Page 107 of Best Supporting Actor
Fifteen minutes until curtain up.
His nerves were jangling, adrenaline buzzing in his fingertips and toes. Fizzing in his stomach. He’d been to the loo three times in the last twenty minutes. Ifhefelt this nervous, how the hell was Jay managing?
Tag had barely seen him since early that afternoon. They’d ended up spending the rest of the morning at Mandy and Phil’s. Christ, ‘Mandy and Phil’s’? Listen to him name-dropping like a fucking pro. Anyway, it had been clear that Jay wanted to stay. He’d looked relaxed there and was obviously fond of them, and his mother had been there too, of course. Tag couldn’t help worrying that Jay had maybe also wanted to avoid having an awkward conversation with him. They’d done a lot of cautious smiling across the big wooden table, and talked a little about the play, but Jay had made no attempt to speak to Tag alone. And Tag hadn’t pushed it.
Then, at one o’clock, Tag’s mum had messaged from the train to tell him that she and his dad were almost in York. So, he’d left to meet them at the station and help get their luggage to the Travelodge they’d booked for the night. Just as he was leaving, Jay had looked up and Tag had smiled. A little part of him had hoped Jay might offer to come along. He was pretty sure that a day ago, Jay would have jumped at the chance to meet Tag’s mum and dad. But this afternoon, he’d only smiled and said, “I’ll see you at the theatre, then.”
Tag had spent the afternoon showing his parents the sights of York, letting his mum fuss over him, and treating them to afternoon tea at Betty’s. It was only when he was paying the bill, thankful that he’d soon be getting his rent money back, that he realised he’d forgotten to thank Jay for sorting that out.
Which had made him feel like an ungrateful idiot all over again.
Leaving his parents at their hotel, Tag had headed into the theatre early. After the turmoil of the previous twenty-four hours, he’d wanted time alone to get his head back into the game. Jay had arrived an hour later, looking tense and pale, but calm, with Henry sticking to his side as if afraid he might do a runner.
Taghadmanaged to grab a couple of moments alone with Jay in the Green Room while Henry went to speak to Freddie. It hadn’t exactly been awkward between them, but it hadn’t been what it was before their stupid argument. Tag felt as though they were both treading on eggshells. When he’d asked Jay how he was doing, though, Jay had given a nervous laugh and held out a trembling hand.
Taking it, Tag had gripped it in both his own and fixed Jay with a firm look. “I’ll be with you the whole time. If you forget a line, I’ll prompt you. If it’s all too much, we stop. Okay?”
Nodding, gazing right into Tag’s eyes, Jay had looked like he wanted to say something more, but in the end all he’d managed was a heartfelt, “Thank you.” Then he’d squeezed Tag’s hand, let go, and disappeared with Henry.
Tag hadn’t seen him since.
A loud knock startled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Freddie poking her head around the dressing room door. “Five minutes!”
Tag said, “How’s Jay doing?”
“Coping. You worry about getting yourself where you’re meant to be on time.” She flashed him a quick smile before she left. “Break a leg, kiddo.”
Standing, he took a final sip of water to moisten his dry mouth, closed his eyes, and spent a full minute doing his favourite breathing exercise. Then he picked up his cap, notebook, and pen, and headed up to the wings.
The curtain was metaphorical in this theatre, but the stage was in darkness and the house lights were up. From the audience came an expectant babble of laughter and chatter, washing across the stage towards him, and Tag felt a rush of excitement as it reached him. Magically, his nerves transformed into anticipation and he found himself bouncing on his toes, eager to get out there. Eager to begin. Christ, but he fuckinglovedthis.
The play’s first lines were Jay’s, which was unfortunate. But Tag would be on stage with him, hidden in the darkness, sitting at a table in the officers’ bar. Jay would walk across the stage, his appearance morphing from old man to soldier before the scene came to life around him.
If he froze, if he forgot that crucial opening line…
Tag tamped down a spike of alarm on Jay’s behalf. If that happened, Tag would handle it, that’s all. Whatever happened, he’d make sure Jay was okay.
In the wings on the far side of the stage, Tag glimpsed Jay waiting, too. He was shaking out his hands nervously, and Henry stood with him holding the rifle Jay would carry.
Sensing Tag’s gaze, perhaps, Jay looked over and, for an instant, their eyes met.
Then the house lights went down, the audience quieted, and Freddie touched Tag’s shoulder. His signal to get into position.
Silently, he moved across the dark stage to sit at the table, setting his cap down, opening his notebook, and setting his pen to the paper. His heart hammered, a flood of adrenaline sharpening his focus, bringing everything they’d rehearsed over the past six weeks to bear on this single moment in time. This wasit.
And then the spot came on, and Jay was walking on stage.
Jay was walking on stage.
Bent over, using his rifle as a stick, he shuffled towards Tag, gradually straightening, shifting into the posture and gait of a young man. A soldier.
Quietly at first, then louder, a piano started to play, the muffled grumble of the guns not quite masked by its cheerful plink-plonk. Tag drew a breath, and the lights went up around him. His eyes were on the notebook he was writing in, but all his focus was on Jay in his peripheral vision, willing him on, willing him to speak.
The wait felt eternal.
“Owen?” Jay said at last, in the clipped upper-class accent he used for Sassoon. “I can’t believe it. What are you doing here, old boy?”
Tag lifted his eyes to Jay’s and saw his tension, saw his courage, but, above all, he saw Sassoon. And his heart soared. “Inever left,” he said. “You’re the one who got lost, remember?” He offered one of Owen’s shy smiles. “But I’m glad you’re back, Sassoon. I’ve missed you…”