Summer Season on the Seafront. Katie Ginger

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СКАЧАТЬ she clearly bloody hasn’t.’ Nate tilted his head and pinned the phone to his shoulder then undid the cuffs of his shirt. Taking the phone again he pulled the top over his head and grabbed his own T-shirt, threading through one arm, then the other. He knew he sounded like a complete dick but controlling the panic was proving difficult. Robin’s voice was so loud Nate could hear him even when he moved the phone away to pull the top over his head. Nate sat down and pushed back his dark hair. ‘Has anyone told Emma? I can ring her now. I just don’t want the first thing she hears about this coming from her agent, or worse, some shitty, insensitive reporter knocking on the door.’

      ‘I’ve already called her,’ Robin replied, calmly. ‘I told her I’d deal with it and that everything else remains as you guys agreed. Suffice to say, she went off like a rocket.’

      Nate pinched his temples. ‘What do I do now, Robin? This is going to be all over the net tonight and then in the papers tomorrow. They’re going to think I’m a complete scumbag.’ Nate’s voice cracked slightly. Emma already did, and he hated himself for still caring so much about a woman who hadn’t loved him in years. ‘I’m surprised she’s not taking the opportunity to put it all on me and get out while she can.’

      ‘Think about it, Nate, if the press go digging about in your private life to find out if you’ve done this before, what else might they find? Her affairs could be uncovered. She’s better off letting this die, but she doesn’t want you to come back to the house tonight.’

      ‘What?’ It felt like a punch in his ribs.

      ‘She said she doesn’t want to see you right now. Not until she’s processed what’s happening.’

      He paced around. ‘Processed what’s happening? It was a drunken one-night stand after our marriage was over! She had an affair with one of her co-stars for nine months before I even knew we were in danger.’

      ‘Never mind about that now,’ Robin replied. ‘The paparazzi will already be outside the theatre and you can’t go home so I’ve arranged for you to go somewhere else.’ Nate blew out his cheeks. He felt a stinging in his nose and gritted his teeth, refusing to let his emotions get the better of him. ‘But listen, I’m sure we can still work this to our advantage.’

      ‘How? How can we possibly do that? I look like some shady love rat. Like Hugh bloody Heffner.’ There was no answer for a moment and Nate opened his mouth to speak but then Robin began again.

      ‘I’ve arranged for you to go somewhere and I’ve got a car waiting outside. I’ll pack you some stuff tomorrow and send it on.’

      Nate shook his head. ‘I can’t just leave the show. There’s still three nights left.’

      ‘Your understudy can take over. We’ll say you’ve got pneumonia and you’re recovering. You need to distance yourself from this.’

      ‘Pneumonia? But it’s July.’

      ‘You can still get pneumonia in July. Stop being difficult.’

      Outside his dressing-room door, the theatre came to life again as costumes were collected, props were organised for the next day and people bustled around. ‘I’m not being difficult, but no one’s going to buy it. And I haven’t even got clean pants.’

      ‘What are you, the Queen of bloody Sheba? Just wear the ones you’ve got on now. Turn them inside out or something, I don’t bloody care! And I don’t care if they buy it or not. The story will die quicker if they can’t twist your words.’ Robin sighed heavily. ‘We just need you out of the way for a week or two until they find something else to write about, which they undoubtedly will.’

      ‘So what exactly do you want me to do?’ Nate pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead.

      ‘Get in the car that’s waiting – it’s taking you to stay with an old friend of mine in a little seaside town where the press won’t bother you.’

      Nate moved to the open window and closed it. The stage door was busier than usual, probably stacked full of reporters pushing past the fans who had paid good money to see the show and hoped for a quick photo or autograph with the cast. ‘And where’s that?’ he asked, unconvinced this plan would work.

      ‘Greenley-On-Sea.’

       Chapter 3

      Greenley was always quiet at this time on a Sunday morning. The only people around were fishermen, walking towards the pier ready for the day ahead, their rods and nets slung over one shoulder and a great box of bait carried in the other hand.

      Sarah met Lottie outside the theatre, ready to begin the next rehearsal of The Tempest. ‘Morning,’ she said, forcing the words out of her scratchy throat. Stopping beside Lottie, she took a final glance at the still, blue-green sea. At one corner of the beach, a bright ball of white light threatened to blind her where the sun rose at its own leisurely pace into the sky.

      ‘Hey, you,’ said Lottie, fiddling about trying to unlock the revolving doors. ‘How are you feeling this morning? You were a bit tiddly when you left last night, but then from the sounds of it you had to get a bit drunk to get through your disastrous date.’

      ‘If that’s a nice way of saying I was off my face and talking at a million miles an hour, you’re right.’

      ‘Umm … yes,’ Lottie replied, grinning, her blonde ponytail swishing as she turned her head.

      A low groan escaped Sarah’s mouth and she rubbed her temples. ‘Urgh. I think the nice white wine you bought mixed with the God-awful vinegary stuff I had at the restaurant and caused some sort of chemical reaction. You know, like those volcanoes kids make with vinegar and bicarbonate of soda. My stomach’s all weird and bubbly.’ Right on cue it gurgled loudly and she repressed a burp. Lottie raised her eyebrows as she dropped the keys back in her pocket.

      ‘Was that you?’

      ‘Sorry.’ Sarah placed a hand on her stomach. ‘I feel like I’ve died and been re-animated, or at least my stomach has.’

      ‘Ooh, now there’s a thought. Maybe we should do Frankenstein one day?’ said Lottie, excitedly. ‘Mrs Andrews can be the monster.’ She giggled to herself then turned to Sarah. ‘I don’t know why you didn’t stay over. I’ve got two spare rooms and Sid doesn’t mind.’

      Sarah didn’t know why she hadn’t taken up Lottie’s offer either. She wished she had now. The roundabouts on the taxi ride back to her house had acted like a centrifuge, rattling around the horrible wine and greasy food from the Szechuan Palace with the four Cornettos and two very large glasses of wine she’d consumed at Lottie’s. This morning her mouth felt like a small furry creature had setup home, turned it into a bedsit, then died. Even after a breakfast of Alka Seltzer and half a slice of buttered toast she wasn’t sure she’d make it through the rehearsal. A gentle summer breeze filled her lungs, making her feel marginally better, but then a sheet of used chip paper drifted up and wrapped itself around her ankle. She bent down, picked it up, then put it in the bin. ‘Where is Sid anyway?’

      ‘I left him in bed, snoring his head off.’ Lottie’s face always changed when she spoke about Sid, as if a light turned on somewhere in her soul and shone out like a beacon of pure joy. Sarah had been truly ecstatic when they’d СКАЧАТЬ