Miss Wrong and Mr Right(25)

‘Just a small americano,’ I said to the poor chap.

‘Hey Nat. I’m all in blue, but you look blue,’ she said giving me a hug.

‘I didn’t sleep all that well,’ I explained.

‘Don’t be worried about today… it’s gonna be great,’ she said. The barista handed over a huge coffee and she peered over her glasses, giving it the once over. I realised I had been obsessing over Benjamin when there were far more exciting things happening. Why was I putting so much emphasis on him and our dysfunctional relationship?

Nicky pronounced herself satisfied with the coffee. I grabbed my americano, and we made our way to the theatre. I stopped for a moment outside the Old Library. A skip was being lowered by the kerb, and a group of guys in hard hats were filing in through a gap in the faded tarpaulin covering the building. I tried to see inside.

‘Honey, that will keep,’ said Nicky. She pointed across the road. ‘The Raven Street Theatre is the place to be right now.’

Outside the main entrance a small group of press stood huddled, and slightly apart were some die-hard Ryan Harrison fans. They consisted of teenage girls, a couple of greasy old men, and a thin camp guy leaning onto the handles of a wheelchair in which a small blonde girl sat. They moved to one side to let us in.

‘What time does Ryan arrive?’ asked the thin guy.

‘Dunno. I’m just the cleaning lady,’ lied Nicky pulling open the door.

Beside the thin guy with the wheelchair, a sweet little girl, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, was waiting with her mother. Her mother, who was rather buxom and bursting out of a short red dress a few sizes too small, grabbed my arm saying,

‘Beffany ‘as got a cuddly toy fer Ryan ‘arrison…’ She nudged Bethany, who held out a small stuffed bear cradling a heart. Bethany smiled with a tooth gapped smile.

‘Okay, I’ll see he gets it,’ I said, taking it.

‘Thank you,’ grinned Bethany sweetly. I went inside where Nicky was waiting.

‘Nat, honey. Don’t engage with the crazies,’ she said.

‘I know, but she was so sweet.’

‘It’s eight thirty on a weekday and she’s stood in Soho. What about school?’

‘She could be on the way to school?’ I said.

‘Trust me, they’re crazy, like the rest of them.’

‘But look, that guy has brought his friend in the wheelchair, she’s clutching her autograph book,’ I said.

Nicky peered through the glass door. She rolled her eyes.

‘That’s the oldest trick in the book, bring the friend in a wheelchair…’

‘Nicky!’

‘I’ve met Bruce Springsteen four times. You know how? Thanks to Connie Bouvier…’

‘Who’s Connie Bouvier?’ I asked.

‘A girl from high school who was in a wheelchair. We stalked Bruce on his Born in the USA tour… Even managed to get into his dressing room. No one ever questioned us when I was pushing Connie in her wheelchair. All fans are crazy, Nat. Remember that.’

I looked down at the cute little cuddly toy bear, and followed her up the stairs.





We were meeting at eight thirty in the rehearsal room on the fourth floor. It’s large and bare with high ceilings. The parquet floor glistened under the fluorescent strip lights, and the row of windows along one wall was painted black.

Byron, the stage manager, was adjusting a big circle of folding chairs which had been set up in the middle of the room. She nodded hello to us. Her mousy waist-length hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had a ZZ Top t-shirt tucked neatly into her high-waisted stonewashed jeans. We were lucky to have Byron working on Macbeth. She’s a no-nonsense New Zealander who has worked in every theatre in the West End.

Xander was in the corner setting up a tea urn on a table with plastic cups, tea bags, and instant coffee. He came over and showed off a tartan waistcoat he was wearing in honour of the occasion. Craig, the director, was next to arrive. He’s a short, dark, rather intense-looking guy, but he has a wicked sense of humour, and when he laughs, which is often, his whole face comes alive. He’s directed loads of our plays over the years and is, like Byron, one of the best.

Byron stationed herself by the door as the actors started to arrive. They drifted in, saying hello, and made a beeline for the tea urn, talking in small groups. When Ryan came in, the atmosphere in the room changed, and became a bit heightened. He was wearing a grey tracksuit and carrying a backpack. Byron shook his hand and started to talk to him.

‘Awww. He looks really scared,’ said Xander.

‘You never said he was so short!’ added Craig.