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‘Oh, yes, I have,’ Nessa said, much to Harvey’s blatant delight. ‘On BBC4? What part did you play again?’ She scrunched up her nose as she tried to recall the series.
‘I played the murder victim. A difficult and challenging role to get right, but of course I managed to nail it. I’m nothing if not professional. The director told me I have a bright future playing the dead and dying,’ Harvey boasted without a hint of irony, ‘and those scenes are often pivotal to the plot, I find. If you’re interested, Nessa, perhaps you’ll allow me to talk you through my last role as a firefighter who fell to his death whilst tackling a blazing clock tower. The demands on the actor can be strenuous, but fame and celebrity must be secondary to the sense of pride at having contributed to the whole ensemble.’
Sophie sucked her lips between her teeth to prevent her mouth from twitching as she felt Nessa shaking with an onslaught of barely repressed giggling.
‘Can I offer you ladies a drink? You know, I have some promotional photographs I could autograph for you. One never knows when one might be recognised and it’s prudent to be prepared. Wouldn’t wish to let a fan down. Fame is an onerous burden, but us actors must bear our responsibilities with stoic fortitude.’
Harvey flashed his pearly whites again at a nonplussed Nessa, who’d been rendered temporarily speechless.
‘Erm, thanks, Harvey, but I think we need to go and find our seats.’
‘Toodle-loo, then. Have fun. Maybe we can catch up later?’
Inside the airless auditorium, the noise was incredible. Every perch was occupied; every gilt-framed box had been pressed into service. The crowd was made up of ninety per cent teenage girls and ten per cent concerned parents who’d been unwilling to allow their offspring to attend the concert unchaperoned and who wore expressions of reluctant stoicism.
‘I think you’ve made a friend.’
‘You mean Harvey?’
‘Yes. He’s very attractive, if a little overconfident. I think he might wear coloured contact lenses, too, but I saw the way his eyes lingered on yours. And you already know each other.’
Nessa gifted her best friend with a roll of her eyes as she pushed her way along the third row to take her seat.
‘I’m so excited,’ she squeaked in Sophie’s ear. ‘This is the first time I’ve been in a West End theatre. Do you remember that pantomime we staged in Year Ten? What was it? Oh, yes,Peter Pan, remember? You were a full-blown pirate, and I was a lowly deckhand. We had a blast!’
‘You had a blast, Nessa,’ Sophie corrected her. She’d hated every minute of being on the stage. ‘I’m not blessed with the same bare-faced confidence you are. Never again! But I tell you whowasexcellent and a huge surprise. That girl who played Captain Hook from Year Nine? What was her name again?’
‘Lillian Greenwood?’
‘Yes, I’d never noticed her before. I always thought she was one of those geeks who kept herself to herself and preferred the more cerebral pursuits. Nose always stuck in a literary classic. She certainly never ventured onto the sports field, unlike you, Nessa – the girl who’s won every trophy, medal, and rosette going.’
Nessa giggled. ‘Remember when we made Mr Barringer walk the plank for a laugh at the end of the show?’
‘I do, and I’d be prepared to bet my last pound that the experience will live on in his nightmares until the day he leaves the earth. That was a nasty ankle sprain.’ And the girls doubled over in fits of laughter.
‘I couldn’t do what Noah and Archie do, though,’ said Nessa, indicating the stage in front of them. ‘I couldn’t stand up therein front of all these people and sing my heart out. I’m not sure which is the most terrifying – performing to an arena full of avid, all-forgiving fans or to a more discerning audience at a celebrity wedding where the groom himself is a world-famous musician. Both are gut-wrenchingly scary!’
‘Totally agree. AllIhad to do was deliver my wedding gown creation along with a little piece of my soul, wrapped in tissue paper in a cardboard trunk, and then sit back and await the devastating rejection of my talents, not parade it live in front of a room full of music industry professionals.’ Sophie indulged in an involuntary squirm of sympathy.
‘But your design wasn’t rejected, was it?’
‘No, but for a time I thought it had been. It’s a painful experience that I have no wish to repeat any time soon.’
As the noise reached maximum decibel level, a beanpole-thin guy clutching a clipboard like a shield, decked out in the black uniform of all stage and screen crew, his microphone strapped to his cheek with a Band-Aid, stepped onto the stage and proceeded to ask for quiet.
Immediate silence ensued.
‘Okay, ladies and gents, as you know this is The Razorclaws’ rehearsal gig for the wedding of the decade between Finn Marchant and Lilac Verbois, which will take place up in the Cotswolds in two weeks’ time.’ A huge roar of approval rolled out of the stalls and reverberated around the room. ‘You are about to hear a selection of the band’s bestselling songs and, I’m excited to announce, a ballad that is being debuted this evening, written by their lead singer, Noah Drake!
‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you… The Razorclaws!’
Chapter Twenty Eight
A tsunami of screams roared into the auditorium coupled with whistling and foot-stomping. Sophie exchanged a glance with Nessa, and they joined the throng in leaping from their seats and applauding. A surprise swirl of nausea assaulted Sophie’s throat and chest. Her heart pounded and her stomach muscles clenched with a mixture of excitement and nerves, and something else she was reluctant to name. She attempted to stretch her lips into a smile but failed. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as the crystal-clear notes of a bass guitar seared through the air.
But it was when Noah, her Noah, strode onto the stage, grabbed the microphone from the stand and stared out into the crowd that her knees crumbled from under her. As he launched into a rendition of their most recent hit, she sank down onto the burgundy velvet seat, drawing in huge gulps of oxygen to steady her rampaging emotions, annoyed with her reaction to seeing him up on the stage after four long years apart.
For God’s sake, she had seen him perform with The Razorclaws hundreds of times when they were at school and university. Okay, she didn’t know much about his new material and had had no idea what to expect that evening. But the years rolled back, and he looked exactly the same as when she’d fallen in love with him, with his eyes that sparkled like silver buttons and his quirky personality, not to mention his spiky, honey-blond hair and honed, muscular body.
