Devoted 2 : Where the Ivy Grows (15 page)

When I wake the next morning, I’m shivering. It takes me a moment to realise I’ve flung off the duvet in my sleep and am lying on the bed in just an old t-shirt and panties.

My chest feels heavy, and there’s a sickly feeling in my stomach. I have no peace from thoughts of Marc. They’re waiting for me before I even open my eyes.

I hug my knees to my chest and look out at the orangey brown leaves. In autumn, I love going early morning leaf kicking, but today it’s a struggle to sit upright.

I dress in old clothes lying on the floor and drink a glass of water, but I feel too sick for hot chocolate or food.

Sliding my phone from under my pillow, I check to see if Marc has called or sent a message. He hasn’t
since yesterday, but as I scroll down the call list, I see missed calls from a London number.

Shit
.

Davina
. Tottenham Theatre. What time is it?

9am.

I hardly
ever
sleep in. Why did today have to be the day?

What time did
Davina say? Seven. Shit, shit, shit. I call the number, but there’s no reply.

I’m about to try again, when my phone rings.

‘Hello?’

‘Hey babes, how are you?’ It’s Jen.

‘Not great. I should be at the theatre right now. I slept in.’ I rub my eyes.

‘You took the part?’

‘Uh huh. Told them I’d come for rehearsals at 7am today.’

‘So what are you doing talking to me? Get yourself to that theatre right now. Do you want me to call you a cab?’

‘No, it’s fine. I’ll walk. It’s only a few streets away. A cab would take longer.’

‘I’m glad you said yes,’ says Jen. ‘You show them. Show them all.’

‘I need to show Marc, most of all.’

Inside, a little voice says,
Marc says it’s dangerous. And you know you can’t sing.

‘You go
, girl,’ says Jen.

‘I wish I had your courage,’ I say.

‘You’re braver than you think,’ says Jen. ‘Trust me. I’ve known you a long time.’

The Tottenham Theatre is a truly beautiful building. I don’t know when it was built, or anything like that, but it looks like a giant wedding cake – all pink and white, with little stone flowers stuck all over it.

I feel a pang of sadness as I realise Marc would probably love this building.

Even though it’s early, the main doors to the theatre are open, and I walk into the lobby, wondering where I might find Davina.

I needn’t have worried – she’s right there, pacing the red carpet, barking into a mobile phone.
I recognise her voice immediately.

‘No,
now
,’ she shouts. ‘This is an emergency.’

She’s a very tall woman, with jet black hair cut into a sharp bob. She has a really straight fringe, a pointy little nose and bright red lips, and is dressed in a sort of woolly shawl and a long pencil skirt with tan leather boots. The shawl is probably really expensive, but it looks like something you’d see in a charity shop.

When Davina sees me, she drops her mobile to her chest.

‘
Sophia
!’ The way she says my name, I know she’s happy to see me, but also a little mad. ‘
Where
have you been?’

‘I called,’ I say. ‘I really am sorry. I slept in. I don’t usually -’

‘Do you realise how little time we have?’

She sho
os me towards some wooden double doors. ‘We’ve been rehearsing without you for hours. Leo’s ... well, it would take a freight train to make him stressed, but it hasn’t been the easiest of mornings. You should have told us you were on your way. We had photographers ready.’

‘I did call. I should have kept trying. Sorry. Photographers?’

‘Well, of course. We planned to take some shots when we picked you up, but we’ve blown that now.’

‘What sort of photographers?’

Davina raises a thin black eyebrow. ‘Sophia, my dear, do you live in a cave?
Press
photographers. So we can get some good headlines for the play.’

‘Oh. Right.’ Headlines. Of course. Silly me.

‘We missed some good shots,’ says Davina, sounding annoyed, pushing me through the double doors into the theatre itself.

I can’t help catching my breath when I see the auditorium. It’s huge and beautiful, with tiered seats running up so high that it’s a wonder the people at the top can see the stage.

Yellow tassel fringes run along the tiers, and an enormous crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling.

I see a huge, curved stage, decorated with a menacing forest backdrop – all twisted trees, evil-looking birds and grey branches.

There’s a very broad, very handsome man on stage with chin-length, sun-bleached blond hair.

Leo Falkirk.

‘Leo!’
Davina calls out. ‘She’s here! Your leading lady.’

Silence. Then a long shout that makes me jump.

‘Oooo – eee! At long last.’

The man takes a great leap from the stage and lands squarely in the aisle. He bounds towards me.

Wow. Leo Falkirk. The real one. From the movies.

Even with images of Marc churning around my mind, it’s impossible not to notice how good looking Leo is. He’s big and broad, with muscled brown arms under a white ‘surf shack’ t-shirt, and long legs in ripped jeans. His
sun-bleached hair is tucked behind his ears.

I’ve seen a few of his movies. He usually plays the lovable rogue in romantic comedies, and although he’s no Marc Blackwell, he’s certainly very likeable.

Leo heads towards me, hand outstretched, and I let him shake mine.

‘Hey, good to meet you.’ His accent is pure Texas, and as warm as syrup on toast. ‘I can’t wait for you to be my girl.’ He smiles and his brown eyes twinkle. ‘On stage, of course. Off stage, you’re someone else’s girl, right? That’s what’s going to get us all this great publicity.’

‘So I’m told.’

‘Tell me,’ says Leo, ‘how is Mr Blackwell?’

He hasn’t let go of my hand, so I slide it from his warm grip.

‘He was
in one of my first movies, did you know that?’ Leo strokes blond stubble on his chin. ‘
Gideon’s Wish
. Did you see that movie?’

‘Once. Years ago. Marc was amazing.’

‘He sure was amazing,’ says Leo. ‘Acting with him was ... quite something.’

‘You were in that movie?’

Leo laughs. ‘Kind of. I played the skateboarder in the waiting room. Remember him?’

‘No.’ I smile.

‘It wasn’t a speaking part. But I was happy to get it. Hell, happy isn’t the word. Over the moon. I told all my friends back home, and my parents held a party. They couldn’t believe their little boy was in a Hollywood movie. They still can’t.’ He grins. ‘I can’t believe it either. One day this will all go pop, but I plan to enjoy it while it lasts. So anyway. I remember Marc. He was a good guy. Kept himself to himself. Didn’t talk a lot. But when he did, everyone listened.’

‘That sounds like Marc.’

‘When the movie wrapped up, he treated everyone to dim sum and champagne at this amazing Chinese place. And I do mean everyone. All the stunt guys. Costume people. Even bit parts like me. I’d never had anything like dim sum before – I couldn’t believe this big star was treating me. I never forgot that. Things like that, the press never write about. But I guess, I don’t need to tell you.’

‘Shall we start rehearsing now?’

‘Sure.’

Last night, I got a good feel for the script. I didn’t manage to memorise everything Davina wanted, but I think I learned enough.

Today, we’re scheduled to rehearse scene twelve where Beast shows Beauty around his castle. Leo and I throw out a few lines, and I soon discover we work well together. He’s so easy to be around, and
he puts his heart and soul into his performance, just like I do.

But when Leo mentions trying out a song, my mouth goes dry.

‘I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet,’ I say.

‘Come on, try it,’ says Leo. ‘
Davina’s out there making calls.’ He jabs a thumb at the lobby. ‘No time like the present. And if I can sing, I’m sure you can.’

‘Where did you do your musical training?’ I ask.

‘Promise you won’t tell?’

‘I won’t tell.’

‘The school choir.’

I laugh.

‘How about you?’

‘I’ve hardly done any,’ I say. ‘I was really surprised when they offered me the part.’

‘I’m sure you’ll be great,’ says Leo. ‘With practise.’ He bounds off stage, and I hear magical, other-worldly music float through the sound system.

It’s beautiful, and I recognise it.

‘Davina sent me that track yesterday,’ I call out. ‘But ... this version sounds a little different.’

Leo bounces back on stage. ‘It’s been arranged by Geraldine Jones. I love it too. How come you aren’t singing?’

‘I sort of missed my cue,’ I say. ‘I got a bit lost in the music.’

‘Shall I start it again?’

‘Yes, please.’ I take a deep breath and shake my arms. ‘Okay. Ready.’

Leo starts the music
again, and I clear my throat.

I sing the first few lines, ‘
Lost in this castle, my heart feels afraid ...’
and then I stumble. The next line. It’s
like a bird in a cage.

My throat grows tight, and I put a hand to it. Tears come, and I shake them away, furious with myself.

‘Like a ...’ I try, but I can’t get the line out. More tears prickle, and I run down the stage steps to my bag, rummaging inside, looking for tissues. My bag is such a hopeless mess that all I can find is chewing gum, loose coins, a beaten up notepad and a whole load of chocolate wrappers.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ Leo asks, appearing be
hind me. ‘You were doing great. What happened?’

I shake my head. ‘Nothing. I just ... that line. I found it hard to say.’

‘Some of these songs are pretty emotional, huh?’

I nod.

‘Hey, let’s take a break.’

‘Good idea.’

We take seats in the fifth row, Leo resting his long legs on the seat in front. We’re a few feet back from the stage, and the set looks completely beautiful from where we’re sitting. All dark, twisty trees, like a gothic fairytale. It’s a bit spooky, but I like that.

‘You did good,’ says Leo. ‘You have a pretty voice.’

‘Thank you. I know it’s not the strongest, but maybe with practise ... I need to speak to Denise Crompton. She’ll help me.’

‘Denise Crompton? As in
the
Denise Crompton?’

‘She’s a teacher at Ivy College.’

Leo slaps his forehead. ‘Of course! She and Marc are great friends, right?’

Damn it! I’d just stopped crying. N
ow I’m off again, tears leaking down my cheeks.

‘Did I say something wrong? Is something up? Was it ... because I mentioned Marc?’ Confusion pulls at Leo’s blond eyebrows.

I know my silence speaks volumes, but I can’t manage to get any words out.

‘Did you two have a fight or something?’ The little dimples disappear from Leo’s cheeks.

I bite my lip. ‘We’re ... it’s complicated right now.’

I hear a cough behind me, and turn to see
Davina. ‘Complicated?’

‘Oh!
Davina.’

‘What do you mean,
complicated
?’

‘We ... there are things we need to talk about.’

‘But you’re still together?’ Davina barks.

‘I
think so, but ... I don’t know right now.’

‘You don’t
know
?’ Davina’s eyes narrow. ‘Sophia, without Marc, you’re nobody. You do understand that, don’t you? You’re no good to us without Marc.’

‘I don’t know what to tell you,’ I say, humiliation rising. ‘I can’t promise Marc and I are still together. I’ll understand if I’m not right for you anymore. I didn’t mean to mislead anyone.’

‘Hey.’ Leo puts a hand on my shoulder. ‘It’s fine. We need a leading lady, and we’ve got one. What’s the problem?’

Worry wrinkles appear around
Davina’s eyes. ‘She’s ... look, I don’t mean to be rude, Leo, but we hired her for the publicity. If she can’t bring us that, what good is she?’

‘Don’t you read the papers?’ says Leo. ‘She beat thousands of actors to get into Marc Blackwell’s college. Which should tell you she’s a pretty decent actress. We were lucky to get anyone at such short notice. You’ve been on the phone all morning, and no cigar. Am I right?’

Davina puts red fingernails to her forehead. ‘You don’t get it, Leo. Publicity is our lifeblood. Without it, we die. We’ll have to find someone else. Short notice or not.’