‘The morning steals upon the night,
Melting the darkness’
(The Tempest)
‘No point asking how your reunion with Jonathan went then?’ said Mirren, placing the frothy cappuccino on the bar and smirking. ‘Did you even brush your hair this morning?’
Kelsey just grinned and sipped the coffee.
‘Can you at least stop leering like that, it’s putting the brunch crowd off their eggs Benedict and it’s making me feel like the old crone of the village who only distantly remembers what sex was like. Seriously, woman!’ Mirren flicked the tea towel on the bar.
Kelsey laughed contentedly. ‘I can’t help it, can I?’ She lowered her eyes and tried hard to suppress the blushing grin. ‘Besides, nobody’s even looking. As if they could tell anyway.’
Mirren raised an eyebrow at Kelsey’s bedhead hair and smiled. ‘So where is he? Sleeping off the shock of the ravishing you gave him?’
Another laugh. ‘No he’s at the Willow Studio Theatre, remember? They’ve only got today to block outLove’s Labour’s Lostand get him fitted for his costume ahead of opening in April, and then he’s meeting the dramaturg this afternoon to talk over his lines.’
‘Sounds glamorous.’ Mirren wiped around the beer taps then set about erasing the brunch specials from the board, replacing them with the turkey and trimmings lunch the Yorick was famous for at this time of year.
‘Not if you’d seen the poor guy this morning; the red-eye flight from Canada’s left him exhausted.’ Kelsey took advantage of Mirren’s turned back to smile indulgently to herself and replay the moment she’d woken after dawn and remembered Jonathan was there in her little bed and she’d pulled him closer.
‘Oh, hello,’ he’d said, his sweet, slightly lop-sided smile revealing the tips of his white teeth in a way that made her go weak. ‘You’re here too, are you?’
‘I am. Fancy meeting you here.’ And they’d laughed like theirs was the most original comedy and looked at each other, dopey and shy in the morning light. Inevitably, they found themselves kissing again, Kelsey clambering onto Jonathan’s lap so they could rediscover each other all over again but this time slowly and with the deep, sleepy warmth and intensity of morning sex when the world outside is chilly and indoors the Christmas lights glow bright.
She’d been shocked at how visceral their attraction was now they were together in the flesh again, how real he was. His hot breath and the wet noise of his mouth and tongue crackling close to her ear as he kissed her lobes had made her delirious. She’d loved the smell of his shampoo and the way his hair had grown longer and he’d occasionally draw back from kissing her to toss his head and flick the floppy fringe aside and every time he did it he looked even more like a matinee idol than she’d remembered. She’d been held enthralled by the physical reality of the textures of his skin and the goosebumps and soft hairs raising on his arms when she kissed him. That was the kind of spellbinding closeness she’d missed, the kind you can’t feel through a screen.
‘Seriously, you’re scandalising Kenneth,’ Mirren remarked, cutting through the lovely daydream, and the poor landlord at the other end of the bar folded away his newspaper before shuffling off to see how the giblet gravy was coming along in the kitchens.
‘So what are your plans for today?’ Kelsey asked.
‘Well, let’s see; there’s clearing away the breakfast dishes, serving all the pre-matinee drinks, and we’ve got three lunch sittings before grabbing a bit of dinner sat out the back on the laundry baskets, and then evening bar service starts. There’s a singer in tonight too, so the place will be packed. Lucky for me, I knock off at seven so it’ll be a Pot Noodle for one back at the barge. No sympathy please or I might actually cry.’
Kelsey checked the pitying crumple of her mouth, but Mirren had already moved on. ‘What have you and Jonathan got planned for tonight?’
Kelsey shrugged sheepishly, trying so hard not to grin but failing.
Mirren tutted and rolled her eyes playfully. ‘What a time to swear off men. Christmas is the worst time of year to be alone.’
‘You’re not alone,’ Kelsey cried. ‘You’re single. That’s different.’
Mirren arched a brow.
‘Listen, how about we all have dinner tonight? Jonathan’s dying to see you.’
Mirren poured herself a coffee from the machine. ‘No, you guys get reacquainted. He’s only here for a few days. I’ll be fine.’ She brought her cup back to the bar, planting her elbows and cradling her face between her fists. ‘I’m just a bit homesick really.’
‘You are?’
‘I’ve been wondering what Mum’s up to, hoping she got the presents I sent… she doesn’t always answer when I call, so…’ Mirren shrugged her shoulders and her fists squished her cheeks.
‘You could always invite her for a holiday on the barge in the new year?’
‘Hmm?’ Mirren tipped her head. She hadn’t considered that. In their few brief phone calls lately – Mirren always rang her, never the other way around – they’d established a new kind of gentle civility. Sometimes, their conversation was even friendly and she’d made her mum laugh a few times with her exaggerated tales about life by the river and the ducks that still lived on the roof, but she couldn’t help the sneaking awareness that her mum could stomach her preciselybecausethey were far apart. Still, anything was an improvement. ‘You wouldn’t mind if she came for a couple of days?’
‘You’rethe one renting the barge living space…’
‘Hardly! I’m paying a quarter of what the rent should be. If that.’
