Bridie looked closer. Was it her imagination, or was the expression one of jealousy? She shook her head. Although her mum wasn’t smiling in the photo, she knew it was a bit of a leap to try and guess what she was thinking.
Bridie was perhaps just imagining what she herself might be thinking if she was in her mum’s shoes. She was still carrying extra pounds from being pregnant with Kate and was perhaps feeling a bit frumpy in comparison to Isobel, who was lookingvery slender in a gorgeous ankle-length silk dress and a faux-fur jacket. Her long black hair was almost as silky as her dress, and she had large, wide eyes, and full lips below high cheekbones. She was blowing a kiss suggestively for the camera.
It probably didn’t help that Rufus and Reggie only seemed to have eyes for Isobel. Bridie’s mum was almost fading into the background as the three cast leads dominated the photo. It made her wonder if it wasn’t her dad’s idea at all for him to leave the theatre, but her mum’s. Her mum looked uncomfortable. This world of theatrical types wasn’t quite her cup of tea.
Bridie finished leafing through all the photos and the theatre programmes, surprised at how many shows her dad had starred in at the local theatre. Reggie had mentioned he’d been on the London stage too, and that they’d been a touring troupe, taking their shows around the country. Perhaps that was where her mum and dad had met – maybe she’d gone to one of the shows.
As if it was fate, or serendipity, the last photo she came across was one of her mum and dad – her mum looking younger, slimmer, outside The Little Theatre by the Sea. There was no engagement or wedding ring on her mum’s finger. It suggested this was indeed how they’d first met – when she’d gone to a show at the local theatre, even though they’d said it was a village dance where they had first met.
Bridie rolled her eyes. Of course they’d never said, because if they had, then they’d have had to reveal her dad’s secret past as a stage actor.
Bridie carefully placed the photos on her bedside table, out of the way of the sleeping puppy’s curious nose. If he were to wake up any time soon, she’d have to quickly put everything back in the shoebox. Everything, including precious old photos and letters, would be straight in his mouth and chewed to pieces if she wasn’t careful.
After she had flicked through the programmes, Bridie came to the small envelopes which were clearly private correspondence. Reggie must have forgotten about these. She should return them. The envelopes were open. All she had do was slip the letters out and then put them back. Reggie would never know.
Don’t do it,a little voice in her head scolded her as she reached inside the first envelope. Reggie had kindly given her the shoebox, not because she owned the theatre, but because she was the daughter of Rufus Hart – Reggie’s best friend years earlier. And this was how she was repaying his kindness – by reading his private letters?
But what if they shed some light on Isobel Raine? Bridie was captivated by the actress. She put the guilty feeling to one side and read each letter in turn. They were written by Reggie and addressed to Isobel Raine. It quickly dawned on her what she was reading – these were love letters.
She looked at the envelopes and realised something else – they showed an address. The writing was faint, but still discernible – the address was in London. Perhaps it was where Isobel had lived when she wasn’t on tour. However, the letters had been returned to Reggie – the backs of the envelopes were markedreturn to sender– at his address there in Cobblers Yard.
Now Bridie realised they’d most likely been returned unopened, and over time, the glue holding the envelope flaps down had worn away, and the envelopes had opened.
‘Oops,’ Bridie said, realising she’d been the first person to see the letters meant for Isobel. She scratched her head. For some reason, Reggie had kept the letters that had been returned to him, perhaps in the hope he might see her again one day and give her the letters in person. Perhaps that was why he’d left them where they were, giving Bridie the whole box, aware there was no hope now of ever seeing Isobel again.
Bridie continued reading the letters until she came to the last one. She sighed. How sad that it sounded as though Reggie’s love for Isobel had been unrequited. And then she had gone, never to be seen or heard from again.
She didn’t know whether she wanted to read the very last letter. It was all so sad. She imagined that was why Reggie had never married, never had children – he had always been waiting in the hope that Isobel might, by some miracle, return.
Not one to leave unfinished business, Bridie couldn’t help herself. She read the last letter. ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh. My. God.’
She had to reread the letter just to be sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. It wasn’t easy because she’d woken Barney, who was immediately interested in what Bridie had in her hand and kept trying to jump up and nab the letter.
‘No, Barney!’
He then put his nose in the box where Bridie had put the letters she’d read. ‘Barney!’
Bridie picked up the box and attempted to put it down on the side-table. Unfortunately, she wasn’t looking at what she was doing and put it on the pile of photos. The box and photos fell on the floor with a thud, the photos falling out all over the carpet, some going under the bed.
Barney barked and wagged his tail as though it was a great game, until Bridie shouted at him, ‘Bad dog!’ Of course it wasn’t his fault, but the sound of her angry voice sent him whimpering to the far corner of the bed. He shoved his head under a pillow, hiding.
Bridie looked at the letter still in her hand, the mess on the floor, and the trembling pup – she’d never shouted at him before – and didn’t know what to do first; tear up the letter in her hand, or clear up the mess on the floor, or … she heard Barney whimpering.
‘Oh, Barney.’ She leaned over and picked him up. His ears were low, his tail between his legs. ‘I didn’t mean it, I swear. It was my fault. I wasn’t angry with you. I could never be angry with you.’ She held him close, kissing the top of his head, and got lots of doggy kisses in return. And several happy yaps.
She sat on the edge of the bed and took out the letter she’d been reading when Barney woke up. There was more to this than her parents simply hiding the fact that her dad had had a career in theatre. Much more.
It couldn’t be true. Had her dad been in love with Isobel Raine too?
She recalled that photo of her mum standing beside her dad looking past him to Isobel. Was there something going on between them then, and her mum was aware? Was that why he had left the theatre forever?
Bridie shoved the letter in the drawer and picked up the little card Jack had given her. She’d taken it out of her coat pocket the previous night and left it on her bedside table. Oliver’s warning was ringing in her ears when she thought about taking Jack up on his offer –don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Bridie picked up her mobile phone and dialled Jack’s number. It was Saturday. Although he ran his own business, she doubted he’d pick up his work phone at the weekend. She doubted if he’d even pick up her message that morning. She left him a message anyway. ‘Jack, it’s Bridie – will you meet me at the theatre today?’
Chapter 32
‘Your dad had an affair?’ Jack laughed out loud.
