‘No… for kids’ pumpkin patch portraits. If I can pick up a few pumpkins from the supermarket and decorate the studio a little, I could offer cute Halloween shoots from now until the end of the month! The parents around here will really go for those, I bet! There’s still time to advertise it, right?’
‘I can hand out flyers on the street if that’ll help?’ Mirren offered.
‘Well that’s settled then. I’ll add on the three kids’ pumpkin costumes,’ Myrtle grinned.
‘With green leaf hats,’ added Valeria, balancing the tiny felt headpiece with its curling tendrils on her head.
‘With hats,’ Myrtle echoed, and Kelsey clapped excitedly. With this sudden turnaround, thanks to her friends, the studio might well survive the winter. All she had to do was make it work.
As they were preparing to leave, Valeria was still chattering about all the other possibilities for costumed-photo rentals.
‘Think of all the wedding receptions and high school proms and college balls! Hen dos and birthday parties too. We could make a brochure together, Kelsey, advertising our dress-up photo packages. We’ll drum up lots of trade, I’m sure of it.’
With Valeria’s only half joking cry of ‘We’ll be rich!’ ringing in their ears, Kelsey and Mirren made their way into the spitting rain that had after only a few minutes’ walk turned into a downpour. They were making their way back to what would be their shared home, at least for a while.
‘Remember this?’ Kelsey said, as they clambered up to flat 2B, dragging the bag of pumpkin costumes and Mirren’s case with them.
‘I don’t recall there being quite so many stairs,’ huffed Mirren.
Once inside her little bed-sitting room at the top of the building, Kelsey pulled the key from the lock and let Mirren take in her surroundings, familiar after her summer visits. The significance of what Mirren had done slowly sank in for both of them.
‘I forgot it was a single bed,’ Mirren said, a little guiltily.
‘You’d never fit a double in this space,’ Kelsey shrugged, nowhere near as bothered as Mirren. ‘We’ll be fine.’
Mirren stepped forward and opened the Perspex shower door at the foot of Kelsey’s little white bed and listened to the knock it made as it met the bedframe, leaving a gap of only eight or so inches for bodies to squeeze through. ‘I’d forgotten about the weird shower situation as well.’ She forced a smile, telling herself it was only temporary and Kelsey was being generous, but the compact quarters of her friend’s tiny apartment brought it home to her that she really couldn’t impose on Kelsey for longer than a few days.
‘Mind out the way,’ Kelsey said as she opened the fridge door behind Mirren’s knees and put away the bottle of prosecco, the bag of salad, coleslaw and the rotisserie chicken they’d bought from the deli on the way home. Mirren had insisted on paying in spite of Kelsey’s best efforts and they’d agreed that from now on they’d split everything they shared fifty-fifty.
Mirren pressed herself against the closed door that led to the cramped toilet cubicle, looking down at the draining board, microwave and small portable hob on the kitchen work surface. ‘I’d forgotten cooking wasn’t much of an option.’
‘Hence the rotisserie chicken,’ Kelsey said with a laugh. She was used to living a cosy, contained life here and was secretly enjoying Mirren’s efforts to suppress the dawning horror that was clearly showing on her face.
‘Oh well,’ Mirren pressed on breezily, ‘I’ll still be able to rustle you up some scrambled eggs and toast in the mornings.’
Kelsey laughed again. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’
But Mirren didn’t join in. She slumped on the bed and clasped her hands. ‘Aren’t you going to ask how long I’m staying for?’
‘Nope. Stay as long as you want.’
Mirren looked at the head of the bed and Kelsey’s white pillow, everything in the room was, by necessity, neat, compact and orderly. ‘I arrived thinking I’d hide away here for a while, but…’
‘I know. It’s scary. Believe me, I know.’ Kelsey was thinking of her first nights spent alone in this room so far from home with all its comforts and routines. ‘You’ll find your feet if you stick around. You have to give new places time.’
‘You make it sound like I’m moving to Stratford permanently.’
Kelsey threw Mirren a knowing smile that she didn’t catch. ‘This town has a way of keeping people here.’
Mirren didn’t answer; she was lost in trying to remember exactly how much money was in her bank account and how long a stay she could actually afford. Could she meet the expense of a room in a cheap B&B for a few weeks and get out of Kelsey’s hair as soon as possible? Could she find work here, temporarily, to help pay her way? Maybe she could write articles on spec for online magazines and try sending them off in the hope one or two would be picked up? Or should she bid for freelancing work online like some of her writer friends did to make extra money outside their more regular employment?
The idea of scouring through ever-changing lists of writing jobs all day, every day and then competing with other interested journalists to see whose bid would be chosen didn’t appeal to her all that much. She’d heard how this new trend in acquiring writers had driven down rates and some of her friends were providing daily copy for bestselling magazines or multinational corporations’ websites for far less than they’d earn in a Saturday job at the supermarket. But if she was staying in England she’d have to get money fast. She’d have to pay her way even if she was only hiding out for a few weeks.
Kelsey joined Mirren on the bed, slipping her hand into her friend’s and grasping it tightly. ‘You’ve gone a funny colour, Mirr. Don’t panic yet. This is a holiday, OK? You should enjoy it. You need a rest.’
‘I don’t think resting’s very likely, but thanks. What’s that?’ Mirren nodded to the bundle of envelopes in Kelsey’s free hand. She’d emptied her little compartment in the mail rack downstairs when they got in.
‘Dunno, let’s see,’ Kelsey replied, sorting the mail on her lap. ‘Water bill.’ Now it was Kelsey’s turn to look worried but she soon forgot it. ‘A postcard from Jonathan.’ She held up the image of a beautiful Ontario park looked over by a statue of Shakespeare. The back was marked only with her address and the words, ‘I’ll be home soon. Hang on in there. J, x’. They both smiled at that, and Kelsey paused over it for a moment before remembering she had company. ‘And there’s this… from Italy,oh,it must be from Norma.’
