you’re famous now.’
Sitting here with Sam, I felt at ease. There were no awkward silences and conversation flowed easily. I knew at some point this evening I needed to bring up the conversation about Village Day, but things were going so well that I didn’t want to spoil things or create any tension.
‘This is one of my favourite performances,’ smiled Sam as the auditorium fell silent.
The lights dimmed and the curtains drew back, revealing the stage right below us.
I gasped, ‘What an amazing view.’
I knew I was gawping with a huge smile on my face, but I couldn’t help it. Sam was watching me with amusement.
We pulled up our chairs to the edge of the balcony and as the orchestra struck we entered the enchanted world of Shakespeare. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, watching the lush forest besieged by a love triangle. I completely lost myself in the dance and music of it all.
‘Hey, you’re tearful,’ Sam noticed twenty minutes later.
Choked up, I fanned my hand gently in front of my eyes. ‘It’s the music, the romance of it all, it gets me emotional every time,’ I admitted, dabbing my eyes with a tissue.
‘It’s those feuding fairies that get me every time,’ he smiled warmly, slowly slipping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in close and holding me there, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
As soon as the first act ended, I felt saddened, not because I was disappointed in the performance but because I didn’t want it to end, even though there was still the second half to look forward to.
As soon as the lights flooded the auditorium, people began to move from their seats and disperse towards the exits.
‘At least we don’t have to go and queue at the bar,’ said Sam, topping up our drinks.
I thanked him before making my excuses and taking a quick trip to the bathroom, primarily to check the state of my make-up. After blubbing into a tissue, no doubt my mascara was streaked down my cheeks.
Pleasantly surprised when I looked in the mirror, I powdered my face, swiped blusher across my cheeks and, after a quick dab of lip gloss, I rang Grace who immediately picked up.
‘I feel like a princess!’ I exclaimed, overwhelmed. ‘We have champagne, and the best seats in the house.’
‘So, it’s going well?’ laughed Grace.
‘Very well, the view is amazing and the company … even better.’
‘Sounds like you are quite smitten, my girl,’ stated Grace.
‘Maybe,’ I answered, my mouth hitching into a smile every time I thought of him.
‘You enjoy every minute.’ And with that Grace hung up.
Returning to the box, I slipped back into the seat next to him.
Sam’s pose was relaxed, one arm draped across the back of my chair, his legs crossed and stretched out before him. He was sipping his champagne. My heart beat faster at the sight of him. I wanted this night to go on forever.
‘You okay?’ He gave me a warm smile.
‘Couldn’t be better,’ and I truly meant it.
He passed me my glass then rested his hand gently on my knee. ‘How good was the first half? I feel emotional myself,’ he said, gazing into my eyes. ‘There’s something so magical about the theatre.’
A man in touch with his emotions! I was impressed. My thoughts quickly flashed back to Bert and Dorothy. They’d got Sam all wrong, and by persuading Sam to help me with Village Day, I was determined to prove to them how genuine he was.
‘I know this isn’t the right moment,’ I said softly, not making eye contact and staring over the balcony into the crowd, ‘but I am sorry about yesterday … Bert … then Ben.’
‘You don’t need to be sorry,’ he sighed, ‘the contention stems from years ago. My uncles and the Carters were rivals from way back, even before Uncle Oscar went to prison … They used to gather down in the local town to fight. Enemy alpha males always wanting their gang to be on top – it’s carried on for generations.’ Sam took a sip of his drink and turned towards me. ‘My mum doesn’t even have anything to do with her own brothers and I haven’t spoken to anyone from that side of my family for years. We have no common ground. I don’t aspire to their petty criminal behaviour. And I’m not interested in keeping any type of pointless feud going with the likes of Ben Carter because of generations before. I have dreams and I work hard in a career I love, but I am sorry my uncle stole the car that killed your grandma.’
I could hear a twinge of sadness in Sam’s voice. ‘You don’t have to be sorry for something that had absolutely nothing to do with you.’
‘Hearing you say that, means a lot.’
‘Call it common sense.’ I smiled warmly, resting my head against his shoulder and looking up at him. His eyes held mine, then he kissed me lightly on the top of my head before resting his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in close.
Just at that second, the lights dimmed and the theatre fell silent. We both fixed our eyes towards the stage.
The orchestra sounded and the curtains opened. Act Two was underway.
An hour later the equally stunning second half came to a close. The evening had been perfect. My eyes were still glistening with tears, lost in the true romance of the performance. ‘I’ve had the most fantastic evening, Sam. Shakespeare gets me every time.’
‘You are a big softie,’ he grinned, holding my hand whilst hailing a taxi with his other hand.
‘Where to?’ asked the driver through his open window.
Sam looked my way. ‘Are you hungry?’ he asked, holding the cab door open as I climbed inside.
I shook my head, I wasn’t.
‘Shall we go for a drink?’
Again, I shook my head and made eye contact with the driver in the mirror. ‘Can you take us back to Brook Bridge village, please?’
Sliding into the seat next to me, Sam gave me a quizzical look. ‘You okay?’ he asked tentatively.
‘Don’t worry, the night’s not over yet, I’ve got something to show you.’
Sam cocked an eyebrow.
‘Not like that,’ I laughed, swiping his leg in jest, even though the fluttering in my stomach was now an anxious one as the driver pulled away from the theatre, because we were heading towards the Florrie Rose School of Dance.