‘We just saw Tuppence Halfpenny,’ said the first goody bag girl excitedly.
‘The one in the pink lace dress?’ I asked.
‘Yes, she’s like the British Dita Von Teese,’ said the second. ‘I’ve just started doing a burlesque course and…’
‘Did you see? I think she had on real diamonds,’ interrupted the first. A couple more people approached the table.
‘We’re not paying you to stand here and gossip,’ I snapped. I went out onto the street where Nicky was standing behind a little lectern. Under her glare, people were queuing up on the red carpet, flashing their teeth and invitations. The crowd behind was still chanting ‘RY-AN RY-AN RY-AN…’
‘Hi Nat, everything okay?’ asked Nicky.
‘I just want to check we invited someone called Tuppence Halfpenny?’ I asked.
‘Yeah, the photographers went mad when she arrived. She’s very hot right now, she’s like the British…’
‘Dita Von Teese, yes,’ I said.
‘Is there a problem? She’s getting a ton of press – especially London press.’
‘No, it’s fine. And the guy she was with?’
‘Jamie um, Dyson?’
‘Dawson.’
‘Yes, Jamie Dawson.’
‘And he was her plus one?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ said Nicky. ‘Do you know him?’
‘Me? No, um just doing a head count…’ I lied.
Nicky narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you okay Nat? You’ve gone very pale.’
‘I’m fine. Give me a buzz when everyone’s in,’ I said. I went back inside, past the goody bag girls, and took the stairs two at a time up to my office.
I closed the door and leant against it for a minute. My legs were shaking. I grabbed my handbag, pushed down the bar of the fire door in the corner of my office, and went out onto a now-defunct fire escape. The platform remained, but the metal stairs leading five storeys down to the street below had been neatly clipped off during the renovations. I climbed the set of stairs they hadn’t removed, and stepped up onto the flat roof of the theatre. I leant against the huge chimney stack and took some deep breaths.
Jamie looked great. So many feelings were surging through me… like my past had caught up with me. Jamie and I never finished our conversation that day, the day he walked away from me outside my parents’ house.
It was like his question still hung in the air after all these years…
Wedding or nothing?
What would I say if we carried on the conversation today? Wedding? Nothing? I had to admit things had changed. Jamie was still gorgeous, and he’d appreciated in value over the years. When I was nineteen it was easy to meet a guy like him. Now I’m almost thirty-five, and men of his calibre are never single. And if they are, they’re snapped up, just as fast as a house in a desirable area.
Wedding or nothing?
Of course, it wouldn’t be ‘wedding’, but would it be ‘nothing’? I remembered how he’d made me laugh, just how good we were together. I shook those thoughts away. I was with Benjamin. I had the career and life I’d always dreamed of. I was just feeling the stupid jitters after seeing an ex for the first time in fifteen years.
There was a rumble of thunder and a large raindrop burst on my bare arm, then another on the back of my neck. There was a few seconds’ pause and then the rain came splattering down on the flat asphalt roof. I yelped and ran back to the steps and down to the fire door – which was shut. I had forgotten to wedge it open, and there was no handle on the outside!
‘NO!’ I cried feeling uselessly at the edges of the door. Rain was pouring down, soaking my hair and large drops were clinging onto my bare shoulders. I grabbed my mobile and called Nicky, it rang once and then my phone gave three bleeps and the battery died.
‘NOOOOO!’ I shouted staring at the blank screen. I put my handbag above my head and hammered on the fire door. The rain cranked up a notch, roaring as it came down on the buildings packed close around me. I banged on the door again and shouted. The beautiful green dress was now sticking to my thighs. I dashed up the steps and back onto the roof.
Raindrops had rapidly pooled like patches of mercury on the smooth asphalt, reflecting the pink and blue neon signs from the bar next door. I dashed across the roof, trying not to slip, and leant over the edge to yell down to Nicky. The rain fell in sheets to the road below, which had rapidly emptied, save for a police van, the row of crash barriers, and a group of die-hard Ryan Harrison fans. The rain was hitting the road so hard, the tarmac was a pale blur. I couldn’t see Nicky on the red carpet, she must have moved inside, and people were hurrying into the theatre under umbrellas.