EPISODE EIGHTY-EIGHT
Dead on the stroke of eight Nigel marched noisily into the church hall,
causing the rehearsal cast to lose
concentration before reaching the end of the first act. Jackie, especially, lost concentration and
had to be prompted several times. The
director scowled and scribbled furiously in his notebook.
Act One limped to a close, followed by a short embarrassed silence. Then
Jackie introduced her fiancé and announced apologetically that he was
visiting the rehearsal because it was her birthday. The director sighed petulantly before huffily
mentioning that it was his intention to carry straight on with the rehearsal,
so would they all please mind saving the birthday celebration and the cake until
afterwards. The cast nodded gloomily and
set up for the next act.
Jackie hurried over the Nigel and gave his hand a squeeze. ‘I’m sorry, darling. I know you want to get away.’
Nigel’s eyes darted in the leading man’s direction. ‘I suppose I don’t mind waiting now I’m
here.’
‘But you’ll see the end of the play. I
don’t want to spoil the opening night for you.’
‘No fear of that,’ Nigel replied, rather cryptically.
When rehearsals continued, Nigel laughed uproariously, but only it seemed whenever
his fiancée had a funny line. He stared
stonily at Arnold, the leading man, and didn’t crack his face
once. As soon as the play ended,
Arnold tilted his head in Nigel’s direction and said to
Jackie, loudly for all to hear: ‘We can tell who’s got friends in tonight.’
In the pub later, Nigel bought drinks for everyone. It was a hefty round, but he felt a need to
impress, especially in front of Arnold. And the
leading man, he noticed, was overly tactile, mostly with Jackie.
The director asked Nigel what he thought of the rehearsal. Nigel looked towards Jackie, wondering
whether he ought to be diplomatic. Then
he glanced at Arnold, and thought about speaking his mind. And, when he saw the leading man touching his
fiancée on the hand, he chose the latter option.
‘I think,’ he boomed, pausing for effect and claiming the attention of the
assembled company, ‘that it seemed unnatural, the way the actors behaved.’
The director felt a flush rising in his face.
‘Could you elaborate?’
‘The acting was – how shall I put it? – exaggerated. Unreal.’
In spite of remaining outwardly calm, the director felt cold waves of hatred as
he stared at Nigel. ‘But it’s a
naturalistic play.’
Nigel nodded in agreement, and there was a triumphant gleam in his eye.
‘Let me get this straight,’ the director went on, his voice several degrees
colder now. ‘Are you saying it was performed in the wrong style?’
Nigel chuckled. ‘Oh, I don’t know
anything about styles. ‘It made me laugh
in places. It just didn’t seem very
real. But then I don’t know much about
the theatre.’ He raised his glass at
Jackie. ‘Cheers, darling! Happy
birthday!’
*
After reading Simon and Thomas a bedtime story,
Dave returned to the kitchen and found Mary sitting at the kitchen
table, staring into space. He sat
opposite her and drummed his fingers on the table. Once he had her attention, he smiled.
‘Have you forgotten? It’s your favourite
TV show tonight. Desperate Housewives.’
Mary pulled a face. ‘You’re looking at
one.’
‘Hey, come on! He didn’t seem that bad
to me.’
‘How can you say that? Every time he
opened his mouth, he...’ She stopped and
shuddered.
Dave smiled thinly and shrugged. ‘Okay.
He proved he was an ace tosser. But he
didn’t do or say anything to make us think he might harm you or the kids.’
‘He really scares me. God! How can you be so insensitive? Couldn’t you see what he was up to?’
‘Yeah, sure, he was playing mind games.
But that’s him, isn’t it? I
really don’t think he meant anything by it.’
Mary shook her head forcefully. ‘He’s up to something. I know
he is.’
‘But why would he be? He’s got a
relationship with someone in the States.
And why, after all this time, would he want to come back and...and what? It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘With Ronnie it’s a power thing. And
when the court ordered him to keep away from us, he lost that power. I think it’s been festering in him ever
since.’
Dave laughed nervously. ‘Well, if you’re
that worried about it, why not call the police?’
Mary sighed with frustration. ‘If you don’t believe me, what chance do I
have with the police?’
‘It’s not that I don’t believe you.’
‘But you think I’m exaggerating.’
Dave rubbed at his forehead. ‘Not, but I
know where this is leading. I’ve signed
that contract, Mary. If I don’t honour
it, they’ll sue me. It’s as simple as that.’
Mary sighed deeply. ‘I know. It’s just I’m scared. When we get home after half term, I’ll be worried sick. I know I will.’
Dave took her hand. ‘Look, Ronnie told
us he’s staying in Southend. He’s got
family there. He won’t want to travel here
that often.’
‘Not at all if I can help it.’
‘Okay. We’ll have a great time next week.
And when you get back here, I’ll
phone you every night. You’ll be fine. Just do as I suggested. Leave the answerphone on permanently and
monitor the calls.’
‘Great life I’m going to have.’
‘A temporary measure. Until I get home.’
Suddenly, without warning, Mary’s mood lifted.
She giggled and gave Dave a mock punch on the jaw. ‘What could you do to protect me against
Ronnie? You’ll have to go to the gym
every day when you’re in Blackpool. Build up
those muscles.’
‘Good idea. Keep me out of mischief and
chorus girls.’
‘You’d better not.’
He giggled mischievously and she knew she could trust him. He glanced at his watch.
‘It’s gone half-nine. I can just about afford a decent bottle of wine. Fancy a few glasses with some of those posh
crisps while we watch the next episode?’
‘I could kill for a glass of wine.’
‘Steady on.’
‘And there’s no saying what I wouldn’t do for a bag of those special crisps.’
Dave grinned at her. ‘Looks like my luck
might be in then.’ He rose and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. ‘I’ll be a few minutes. I’ll go up to the little Tesco’s in
Southborough.’
As soon as he was gone, the telephone rang.
Mary was expecting a call from her mother, and dashed into the hall to
answer it before it woke the children.
But as soon as she picked up the receiver, a cold tingling sensation ran
down her back.
‘Hello? Who is this?’
Silence. She tried to speak again, but her voice caught in her throat. She could tell someone was listening at the
other end, getting a kick out of her fear.
She wanted to ask if it was Ronnie. That
truly evil bastard. But she knew
he’d left the house less than an hour ago, so it was unlikely he’d be back at
Southend. Unless he was ringing from his
mobile. She pressed the receiver close
to her ear, listening for any background noises. But there was nothing. Just the silence. She slammed the phone down and
burst into tears. She stood in the hall
for a moment, shivering and sobbing, trying to compose herself. Once she had recovered, she knew she had to
dial 1471 to trace the number. She
thought the person would know enough to invalidate the trace by dialling 141,
but it was worth a try. She was about to
pick up the phone when it rang, making her jump. She hesitated, then grabbed the receiver
angrily and hissed into the mouthpiece:
‘Who is this?’
It was her mother.
‘Have I called at a bad time, dear?’
IN EPISODE EIGHTY-NINE
Another black day for Nigel’s romance, and Bamber pressures Donald into a
commitment he’s not happy about.