Julia watched him as he ate and something warm inside her unfurled. He was nice she thought. Easy company, a great sense of humour and - nice. She relaxed a little and looked around her.
The restaurant they’d ended up in was buzzing with office workers getting early into the Christmas spirit. To their immediate left was a party of twelve, bedecked in ribbons of tinsel and paper hats and looking red-cheeked with high spirits. A soundtrack of cheesy Christmas hits played in the background. London was well and truly gearing itself up for the festive season.
“I’ve never been so hungry,” Harri said through a mouthful, as Slade’s Merry Xmas Everybody blasted out. “I’m eating like a horse and I’ve lost half a stone already!”
Julia looked at him, at his broad shoulders and well shaped arms with their subtle muscles. “You don’t look as if you need to lose any.”
“I don’t, that’s the problem. Eva’s a bloody tyrant. She’s got me rehearsing five or six hours at a time.” He flexed an impressive bicep and grinned. “Mind, I’ve never been in better shape. Reckon I’m about as fit as I’ve ever been. What about you?”
“Well, I tried to get fitter before all this started and I certainly needed to lose some weight.” Julia picked at a cheesy crust and nibbled.
“No, you didn’t,” Harri interrupted. “I like my women with a bit of flesh on them. Can’t stand Eva’s skinny bits.” He shuddered visibly.
Julia preened a little; she quite liked the idea of being one of Harri’s women. “No, I really needed to lose some. I wasn’t getting any parts.” She looked up at him to see he was watching her closely. “Mine’s a cruel profession. No room for the fatties.”
Harri put his hand on hers. It was slightly greasy from his pizza but she didn’t mind. His dark eyes burned into hers but all he said was, “You’ll do.”
As compliments went, it wasn’t the most effusive Julia had ever received but the warm glow inside her spread and she blushed hotly.
“So, what’s next for you?” Harri picked up his tumbler of water and emptied it in one swallow.
He was a man of hearty appetites Julia thought and, watching him, the question of what he’d be like in bed pinged into her head. Blushing yet more, she tried to concentrate on her answer. “There are - erm - one or two things in the pipeline,” she said carefully.
“Things that bad, eh?”
From anyone else the comment would have grated but Harri’s cheerful sympathy just made her feel better. She nodded. “That bad.”
“I loved you in Still Life.”
Julia smiled. “It was a great production, a great team. But the run was cut short. No money left. And no angel stepped in.”
For a minute Harri thought she was talking literally and then realised what she meant. “Oh, you mean a backer. So, have you really got nothing lined up then?”
“There’s a possibility … but it’s only a slight possibility so I’d like you to keep it under your hat at the moment, that I might get Cabaret.”
Harri sat up, his eyes shone as a grin spread over his face. “Sally Bowles? At the Endcott?”
“Maybe.” She saw his grin widen. He had a lovely smile, she thought, it lit up his entire face and then reached his eyes so that they almost disappeared. Such a charming man. She shook out any carnal thoughts which persisted in pre-occupying her, and got back to the more mundane subject of her career. “They saw I was going to be in this and mentioned they might audition me.”
“So you’ve got a lot riding on Who Dares Dances then?”
Julia shrugged. “Yes, I suppose so.” She finished her glass of wine, she shouldn’t drink midweek really, it stopped her from sleeping but she really needed to unwind after the latest session with Jan.
“Another?” Harri asked and, at her nod, summoned the waitress. “A house red and I’ll have a Becks please,” he said when the girl came over.
“Are you, are you Harri Morgan?” The girl, a younger waitress than the one who had served their meal, gasped and pushed back her felt reindeer antlers. “Oh my God, oh my God! I can’t believe it. Is it really you?”
“I was the last time I looked,” Harri said cheerfully.
“Could I … would you mind, could I have your autograph? I love Red Pepper. Oh I know I’m too old for it,” she chattered on as Harri took note of her tinselled name badge and signed a paper napkin for her, “but my younger sister got me into it and now I always watch it when I’m on lates.” She giggled and blushed bright red.
Julia smiled to herself, and thought the attraction of the programme probably wasn’t just how to learn to use sticky backed plastic.
“There you go then,” Harri handed over the serviette. “Would you like me to do one for your sister too?”
“Oh, would you? Thank you!”
Harri reached for another napkin. “What’s her name?”
“Debs,” the waitress squealed. “Wait ‘til I tell her who’s been in!” She turned to Julia: “Course, we get loads of celebs in here, it being so near the TV studios and everything but Harri’s the only one whose autograph I’ve wanted.” She did a double take and looked at Julia more closely. “Oh hell, you’re, you’re -”
“Julia Cooper,” Julia supplied.
The waitress looked from one to the other. “You’re both doing Who Dares Dances aren’t you?”
“That’s right.” Harri, his voice even and controlled, handed over the other serviette. “And that would be a Becks and a glass of house red please, Abi.”
The waitress took another long look at both of them and Julia wondered what was going through her mind. Then she took the hint, nodded and went off to get their drinks.
Julia giggled slightly. This sort of fame was new to her. Apart from a few hardy souls who waited at the stage door for her, she could get through ordinary life unencumbered by such encounters. She was intrigued by how Harri had handled it. “Does that happen often to you?”
Harri raised his dark eyebrows and grimaced. “Not too much when I’m not expecting it, like tonight. It’s different if you’re visiting somewhere, a school or a lifeboat station. Then you get yourself geared up for it.”
“Do you mind?”
He frowned. “No, comes with the territory, doesn’t it? It doesn’t get to me unless they get a bit over the top. One night a girl sat down at the table with us. Wouldn’t have minded but it was a family meal out for my mam’s birthday, see.” He winced. “Not the most tactful thing to do.”
Julia laughed in sympathy and agreed. She lapsed into silence as Abi returned and, with infinite care, served their drinks and left. Then she asked him “So what’s in this for you? Who Dares Dances, I mean.”
Harri glanced at her over the rim of his bottle, took a long gulp, considered her question and finally answered. “What do children’s TV presenters do when they’re too old to jump out of helicopters and make pencil pots out of loo rolls?”
Julia giggled again. “I don’t know.”
“God, they end up presenting naff ghost hunting shows or sail around the Med on their yacht or disappear onto a digital radio station.”
“And none of that is for you?”
Harri shook his head. “No,” he said. “I know what I don’t want but I’m thirty two next year, I’m getting a bit past it for kids’ TV. So what do I do next?”
Julia