There’s such a party atmosphere in the air long after the finale. Everyone piles into the Nell to celebrate an unusually high-drama filled night—even by Duke’s standards. Students are spilling out onto the road by the time I leave stage door. Fletch takes my hand and we walk together, like a couple. It feels a bit strange, seeing as we haven’t talked about any of this yet.
Alec, Kiki, and Leon bound up to us at the bar.
“Aaaaaaagh! You guys were amazing!” yells Kiki, throwing her whole self around me and spinning me around until I can’t see. “That was the most awesome show, like, in the history of Duke’s! It’s going to be one of those shows that people wish they were at, for hundreds of years.”
“And you were responsible for making it happen,” says Leon to her.
I look at him, confused.
“I distracted Natasha with loads of questions about Clair Patterson’s number,” says Kiki. “I knew it would work. Natasha’s so far up Clair’s arse I’m surprised she can even see the choreography.”
“It was the perfect ruse,” says Leon.
“Then I snuck through to front of house to hijack the guys on the live-feed desk,” says Kiki. I can tell she’s proud of this.
“And they let you?” I say.
“We’d already told them what to do,” says Alec.
“Also I think the bloke in charge fancied me,” she says.
I’m confused. “When did you do that? And how did you convince them to set up an extra camera in the booth?”
“I just told them it would be a good marketing opportunity,” says Alec. “The show’s gone viral, Nettie. It’s already had a hundred thousand hits on YouTube. Did you notice they’d put their name at the bottom of the screen when it flipped to you?”
“I was quite distracted, if you remember.”
Alec laughs. “Well, it’s been great advertising for them.”
Michael St. John comes over, a little tipsy. He grabs my cheeks and kisses me on the head, sloshing his drink all over the floor. “I knew you could do it, Nettie.”
“Wait, how did you know?”
“Darling girl,” says Alec. “I know I’m the most capable person on the planet, but sometimes you need a bit of authority on your side. I had to enlist Michael.”
“You were in on it?” I say.
“We had to keep Natasha busy after Kiki went front of house,” he says. “Let’s just say I had a lot of notes for her.” He drains his now nearly empty champagne glass. “I love a theatrical drama, and this was irresistible. So, as I think we can safely say you’re cured, Nettie, Miss Duke and I would like you to reclaim the role for the rest of the run.”
Alec and Leon do a Disney Channel high five, and Fletch puts his arm around my shoulders.
“I knew there was something going on between you two.” Michael does a mini-point at both of us.
“Omigod,” says Kiki. “They’re, like, meant to be.”
Well, this is embarrassing.
Fletch looks down at me and says, “Wanna get out of here?”
“Yup.”
We turn and leave the pub. People congratulate us and pat us on the back as we go (I must do at least six high fives). We come out onto the quiet street. It’s a warm evening, and Covent Garden smells of cigarette smoke, garlic, and restaurant grills. I feel like I’m on holiday.
“How did Natasha and Jade force you to go in the booth?” says Fletch.
“They were blackmailing me.”
“What reason could they possibly find to blackmail you?”
“I told Miss Moore to go fuck herself. It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got all night.”
We start walking, heading down to Waterloo Bridge and across the river. The last of the day is fading over Westminster and the first stars are twinkling in the sky. At the South Bank, we stop and sit on a wall near the National Theatre—tonight illuminated by a giant rainbow projection.
“So, you got my letter?”
“I did.”
“When did you know it was me?”
“Only after Jade came in, like you said. I actually thought it was her playing until then.”
Fletch almost chokes with laughter. “Jade? Seriously?”
“Yeah, and I thought you were together.”
“Why would you think that?” he says. “Aside from anything else, I can’t believe you thought I would go for a girl like that. She’s pretty mean.”
“Well, she did say you were the ‘new love’ of her life, and that she couldn’t wait to spend time with her ‘new man.’ What was I supposed to think?”
“Well, that we’d just been cast as the romantic leads in Guys and Dolls?” says Fletch.
“It sounded like more than that,” I say. “Fletch, can I ask you something?”
“As long as it’s not, ‘How can you fall in love with a voice?’” he says, rolling his eyes with embarrassment.
“Er, yeah—it was that.”
“I really don’t know.” He winces. “I feel quite embarrassed about it now. Believe me, I’ve asked myself the same question. Maybe I kind of sensed it was you, even if I didn’t know it was you… Nettie, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why didn’t you fall in love with my terrible piano playing, and how much practice do I have to do to ensure you’re mine forever?”
I laugh. “Your piano playing is really good. Why did you tell me you couldn’t play?”
“I guess it’s not my strongest point. I have to practice—a lot. Michael’s been coaching me, but he’s never happy. I think it rubs off.”
He takes my hand and I get a small whoosh of adrenaline. The good kind, not the kind that paralyzes you with fear and stops you doing things. God knows I’m the expert.
I smile. “It’s OK—I’m a sucker for a guitar.”
“Thank God for that.”
We walk and walk, eventually coming back over Charing Cross footbridge, up Villiers Street and through Chinatown. Fletch has his arm around my shoulders; I’m leaning into him. We find ourselves back in Soho Square, looking down Frith Street, past Duke’s toward Old Compton Street. It’s 4 AM and the last hardcore partiers are toppling into Balans for breakfast before catching the first train home to bed. I think about the last time we were here. So much has changed since then.
“Duke’s is different at night,” says Fletch. “Like a dark theatre.” We walk up to the front doors and stand there together, looking in.
“From now on, it’s us, OK?” says Fletch. He holds me around the waist and draws me toward him. “I can’t lose you again, Nettie.” He kisses my eyes, one after the other.
Then he picks me up and kisses me on the mouth, and it feels like a first kiss—tender and warm and soft and new. Around us, Soho carries on noisily, ignoring the couple locked together on the corner of the square, oblivious to everything but the sound of their own music.