‘So far so good,’ she said cautiously. ‘At one stage I thought I’d made the volcanic lava bowl too big for the kiln, but it just fitted.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Sounds intriguing. When does the exhibition open?’
‘At the start of September,’ she answered, forcing down the familiar stab of anxiety when she considered how quickly time was passing.
Conscious that two months was not long to fill a room with bespoke ceramics, she’d begun sketching out designs almost as soon as she had returned from her meeting with Ewan McRae, before the fee had been negotiated or the agreement signed. Catriona had been delighted with her vision for the exhibition,offering one or two suggestions on layout but bowing to Maura’s experience and skill when it came to the work itself. And then Maura had devised a schedule; the larger pieces would take longest to dry and needed to be crafted as a priority. There was more chance that they might crack in the kiln or simply not turn out the way she expected – she needed to allow time to experiment and possibly fail.
There were also the ghosts. She had two designs to produce now and sales showed no signs of dropping off. Having Sharon on board to decorate and glaze them on Thursdays was a big help, and there was no doubt she saw it as a learning experience as well as earning some money, but Maura was still grateful. She seemed happy to help. Effie and Cordelia were keen to do what they could too, but Maura couldn’t lean on their goodwill for much longer. Once the pieces for exhibition were complete, she intended to make sure all three students felt able to focus on making things for themselves once more, at least on Tuesday mornings.
Fraser’s gaze was concerned as he regarded her. ‘You’re not pushing yourself too hard, are you? All work and no play is a famously bad combination.’
She straightened her shoulders, determined to show him she had everything under control. ‘That’s why we’re here. I mean, what could be more playful than an actual play?’
To her relief, he laughed. ‘Point taken. Although this particular play isn’t overflowing with fun. I played Bassanio for the Royal Shakespeare Company a few years ago and he makes some terrible decisions that almost cost Antonio his life. But Portia steals the show. She’s resourceful, strong and clever – a bit like a certain potter I know.’
The unexpected praise caught Maura off guard. She dropped her head to the programme in her hand, flustered and pleased at the same time, hoping the sudden burst of warmth she wasexperiencing had not transferred to her cheeks. ‘Oh, shush,’ she said, although she couldn’t help smiling as she fired a sideways glance his way.
‘It’s true,’ he said mildly. ‘There are a few Shakespearean characters that remind me of you, actually.’
It was too much for Maura, who was still struggling to accept the previous compliment. She held up the programme and hid behind an obvious joke. ‘If you say Bottom, I’ll hit you with this.’
He smiled. ‘I was going to say Ariel, fromThe Tempest. At school, you always had this aura of otherworldliness about you, as though you slipped in and out of lessons when it suited you. I remember catching sight of you once or twice and not being sure whether you were real or a figment of my imagination. You were magical. Mysterious.’
The breath caught in Maura’s throat. She’d expected him to suggest Hermia, because one of the few times they had spoken at school had been after an English class where she’d read Hermia’s lines against his Lysander. But instead, he’d chosen Ariel, whose superpower was flitting in and out of the shadows, often staying invisible. It was quite a perceptive observation, Maura decided, given how distantly their worlds had orbited each other, although perhaps not as flattering as it first seemed, given that Ariel was male, despite often being played as female. But still – she hadn’t realised Fraser had noticed her at school. And he’d used the word ‘magical’. That was definitely pleasing, even if he must now have come to realise just how disappointingly ordinary she was.
She was saved from having to address any of it by the sudden dimming of the house lights. An expectant hush settled over the audience as faces turned towards the stage, leaving Maura relieved and discombobulated in equal measure.
‘Showtime,’ Fraser whispered, sounding so like a child on Christmas morning that she had to smile. It was probably a goodthing she hadn’t had time to respond to his revelation. At least now she couldn’t say anything embarrassing.
Even so, she was acutely aware of him beside her as the characters strode on stage. His shoulder pressed against hers in the narrow seats, his leg mere centimetres from her own in the darkness. If she turned her head a little to the right, she could see his rapt expression. When Bassanio appeared, Fraser’s lips silently moved as the actor delivered his lines.
Afraid he would catch her staring, Maura pinned her gaze to the action on stage and before long, the story drew her in. As Shakespeare’s brilliance wove its spell, she forgot who sat next to her; she forgot she was in a theatre. By the time the curtain fell for the interval, she was entirely invested in the characters’ predicaments. She knew, of course, how the play ended, but it was a testament to the excellent performances that she found herself worrying all the same.
Fraser was full of praise as they sipped their drinks in the bar, surrounded by the excited chatter of their fellow theatregoers. ‘Shylock is incredible,’ he said, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘It’s a tough role to get right, with modern sensibilities, but I found myself sympathising with him more than once.’
His face was alight, glowing with the same enthusiasm she had observed as they’d been watching the play. She’d never seen him quite so inspired, not even when he’d been immersed in telling ghost stories during the castle tour. ‘You must miss that,’ she said. ‘Delving into a meaty character, I mean. Really becoming them.’
The glow dimmed a little as he considered her words. ‘Yes and no. I don’t miss having to memorise hundreds of lines, that’s for sure, but it wasn’t all hard work. Once or twice I really felt as though I got under the skin of my character, so that it hardly felt like work at all.’ He took a pensive sip of his drink. ‘I miss that.’
‘Maybe you should think about going back to it,’ she said, and instantly felt it was the wrong thing to say. He’d confided more than once that acting hadn’t made him happy, no matter how much he might miss certain aspects of it.
But Fraser was eyeing her thoughtfully. ‘It’s funny you should say that.’ He puffed out a long breath, as though weighing up his next words. ‘An opportunity has come up – a possible film role in an upcoming production.’
A burst of excitement fizzed in the pit of Maura’s stomach at the unexpected news. ‘Really? But that’s amazing.’ She took in his neutral tone and tempered her own. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘It’s flattering,’ he said, shrugging. ‘The director is keen for me to do it – I don’t even have to audition and it’s the kind of offer I dreamed of for years.’
She stared at him, not sure she understood the problem. ‘If it’s a dream come true, then you should definitely do it. Who’s the director? Anyone I’ve heard of?’
He puffed out his cheeks. ‘Marco Minelli.’
‘Seriously?’ Maura squeaked. Was there a single person alive who couldn’t name a Minelli film? Even her dad had heard of him, and he rarely watched anything that didn’t involve a ball. ‘Bloody hell.’
‘You see my dilemma,’ Fraser sighed. ‘If I say no, I’m always going to wonder what it would have been like. But if I say yes…’
He trailed off, but Maura didn’t need him to finish the sentence to appreciate the enormity of what would happen if he took the role. He’d have to go on location, for a start, probably to America and for months on end, which would mean handing the ghost tour business over to someone else. And when the film came out, everything would change. He wouldn’t be able to walk down the street without being recognised. He’d be propelled into global stardom, with all the highs and lows that came with suchfame, hanging out with Hollywood A-listers and other beautiful, talented types.
A hot flush of realisation surged through Maura. He would be whisked far beyond her, no longer only a message away, because he wouldn’t have time to worry about pink-tinged ghosts or any of the other inconsequential concerns of his one-time business partner. In the whirl of his long-cherished dreams coming true, she would be forgotten, and her own barely acknowledged dream of a future with Fraser would be lost too.
