‘Felix! You can’t do that.’
‘People do it all the time.’ His voice took on a wheedling tone.
‘No! Don’t bring the towels home.’ You had to be literal with Felix at times.
‘Means we could put something else on the wedding list.’
‘At our age, do you think we need one?’ Not that we had got anywhere near arranging a wedding list. We occasionally referenced having one but never did anything about it. A bit like the wedding.
‘Be a shame though.’ He paused. ‘I fancied one of those space-age Philippe Starck orange-squeezers.’
‘They’re too War of the Worlds. I wouldn’t want one in the kitchen. I’d love one of those teas-made things. We should go for things we’d never buy for ourselves.’
‘Or use!’ said Felix scathingly. ‘You’re not one hundred and three.’
We both laughed.
‘We don’t need a wedding list,’ I said. We had pretty much everything we needed.
‘Of course we do. Isn’t that the whole point of getting married?’ He stopped. ‘Maybe we’d better call it off then.’
Silence filled the airwaves.
‘So how did—’
‘— the presentation went well.’
We interrupted one another.
‘Oh good.’
‘What have you got lined up on Friday?’ Felix paused. ‘Would you mind if I stayed down here another night? Save having to battle through the traffic.’
‘Aw, Felix. I’ve got an early finish on Friday, I thought we could do something together for a change.’
‘I’ll make it up to you.’
‘You’d better. I’ve got to see the IT guy that day. I’ll need cheering up after that.’
Felix burst out laughing. ‘So will he. I hope they’re paying him danger money.’
I kept chuckling to myself at this morning’s email response to my suggestion to Fever Pitch as I rounded up my notes and sketches. There’d been email silence for nearly a week and I’d assumed it marked the end of the on-line conversation, but it seemed I was wrong.
Before I could respond, I was sucked into the day’s work. Jeanie wanted an update of where we were at with all the hairpieces for the corps de ballet and both of us had to prepare for a make-up design meeting for Romeo and Juliet with the Ballet Director and Head of Costume, which meant making sure I had a complete cast list and details of their colouring along with the notes from Costume.
Vince seemed full of beans. One minute he was running to get coffee for everyone, the next offering to redo the rota for the following production in three months’ time, then he would settle at the wig he was making and then dart up to wash a few brushes. The whole time he kept his distance from me.
I took time to grab a coffee and took one into Jeanie’s office.
‘What the hell is the matter with him?’ she asked, eyeing Vince over the rim of her coffee mug with deep suspicion.
‘Seriously?’ I peered over at him, busy texting now. ‘He’s obviously got a hot date tonight.’ Although normally we’d have been subject to all his hopes and fears by now. Vince longed for true love and undying loyalty. A complete romantic.
Jeanie sighed. ‘Who is it this time? I worry about that boy.’ Her fingers rubbed an invisible stain on the side of the china mug. ‘Needs to settle down. He’s getting a bit too old for all this promiscuity.’ She’d been in the business a long time. Even though it was less prevalent these days, too many of her friends had died of Aids in the late eighties.
‘I’ve no idea. In fact, that’s the weird thing, he’s not mentioned anyone recently.’ I cast my mind back over recent conversations. There’d been no clues. ‘Not someone from the orchestra, I know that much.’ Vince had a fondness for percussionists and brass instrument players. Whenever a touring orchestra came, he was sure to find a new friend but they only stayed for a brief while before moving on to the next venue.
I squeezed her arm. ‘We’ve given him the safe sex talk enough times, all we can do is be here to pick up the pieces.’ Both of us wished he could find ‘the one’.
‘Funny he’s not said much about it, if it is a date.’ Jeanie put down her mug and stared thoughtfully over at him. I could tell by his studied inspection of his mobile phone that he knew he was being talked about.
‘Maybe he’s growing up?’ I suggested.
A beat later, we both burst out laughing and Vince looked up, his curiosity antennae instantly tuned and mouthed ‘What?’ across the room.
‘Yeah and I’m going to buy me a pair of unicorns,’ Jeanie responded.
With another fifteen minutes before I had to head downstairs to the IT department, I sneaked over to the computer and quickly logged onto my email. I just wanted to check there hadn’t been any other emails resulting from my virus.
Who was I kidding? I wanted to respond to Redsman’s email. He clearly hadn’t liked my suggestion for a book about Arsenal. Jeanie was still out of sight, so I quickly typed a response.
From: [email protected]
Re: Subject: !!!!!
It could be my dead body we’re talking about. I’m just off to see his royal ITness, the Prince of Darkness, the corporate bod who lives down in the lower ground floor. I’m to be given lessons on the correct use of computers. They weren’t best pleased about the virus.
I’m still a bit confused how it got to you … lots of people here received it. You should see my pile of loo rolls. Think they’re a bunch of comedians. Oh, how I haven’t laughed.
Must go. If you never hear from me again, send in a search party to dig up the basement.
M
P.S. Liverpool will be lucky to win the match this week let alone anything else.
I checked my watch, still a couple of minutes to go. I wandered over to Vince’s cubby hole. The make-up team each had one. It was our workspace and consisted of a shelving area, a long work bench and a chair, along with a small chest of drawers.
‘Hi Vince,’ I said pointedly when he didn’t look up.
‘Oh, hi,’ he said, all smiles and fake bright eyes, as he finally lifted his head, as if he’d had no idea I was there.
I sighed. ‘Will you wish me luck?’
Vince’s mouth pulled down at either corner. ‘Glad it’s you and not me.’
‘Yeah, he’s too bloody good looking for his own good,’ I said dispiritedly.
‘Lordy girly, are we talking about the same man. Good looking?’
‘Yes, don’t you think so?’
‘You need to get some new glasses. He’s not a patch on Felix.’ Vince sounded quite aggrieved.
‘I’m not planning to be unfaithful or anything, I just noticed he was,’ I shrugged, ‘you know, rather easy on the eye.’
‘Average, darling. Average.’ Vince turned up his nose but kept his eyes down, his fingers nimbly plaiting an intricate hairpiece. ‘Unless you