Sebastian sat at the desk he had installed in the Folly. Since deciding this was going to be his headquarters from now on, he’d spent many hours in his secret hideaway, nestled amongst the estate woods. After giving Jamie’s suggestion of setting up his own outdoor theatre company some real consideration, his mind had run into overdrive. He seriously thought it was a contender, running his own events at Treweham Hall. Sebastian had confided in Tobias, who had seconded it, thereby making him even more determined to make a go of it.
Today he had contacted several actor friends, eager to gauge their reactions to his proposal. Sebastian aimed to produce his first play in the summer, giving him five months if he wanted to stage the show in early June. He wanted his theatre company to perform plays that reflected class and sophistication to the more discerning audience, not cheap and cheerful farces played to tipsy crowds booing or cheering. His immediate thoughts gravitated to Shakespeare. After all, what could be more appropriate? But which one? Richard III was out; he’d had enough of King Dick to last him a lifetime. He also didn’t want to be solely associated with that role and was keen to take on another. It obviously couldn’t be a leading one, though, as he wouldn’t have the time to dedicate to it with overseeing the whole project. He narrowed his eyes as he pondered. Then it came to him. What could be better than A Midsummer Night’s Dream to play in summer, especially with these woods?
Jamie, once again, had shown nothing but support. Sebastian liked the idea of the two of them perhaps working together. Jamie was ambitious, but not in a hard, ruthless way, more eager to gain experience and offer assistance wherever he could.
He had contacted Sebastian regularly since working on set in London and was due to come back to Treweham Hall that evening. Sebastian found himself excited by the thought of seeing him again, and silently rejoiced that he was able to feel this way. Gone was the dark, depressing mood that had occupied his inner being for so long. He cast his mind back just a few months, when he thought he’d never get over the heartache Nick Fletcher had inflicted. It all seemed unbelievable now, when comparing the self-obsessed, callous Nick, to the compassionate, caring Jamie.
Fortunately, enough of the friends and colleagues he’d contacted were happy to be involved and were available. Now he had to think about everything else: the costumes, props and scenery. He had to arrange the scripts and decide parts, get programmes, posters and flyers together, and decide on the dates for the production. He needed to get a website designed, a Facebook page set up, his social media all lined up, which then posed the question, what to call his theatre company? The list of things to consider and do was endless.
Thankfully, his thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Sebastian frowned. Who could that be? He didn’t think anybody knew where he was. As he opened the door, his face lit up with joy.
‘Jamie!’
‘We finished early, so I thought I’d surprise you,’ Jamie grinned, thrilled with Sebastian’s reaction.
Soon they were sitting opposite each other in the armchairs by the roaring log burner. Sebastian had poured them each a drink and the two were relaxing and unwinding from a hectic week of work.
Jamie slung back his whisky. ‘I still can’t believe what you told me about Marcus.’
Sebastian nodded. ‘I know, Marcus Devlin, my half-brother. It beggars belief.’
He’d told Jamie the night he had first learnt the news, anxious to confide in him. To say Jamie was stunned was an understatement. ‘But I need your discretion, Jamie. It’s not common knowledge. Well, not yet, anyway.’
‘Absolutely.’ Then Jamie added, ‘Do you think it ever will be?’
‘Common knowledge? Don’t know. I suppose that depends on Marcus.’
‘But what if it leaks out? These things have a habit of doing so, especially where the Cavendish-Blakes are concerned.’
Sebastian knew Jamie was referring to the tabloids, which had hounded his brother practically all his days and had exposed, exaggerated and, in many cases, lied about his lifestyle.
Sebastian looked solemn. ‘It would kill my mother.’
‘Perhaps it would be better to announce it yourselves then, as a family, rather than leaving it to the gutter press to put their spin on it.’
Sebastian paused to reflect on Jamie’s words. He had a point.
‘I’ve got an idea. Marcus could appear in the documentary.’
Jamie sat up, impressed with the suggestion. ‘That,’ he pointed to Sebastian, ‘is a brilliant idea. The three brothers together, showing a united front. It would be fantastic viewing!’
‘Hmm,’ Sebastian nodded. ‘But let me run it past Tobias first.’