Esther had first learnt she’d been dumped by Marcus on the Monday. It was now Sunday, and she was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the front of the tabloid newspapers spread out before her. Each of them carried a similar picture of Marcus and his new love on the front page. Only the headlines varied, but by very little. Probably the most hurtful one was the quote from Marcus where he said: ‘At long last I’ve found my true soulmate’. Esther could hardly believe that one. She could remember Marcus saying the same thing to her at least three years earlier. She thought that perhaps when she was feeling stronger she might fax this information to Claudine, the new love of his life, but she knew in her heart that she wouldn’t. It simply wasn’t in her nature, and anyway she wouldn’t want to inflict the kind of hurt that she was feeling on to another woman, however deserving.
With a sigh she got up from the table and glanced out the window. Reporters and photographers were still gathered outside the tiny North London home that she and Marcus had shared for the past three years since leaving drama school. At first it had been a genuine ordeal to face them at all. It wasn’t as though the breakup had been amicable or even expected. Marcus hadn’t informed her that their relationship was even over. He had gone to America six months previously and had become an overnight star. He was now lined up for a major movie, and they had intended for Esther to join him as soon as she had finished filming her latest TV play.
The first she had known about his new girlfriend was when she had received a telephone call from a friend in America warning her that Marcus had been seen around a great deal with Claudine. That had been exactly twenty-four hours before the news had broken in England. Even now, Marcus had not had the decency to pick up the phone and tell Esther in person.
She knew that she had to go shopping this morning and that, once again, she would be pursued by the paparazzi, all clamouring and shouting at her, prompting quotes, and asking her how she was and what she was feeling. She wondered if they genuinely expected her to tell them the truth or if they were simply hoping to goad her into bursting into tears or breaking down in a heap, slumping on to the pavement to give them some of the wonderful pictures their editors were no doubt longing for. Being an actress, she had an advantage over other women in a similar situation; there was always a small part of her that stood back from what she was doing and watched her own performance. It was a trait she’d found rather disconcerting at first but now it was proving to be extremely useful. She knew that her performance as heartbroken but brave was becoming Oscar-worthy, and she wondered how she was going to differentiate between truth and reality in the future. How would she know, she wondered, when the true grief had worn off and she was merely putting on a mask to show the rest of the world how hurt she was? You’re disgusting, Esther, utterly disgusting, she told herself fiercely, but she couldn’t help it. She supposed it went with the profession.
The trip to the shop, which normally took her about five minutes, took twenty-five, and when she arrived back clutching her carrierbag of low-fat milk, low-fat spread, low-fat yoghurt and low-fat everything, she felt utterly exhausted as she slammed the door on the baying horde outside. It wasn’t that the pictures of the pencil-thin Claudine had made her particularly weight conscious, but all the same she decided it was time to be a little careful. She liked her curves – there had been a time when Marcus couldn’t keep his hands off them – but if she wanted to extend her range it would possibly be better if she were slightly less voluptuous. She suspected this display of virtue wouldn’t last very long but it gave her a small glow of satisfaction at the moment.
She ate a piece of toast and Marmite and a low-fat yoghurt while gazing at the pictures and rereading the articles. Finally, however, even she had had enough of reading about herself and Marcus. She gathered them all up, scrunched them into a pile and threw them into a corner. Just as she was wondering whether or not she could set light to them the telephone rang and she waited for the answerphone to click in so that she could work out whether or not she wanted to speak to the caller. She’d been screening her calls ever since the news broke. Journalists had been calling, and her mother hadn’t helped matters by saying that Marcus had always dominated her and had been holding her back in her career. Fellow actors and actresses had all expressed their sympathy, but Esther was sure they were gloating at the downfall of one half of the country’s young golden couple. There had been calls from genuine friends, though, and this proved to be just such a call. She was delighted to hear Lydia’s voice coming through the speaker. Quickly, she grabbed at the receiver.
‘Lydia, how lovely to hear from you. I’m sorry about the answerphone but I’m still being plagued by “Oh I’m so sorry” calls or “How are you feeling, Esther?” calls.’
‘That’s OK,’ laughed Lydia. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to pick the phone up yourself. I can imagine what it must be like at the moment. Actually I rang because I’ve heard some really exciting news and I think you might be interested.’
Esther couldn’t think of anything that would excite her at the moment, unless it was hearing that Marcus’s film contract had fallen through and Claudine had run off with a hunk of American beefcake. However, she was too polite to say this to Lydia who had been a friend to her for as long as she and Marcus had been together. ‘Do tell then,’ she said, mustering as much enthusiasm as possible into her voice.
‘It’s about Christopher Wheldon,’ Lydia said excitedly. ‘Apparently he’s decided to leave the RSC and set up his own theatre company. He wants to gather a few like-minded people around him and then tour the country putting on popular classics in the traditional style. He’s going to take them on the road to country homes and small theatres, as well as better-known venues. He says he’s going to bring the theatre back to the people.’
‘What does he mean by that?’ she queried.
‘You know perfectly well what he means,’ said Lydia, sounding a trifle annoyed. ‘It’s just the kind of thing that Marcus would have been interested in once, before he got carried away by all the Hollywood hype. Besides, I seem to remember that at drama school you were always saying that theatre was the only true form of acting.’
‘Did I really say that?’ asked Esther. She thought for a moment. ‘Yes, I believe I did. Well, everything changes and the truth of the matter is …’
‘The truth of the matter is,’ Lydia said firmly, ‘that Marcus has ruined your career. I hate to say this to you, Esther, but I think you’re really lucky he’s dumped you. I mean, I know it hurts and everything but you gave up all the things you wanted for him just so you could be at his side and then, the moment you’re not, what happens? He runs off with someone else, some French breadstick.’
Esther giggled. ‘You shouldn’t say that about her. She’s very attractive.’
‘She’s all right if you like them immaculately groomed, perfectly made-up and with a face like a blank canvas,’ said Lydia. ‘Personally I think he’s a fool. You’re worth ten of her but at least you’re free now. You can stop doing all those crap TV parts playing blonde bimbo girlfriends and show people that you can really act. It’s different for someone like me, I’m never going to get anywhere until I’m older. I’m far too plain to be anything but a character actress and to be a character actress you have to be forty. I shall spend most of my life waiting at tables until I’m old enough to be a character.’
Esther laughed again. Lydia was the only person who’d been able to make her laugh in the past week. ‘I don’t think that Marcus held me back at all,’ she said. ‘Everything that I did I chose to do. I must admit Christopher’s idea is rather intriguing, though. It would be nice not to have modern directors of the kind who make you play Ophelia in a mini skirt while all the men wear Armani suits.’
‘Exactly,’ Lydia said triumphantly. ‘And he’s going to do all the classics. He’s going to do Coward and Priestley, Shakespeare and Marlowe.’
‘How big’s this company going to be?’ asked Esther in astonishment.
‘Oh not that big; apparently they’re all going to be potted versions.’
‘If you ask me he’s a bit weird,’ said Esther. ‘Marcus never did like him.’
‘Marcus never liked anyone he thought might outshine him,’ Lydia pointed out.
‘But Christopher isn’t such a good actor as Marcus,’ protested Esther. ‘He thinks he is but he isn’t; just like he says he’s six feet tall and he isn’t. I don’t think he’s more than five ten.’
‘You should hear yourself,’ said Lydia. ‘You sound just like Marcus.’
Esther drew in her breath sharply. It was true that the opinions she was voicing were Marcus’s opinions and not her own. She wasn’t particularly keen on Christopher Wheldon but, on the other hand, she didn’t know him that well and she’d thought that his Henry V had been one of the best ever. ‘I suppose I could ring my agent and find out what’s needed in order to get an audition,’ she said slowly.
‘Just think how sick Marcus will be if he hears that you’re doing classical acting,’ crowed Lydia.
‘That isn’t why I’ll do it, if I do do it,’ Esther said crossly. ‘It’s just that I need something different to take my mind off Marcus and, by the sound of it, this would be different and keep me busy. Have you any idea how long his season will last?’
‘None at all,’ said Lydia. I’m not the sort of person who’s going to be involved. I only heard this on the grapevine but you can get all the details from your agent. Go for it, Esther, please, for my sake if no one else’s. This could open up a whole new world for you.’
‘I doubt if he’ll take me,’ Esther said. ‘I haven’t had much stage experience.’
‘Exactly, and that’s because of Marcus. Now do you accept my point?’ asked Lydia.
‘Not that it’s because of Marcus,’ said Esther, ‘but I agree that I have neglected the stage. Mind you, offers haven’t exactly poured in. It’s hard enough to get TV work. Anyway, I’ll ring my agent, find out all that I can, and let you know how I get on.’
‘That’s great,’ enthused Lydia. ‘I look forward to hearing from you, and remember, Marcus is the loser – not you.’
‘You’ll never guess what that was about,’ remarked Christopher Wheldon, replacing the telephone and looking across the bedroom to where Rebecca was lolling on the large four-poster bed.
‘Do tell,’ said Rebecca.
‘That was Esther Reid’s agent. Apparently Miss Reid would like to audition for my new company. What do you think about that?’
Rebecca shrugged, tossing her long shoulder-length dark hair back off her face and staring at him with slanted hazel eyes. ‘I didn’t know she could do stage work,’ she remarked. ‘I saw her in an absolutely dire TV play the other night.’
‘Never mind the play, what was she like?’ asked Christopher with interest.
‘Didn’t really think about it. She’s sort of curvy, blonde, pretty and vacant-looking.’
‘Meow!’ laughed Christopher, walking towards the bed. ‘Well I’ve said that she can come along and have a chat with me. I thought that sounded more polite than asking her to audition. After what Marcus has just done to her she’s probably anxious to get away from the public eye for a bit.’
‘She’s hardly going to get away from the public eye by joining a touring theatre company,’ Rebecca pointed out dryly.
‘I meant escape from the house, not be on TV so much, carve out a new career for herself,’ remarked Christopher.
Rebecca gazed up at him. He really was incredibly attractive. He had fair highlighted hair that flopped forward over his forehead, a handsome face, grey eyes and was very well built. He prided himself on keeping fit and it was one of the things she liked most about him. That and his enthusiasm for sex; an enthusiasm that was equally matched by her. She’d been a bit player at the RSC when they’d met two months earlier but, for some reason, Christopher had homed in on her and, like the rest of the company, she could hardly believe her good luck. However, having now got hold of him she had no intention of letting go.
She was, and she knew it, a very fine actress, but she was already aware that it would be unwise to make this clear too early to Christopher. She was more than willing to subjugate her performances when playing opposite him until he was thoroughly in her thrall; only then would she allow him to see how talented she really was. For a man like Christopher Wheldon there was only room for one star – and that star had to be him.
Rebecca also knew how furious he was at Marcus’s success in America. Christopher had been certain that after his successes at the RSC he would be snapped up by Hollywood scouts and whisked off following in the footsteps of Kenneth Branagh and Ralph Fiennes. Unfortunately, Marcus had beaten him to it and now Christopher, by creating his own company, was making it clear that fame and fortune were not everything. In other words he was hiding his own disappointment and at the same time telling the great theatre-going public in Britain, ‘Look at me. I’m loyal, I’m true and I’m not lured away by money.’ Rebecca assumed that Christopher must imagine the public wouldn’t know that he had never been offered any money. In fact, Hollywood had shown no interest in him at all.
‘Are you going to get Esther Reid to audition for you once she arrives,’ she asked. ‘If so, what are you going to make her do?’
Christopher sighed. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it,’ he murmured.
Rebecca found this hard to believe. Christopher never did anything without thinking about it and she was very surprised that he was even considering allowing Esther to join their company. She couldn’t imagine what his reason was but she had no doubt that he had one.
She hadn’t yet dressed, although it was past midday, and she noticed that Christopher’s eyes were lingering on the amount of bosom that was revealed by the plunging neckline of her crimson satin nightdress. She looked up at him trying to gauge his mood. Christopher liked two kinds of sex, and it was important that she caught his mood correctly.
Sometimes, he liked to dominate her. She sensed that some of her attraction for him lay in her slender bones and long neck. He got a huge sexual thrill from wrapping his large fingers around her wrists and sometimes clasping his hands tightly round her neck as though about to strangle her. But there were other times, usually late at night after a few drinks, when the real Christopher began to show through, then things would change entirely and Christopher would want Rebecca to take charge.
These were the times Rebecca enjoyed the most. The surge of power she felt when she had Christopher at her mercy, those blissful moments when he would be moaning and begging or grovelling at her feet, provided the most exciting sex she’d had so far. One thing she understood very clearly was that this private side of Christopher – this need to be dominated – was a side that she must never discuss with anyone or she would be cast out, not only from Christopher’s life but possibly from the whole world of acting. Christopher Wheldon held a great deal of power. He could open doors for people and he could also slam them shut in their face. Rebecca had no intention of having any doors slammed in her face.
‘You’re not jealous of Esther are you?’ asked Christopher, sitting on the bed and running a finger lightly down the inside of Rebecca’s right arm.
‘Why on earth should I be jealous of Esther?’ asked Rebecca in astonishment. ‘After all, what’s she ever done except TV work and go out with Marcus Martin?’
Christopher’s hand wandered higher up Rebecca’s arm, lingering on the fine-boned shoulders and then stroking the flesh across her collarbone. ‘Come to that, what have you ever done except go out with me?’ he queried.
‘Well, she simply isn’t the kind of person that arouses any feeling in me except contempt,’ Rebecca said sharply.
Christopher laughed. ‘I think you’re lying to me,’ he said softly. ‘I don’t think you want Esther to join our company. I think you’re afraid I might fall for her.’
Rebecca wanted to laugh but she realised that Christopher was serious. He genuinely wanted Rebecca to start feeling jealous about Esther, and from this she reasoned he must be intending to let Esther join the company. Well, she wasn’t jealous of Esther, and she couldn’t imagine for one moment that Esther would provide the kind of sexual thrills that Christopher wanted. Nevertheless, if this was what he wanted then she was willing to play the game.
‘Perhaps I’m just a tiny bit jealous,’ she admitted in a soft voice.
Christopher slid his hands up her throat, caressing beneath the base of her chin with his thumbs and at the same time drawing her upright so their faces were close together. ‘I knew it,’ he said triumphantly. ‘Well, don’t worry, Rebecca. At the moment I’m perfectly satisfied with you.’
He leant towards her. Rebecca closed her eyes and felt his mouth start to plunder hers. His tongue probed fiercely between her lips, and one of his hands strayed down inside her nightdress to tweak sharply on her nipple. Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat and her body instinctively drew away from him a fraction but he pulled her back tightly and his fingers closed around her breast. Her desire was mounting rapidly now and her breathing grew quicker. She sometimes wished that she could resist him just a little longer, make him work harder, but his sheer physical magnetism and the knowledge that she was with the great Christopher Wheldon always proved too much for her self-control.
With a soft moan she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down on top of her. Christopher tugged sharply at the hem of her nightdress until it rose up above her thighs. She heard the sound of him unzipping his trousers and then he was lying on top of her. She could feel him hard against her, the tip of his penis rubbing against her outer sex lips. Rebecca began to move her hips, arching them upwards, trying to spread her legs further apart despite the restrictions of the nightdress. Christopher pushed her back down on to the bed.
‘Don’t be in such a hurry. You’re always greedy aren’t you, Rebecca?’ he teased, his tongue flicking in and out of her ear.
‘I can’t help it,’ moaned Rebecca, wriggling frantically as she felt his erection sliding slowly into her. ‘Please, please hurry.’
Sometimes Christopher liked to make her wait, but this was not one of those times because he was in a hurry too. Within a few seconds he was thrusting forcefully into her and, as he moved, the hand that was gripping her breast squeezed and released in matching time with the movements of his hips. Rebecca felt her orgasm starting to build but she needed something else, something extra, if she was to climax as fast as she knew Christopher was going to.
Suddenly, Christopher stopped moving, wrenched the nightdress higher so that it was bunched round Rebecca’s waist, and slipped a hand beneath her bottom. With a grateful sigh Rebecca allowed her feelings to take over as Christopher carefully inserted his forefinger between the cheeks of her bottom. He moved it lightly around the rim of her second opening and then, as he felt all her muscles tense in their pre-orgasmic explosion, he gave two extra powerful thrusts with his hips and at the same time pressed firmly against the wall of her rectum. With a scream of delight Rebecca climaxed and, at the same time, Christopher uttered a shout of pleasure before collapsing on top of her.
For a few minutes he lay there, his head resting in her neck, her long dark hair covering his shoulders. But, as usual, once he’d finished he’d finished, and was ready to move on to other things. Sometimes Rebecca wished that he would lie longer with her, but that only ever happened after the other kind of sex – the kind where she took control. This particular day was no exception, and within ten minutes Christopher was walking out of the bedroom and leaving her, presumably to make arrangements for his meeting with Esther.
Three days later Esther arrived at the small community hall in Clapham where her agent had arranged for her to meet with Christopher Wheldon. She felt very nervous, and realised that part of the apprehension was fear of how Christopher would behave towards her. Marcus had never made any secret of his feelings for Christopher, and had given several interviews in which he had referred to his rival in somewhat scathing terms. While Esther herself had never spoken about Christopher, she realised it was probable he would assume she shared Marcus’s views.
She’d quite expected to find several other people waiting in the hall but there was only Christopher. He was standing at the opposite end of the room and, when he heard the door opening, turned so that he was caught in a ray of sunlight shining through a window high above him. Esther realised at once that Christopher had arranged this deliberately. It certainly showed him to full advantage. She hadn’t appreciated quite how boyishly good-looking he was and, when he smiled at her, she realised that he did indeed have a great deal of charm, even if it wasn’t necessarily genuine.
‘Esther, how lovely to see you!’ he exclaimed.
‘It’s very nice of you to see me,’ responded Esther. ‘As my agent told you, I haven’t done stage work for a long time and I’m afraid I might be a bit rusty.’
‘I shouldn’t worry about that,’ laughed Christopher, walking towards her with his hand outstretched. ‘By the time we’ve all rehearsed and got used to one another I’m sure that any rough edges will have disappeared. Besides, you’ve been doing a lot of television work and I admire that. It’s a very demanding discipline.’
Esther was surprised to hear this. As far as she knew, Christopher regarded television drama in any form as little better than appearing in a commercial. Nevertheless, she appreciated his kindness and the effort he was making to help her feel at ease. ‘My agent didn’t tell me whether I should prepare a piece for you to hear,’ she explained awkwardly.
‘I really only wanted us to have a little chat,’ said Christopher. ‘I tell you what, though, perhaps it would be a good idea if you and I read something through. That way we’ll get an idea of how we work together and, let’s face it, in a company the size of the one I’m hoping to have it’s important that everyone gets along with everyone else. Really and truly this is going to be ensemble acting.’
Esther’s heart sank. She loathed the term ensemble acting and knew perfectly well that Christopher didn’t mean what he was saying. No one with an ego like his would have any intention of merging into the background. He didn’t expect to be part of a team; he expected to be the star, and everyone else in his company was presumably expected to help him shine brightly. She didn’t mind this, though, and indeed she had fully accepted that this was how it would be. What she did object to was Christopher trying to pretend it would be otherwise.
‘Well?’ queried Christopher. ‘What do you say?’
Esther gave him a shy smile. ‘Did you have anything special in mind?’ she asked.
‘As a matter of fact, yes I did,’ said Christopher briskly as his boyish charm dropped away from him, leaving behind the intense actor that she had been expecting to meet in the first place. ‘I thought we’d try a piece from Hamlet, Act III scene 1. You can be Ophelia opposite my Hamlet of course!’
Esther was horrified. Like most actresses she had always thought Ophelia a thankless task. She seemed to go from slight depression to total madness at incredible speed, and it was almost impossible to make her believable.
‘Do you have a problem with that?’ asked Christopher.
‘No, of course not,’ Esther said hastily. ‘Do you have a copy here? I’m afraid it isn’t a part I know very well. I mean, I’ve never played it or anything.’ ‘I don’t suppose you’ve played any of the parts that I have in mind for you if you do join the company,’ said Christopher. ‘All this really is is a test to see how you and I rub along together. You see, I’m actually very anxious to have you on board and, as long as the reading goes reasonably well, then I think you can safely assume that you’ll be part of my company.’
Esther was amazed. This wasn’t the way auditions went in the normal course of affairs, and it certainly wasn’t the way she’d expected this one to go. It seemed that provided she didn’t actually trip over her tongue and make a complete fool of herself then Christopher was going to make her part of his company, despite the fact that in the theatre-going public’s minds she and Marcus were probably still inextricably linked.
Christopher handed a copy of Hamlet to Esther. ‘I’ve marked the place,’ he said encouragingly. ‘We’ll start from where I finish my speech “the fair Ophelia. Nymph in thy orisons be all of my sins remember’d”.’
Esther glanced at the book, her eyes running swiftly down the page. It was absolutely ghastly. She couldn’t think what she was going to do with it, and was horribly aware that Ophelia was going to sound an utter drip. Remembering all her drama school training she slowed down her breathing, relaxed her muscles, and mentally prepared for the reading.
‘Good my lord, how does your honour for this many a day?’ Once she’d begun she found it easier than she’d expected. For one thing, Christopher was giving a very good reading of Hamlet. He wasn’t simply reading the lines, feeding her cues in order that she could do her speeches. He was acting the part and this made it much easier for her to respond. By the time she came to her last lines, ‘Oh! Woe is me, to have seen what I have seen, see what I see!’, she knew she’d done a far better job than she would have imagined possible half an hour earlier.
Closing the book, she looked at Christopher and he smiled broadly at her. ‘There,’ he said with pleasure. ‘That was pretty good, wasn’t it? I think you’d make a very good Ophelia. Well, is there anything you’d like to ask me?’
Esther wondered if this meant that she was definitely in. She assumed that it did and there were a lot of questions that she wanted to ask him, but some of them she felt it better to save until he had definitely confirmed the fact she would be on board. ‘I was wondering how many people were going to be in your company?’ she asked.
‘Twelve of us in all,’ explained Christopher. ‘Six men and six women. Most of us will be young. I only need a couple of character actors, one male and one female; the other ten will all be young and, to be honest with you, they’ve got to be quite good-looking, especially the girls. There aren’t many parts for unattractive women in any of the plays that I intend to put on. Also I want them to be ambitious; you need that hunger in order to get good performances.’
Esther agreed, but she also realised that Christopher’s desire to be surrounded by six attractive young women was probably based more on personal need than on the needs of the playwrights. It was quite easy with the aid of make-up to make fairly ordinary girls appear highly attractive. However, she wasn’t going to argue with him. It didn’t matter to her what the girls looked like as long as she was given parts that would really show off her capabilities as an actress.
‘Were there any particular plays you had in mind or haven’t you decided that yet?’ she asked.
‘Well, I’ve settled on what’s going to be the mainstay,’ explained Christopher, ‘and that’s going to be Priestley’s Time and the Conways. What do you think of Priestley’s time plays?’ he added.
‘I rather like them,’ admitted Esther. ‘I suppose my favourite is An Inspector Calls but I do like Time and the Conways.’
‘What role do you think you’d be best suited for?’ queried Christopher, smiling at her encouragingly.
‘Perhaps Hazel,’ suggested Esther. ‘It’s quite challenging because she has to change so much. I mean at the beginning she’s young and pretty and has the world at her feet but by the end it’s all gone wrong for her, hasn’t it?’
‘Well yes,’ agreed Christopher. ‘And I suppose you could play it, but actually I’m considering you for Kay.’
Esther was amazed. Kay was a larger part and had some long monologues. She’d always pictured Kay as being tall, elegant and somehow less curvy than she was. Also, by the end of the play Kay has a kind of melancholy about her that wasn’t something Esther associated with herself. She supposed it was rather flattering she was being considered for the part, but then realised that he might well be saying this to all the girls.
‘How would you feel about playing Kay?’ persisted Christopher.
‘Well, of course I’d love it,’ said Esther. ‘Any actress would jump at the chance to play Kay. I’m a little taken aback, that’s all.’
‘Well that’s fine,’ said Christopher. ‘Anyway, there’s a lot to be settled before we start casting plays and, to carry on with answering your question, I’m also hoping to do some Coward, probably Private Lives. The problem with that is there’s only four people of any importance in it, but I thought we’d probably vary the cast from venue to venue. Then there’ll be some potted Shakespeare, you know, like potted operas – they’re all the fashion these days. To be perfectly honest, if we’re touring some of the smaller towns, people won’t want the uncut Hamlet or the entire Henry V. They’ll probably want all of Macbeth, though. I find that no matter where you go the public enjoy plenty of blood and gore. Also, thank God, there isn’t much comedy to deal with in that. That’s a real killer when it comes to modern audiences.’
‘It all sounds very exciting,’ said Esther. ‘Are there any big venues planned or haven’t you decided on them yet?’
For the first time Christopher looked a little vague. ‘That’s rather up in the air at the moment,’ he admitted. ‘The thing is though, once I’ve got my full company together and decided for certain on the plays which – apart from Time and the Conways – are still fairly flexible, then I can’t approach managers of theatres anywhere because I can’t tell them exactly what we’ll be doing. I don’t imagine it’s going to be a problem though. I don’t wish to sound immodest, but I do feel that my name counts for something in this country.’
After all her years with Marcus, Esther knew her cues very well when it came to this kind of conversation. ‘I don’t think you’re being immodest, Christopher,’ she said with a smile. ‘It would be very silly of you to pretend that you weren’t a famous name.’
‘The problem is,’ Christopher said slowly, ‘that I’m not a TV name. These days I regret to say that it’s the stars of TV who put bums on seats. It’s a terrible state of affairs but something we’ve got to face up to.’
‘Does that mean you’re hoping to have some TV stars in the company?’ asked Esther.
‘Absolutely not,’ said Christopher. ‘I’m just explaining that we may not always play to full houses in some of the smaller towns.’
‘That’s not a problem for me,’ said Esther. ‘Unlike you I’m not used to playing to full houses in theatres. After the RSC, though, this is going to be something of a challenge for you, isn’t it?’
‘It’s going to be a challenge in more ways than one,’ said Christopher with a wry smile. At that moment his eyes locked on to Esther’s and what she saw there astonished her. Christopher was most definitely showing that he found her attractive and his words indicated that she, like the whole venture, was part of the challenge he had just mentioned.
‘Well, perhaps you’d let me know when you’ve decided for sure,’ she, said hastily, getting up from her chair and throwing the strap of her canvas bag over her shoulder.
‘I obviously haven’t made myself clear,’ said Christopher in surprise. ‘I’ve already made up my mind about you, Esther. I want you to join my company. The only question is, are you interested in me?’
Esther tried not to look too excited. Inside she was bubbling with delight, but she knew better than to show it. ‘It all sounds very interesting and, as soon as I’ve spoken to my agent, one of us will be in touch with you,’ she said with her most dazzling smile.
‘Fair enough,’ Christopher agreed amicably and then, as she was about to leave, he put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her lightly on both cheeks. This in itself was nothing unusual but, when he’d finished, he allowed his hands to slide down the sides of her arms before he released her. This apparently insignificant gesture caused tiny flickers of excitement deep within her.
As Esther walked out of the hall, her cheeks flushed a becoming shade of pink, Christopher Wheldon smiled to himself with satisfaction. He’d been going to take Esther into his company anyway, no matter how bad her reading. In fact, to his surprise, she’d been unexpectedly good. That was a bonus. The real reason for her inclusion was that he was determined to make Marcus realise that in giving up Esther and going out with Claudine he had made the wrong decision. If everything went as Christopher planned then by the end of this tour the Hollywood scouts would be clamouring at his front door, and when he finally flew off to America he would have Esther by his side. It would be the ultimate revenge.
It was seven o’clock that evening before Christopher returned to the house that he and Rebecca shared in London. She was already waiting, fully dressed, ready to go out to dinner that evening. It was only then that Christopher remembered the party they were meant to be attending.
‘God, I’m sorry, Becky, everything’s been complete chaos today,’ he called as he dashed upstairs for a quick shower. He saw with relief that Rebecca had laid out his dinner jacket, shirt and tie on the bed so that all he had to do was literally wash and go. She followed him up the stairs. Her ankle-length embroidered silk dress – sleeveless and with a square neckline – clung to her like a second skin. Round her neck she had a tiny black and crystal necklace, an antique that he had bought her to celebrate two months together. She was wearing very high-heeled strappy shoes and, by the time he had showered and was dressing, Rebecca was pulling on a pair of elbow-length black gloves. Christopher gave a sigh of pleasure. This was exactly how he liked Rebecca to look in preparation for one of their special evenings together.
‘Can’t wait for the party to end,’ he remarked casually.
‘That sounds promising,’ said Rebecca, a half-smile playing around her lips. She had planned this in advance, well aware that Christopher would have spent the entire day interviewing countless beautiful young women for his company. It was important that tonight she reaffirmed her status as his lover.
They returned home at one in the morning. Christopher had been quiet in the taxi and, once they were inside the house, he turned to Rebecca. ‘I hope you’re going to be nice to me tonight,’ he said softly.
‘I don’t think I will be,’ Rebecca said. ‘You didn’t behave very well tonight.’
Christopher looked suitably chastened, and Rebecca’s pulse began to quicken. This was going to be an exciting evening. ‘What did I do wrong?’ he asked.
‘You spent far too much time talking to the other girls and ignoring me,’ Rebecca said angrily. ‘I think you’re going to have to be punished.’
Turning on her heel she walked swiftly up the stairs, well aware of the provocative sight that she would be presenting from where Christopher was standing in the hallway. Walking into the bedroom she began peeling off her long gloves and, as she did so, Christopher joined her in the room.
‘You’re right,’ he said in a little-boy voice. ‘I did behave badly, and I think you should punish me.’
‘Right then,’ said Rebecca. ‘Take your clothes off and hang them up tidily.’ Christopher obeyed with alacrity. Within a couple of minutes he was entirely naked, standing in front of her with his erection already fully formed. Apart from removing her gloves Rebecca was still fully clothed. She glanced down at the glistening purple glans and her upper lip curled scornfully.
‘I don’t think we want to see that, thank you,’ she remarked.
Christopher hastily covered himself with both hands. Rebecca stepped forward and slapped his hands away.
‘I didn’t mean for you to hide it. I meant I wanted it to go away,’ she said coldly. ‘I shall have to see what I can do about it, won’t I?’
‘I’m very sorry,’ murmured Christopher, brushing his hair back off his forehead in an awkward gesture.
‘You certainly will be,’ promised Rebecca. At her words, Christopher’s excitement grew even more visible and Rebecca had to turn away to hide her satisfaction. ‘Lie face down on the bed,’ she ordered him. Without a protest Christopher did as she asked. ‘Now spread yourself out in the shape of an X,’ continued Rebecca and, once Christopher’s wrists and arms were in the right position, she fastened them to the four corners of the bedposts with long silk scarves.
Christopher turned his head and looked up at her. ‘What are you going to do?’ he asked, sounding rather too eager for Rebecca’s liking. Leaning over him, she drew one long fingernail down the centre of his spine, leaving a thin red line in its wake. Christopher’s whole body shivered with delight.
‘I’m going to do something very special,’ Rebecca said at last. ‘Something that I only do when I’m very, very cross with you.’
Christopher gave a soft sigh and then uttered a tiny yelp as Rebecca tugged on his long fair hair, lifting his face off the pillow so that she could stare into those magnetic grey eyes. ‘Right,’ she said with frightening gentleness. ‘Now I think we can get down to business.’