Page 56 of Oz
His voice is rich and even but there’s a slight undercurrent to it. I want to say jealousy, but I’m probably wrong.
“He’s been my best friend since school. He and his boyfriend Richard are my closest friends.”
It’s not my imagination that his body relaxes. He flashes me a smile and comes to a stop.
“Ta da!” he says, indicating a sign with a flourish.
I lean forward. “The Minack Theatre,” I read. I look up. “There’s a theatre right at the edge of England. That’s cool.”
“It’s amazing. But it’s not an ordinary theatre. Minack means rocky.”
I nudge him. “Like the boxer?”
He grins. “Yes. At the end of England there is a small theatre dedicated to Sylvester Stallone, that brilliant classically trained actor of stage and screen. Don’t tell anyone or we’ll have a cult.”
I laugh, and we join the throng of people moving down a winding path. The borders are full of fragrant plants and the air is full of excitement. We join a queue and I wait patiently as he pays for some tickets at a booth, then grabs my hand and pulls me after him. I look down at his fingers clasping mine and just have time to think how much I like this, when he comes to a stop and I look down and gasp.
The theatre is actually an amphitheatre set into the rocks. Rows of seats carved from stone and set into the side of the cliff tier down to a stone stage. People are moving and settling into their seats, their clothes a colourful exclamation mark to a place that belongs to a three-tone colour scheme with the green of the grass, the pale stone, and the deep blue sea that stretches out as far as I can see.
I turn to find him looking at me with a soft expression on his face.
“This is amazing,” I say quietly. I look down at the sea breaking onto rocks. “It’s almost like being in Ancient Greece.”
His face breaks into a wide, relieved grin. “Really? I’m so glad you like it. It’s not to everyone’s taste.”
“Why?”
“Well, because it’s a bit rustic. You’re out in the open so if it spits with rain you get it. There aren’t cushioned seats and curtains.”
I shake my head. “Have you tried bringing people here before?” I hold my breath because I don’t want to know I’m not the first.
“No,” he says, staring down at the busy scene. “I knew enough not to bother.”
I exhale my sigh of relief. “So, why me?”
“Because you’re different,” he says slowly. “And somehow I knew you’d like it.”
I cosy into the side of him and rest my head on his shoulder, looking out at the view and loving the way his arm instantly comes down over my shoulder and drags me even closer. “Well, you were right,” I say quietly. “I’m glad I’m the first.”
His hand tightens and then he releases me. “Let’s go and grab our seats. The performance is starting in ten minutes.”
“What are we watching?” I ask as we join the people heading towards the steps.
“The Tempest. Is that okay? Do you like Shakespeare?”
“I do. I did him for A-Level and we had a school trip to see one in the West End. I loved it that much I dragged Shaun to a few more.” I laugh. “I’m not sure it was his cup of tea, to be honest. He used the theatre as a viable alternative to bed and just went to sleep. But I loved it.”
He pulls me towards the steps. They’re stone and quite steep, and although he takes them easily it’s more of a stretch for me with shorter legs, but he waits patiently, a smile of happiness on his face that’s hard to resist.
We reach the aisle he indicates and slip in at the end. We’re halfway up, with a perfect view of the stage. There’s an excited chatter around us as people settle onto the seats. Silas reaches into his bag and pulls out a large thermos flask and two paper cups. “I’ve got some rosé wine in here.”
I smirk and hold the empty cups he hands to me so he can pour the wine. “Won’t we be caught?”
He laughs. “No. Everyone does it.” I look around and grin when I see an extraordinary amount of thermos flasks being handed around.
He pulls out a brown paper bag that’s giving out a heavenly smell. “Are those Maggie’s vegetable pasties?” I ask reverently.
He grins. “Two each. They’re my favourites. And after that I’ve got two slices of Mrs Granger’s apple cake.”
