missed my coffee machine. Call me sad but I used to polish it every day and stroke its glossiness whenever I used it, just like I’d stroked my first pair of patent leather party shoes.
I kept the party shoes by my bed for weeks.
I’m not sad enough to sleep with my coffee machine.
‘You’re right. The world is my oyster,’ I said, after swallowing the last mouthful of sugary goo.
Beth turned to me. ‘And if you think the grit inside it is the theatre, just remember what an oyster does with grit.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Look on it as a fabulous opportunity. You’ve already met Duncan. He could be great for the theatre and he’s extremely eligible.’
‘Beth, keep with the programme, huh?’ I shook my head but a thought crossed my mind. ‘I bet he looks really hot in a kilt.’
‘Hey, you could save the theatre and bag yourself a Scottish hunk while you’re at it. And if not Duncan, you’re still gonna meet all sorts of other people in TV and business. Remember – Grandee always said something like, “Nothing we experience is wasted,” didn’t he?’
‘Yeah, but an actor would say that. Which reminds me. I’ve decided once the theatre is sorted, I want to get the rest of my life back on track. I was derailed by Warren, remember? I’m planning on going back to college.’
‘Really?’
‘If I can. But this time, I’d like to change my area of study.’
‘To what?’
‘Counselling. I’d like to use drama and role-play to help people rebuild their confidence.’
‘Like you did in Costa Rica?’
‘That kind of thing.’
‘Bloody hell, Chlo! Good for you.’ She gave me a big hug. ‘Good for you.’
She stepped back and passed me a coffee.
As I felt the hot and disappointing instant coffee slide down my gullet, I said, ‘Do you remember that time A-May went on stage with the back of her skirt tucked into her knickers? If only we had a picture of that to auction.’
On Thursday morning, a taxi drew up outside Juniper Cottage to collect me.
It reminded me of the morning, just over a year ago, when Mum had driven me to Heathrow. This time I was only going for three days but, same as last year, Warren didn’t know I was going so couldn’t follow me. Even though our meeting on Tuesday had been civil and his motivation appeared genuine, I simply didn’t trust him; or maybe I didn’t trust myself. What if there was an infinitesimal part of me that might actually fall for his charms again?
It really had been a sneaky way to get to see me. Why hadn’t he asked a colleague to make the first contact?
I had yet to send the surveyor’s reports to him. I’d deliberately held them back on Tuesday – till I had confirmation of the company’s interest. I hadn’t heard another peep out of him since our meeting but that didn’t stop me from flinching every time the phone rang.
How on earth had I ended up like this? Why had I lurched from one dysfunctional relationship to another?
Brooding, handsome, bomb-shot drinking Jonathan had preceded Warren. Jonathan was in his second year at drama school when I was in my first. Jonathan, who had seemed so mature, so self-contained and the perfect antidote to his predecessor – Ben.
Ben, like me, had been in his first year at drama school and was a livewire, a social networker – mad fun to be around. We met in the first week of term and I was drawn to him like a magnet. Lots of actors are confident in a social setting but he had a special type of banter – quick and funny without being hurtful. He’d pull your leg but you wouldn’t mind. And that twinkling smile of his…oh yes, I’d fallen for him on sight. It had taken a few meetings for him to ask me out – and by that I mean three nights on the trot in the Union Bar – but when he did, I thought I’d won the lottery.
It was all whirlwind quick. Once the flirting revved up, and we realised we meant business, our exit from the bar would have rivalled Road Runner. We sprinted all the
I kept the party shoes by my bed for weeks.
I’m not sad enough to sleep with my coffee machine.
‘You’re right. The world is my oyster,’ I said, after swallowing the last mouthful of sugary goo.
Beth turned to me. ‘And if you think the grit inside it is the theatre, just remember what an oyster does with grit.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Look on it as a fabulous opportunity. You’ve already met Duncan. He could be great for the theatre and he’s extremely eligible.’
‘Beth, keep with the programme, huh?’ I shook my head but a thought crossed my mind. ‘I bet he looks really hot in a kilt.’
‘Hey, you could save the theatre and bag yourself a Scottish hunk while you’re at it. And if not Duncan, you’re still gonna meet all sorts of other people in TV and business. Remember – Grandee always said something like, “Nothing we experience is wasted,” didn’t he?’
‘Yeah, but an actor would say that. Which reminds me. I’ve decided once the theatre is sorted, I want to get the rest of my life back on track. I was derailed by Warren, remember? I’m planning on going back to college.’
‘Really?’
‘If I can. But this time, I’d like to change my area of study.’
‘To what?’
‘Counselling. I’d like to use drama and role-play to help people rebuild their confidence.’
‘Like you did in Costa Rica?’
‘That kind of thing.’
‘Bloody hell, Chlo! Good for you.’ She gave me a big hug. ‘Good for you.’
She stepped back and passed me a coffee.
As I felt the hot and disappointing instant coffee slide down my gullet, I said, ‘Do you remember that time A-May went on stage with the back of her skirt tucked into her knickers? If only we had a picture of that to auction.’
On Thursday morning, a taxi drew up outside Juniper Cottage to collect me.
It reminded me of the morning, just over a year ago, when Mum had driven me to Heathrow. This time I was only going for three days but, same as last year, Warren didn’t know I was going so couldn’t follow me. Even though our meeting on Tuesday had been civil and his motivation appeared genuine, I simply didn’t trust him; or maybe I didn’t trust myself. What if there was an infinitesimal part of me that might actually fall for his charms again?
It really had been a sneaky way to get to see me. Why hadn’t he asked a colleague to make the first contact?
I had yet to send the surveyor’s reports to him. I’d deliberately held them back on Tuesday – till I had confirmation of the company’s interest. I hadn’t heard another peep out of him since our meeting but that didn’t stop me from flinching every time the phone rang.
How on earth had I ended up like this? Why had I lurched from one dysfunctional relationship to another?
Brooding, handsome, bomb-shot drinking Jonathan had preceded Warren. Jonathan was in his second year at drama school when I was in my first. Jonathan, who had seemed so mature, so self-contained and the perfect antidote to his predecessor – Ben.
Ben, like me, had been in his first year at drama school and was a livewire, a social networker – mad fun to be around. We met in the first week of term and I was drawn to him like a magnet. Lots of actors are confident in a social setting but he had a special type of banter – quick and funny without being hurtful. He’d pull your leg but you wouldn’t mind. And that twinkling smile of his…oh yes, I’d fallen for him on sight. It had taken a few meetings for him to ask me out – and by that I mean three nights on the trot in the Union Bar – but when he did, I thought I’d won the lottery.
It was all whirlwind quick. Once the flirting revved up, and we realised we meant business, our exit from the bar would have rivalled Road Runner. We sprinted all the
Similar Books
