Sashaburst out laughing.He crumpled up Sir Ralf’s crested envelope andchucked it at Laurie’s head.“Bastard.I was all ready to supportyou through your disappointment.”
“I know.”Lauriedidknow, and was briefly ashamed of having called upthat vast, loving spirit on a false alarm.“No need, though.Anyway, I’m not worthy.Eat your toast.”
Sashagot up.He went round the table, stood behind his chair and huggedhim.“I’m so proud of you.”He kissed one ear tip, making Laurieshiver and rub against him like a cat.“But didn’t you audition forMercutio?”
“Yes, but their pick for Romeo was late.I might’ve done hislines as well.Just to help out, you know.”
“How late was he, Laurence?”
Lauriegrinned seraphically.“Oh, a good thirty seconds.He said somebodyleft a prop trolley wedged against his dressing-roomdoor.”
“You didn’t...”
“No!”Laurie flashed him an indignant glance.“I just act ’emoff the stage.If they can’t get there in the first place, that’stheir own problem.”
“Well, however you managed, it’s brilliant.Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Laurie said sincerely, and gave him a butterykiss.“But to be honest I’d rather have got the other role.OrTybalt—especially Tybalt.Or even Juliet.She’s a grand girl,bigger balls than all the lads put together.Romeo’s a fool and abore.”He sighed, comically languid, and leaned his head back ontoSasha’s shoulder.“Ah, typecast again!”
Sashasnorted.“You clown.Listen, don’t do it if you don’t want.I betyou could make them give you Mercutio—I mean, having met him andall.”
“Met him?”
“I didn’t find Romeo juggling my breakfast this morning, didI?”
“No.Romeo can’t make an omelette.”
“Nor can Mercutio, if you’ll forgive my saying so.Not withoutsetting fire to the eggs.”
Laurieshook his head sadly, fanning away imaginary remnants of smoke.“That gallant breakfast hath aspired the clouds.You know what I’dreally like to do?Look at this.”
Hepushed back the chair beside his and gently dumped Sasha into it.Sasha went down willingly, quite used by now to such expertmanhandling, enjoying the sensation of being in his hands.He’dseen Laurie catch men twice his weight in stage fights: that leanframe concealed a formidable strength.“Look at what?Thisleaflet?”
“Yes, this poor scrap being outshone by Sir Ralf’s heraldicletterhead.It’s a request for me to do a benefit night.Tinylittle outfit called the Plain-an-Gwarry Players, off in wild WestCornwall.”
“Plain-an-Gwarry?”
“Yeah.A kind of open-air theatre, hundreds of years old, orthe idea of it is.They’re trying to revive Celtic mystery plays.This one’s up on a hilltop near the sea—some kind of hippyeco-farm.”
Sashatook the leaflet from him, ran a fingertip over the photos.“Beautiful.Look, their stage is a boat half buried in the earth,prow up so it makes a little arch.There’s a temple, too, completewith firepit and stone benches.”
“Mm.Apparently people tramp all the way up the hill from PorthBeach to see them, especially the surfer crowd in summer.Soundslike fun.And it’s been a while since I did a charitygig.”
“Do it, then.”
Leaningan elbow on the table, Laurie looked at him, suddenly wistful.“Could we, Sash?Just blow out of here and leave Arnold and hismachinations behind—Romeo, too?I know I’d be missing a hell of anopportunity, but...”
“You should do whatever makes you happy.”Sasha paused toexamine Laurie’s face.“That was a long run for you, playingBertram the beast.Are you tired?”
Laurieshrugged.“How can I be?I’ve only just begun my meteoric rise tofame.You, though—you’d be better off in all that fresh air.Do youlike Cornwall?”
“I don’t know.I’ve never been.”
“Really?It’s only a few hours out of town.”
“Yeah, I know.Not a top holiday destination from the mahala,though.”
Thequiet observation, smilingly delivered, stopped them both dead intheir tracks.Sasha sat motionless for a few seconds, thendistractedly gathered up the paperwork and put it out of range oftheir coffee and marmalade.He couldn’t believe he’d said it.Heseldom referred to his past, least of all to Laurie, who had liftedhim so generously away from it.As for Laurie, he was pale with theshock of having forgotten, even for a second, the differencesbetween them.“Sash...”
