Page 12 of Best Supporting Actor

“Leeches,” she said, waving her hand as if batting away a wasp. “Darling, how long has it been since youtrod the boards?”

Jay gritted his teeth. “I appeared in thatDraculaproduction a couple of years ago.”

“Oh, I don’t count that,” she said dismissively. “It was only one night, and for a bit of fun.”

One bloody awful night, actually. Not that he’d admit as much. “Leecheskeeps me very busy,” he said easily. “I enjoy it, I’m good at it, and—”

“Paint-by-numbers acting,” his mother scoffed. “Darling, an actor like you needs the discipline ofThe Work.” As always, she said those two words with heavy reverence. “And I’ve got a wonderful opportunity for you. Simply wonderful. You remember my dear friend, Timon, and his daughter, Bea? Of course you do. Well, Bea is a marvellous young playwright now—she’s been working at the Young Vic, you know. Anyway, she’s casting for a new play—her first full-length work—and she has the perfect role for you. It’s a two-hander about Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen. You know, the war poets? You’ll be Sassoon. Tall, handsome, and very gay! Right up your street.”

“Mother…”

“Oh, don’t be so coy. Oberon was saying just last night that you should lean into that harder.”

“Lean into what?”

“Now you’re being obtuse, darling. Your sexuality, of course. It’s all the rage these days, isn’t it? Which is marvellous. If only dear Johnny could be here to see it.” She looked wistful for a moment, then briskly rallied. “Anyway, I’ve told Bea that you’ll meet her in the new year to discuss the role.”

Jay suppressed a groan. “Great.”

Ignoring that, she said, “I’ve read the play, and it’s very good. And the poetry, of course, is sublime. You always had a knack for poetry.”

That was news to Jay; she was probably mixing him up with Ronnie. Sighing, he said, “You know how I feel about theatre work—it’s really not my forte.”

“And how would you know? You’ve only done one play since RADA, and that was a disaster.”

That was his mother. Never one to shrink from bluntly stating the truth.

“Which is exactly why I prefer television,” he said, smiling determinedly. “ I’mgoodat television.”

Another dismissive wave of her hand. “Well, you have to at least meet with Bea; I’ve told her you will.” She crossed the room to the tall cupboard where she kept her paperwork and fetched a script, walking back to him and holding it out. “In the meantime, promise me you’ll read it.”

Reluctantly, he took the script. It felt weighty, and his stomach lurched with a sickening twist of anxiety. No way would he accept the role, not a chance. There was no getting out of the meeting, though, so he’d have to go along and let poor Bea down gently. Not that he’d be any loss to her production. In fact, he’d be doing her a huge favour. There were plenty of actors better for the role than him. Frankly, any actor who could walk on stage without suffering a complete meltdown would be better for the role than him.

“Fine, I’ll read the play,” he promised his mother. “And I’ll meet with Bea.”

But no more than that.

“Wonderful.” Dame Cordelia stepped closer and took his free hand, squeezing it tight. “That’s all I ask, darling. And honestly, this will be good for you. I know it will. I have a sense about these things.”

Since Jay knew she was entirely mistaken, he simply bent down to kiss her cheek and kept his thoughts to himself.

CHAPTERTHREE

Tag

February - two months later

Tag rounded the corner into his road at a good clip, breathing hard, the muscles in his legs burning with a combination of cold air and exertion. Swerving around a dad and two small kids on scooters heading to school, he finished his run in a minute under his usual time. Not bad. Pleased, he pulled off one glove to rummage in his pocket for the front door key.

He usually ran earlier than this, but he’d managed to swap today’s shift at City Beans for an early tomorrow. That wasn’t ideal, because he was out tonight, but it did mean he’d been able to get a decent night’s sleep and still have all morning to prepare for his audition.

His second audition, in fact, for the role of Wilfred Owen in Beatrice Lawson’s play,Let Us Go Back. Tag had got the callback yesterday. It was between him and one other bloke, and Tag was up for the fight.

The house was silent when he let himself back in—his mum was working mid-shifts at the moment, and his dad always left by seven, which meant Tag had the place to himself. Perfect.

He took a few minutes in the hallway to catch his breath and strip off his hat and gloves. It wasn’t that he loved running, but he did enjoy the endorphin rush afterwards, and he was feeling good as he took off his running shoes and worked through some basic yoga stretches. He felt great, in fact. Well-rested and excited about the day ahead. Determined.

Telling his family over Christmas that he might be up for a recurring role inBow Streetif it was picked up had been something, even if Stevie hadn’t looked too impressed. This role, though, could be the break Tag had been waiting for. If it was true that they had a big name lined up to play Sassoon, then it could even be career-making—something that would get him in front of serious people in the industry. Who knew where it might lead?