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48
Jack
I took my place on stage, nodding at Monty who was playing my father-in-law. He was a lovely guy and a brilliant actor; the whole company had really bonded in the end, once Joe calmed the fuck down and rehearsals stopped being so tense. I held my prop cup and saucer aloft and imagined myself into a living room in a house in Crystal Palace. I was a city boy (which was surprisingly fun to play, even if I couldn’t stand them in real life) and I was trying desperately to find some empathy for this elderly man who had never been very nice to me but was beginning to forget who everyone was. I knew my character like the back of my hand; understood him. Liked him, despite his faults. And I was going to become him tonight and blow everyone away. I got my first line in my head as the house lights went down and the curtain went up.
Afterwards, the audience broke into a rapturous standing ovation. Well, as rapturous as it could be when there were only about eighty of them, but I loved it anyway. I actually felt a little bit emotional, which I reckoned was less about me and more about the fact I’d just spent the last two and a half hours playing a man who suppressed every single difficult feeling he’d ever had. We had a full house, apparently, which Joe assured us almost never happened on opening night. Word had got round, and Alistair had texted to say there was a handful of casting directors in and a good turnout from the press. The play had come together in the end, and with the costumes and the music and the visual effects, I thought we’d created something really special.
As I took my first bow of the night, I spotted Alistair looking pleased and then, a couple of rows back, clapping manically and beaming proudly, my parents.
I blinked, not quite believing it. What were they doing here? I’d mentioned it briefly to my mum on the phone, but I’d never thought they’d come in a million years. This would have required them to book tickets, to arrange taxis (they didn’t do the tube) and for Dad to have kept his diary free, which for some reason was always, always a problem. I felt a little bit teary when I thought about it. And then I felt even worse when, scanning the auditorium, I realised that the person I wanted to be here more than anything wasn’t.
I’d dropped a note through Rebecca’s door yesterday with one of the free tickets we’d been allocated. I’d been holding onto the fact that there’d been some sort of miscommunication, that she’d been thinking about me as much as I’d been thinking about her, but clearly not. This was more galling than I thought it would be, but at least it had made me realise that I needed to move on and that she clearly wasn’t interested. It would be hard, what with her living opposite, but I was just going to throw myself into my acting, like I’d always done. And perhaps, going on tonight, that wouldn’t be so bad?
We took a final bow and filed off backstage to our shared dressing room. I changed into my own clothes and hurried out to the bar, where I was instantly surrounded by the familiar buzz of chatter and post-show excitement, reminding me of my drama-school showcase, when Chad had made a beeline for me and he’d been the agent everyone had wanted and my classmates had watched on jealously. I’d been on a high that night, convinced that it was the start of something huge. But tonight Alistair was here and I knew I felt safer in his hands than I ever had in Chad’s.
I spotted Mum and Dad at a table near the bar. They looked out of place in this loud, slightly raucous bar. Dad looked hot in his too-tight suit and Mum took a sip of her wine and grimaced, as though it was cheap and sharp.
‘This is a surprise,’ I said, pulling up a stool and joining them at the table.
They both put their drinks down. Mum was smiling at me. ‘Well done, Jack. You were brilliant.’
Dad cleared his throat. ‘Yes, an excellent performance, Jack. I must admit, I didn’t know you were this good.’ He pushed a red wine in my direction. ‘Hope this is what you wanted?’
I nodded, drinking a few large mouthfuls, touched by the fact that he hadn’t forgotten me this time, but suppressing the urge to reply to his backhanded compliment about my acting skills.
‘It was nice of you to come,’ I said.
Mum nodded. ‘Is your agent here? Chad, isn’t it?’
‘Actually, I’ve got a new one,’ I replied, looking over my shoulder for Alistair. ‘I should probably go and speak to him, actually. There might be some casting directors in he wants me to meet.’
‘Well, I should think they’ll be very impressed,’ said Dad.
This was single-handedly the nicest thing he’d ever said to me. I actually felt quite choked.
Pulling myself together, I stood up. ‘Will you two be OK here for a bit if I go and mingle?’
‘We’re going to head off soon, anyway,’ said Mum. ‘You go and enjoy yourself.’
I nodded, raising my glass to them. They raised theirs back, the three glasses clinking together.
I couldn’t help smiling to myself as I walked over towards the bar where Alistair was chatting to two women I didn’t recognise.
‘Jack,’ said Alistair, waving me over. ‘There’s some people I want you to meet.’
After an hour or so of schmoozing and talking non-stop and having Champagne pressed into my hands, I looked around the bar, which was emptying out now it was nearly eleven. I’d had lots of congratulations and handshakes from people I didn’t know, and it had been a brilliant night. Everything had exceeded my expectations: the play itself, my parents turning up, Alistair introducing me to some really cool producers who wanted to arrange meetings for the following week. A casting director who worked closely with Sam Mendes making a beeline for me and giving me her card.
I popped to the loo, a bit overwhelmed by it all and wanting a couple of minutes to myself. I checked my phone for the first time that night. My heart thumped hard in my chest when I saw there was a message from Rebecca.
Hi. Sorry I couldn’t make the show. I was planning to come, but my nan’s in hospital. I’ve only just got back. Hope it went well.
I leaned against the sink, re-reading her message. Poor Rebecca. She’d be a mess, what with having to go to the hospital, which was difficult for her at the best of times, although she seemed to have got slightly better with it since visiting Clive. And I had no idea what was wrong with her nan, but if it was something serious, she was going to be devastated. I knew what I had to do.
Walking out to the bar and keeping my head down so as not to get sidetracked, I grabbed my bag and made my way over to Joe and the rest of the cast.
‘I’m off,’ I said.
‘Eh?’ said Joe. ‘You can’t bail on us now.’
‘There’s someone I need to see,’ I replied, feeling breathless. ‘Thanks for everything, guys. See you all tomorrow, yeah?’ I said, backing away.
‘Don’t forget I need you in at four o’clock for notes,’ shouted Joe.
I waved at him to let him know I’d heard him and practically fell out of the bar onto Dean Street, where the air was strangely warm and the sky still not quite black.
