Page 88 of Best Supporting Actor

He caught up with Tag just outside the theatre, relieving him of one of the cardboard cups he was carrying. There was already a buzz about the place when they got inside. Henry and Bea were talking animatedly while Freddie adjusted the placement of Sassoon’s armchair and the other items on the stage. Jay and Tag got busy with make-up and putting on their first act costumes. And after that, it was time to get started.

As was often the case with dress rehearsals, they seemed to be bedevilled with endless issues, small but annoying things that Freddie took detailed notes on while Henry barked out orders. Everyone was getting a bit testy, even Tag, who was usually the most cheerful of them all.

When they finished the last scene in Act One, Jay stepped to the front of the stage and said, addressing Henry, “Before we break, should we run that scene again with Rafe? There were a couple of tricky moments with the blocking when Tag and I had that little scuffle—it feels different when you’re in costume. I wouldn’t want Rafe to be unprepared.”

Rafe began to rise from his seat in the front row, only to sink back again when Henry waved him down irritably. “Not now. I want to run through from beginning to end with you and Tag and no interruptions. We can come back to this later—Fred, take a note will you?” Freddie, who was sitting at the end of the front row, with her massive promptbook on the seat beside her and an A4 notebook on her knee, waved a hand in the air in acknowledgement of the instruction even as she kept scribbling. Henry added firmly to Jay, "All I want you to do right now is concentrate on your performance, okay?”

Jay gave a tight nod. “Okay.”

“Good. Let’s start on Act Two then.”

“Actually, can we take a quick break?” Bea said, standing up and rolling her shoulders. “I need to nip to the loo, and I wouldn’t mind grabbing a coffee while I’m at it.”

Henry gave a huff of annoyance, but Bea was already walking towards the door, a grateful-looking Rafe falling in behind her. Even Freddie was closing her notebook.

“Fine,” Henry said with a sigh. “Back in ten, yeah?” The sound of the door closing behind Bea was his only reply.

“Come on, Henry,” Freddie said, beckoning him. “You need a cig.”

He made a face, but got up and shuffled after her.

When everyone else was gone, Jay turned to Tag. He was sitting on the floor of the stage, his uniform-clad legs stretched out in front of him, head leaning back, eyes closed. His officer’s cap lay on the floor beside him.

“You okay?” Jay asked.

Tag lifted his head and opened his eyes. “Yeah, fine,” he said, though he sounded a bit fed up. “You?” His gaze was direct. Searching.

Jay shrugged and paced to the other end of the stage, then back again, legs restless with unhappy energy.

After a moment, Tag said, “What was with the Rafe thing?”

“What Rafe thing?”

An impatient huff. “You wanting him to run the scene we just did.”

“I don’t know, I just—it felt different when we played it that time. It threw me a bit. It seemed sensible to make the point, you know?”

Tag shook his head, his dark gaze a little challenging. “Not really. We’re doing a dress rehearsal. We’re meant to be treating this like opening night, not taking time-outs to check in with the understudy and have a fucking coffee break.”

Jay glared. “It’s not my fault Bea decided she wanted a latte.”

“Yeah, well, maybe she wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t already interrupted the flow.”

“Jesus, I made one bloody comment. Excuse me!”

Tag surged gracefully to his feet, gaze intent on Jay. “It’s not just one comment, though,” he said. “I’ve never known another actor to be so bothered about the understudy. Most of us spend our time hoping and praying we’ll never need to call on them.”

“Oh, in your vast experience, you mean?” Jay snapped. He pressed his lips together at Tag’s wounded look and turned away, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“All I’m saying is that you seem pretty hung up about Rafe,” Tag said quietly. When Jay didn’t respond, Tag sighed and said, “Look, Jay, I know that you—” But he never got any further because, just then, the door flew open and Bea came charging through.

“Oh my God, you guys! Look at this!” She waved her phone at them and did a little skipping dance as she headed their way. “Austin Coburn wrote about the play—the link’s on Twitter! National media coverage and we’ve not even opened yet!”

She held out her phone and, heart thudding, Jay took it from her.

“It’s on Twitter?” Tag said as he jumped down from the stage and started rummaging in his bag for his own phone.

Jay looked down at Bea’s phone screen. Austin had posted a tweet, with a link to an article. The picture in the link was of Jay at the TV Best Awards, standing beside Mason, Tag in the background talking to Lewis Hunter.