Alex’s stomach twisted with guilt, but he’d never agreed to come in at the same time during the run as he had during rehearsals. ‘Well, best get going, I’ll see you soon anyway…’He waited expectantly for Russell to agree and end the call. Unfortunately, he didn’t.
Russell cleared his throat dramatically – definitely a Royal Shakespeare Company-approved cough. ‘Ah-hum… Just a couple of things while I’ve got you.’
Alex crossed his fingers and prayed that Russell wasn’t going to shorten the play’s run any further. ‘Yeah?’
‘I know you don’t want any fuss with marketing and promotion. But… we could really do with some publicity to promote the play.’
Alex gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. But he tried his best to remain in character as Alex the relaxed and always-in-control director.‘I’m sorry, man, but Richie’s contract is quite clear. You can use my name, but all interviews must be with the actors only.’
Russell’s reply was professional and direct. ‘Indeed, and I commend your artistic integrity and strict privacy rules, of course I do.’ He took a breath. ‘That being said…’
Here we go.
Russell cleared his throat again, and Alex had the uneasy feeling his character had slipped for just a moment, and maybe, just maybe, he’d inadvertently muttered those internal words out loud. He cringed.
‘That beingsaid,’ Russell continued, more sharply this time.‘This is a theatre, and we need to promote our plays to sell tickets. Especially as it’s only a short run. Now, it’s a great play – wonderful, even – but how will people know that unless they hear about it? Andhowwill they hear about it if the biggest name behind it refusesallinterviews with the press?’
Alex opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t think of an appropriate response. It was true, he’d insisted on cast approval in his contract, and had chosen relatively unknown actors to starin his play. He’d wanted to help launch careers – but had that been a mistake? Theatre audiences loved big names.
‘I have a reporter from theArts Reviewkeen to interview within the next day or two,’ said Russell firmly. ‘They’re not tabloid, they’re aimed at our core audience. So, their questions will be focused purely on the play. It’s up to you – this is a fabulous production, but it needs exposure, and who better to do that than its director, hmmm?’
Russell had a point. Alex took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. ‘My contract was clear. But I will think about it, and I’m sure we can work something out.’
‘Good, good. Glad to hear you’re considering the needs of the production first. The cast is full of bright fresh talent, and their careers could rise or fall because of this.’ Russell’s tone had hardened by the end of his speech, and he left Alex hanging in the silence.
‘I understand.’
The good-natured boss returned with a cheerful, ‘Good, good! Glad we understand each other. Cheerio,’ before he promptly ended the call with a hard click.
Alex’s aching head dropped back against his armchair. He had the uneasy feeling he’d just said yes to the interview without actually saying yes.
Chapter Six
Ellie only had two more days off until she was back at the Royal and working seven nights straight, followed by days, then more nights. It was meant to distract her from Hannah’s leaving, but, rather than luxuriating in the last moments of her freedom, Ellie was restless.
She floated around the house doing anything to distract herself from looking at her phone. After putting on a couple of washes, dusting the shop and cleaning the bathrooms, she’d decided to reorder the mugs so they would be less higgledy-piggledy the next time they had guests – for goodness’ sake, how many celebrities did she expect to bring back each night?
Halfway through the sorting, she discovered some dusty mugs at the back and decided to wash them first before tidying them away. She glanced at the black mirror of her phone, perched against the wall and counter. As always it remained blank and silent. She checked it anyway. Maybe a text had come in while she hadn’t been looking?
Nope. You’re officially delusional.
Alex wasn’t going to call or text her. He probably never wanted to see her again after the fiasco with the press this morning, let alone take her to the fanciest theatre awards ceremony in London. It really shouldn’t be a surprise that Alex had behaved like all the other men she’d met in the past – seeming to lack any sense of object permanence. When a woman was out of sight, she was out of mind, and Ellie was sick of having her hopes raised only to have them stomped on moments later. Hadn’t she sworn to herself that she wouldn’t prioritise men any more? To focus solely on the areas of her life she could control, like owning her own home?
The last guy she’d messaged on a dating app had seemed really sweet at first, until he’d told her bluntly that ‘luckily for her, he was into thicc women. But he was a bit skint at the moment, so did she just want to have phone sex rather than go on a date?’ She’d promptly blocked him and deleted the app.
After David, that creep had been the final straw, and she’d made her New Year’s resolution not long after.
Damn David!He had been like the scorched earth of her love life, turning her once hopeful and romantic dreams into an embarrassment. He’d love-bombed her – that was what Hannah had called it – with over-the-top gestures and lightning-speed love declarations; flowers, gifts, intimate weekends away. He’d been gorgeous, and she’d been so blinded by all of his attention that she hadn’t noticed all of the red flags – his secretiveness, the fact that he wouldn’t allow her to post anything about them on social media, the distant way he treated her in the gym in front of his friends, because he ‘liked to concentrate on his workout’.
All lies. The truth was he’d been ashamed of her.
She was spiralling, and she gripped the counter to steady her racing thoughts.
Alex was a friend, and, if nothing else, Ellie was always a good friend. She turned to look at Mark, who’d made a mess of making his lunch. But she couldn’t even be mad about that because it had given her something else to clean. Although, there was something else she could be mad about – if her suspicions were correct.
‘Stop glaring at me,’ said Mark, avoiding her eyes as he ploughed through his lunch, a bacon baguette the length of a baby’s arm.
She didn’t even blink. Instead, she continued to dry the chopping board with the corgi tea towel. Slow methodical movements just to irritate him. ‘You were really shifty earlier,’ she said mildly.
