‘I think I knew ever since I was little. I just always loved performing.’
‘That’s just like me!’
Bridie grinned. ‘I know.’ She remembered. It seemed like only yesterday that Layla was five years old and was dressing up and performing in front of her family, always running up to Bridie to ask her how well she’d done, sensing even then her mother’s disapproval.
Bridie didn’t want to encourage her niece to lie, but it might be an idea for her not to be so enthusiastic about it if she wanted to join the drama club. ‘Look, all I’m saying is that you could put a spin on it that you’re only joining because your best friend is.’
‘But she’s not.’
‘She could join for a little bit, then drop out, if you want to cover your tracks. Do you think she’ll do that for you?’
‘Yeah, she’d do anything for me.’
‘That’s good then.’
‘But my mum’s not stupid.’
Bridie’s smile faltered. That was true. She had another idea. ‘You could say there’s a boy you like, and well …’ Bridie was pretty sure her niece didn’t have a boyfriend yet. She had a thought, ‘Or a girl you fancy …? And that’s why you want to join.’ She thought that was more plausible.
‘I’m into boys. One boy in particular.’
Bridie grinned. ‘You’ve got a boyfriend?’
Layla whispered, ‘No one knows. It’s early days …’
Bridie looked at her niece, with her expertly applied makeup accentuating her large hazel eyes, and her long blonde hair, expertly blow-dried with soft waves. Bridie did not remember being that sophisticated and sounding so grown-up when shewas Layla’s age. But she did remember what it was like to be in love at fifteen with a boy from school.
‘What’s his name?’
‘Charlie.’
‘Charlie. So that’s really why you want to join,’ Bridie said, a little disappointed.
‘No, not at all. We both happen to want to join the drama club. It’s how we met. Funny story. There’s a list on a board outside Mr Williams’ classroom, and a pen. We both reached for the pen at the same time. But would you believe, his parents – well, his dad – is being a right … arse about it, just like Mum will be when I tell her.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, I’m afraid I can’t help with Charlie getting into the drama club as well.’
Layla sighed. ‘I know.’
‘But look, I’m sure if you spoke to your dad first, tell him how much this means to you, he could play it down a bit, just so you could join. It’s only an after-school club, after all. You’re not committing your whole life to it.’ They both knew she already had.
‘I overheard them talking about you … again.’ Layla dropped her eyes. ‘When Auntie Caroline and Uncle Jeremy come down to their holiday home in Suffolk at the weekends and pop in to see Mum and Dad.’
Bridie sighed. She could just imagine what they were saying about her. She wasn’t surprised they talked about her behind her back. She’d always felt like an outsider in her own family – even more so once the three of them had grown up and gone their separate ways, with her two siblings earning good money in London.
She’d never be able to compete with their salaries or lifestyles, especially her brother and sister-in-law. They’d recently bought a second home – a cottage on the Suffolk Coast – making them the sort of people that locals frowned upon. Jeremy had tentatively offered Bridie and her fiancé a holiday in their holiday home, but Caroline had snobbishly vetoed that idea, saying that they weren’t holiday-letting their cottage and that people shouldn’t expect a free holiday, and should pay their own way.
Bridie had bit back a smart retort that they weren’t people; she was family. But if Caroline had that attitude, Bridie didn’t want to stay in their cottage.
She caught Layla biting her lip, looking at her shyly.
Bridie sighed. She thought she might as well hear what they had to say. It probably wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard, or overheard, before. ‘What did they say?’
‘Well, Caroline and Mum talked about you working in the theatre, and said that it’s not a proper job, and it will never make a good living, because you’re still renting in your thirties and they have mortgages.’
