‘Who can that be? We’re all here, aren’t we?’ she said. ‘Did the “private party” sign fall off the door, or something?’
Kelsey quailed at the sight of Jonathan’s smile fading.
‘It’s him,’ he stammered weakly.
John Wagstaff had bumbled unware into the party and was making his way towards Kenneth and his usual spot at the bar, taking off his feathered hat and clapping his gloved hands together for warmth.
‘Sack and ale please, Kenneth,’ he called over the noisy chatter.
Over in the corner, Mirren’s head snapped up at this, and she and Adrian threw dazed glances between the old actor and Jonathan, whose only thought was for his mum.
Olivia Hathaway was tightly clasping Art’s arm. She’d recognised her old lover too.
‘Mom, are you OK?’ Jonathan was saying, but she couldn’t reply.
‘Blythe Goode?’ Wagstaff boomed in surprise when he noticed his old co-star. ‘I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good friends.’ He was already quoting Shakespeare, as was his way, and towering over her.
Blythe was as smart and quick as she always was and hastened him down to her eye level.
Kelsey watched him bend to her and she already knew what Blythe was whispering in his ear.
‘Leave?’ he boomed with a jocular theatricality. ‘I’ve only just arrived! And what a sight for sore eyes you are. Come now, let’s sit, drink and be merry!’
If anything, Blythe’s words had made him even louder and more exaggerated than usual. Everyone at Kelsey’s party was looking at him now. Blythe was shaking her head and muttering about him being an old fool.
Suddenly Jonathan was on his feet, his face a picture of pain and regret. Olivia Hathaway was gripping his wrist and telling him to sit down.
‘It’s OK. I’ll take him outside, talk to him there, tell him a few home truths while I’m at it,’ he said to his mum.
Art, Olivia and Kelsey got to their feet too, just as Jonathan slipped out between the chairs and tapped Wagstaff on the back.
Kenneth, sensing trouble, narrowed his eyes at them from behind the bar, and George and Mildred started up their yapping at the sudden change of atmosphere.
‘Yes, dear boy?’ Wagstaff said, having turned to look at the tall stranger with ice-blue eyes just like his.
Kelsey watched the emotions in Jonathan’s heart play out on his face, his jaw muscles tensing and his eyes pooling with tears even though he was fighting them away.
Mirren and Adrian were now on their feet too and making their way into the scene, casting wary glances at one another.
Jonathan opened his mouth and the old man looked on, his face a picture of innocence and incomprehension. Something moved Wagstaff to look past Jonathan and there he spotted Olivia Hathaway standing by the inglenook, her face frozen in alarm.
‘Good grief!’ he exclaimed. His eyes flicking back to Jonathan’s, the slightest hint of realisation dawning.
That was the moment it happened. Just as Olivia burst into tears and Art shielded her from Wagstaff’s gaze and Jonathan nodded gravely at the old man to confirm that what he was thinking was correct, a bright flash of light from the pub doorway lit up the bar room for a millisecond before the door swung closed again.
Everyone froze and shared looks that asked what the hell was going on. Only Mirren and Adrian moved.
‘It’s all right, we’ll sort it out,’ Mirren mouthed towards Kelsey. The two reporters dashed out the door in pursuit of the paparazzo who had caught the first meeting of the famous father and son actors on camera.
Chapter Forty
‘Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends’
(Henry VI, Part 1)
Their boots beat down upon the wet pavements as they ran, leaping up the kerbs, dodging the couples out on Valentine’s dates.
‘There he is,’ Mirren shouted at the sight of the figure all in black running towards the dark shadows of the churchyard.
