Page 100 of Best Supporting Actor

Henry grunted. “I suggest you start with Act Two, Scene Four.”

“Right,” Freddie said, tucking her phone away, “I’ve got you on a train at 8:13 to King’s Cross. It’s an open return, so you’d better be walking in this bloody door by six.”

“I will, and hopefully sooner.” Henry looked at Tag again, skewering him with those bright eyes of his. “I know this is unsettling, Tag, but try to keep your head in the game. Whatever happens today,Let Us Go Backwill open tonight. This is your moment, and I have absolute confidence in you.”

Tag nodded, part of him gratified by Henry’s belief in him and part of him wishing he could be heading to London in Henry’s stead. Whatever Henry might say, Tag knew that he would try to pressure Jay into going on tonight, and he hated that. Bad enough that Tag had been so fucking cruel last night; he couldn’t stand the idea of Henry doing the same thing. He might be more polite about it, more reasonable, but the message would be the same: you can do it, we need you to do it, don’t let us down.

And that all might be true, but even if it was, it didn’t matter. This was Jay’s choice, and he’d chosen not to perform tonight. Like it or not, the rest of them had to accept it.

Clearly, though, Tag wasn’t going to change Henry’s mind, and so he said nothing more as he left, the door to the Green Room swinging shut behind him.

“Well, fuck-a-doodle,” Freddie said, “I need a coffee. A good one.” She pushed out of her chair. “Let’s give ourselves half an hour to clear our heads and get back here for eight. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Bea said shortly.

Rafe tossed his head moodily. “This isverystressful, not knowing if I’ll even be going on!”

“Welcome to live theatre, sweetie,” Freddie said with a wolfish grin. “This is how it is.”

Tag might have smiled at Rafe’s expression of wounded dignity, but his spirits were too low for smiling. Besides, he had a mission.

When they left the theatre, he headed in the opposite direction from the others, saying he needed a walk to calm down. He didn’t really think about where he was going, but he found himself walking towards the deli—his and Jay’s favourite lunch spot. With a pang, he remembered waking up on Sunday morning to the sight of Jay coming back from his run with Tag’s favourite deli breakfast sandwich. It had felt so… perfect. He’d never really been a coupley guy—or rather, he’d never had time to be a coupley guy—but with Jay, those little moments of togetherness, of simple companionship, had somehow filled a hole Tag hadn’t known was empty.

The thought that he’d thrown all that away was unbearable.

He stopped outside the deli, not remotely hungry, and pulled out his phone. He felt a little guilty, but he couldn’t let Jay be ambushed by Henry. Tag might not be able to stop Henry going, but he sure as hell could warn Jay he was on his way.

As soon as he looked at his phone, he noticed that his previous message to Jay had been read. In fact, it showed that Jay was currently active online. Stupidly, Tag’s heart began to thump. No sign that Jay was typing, though, but he was certainly awake. Probably Henry’s calls had woken him up.

Tag started typing, then stopped, deleted. Started again.

Fuck, he didn’t want to send a message. He wanted to talk to Jay. He wanted to hear his voice, to apologise, and to find out whether Jay was okay. Probably Jay wouldn’t answer, but Tag had to try.

Blowing out a breath, he attempted to calm himself, but, fuck, this was worse than an audition. Giving up, he just stabbed Jay’s number, pressed the phone to his ear, and squeezed his eyes shut.

It rang once, twice, three times.

On the fourth ring, Jay picked up.

“Hello, Tag,” said a voice that wasn’t Jay’s, “this is Phil. I’m looking after Jay’s phone at the moment.”

Tag’s eyes popped open. Who the fuck was Phil? “Er, okay. Is Jay there…?”

“I’m afraid he’s unavailable.”

“Right.”

Phil went on. “Jay’s had quite a few messages this morning, mostly from Bea and Henry. I was interested to see that yours was the only one that asked whether he was okay.”

“Oh.” Tag wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Um,ishe okay?”

“Yes, I think so.” Phil’s voice, which sounded mature and kindly, brightened with humour. “Although he’s currently being monopolised by his mother in the kitchen, so you never know…”

Tag’s head was starting to spin. Dame Cordelia was there? At Jay’s home? He’d thought she was staying in York for tonight’s performance. He rubbed his forehead. “Listen, I was phoning to give Jay a heads-up. Henry’s on the way down to London to see him. Jay might want to be out when he shows up because Henry thinks he can push him into going on tonight. And I think that’s the last thing Jay needs right now.”

Phil made a disapproving sound. “I agree, but I can’t say I’m surprised—it’s all this ‘the show must go on’ nonsense, isn’t it? Sometimes, I think they forget actors are just human beings. Mind you, Mandy was just as bad in her day, dragging herself around the stage with a migraine, lamenting as if the world was ending when anyone dared suggest she just take the bloody night off.”

Mandy…? “Wait, do you mean Amanda Fyffe?”