Page 71 of Best Supporting Actor

Dame Cordelia looked around then, frowning faintly. “Where’s Bea?” she said at last. “I wanted to talk to you all together.”

“She’ll be back soon,” Henry said. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, I’m not sure if Jay has mentioned,” she said, turning slightly to address everyone. “But my dear,dearfriend Mandy, wholivesin this gorgeous city, wants to throw a little shindig for your production tomorrow evening.” As soon as she began to speak, Dame Cordelia somehow assumed the lead role in the room. It was as though the spotlight had found her, and she was instantly centre stage. Everyone else naturally gravitated around her, her own personal audience.

“It’s just alittleparty,” she went on, “since we’re having to throw it together at the last minute.” Here, she rolled her eyes at Freddie, adding more quietly, as though only the two of them could hear her words, “Mandy'ssucha Last-Minute-Lucy!” Then she turned her attention back to the wider group and said, “Pleasesay you’ll come?” She clasped her hands in front of her chest and looked around hopefully, as though anyone would even think of refusing.

It was beautifully done, and Tag felt sure no one had ever declined an invite from her in her life. She had a sense of expectation about her that you just felt you had to meet. And that youwantedto meet. It occurred to Tag suddenly how different she and Jay were. Jay could don his confident star persona with ease in social situations but, as Tag had come to realise, it was basically just an act—a facsimile of this.

“Of course we’ll come!” Henry exclaimed.

“No chance of us missing out on all that lovely booze,” Freddie added, grinning.

Dame Cordelia gave a tiny clap of her hands, then turned to Giles and said, “And you must come too, Giles.”

Giles beamed. “You’re very kind. I’d love that, thank you.”

Stifling a groan, Tag sent a sidelong glance at Jay, whose jaw tightened betrayingly.

Giles cleared his throat. “I actually have a friend coming up for the weekend. Would it be all right if I brought him along?”

“Of course,” Dame Cordelia carolled. “The more the merrier!”

Tag relaxed a little at that news. With any luck, Giles’s friend would keep him busy and well away from Jay.

The next few minutes were taken up with Dame Cordelia getting Giles’s number—which she insisted in writing in a little green leather notepad while refusing to let anyone show her how to add the number directly to her phone—thenfinding Mandy’s address in the same notepad and reading it out painstakingly slowly,thentelling everyone at least five times to come along any time after seven and absolutelynotto bring a single thing, on pain of death.

“Mandy’s ordered simplycratesof booze and it’s all on sale or return,” she said blithely, as though that meant it was free. “And she has some caterer friend who’s going to rustle up some delicious nibbles—though when we last spoke, she hadn’t evencalledhim yet!” She gave a peal of laughter and added, “Better have some pasta before you come, darlings, or we’ll all be pissed as farts by nine.”

“Oh God,” Jay groaned.

Dame Cordelia laughed again and set a hand on Giles’s forearm. “Poor Julius. He lives in fear of what I’ll get up to at parties.” Turning to Jay, she added, “Don’t worry, darling. I can’t go swimming in the nude this time. Mandy doesn’t have a pool.”

Jay palmed his face and groaned again, and everyone laughed.

“Right-o!” Dame Cordelia said, clapping her hands together. “I daresay I’d best get back and help Mandy with the arrangements.Lovelyto see you, darling. Especially lovely to see youhere, where you belong.” She waved a hand towards the stage and then tugged Jay into another quick hug. After that, she went round bussing everyone else’s cheeks with formidable efficiency, and telling them to make sure Bea and Rafe came too, and that, if anyone else wanted to bring a friend, just to let Jay know so he could text her.

“It’ll be absolutely fine,” she told them all. “It’s just that Mandy needs to know, for security and all that boring nonsense.” She rolled her eyes, then sent them all a final wave and sailed out the door.

It was as though half the occupants of the room had left, rather than only one. Suddenly, the space felt empty and echoey.

“Your mother,” Henry said to Jay fondly, clapping his shoulder. “What a woman.”

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Jay

That evening after rehearsal, Jay was shoving his water bottle into the backpack he’d left in the front row of the stalls, when a teasing voice said, “You do have a dressing room, you know. No need to camp out in the auditorium.”

It was Giles Cox.

Jay suppressed a sigh. Zipping up his backpack, he plastered on a smile and turned to face him. “I do,” he agreed. “But I prefer to keep that for performances only.”

Giles chuckled. “Actors and their superstitions, eh?”

Jay smiled stiffly. “Something like that.”

“And do you have any superstitions about getting a Friday night drink with the festival director?”