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Thirty-Two
“As soon as Lucy heard about Constellations, she called Michael.” Helen leaned against the train’s window as it chugged away from Manchester Piccadilly towards the suburbs. “When was it again?”
“January 2nd,” Joan answered, popping the lid off her tea.
“Lucy and I were at Borough Market that day.” Alex fiddled with a discarded newspaper left on the table between them. “Her boss—”
Michael shook his head. “No, it was Freddie who left her that message. Lucy was still talking to him then. She called me from the market, but got my voicemail. We chatted when she got home.”
“She told me she had a work emergency.”
“Lucy’s a pretty good actress,” said Joan.
Alex narrowed her eyes. “So, Mark found out about doing Constellations that day?”
“No, he knew a few days before Christmas,” said Joan. “Just his part. The female lead hadn’t been cast then.”
“He knew before Christmas?” Alex frowned. “We were together. He never said anything.”
Joan shook her head. “Apparently, he was going to tell you on your anniversary. He reckoned you’d be thrilled: living with him during the play’s six-week run, close to us. You could write and be together every day. It would have been perfect…”
“Yeah.” Alex slumped back in her seat, her mind drifting to the star earrings Mark had bought as an anniversary gift—constellations…
Michael sighed. “When it became clear that Mark was flying back to Dublin without you, Freddie told Lucy about it. I guess he figured that maybe if you knew about the play, you might patch things up with Mark.” He shrugged. “But Lucy didn’t want to interfere. Nor did we, love, and when you decided to come up here, putting all your effort into managing your anxiety…we thought it best that you didn’t know. It would be easier for you to move on if you didn’t know he was in Manchester.”
“Didn’t I say, Michael? We should’ve told her.” Joan put her arm around her granddaughter’s shoulder.
Michael crossed his arms. “Now I’m wishing we had, too.”
Alex sighed. “It was a total shock, but…once I knew, I had to see him…”
“I’m glad we found you afterwards. I hated the thought of you stuck in that theatre with Mark and that hussy,” said Joan. “I had a lovely vanilla slice while we waited for the play to finish, and the café girl gave me it for nothing.”
“You hate vanilla,” said Alex.
“You can’t truly appreciate chocolate without a little vanilla, love.” Joan smiled.
“How you could eat, Joan…I was worried sick.” Helen looked at Alex. “You had been crying…”
Alex shook her head. “I didn’t cry over Mark. I cried because the play really touched me.”
“Or maybe a bit of both?” Joan squeezed Alex’s shoulder.
She stared at the sports headlines on the newspaper’s back page and flipped it over. A familiar face smiled from the top corner. “Is that Mark?” She grabbed it for a closer look.
“A play review?” Joan leaned in.
“I’m gonna read it.”
“Is that a good idea?” asked Michael.
“Dad, I just sat through seventy-minutes of Mark acting out a relationship with Fallon. I think I can handle a review. Despite…everything, it was a great play. I’d like to see what they thought.”
Alex flipped to the article: Lairds and Liars Star Talks Fans, Theatre, and Manchester. “It’s a Q&A.”
A slow breath left her lips. She began reading. Michael and Helen kept an eye on her, and Joan read over Alex’s arm.
Q: Two and a half years after graduating from drama school you landedLairds and Liars. Did luck play a part in your success?
