All he wanted to do was to get on and make a start. It was dark in the wings of the theater, he was nervous and, to make matters worse, a pair of arms slid around his waist and a whispered "Ready?” reached his ears. Not daring to speak, he turned his head sideways and nodded once firmly, as he did so a gloved hand reached up and caressed his cheek and then the cue and he was on, into the bright lights of the stage where nothing else mattered except the audience and the words of his lines springing to his lips.
As the applause rang out at the end of the second act and the cast held hands to take their bow Greg was aware of being totally drained and exhilarated at the same time, this was the first play in which he had ever taken part and taking a bow in front of an enthusiastic audience was, he imagined, rather like a near death experience, he was seeing himself looking down from above at his friends in the cast and the audience who had paid to see them perform. A gentle squeeze on his hand brought him back down to earth and he turned to see Andi smiling at him and, with a slight tilt of her head, motion him forward to take his solo bow. As he did so some members of the audience stood and then others until the floor of the theater was full of applauding patrons. Overwhelmed Greg turned to his fellow cast members who were smiling at him, he reached for Andi’s hand and with his free hand beckoned the rest of the cast forward.
“They had not rehearsed for this,” he thought as they took the final bow, “but I’ll take it,”
The curtains drew to a close.
“Well done everybody, that was an excellent performance for a first night, not perfect,” grinned Joyce as the director marched on stage in jeans and black t-shirt with her ever-present clipboard glued to her hand, “And I will have notes for you but I’ll email them later, for now go and have a drink and relax.”
Greg looked about him at the cast and stage crew milling about and let out a deep whoosh of breath in an effort to release the tension, as he did so he realised he was still holding Andi’s hand and he looked into her brown eyes, the smile of delight still on her face and for the first time that evening he allowed himself to take her in. She looked exquisite, sparkling eyes, high cheekbones, a beautiful neck with her breasts accentuated by the empire line style she was wearing. Everyone was giving everyone else congratulatory hugs and Andi drew him in, hugging him to her and then leaning back in the embrace to look at him.
“Are you talking to me now it’s over?” she laughed.
Embarrassed Greg pushed his hair off his forehead. “I am so sorry, I had no idea I would be so nervous, I hope I was not too rude.”
“You were very rude, completely in a world of your own, I don’t often get ignored in that manner by men!” Andi’s response belied the expression on her face.
“If you are like that tomorrow, there will be no more hugs in the wings,” and with that she moved her hips against Greg and gave him a brushed kiss on the lips.
“Oh, and by the way,” she said, “That was a brilliant performance.”
“Why thank you, ma’am,” said Greg who was beginning to enjoy the embrace.
Friends they had been since they had joined the amateur dramatic society at the same time and then subsequently auditioned and been picked to play opposite each other in the play. But, other than a rather chaste stage kiss, nothing untoward had happened, other than the fact that during rehearsals he was aware she filled a pair of jeans and a sweater very nicely. But she was married and her husband was playing a minor role so Greg had played it strictly by the book and worked hard at learning his lines, learning his moves and then interpreting his part.
But now the relief of having the first night over, not feeling as tightly wound as a steel spring and having her arms round him while gazing into his eyes was just beginning to have an effect and Greg was further aware that, with a slightly more intentional movement of her hips in her light muslin dress, that she was aware of what was happening too.
Keeping hold of his hands, she stepped back glanced down quickly and then looked back into his eyes.
“Are you coming for something to eat?”
Greg hesitated, torn, he had a girl he really liked in his arms, asking him to join her, he knew that the cast had after show gatherings planned for the week they were performing. He was also aware that a number of the cast were taking time off so they could enjoy both the performing and the socializing afterwards without worrying about work, but for Greg, the next day was work and he had clients to please.
As the expressions of regret were beginning to form, he found himself being clapped on the back by the director.
“A brilliant job” she beamed at him, “I have never seen a first-timer act like that before, I simply don’t know how you do the quiver in the legs when you were playing the ‘stress scene’ but you captured it beautifully. However, I do have a few notes for you, are you coming for something to eat, we could go over them in the restaurant, it won’t take long I promise you?”
At this, with a laugh, Greg capitulated looking at the both of them and making a note to himself that should he ever take part in this sort of madcap adventure again, he would take time off. But right now the adrenalin was beginning to wear off, he was starting to feel hunger pangs and he was with people whose company he was thoroughly enjoying. Added to which the thought of a reheated meal in a lonely apartment was not at all appealing.
“Screw the clients,” he thought, I’ll make it up to them later.”
It took Greg time to get off stage as cast and stage crew alike were queuing up to congratulate him and by the time he got back to the dressing room the perspiration had dried under his costume and he felt cold and tired. But the thought of Andi’s smile and food to eat cheered him and he headed towards the shower feeling better than he had for weeks.
The restaurant was just across the road from the theatre and dressed in jeans and crew necked sweater, Greg made his way through the front door to be hit by a wave of warmth and noise as the cast, their friends and family re-lived the evening’s performance. Making his way to the bar he was hailed by Andi and her husband Peter.
Greg had not had a lot to do with Peter, they had shared no scenes together in the production, so it had been a quick ‘hi’ and then Greg had gone to rehearse with Andi and Peter gone to do his thing with other members of the cast. Like Greg, Peter was in jeans but Andi was in a little black number, wearing high heels that did to her butt what shoe designers had always intended high-heeled shoes to do. The dress was well cut and moved with her hips as she moved towards him. Greg was expecting a couple of air kisses but Andi had different ideas, putting her arms on his shoulders, she pulled him towards her and kissed him gently on the lips, he could feel the moisture of her lips and the lipstick and the pressure of her hips and breasts.
“I’m glad you came, I thought you might cry off,” she husked in his ear.
Before he could respond she took him by the hand and pulled him towards the throng at the bar.
“Pete’s in the chair,” she smiled, “what’s your poison?”
“Glass of red wine thanks” said Greg feeling slightly guilty at disturbing Pete who, before being prodded by his wife, was happily nursing a pint and making eyes and conversation about his epic ten line role with one of the female stage crew.
Pete, however, obviously knew better than to argue and also knew the stagehand well enough to ask her to look after his pint as he turned towards the bar to do his duty.
Greg desperately wanted to talk to Andi again but before he could do so, he was tapped on the arm by another female bearing a clipboard on which was a list of names.
“Greg, you are not on the list,” she shouted at him above the hubbub.
“Oh hi Grace, is that a problem?” Grace looked, not entirely sympathetically, at him as she cast around at the throng.
“You should have booked and I don’t know if there is enough room now.”
Greg looked around him and realised, with some alarm that the reheated meal at home was again beginning to look a distinct possibility when Andi hooked an arm in his and leaned towards Grace.
“He can share our table,” she said looking at her husband’s back as he retrieved a large glass of red wine from the barmaid. “There’s only three of us presently and, as Joyce is the third and she wants to give Greg his notes before he goes home tonight, I don’t think you’d be wise to kick him out this evening.”
Grace looked briefly as if she was about to argue but then shrugged her shoulders and wandered off in search of new targets.
“That woman!” exclaimed Andi, as she took the glass of wine from her husband and handed it to Greg.
“You give the best performance known to this society for years and she still has to have the last word, you know what she needs…?”
“Should I answer that?” Greg grinned. But before Andi could respond Joyce had joined them and Andi, disentangling her husband from the stagehand, led the three of them to the reserved table. The table was set against a wall, with a banquette running along the wall and two chairs opposite.
“May I suggest,” said Andi, “That I sit next to Greg, Joyce sits opposite him so she can give him his notes and Pete sits next Joyce” and before anyone could argue, she slipped in and along the banquette and made herself comfortable, before patting the seat beside her as an indication for Greg to join her. A waiter pushed the table tight into them and took their order.
The restaurant was packed, the tables close together; sweating waiters made their way around the noisy throng taking orders and serving more drinks and while Greg and the others waited for their food, Joyce gave Greg his notes. Truth to tell there were not many, a masking here and a dropped line there. Much to his chagrin and to Andi’s amusement, Joyce spent as much time on Pete’s ten lines as she did on Greg’s whole performance but even Andi did not escape unscathed as Joyce pronounced that she would like to see a little more passion and fire in the love scene.
“But Joyce,” she pouted, “I play a woman in Regency England, I would not throw myself at him,” as she looked meaningfully at Greg’.
“You would if you knew there was every likelihood of him not coming back… and my dear,” Joyce paused, “to put it crudely, if you don’t show him what’s on offer, then there is every possibility he is not coming back. He lives 200 miles away and in those days it would take 10 days to walk, five days by horse if you were lucky and that’s just to get there, to say nothing of the return journey. So you have to seize the day and, in this play, be seen to act as if you were seizing the day.”
Pete was enjoying his wife’s discomfiture and he was beginning to slur when he commented “Perhaps, my dear, you are not quite as talented an actress as you thought you were.”
Greg, aware of the tension, thought he was about to witness a domestic row but at precisely that moment their food arrived and peace was restored. All had ordered pizza except for Andi who had placed in front of her, a risotto.
As Greg tucked into his pizza he was very aware of Andi’s thigh against his. At first he thought it was an accident, but when he was gentleman enough to move slightly to ease the pressure the leg followed. He then decided he had had enough of being the gentleman and started to return the pressure. As he did so he was conscious that the conversation had returned to development of the love scene.
Andi toyed with her risotto then looked at her husband and innocently remarked. “I may not be as talented as Greg – some people are naturals – but I always work hard at what I do and it would seem that I need to work even harder in the future, would you not agree husband dear?”
As she was looking at her husband Greg felt her hand on his thigh and this time it was definitely no accident. The touch was firm and knowing but there was tension in the air and Greg knew Andi was waiting for a response from Peter.
“Seeing as I am such a crap actor,” he said looking at both Joyce and Andi, “I’ll help backstage in future, you go on with the acting and I’ll make things work OK? So you do what you like sweethearts.”
The word sweethearts had come out with some venom as he lifted his glass to toast the two women and the new arrangement and after a deep swig of his beer, went back to work on his pizza.
“Well,” said Andi, “I guess we know where we stand, ”she glanced at Greg and then looked towards another table and stared directly at the young stagehand who had been stealing glances at them.