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Nelly chuckled.
‘She’s a supermodel,’ Lockwood informed me. ‘That’s her on his left. The beautiful blonde one who looks just like him.’
I studied her. Yep, she was beautiful. I hadn’t seen her for about fifteen years, I guess. Wow, and she would have been about ten then. She was a pretty girl … so she grew up and became a model.
‘They have huge followings,’ Lockwood continued, interrupting my thoughts.
‘If I can get the photo, I’ll tag them and then they’ll remember me,’ Nelly said, still developing her plan.
We heard the lines which meant the scene was coming to an end and we all scattered. The applause was thundering, and not long after we had to head to the stage for final bows. Heath got an amazing response. My heart could have burst with happiness for him; it was going to be a great weekend.
We always had an after-party on the last night, and the producers had booked out a very cool bar just around the corner for the cast, crew and VIPs. Everyone made their way there after they finished getting changed or doing whatever they had to do. When Heath and I arrived hand in hand, nearly everyone was there. We were all so pumped; it had been a great short season. Heath went to get us both a drink – I always had a champagne cocktail at the end of every production and traditions were important! I waved to Nelly from afar—she was chatting up one of the bar guys—shameless.
I saw people looking in my direction; most of them knew me and I wasn’t the star of this show so no reason to be looking at me. Confused I turned around to find that Isabella Linton was standing just behind me talking to our director. Wow, she was something else, nothing like I remembered her. She was glowing, tall, and wearing this sophisticated sparkling dress that showed a lot of her lightly tanned skin, especially a lot of her chest. Someone must have gotten an invitation to them after spotting them in the crowd or perhaps the marketing team had that in hand weeks ago. I couldn’t spot the other woman that was sitting next to Edgar in the theatre, probably his girlfriend … I wondered if she came along.
And then the director got pulled away and Isabella turned to me because I was the closest person to her.
‘Hello,’ she said, ‘you were wonderful tonight.’ Her teeth were so white and her eyes such a pale green. Nelly was right, the Lintons were shiny.
I almost laughed because it was such a sweet thing to say especially since my role was nothing; I wondered if she said that to everyone.
‘Thank you,’ I said, looking up at her, even with my heels on. ‘Catherine Earnshaw’ I said, offering my hand. ‘We’re neighbours on the moors, I believe.’
‘Really!’ She shook my hand but didn’t offer her name – that’s confidence. I was tempted to say that I hadn’t caught her name but checked my bitchiness just in time.
‘So, are you a regular theatre-goer?’ I asked, raising my voice over the din. She leant in closer to talk with me and shrugged.
‘My brother, Edgar, is a sponge for all things stage and screen, he’s always looking for ideas, talent, different mediums to stimulate him,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘But I was very happy to come along to this performance. I saw you walk in with Heath, he was wonderful, wasn’t he?’
‘He was,’ I nodded. ‘He’s amazing.’
Awkward pause.
I struggled to think of some small talk that didn’t seem too intimate or too lame like, ‘so you’re a model?’ or‘any exciting projects coming for you’ or ‘do you still go home to the moors?’ Too try-hard, too stalker? I went to plan B – trying to plan my exit because the whole thing was so uncomfortable. But then Heath returned with our drinks and the two of them locked eyes.
‘Hello, I’m Isabella Linton, and you were spectacular tonight,’ she said.
Right, so she’ll give her name to Heath so he knows it. Grrr.
‘Thank you,’ Heath said, with a smile and a nod, which said to me her thoughts weren’t really important to him. Bless him. He handed me my champagne cocktail and turned his attention back to Isabella.
‘Can I get you a drink or this glass of red, and I’ll get another?’ Heath asked her, offering his. So chivalrous. She won’t drink red wine, look at those white teeth! Sure enough, she was just about to respond when Edgar Linton appeared at her side with two glasses of champagne and handed her one.
Heath and I were now standing talking with our moors ‘neighbours’, Edgar and Isabella Linton; it was all a bit surreal. I felt like we were street urchins next to them. We were both dark and casual, they were light and shiny. Heath and I had bar-hopping clothes on, but Edgar was in a very expensive suit and Isabella in a cocktail dress that defined glamourous. Aagggh.
I could see people taking shots of us on their phone cameras – really? Secretly I was thinking‘fantastic’,I hope they put them online right now, the more exposure for our careers the better. I’ve got to get my act together – for God’s sake, I’m clever, funny and talented, I can make conversation.
‘Good of you to come tonight, did you enjoy the play?’ I asked Edgar.Yeah, look at that, genius, I did it – formed a sentence!I glanced at Heath who was nonchalance personified. He was subtly looking around the room to work out where the exits were so he could escape sooner rather than later – I knew all his moves.
‘It was great, I last saw that play done in New York about five years ago,’ Edgar said. ‘But you owned the stage tonight,’ he said to Heath and offered his hand in a sort of introduction and compliment.
‘Thanks,’ Heath shook his hand. ‘Good to see you both here,’ he said, looking from one to the other. I wasn’t even sure if Heath knew or cared who they were.
‘On your way to a theatre award for that performance,’ Edgar said, continuing with the praise. ‘Thought about going into film? Widening your audience and profile?’
My beautiful guy, Heath, didn’t care about any of that. He didn’t want fame; he wanted great reviews and respect. He already had that, but wanted to win a Laurence Olivier Award and a London Critics' Circle Theatre Award. Me, I’ll take a BAFTA and an Academy Award, thanks.
‘Can’t say I’ve given it much thought,’ Heath said.
