There was no getting away from it, Nate was bored. Really, really bored. It was Wednesday evening and he’d been here for a few days, inside all the time. He hadn’t been this inactive since breaking his leg trying to leap off a building. He’d landed half on, half off the inflatable stunt bag and it had really, really hurt. At least he wouldn’t be out for as long as that. Hopefully.
Robin had given strict instructions to stay indoors and out of sight. If the papers found out where he was, they’d be there like a shot. Nate stretched and strode around the living room. The mantelshelf was filled with photos of Gregory and Cecil together, but over on the bookcase he spied pictures of Gregory with famous actors, some of whom had been idols of his own. And they weren’t just fan photos, they were photos of colleagues, smiling and laughing together. Impressive. Picking up his phone he wandered to the kitchen and switched on the kettle for yet another cup of tea.
His hand reached for his mobile phone, temptation niggling at him. It was taking all Nate’s resolve to not find out what the world was saying about him. It wasn’t the world, of course, he reminded himself. He wasn’t an A-list Hollywood celeb. But still, curiosity was gnawing at him. He sat down at the kitchen table and tapped a rhythm with his index finger. Gregory and Cecil had gone out to their amateur dramatics group and Nate smiled as he remembered his first acting experiences with the local am dram when he was 15. It had started him on this career path, sowing the seeds of his love of theatre. Then onto RADA. His eyes glanced down towards his phone again and he wondered what his old teachers would be thinking about this mess.
Nate studied the kitchen decor to distract himself. He really quite liked Gregory and Cecil’s cottage. The kitchen units were painted in pale blue or sea green, and a powder-blue range cooker took centre stage. There was even a porcelain butler’s sink. The place was bigger than he’d imagined it would be too, and the period fireplaces and unique seaside touches like rope banisters were stylish. From sitting out in the garden he’d noticed the air smelt different down here too. Not just when the tide was high or the breeze picked up carrying the smell of the sea, but in general the air was clearer and lighter than it was in London. It was just too hot to stay inside the whole time.
A sudden ringing broke the peacefulness of his thoughts and Nate answered it, glad it was Marcus, his best friend. He hoped Marcus wasn’t blaming himself because it had been at his stagdo he’d met Hannah.
‘Nate? Where the hell are you, man?’
‘Hey, Marcus—’
‘You’ve disappeared off the face of the earth. Are you okay? Unsurprisingly, Emma isn’t accepting any of my calls and when I went round your place there was a pack of reporters outside. I legged it before they saw me and started asking questions. Are you in lockdown? Do you need anything?’ Marcus was always so concerned for everyone else. Nate smiled, glad that the wedding was over and done with and not being tainted by all this mess. Marcus and his new wife didn’t deserve that. ‘Nate?’
‘It’s okay, Marcus. I’m not there. I’m …’ He almost gave himself away but pulled back just in time. He could trust Marcus, that wasn’t in question, he just didn’t want to put him in a difficult situation. ‘I’m away somewhere, out of the spotlight, somewhere the press won’t find me. It’s probably best you don’t know.’
‘Blimey, it’s that bad?’
‘It is.’
‘I’m so sorry, Nate. It’s my fault, I should have stopped you—’
Nate stood up and began pacing. ‘No way, man. This was one hundred percent my fault. You didn’t force me into getting drunk.’
‘No but I know Big Stan can be quite persuasive. I knew I shouldn’t have invited him but—’
Nate sat again and rested his elbow on the table. ‘Marcus, listen to me. This is my fault, no one else’s. I misjudged the situation with Hannah. I didn’t think she even knew who I was at first.’ He gave a resigned chuckle. ‘I was so drunk I didn’t know who I was.’
‘I hope you don’t feel guilty about Emma. Nate, she’s cheated on you for ages.’
‘I know, but the ring is still on my finger.’ He decided not to mention that his heart was a jigsaw of broken pieces. ‘I should have stopped myself.’ Nate’s voice croaked as if someone had their hands around his throat, which was just what Hannah Salgado was doing to his career. God, he’d been so stupid. He should have been stronger instead of letting his vanity be flattered and following his urges into bed.
‘What are you going to do now?’
Nate shrugged even though Marcus couldn’t see him. ‘Ride it out. It’s all I can do.’
‘There must be something we can do?’
‘There’s nothing really. We just have to wait and see. Emma doesn’t want the press digging around in case they find out about her affairs so she’s agreed we just wait for the story to die and then I come back. We’ll announce the divorce later.’
‘It sounds pretty unfair to me. You’re already being painted as the bad guy. Don’t you think the world should know the truth?’
‘No, I don’t,’ he said emphatically. ‘I made Emma a promise not to expose her affairs. Plus you know her dad could ruin my career permanently if he chose to. This really is the best way.’ Marcus went quiet. ‘Come on, I’ve thought about this enough, believe me. Tell me some good news.’
They chatted about Marcus’ work and other people they knew while he watched another glorious evening sun paint the sky. Finally, Nate ended the call and tapped the corner of his phone down on the linen table cloth. The French doors were open again and the plants rustled as a few birds hopped and fluttered about. A seagull landed in the garden searching for food and Nate pulled a biscuit from the barrel, broke off a piece and threw it out into the garden. The sky above the tall stone walls of the courtyard garden was turning a crazy mix of orange and pink. He’d never paid that much attention to the sky in London. He was always too busy, head down, thinking about the next job.
Walking outside, Nate paused at the garden table. His muscles were tense from the constant anxiety and he felt a twitch in his legs. They wanted to move, to run. He hadn’t been out for a run in over a week now and felt like his lungs hadn’t taken a full, deep breath since before that night at the theatre. Bugger it, he was going out. Surely he’d be okay to take a quick walk along the seafront. No one was expecting to see him there, so he probably wouldn’t be noticed. Mr Bennett rubbed his fat ginger tummy against Nate’s legs and Nate reached down and gave him a fuss behind his ears.
In their meticulously tidy hallway, Nate found his trainers placed neatly in line with Gregory and Cecil’s slippers. An old-fashioned coat stand stood in the corner next to an umbrella stand in the shape of a lighthouse. Neither had been needed in weeks. Though he didn’t have a key, Gregory and Cecil would surely be back before him. They’d been gone a long time already. Nate opened the door, and stepped out into the world, the evening light still bright and the air fresh on his skin. Although it was still warm, goosebumps rose on his forearms where the breeze swept over him, a reaction to his days inside. He turned right, as the road seemed to lead away from the centre of town, and following the winding streets, he admired the beautiful houses. It was like being on the set of a costume drama. By pure chance the lane he walked down opened out onto a busy main road running all the way along the seafront. Nate crossed, hopping over a small concrete wall that must have been to stop the tide when it rose too high, and stepped down onto the pebble beach. As he hastened towards the sea, the shingle crunching under foot, the sound of the road receded to be replaced by the rhythmic hum of the tide.
Seagulls swooped overhead and Nate stopped with his hands in his pockets. The muscles of his neck and shoulders dropped down, the tightness shifting from his chest, and he took a deep steadying breath. For a second, he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of breathing in and out, keeping time with the sea, content in a moment of utter peace and quiet. When he slowly opened his eyes again a strange sight caught his eye. Down the beach, at the very edge of the water, stood a woman gazing out to sea. The skirt of her dress floated gently on the breeze and stray strands of dark brown hair drifted onto her face. She pushed them back, but as the light caught them, a myriad of different tones appeared from deep espresso to hints of pillar box red. Despite the heat of the sun, her skin was pale with only a hint of bronze on her legs. From her stance she seemed incredibly troubled, like him.
Unable to move closer for fear of disturbing her, Nate sat down where he was and though he tried to keep his eyes on the waves as they rose higher and higher up the beach, he found his head pulling to the side, watching her. At one point he thought she wiped at her face as though she was crying, but her features were hidden behind her hair, so he couldn’t know for sure. Something about her, like a siren in old mariners’ tales, seemed to call to him. He was tempted to go over and speak to her and see if she was all right, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk being recognised anymore than he had already and that made him unutterably sad, so he ignored the tugging at his soul and kept his eyes on the horizon. For half an hour she gazed out, standing all the time, lost in her own world until, at last, she turned and headed back the other way, away from him.
Nate wondered who she was, and what was troubling her. There’d been something almost ethereal about her as she’d stood there. Something ghostly. From the dipping of the sun it was time to head back to the cottage. He’d left a note but still, he couldn’t be much longer. Gregory and Cecil would be wondering where he was. The last thing he needed was them phoning Robin and getting him into even more trouble. Though it wasn’t as if things could get any worse. With one last look, trying to find a glimpse of the woman again, he got to his feet and brushed down his jeans, all the while wondering what it was about her that had intrigued him so. Probably boredom and his penchant for drama creeping out.
As he came back to the concrete sea defence he spotted Gregory and Cecil over the other side of the road, looking like a couple of worried mothers. When they spotted him, they waved, clearly relieved. He waited for a car to pass then crossed the road, watching Gregory’s face harden into an expression of disapproval. He was going to have to do the washing-up tonight to make up for his naughtiness. Taking one last look behind him at the brightest of suns setting slowly, and the black shapes of the gulls cawing in the sky, he filled his lungs with fresh air, not knowing when he’d get to do this again. With heavy legs he followed Gregory and Cecil back to the cottage, and back to his solitary confinement.