Page 81 of Sorry I Missed You

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Rebecca

The play was set in Brooklyn in the 1950s and was about the dynamics between members of an Italian/American family who were struggling with life and love. Jack’s ex, Nathalie, was brilliant and during the curtain call she winked at Jack and he whooped and I felt part of something, as though I suddenly had exclusive access to a secret world. I could see why Jack loved it so much, and how rewarding it must be to give such an amazing performance that the audience gave you a standing ovation afterwards.

‘What did you reckon?’ asked Jack, sitting back down in his seat and turning to me.

I pulled my bag onto my lap, picking my empty wine glass up off the floor. The audience were talking in hushed voices sprinkled with the tinkle of laughter and I noticed people looking longingly at the stage as though they didn’t want to leave this make-believe world they’d been part of for the last two and a half hours.

‘I loved it,’ I said. ‘The cast were so good. I don’t know how you lot do it!’

I’d forgotten how seeing a play could toy with your emotions like that; how it could make you see something in a different way. The world of corporate marketing felt dry and soulless in comparison – I wasn’t about to run off and be an artist or anything, but I could definitely see the appeal.

‘Have you got any jobs coming up yourself?’ I asked him.

He nodded, looking at me, his face probably the closest to mine it had ever been. He had lovely smooth skin and the most perfect eyebrows. ‘I got offered a part in a fringe play today, actually,’ he said.

‘Congratulations,’ I said. ‘Are you pleased?’

‘Yeah. I think so. Also, I got approached by another agent the other night. I think I might set up a meeting.’

I watched the last of the remaining audience members leave the auditorium. We were completely alone now, the air thick with silence, a contrast to the explosion of music and sound and dialogue that had dominated the space for most of the evening.

‘What’s wrong with your current agent?’

Jack rubbed his jaw. ‘He’s at the top of his game. Represents half of Hollywood.’

‘Isn’t that a good thing?’

‘That’s what I thought initially. But then I realised that it means he basically has no time for people like me.’

‘Ah,’ I said. ‘It’s a small fish in a big pond type of thing?’

Jack laughed. ‘Thanks for branding me a small fish.’

I looked down at the glass in my lap. ‘Sorry.’

That had come out all wrong. I just meant that’s how he must feel, not that he was an actual small fish. From what he’d told me, it sounded like he was very good and just needed a break.

‘It’s fine,’ he said, nudging me in the ribs.

The air around us suddenly became even stiller, the only sound being the chatter from the bar, the faraway clinking of wine glasses.

‘We should go, I suppose,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ I replied, spotting the ushers hovering with black bags, ready to clear up.

‘It’s been … nice to get to know you a bit,’ he said, looking out at the stage.

‘Definitely,’ I agreed.

‘Fancy a quick drink at the bar?’ he asked.

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Why not?’

The two of us stood up and Jack steered me towards the exit, his hand placed lightly on my back again, which felt surprisingly comforting. I was having such a good time. It was doing me good to get out of the flat, to not think about the things my mind was usually preoccupied with, like was my nan OK, had not interviewing for the job been a massive mistake, had Tyler ever been remotely interested in me for anything other than sex, and if not, did it really matter anyway? The play had taken me out of myself; for a brief time, I’d been caught up in somebody else’s (albeit fictional) life instead and conversation with Jack flowed so easily that I hadn’t thought about anything else except having a nice time here, with him.

‘Jack, mate!’ said a guy appearing beside us. He slapped Jack really hard on the back, which I thought must have hurt.

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