Chapter 46.

Jess clapped to welcome Anna on stage, the crowd thundering in her ears. Her heart was pumping, her body primed with excitement from the reception of the feature. The night had been an unbelievable success. If Anna could make it on stage that would be the icing on the cake. If all she did was wave that would treat the crowd and be a monumental step for the actor’s confidence. But as Anna walked on Jess slowed her clap.

Jess's reception had been uproarious but, when Anna walked on, it was as if the night was stolen by a star. Jess gawped, she didn’t realise she’d stopped clapping, so taken was she by the woman who appeared on stage. Golden gown flowing with easy grace and a fluid stride of long elegant legs. You would have to be dead not to notice the plunging neckline and pale flawless cleavage. But it was the way she walked on stage: slow, deliberate, like she belonged. Anna Mayhew was here.

Jess could feel that every face was turned, entranced by their new co-star. Anna came to a stop beside her and dropped a hand to her hip in a seductive pose. She tilted up her chin, the line of her neck exquisite, and the smile she gave of pleasure and purpose silenced the crowd into obedience as she scanned every corner of the auditorium.

“Good evening,” Anna purred. And did that just make several thousand people go weak at the knees? Its seductive power had completely incapacitated Jess. There was a besotted sigh from the crowd.

“I believe,” Anna paused, “you have questions.”

And Jess, Chris and the audience laughed out loud in appreciation at her introduction that dripped with insinuation.

Jess found herself beaming and clapping hard. Anna had brought her fearless character to the stage in all but costume, together with decades of experience of captivating an audience. Jess could never do that and she was in ecstatic awe of Anna’s ability. And her confidence. She didn’t tremble a bit. Anna stood, commanding, her leg provocatively peeping through a slit in her dress without a hint of vulnerability. Jess didn’t know whether she was more pleased for the audience, the whole production or Anna. This was a spectacular step for the actress.

Beaming so much that her cheeks ached, Jess took charge of hosting, picking audience members from the crowd, an overhead microphone panning over to chosen questioners. They ranged from young fans wanting to talk about favourite characters in the Atlassia books, to critics asking about the creative direction the show was taking, to someone asking Chris out on a date, all handled with charm by her colleagues.

A woman at the front with a tablet, who’d looked irritable at the questions so far, shouted out her name.

“Question for Jessica Lambert!” she repeated, and the microphone swung over her head.

“Yes?” Jess said, smiling.

“How are you coping with the schedule after suffering from exhaustion and going into hiding last year?”

Jess twitched. It caught her completely off guard. The evening had been so dominated by questions from ardent fans, that the intrusive line tripped her. Lulled into comfort by the warmth of the audience, with simple questions rewarded by honest answers, the reminder of people with confusing and destructive motives floored her. Why would a person do this?

Her disappearance had been reported in the media but Femi, her manager, had shielded her from most of it. He’d dismissed it as indistinguishable from gossip and the fiction they usually posted. She’d avoided much of the fallout from that and the change in studio, but these things never went away, not while journalists could smell blood.

“I’m…” Her brain was seizing. “I’m enjoying filming the series at Richmond very much,” she said, hearing that her voice was dropping into monotone but able to do little about it. “We’re all relieved that Atlassia has a new home in London,” she pressed on.

“Is it true you’re involved with Anna Mayhew?”

What? Where had that come from?

“Sorry?” she said, without thinking.

“You and Anna were photographed on the Tube last year. You looked cosy.”

Her mind was contracting with panic now. Questions about the film from fans she could answer all night, but this was personal and like a knife thrust into her body.

“I….” It was personal and about a time she’d nearly broken down. She wasn’t sure her parents realised how close she’d come, if it hadn’t been for Anna.

“I…”

Then she’d lied to Anna, taken advantage and hurt her.

The lights seemed so bright suddenly. She was exposed on the stage, in the spotlight, in front of thousands of people. This was her worst nightmare – everything she feared about fame and people. Not even her run on Shaftesbury Avenue had prepared her for this kind of exposure.

“Ms?” It was Anna’s voice, close by. She’d approached Jess and now that Jess looked up she realised Chris had closed in too.

“Cass Johnstone.”

“From?” Anna said, her tone icy.

“The Express.”

“Well, Ms Johnstone from The Express, Jess and I do know each other, so it should be no surprise that we’ve been seen together from time to time. In fact Jess introduced me to the producer of the show for which I’m very grateful. She’s a phenomenal actress and I’m proud to call her my colleague and friend.”

“You haven’t answered my question,” the journalist snapped.

“I think you’ve asked enough questions.” Anna’s reply was final and deadly. “Let’s open it back up to the audience shall we?”

Anna’s hand pressed lightly on Jess's back, reassuring her and pulling her in.

“What can we expect to see this series?” Anna repeated the question from another audience member. “Chris, would you like to take that one?”

Slowly Jess started to see again, the glare of the lights less blinding, but her heart thudding. She struggled through a few questions, heavily filtered by Anna who steered every question to the story and safer ground for Jess. By the time the event organiser was calling for them to wind up, Jess could look people in the eye again.

Held by Anna on one side and Chris on the other, she hoped her cheery wave to the crowd was convincing and she walked off stage with her co-stars rather than collapsing, which had been a possibility halfway through.

She was fried. She could barely think and struggled to speak. She was half aware of Anna approaching and holding her hand.

“Sorry,” Jess muttered, struggling to get the words out. “I’m sorry that came up.”

Anna’s hand was vivid and soft. Her reassuring presence calmed Jess like it had last year. The world seemed to stop spinning when Anna was around. She looked up into Anna’s face and saw the kind concern she’d seen last year, a kindness she’d taken advantage of, which had hurt Anna in a way that still summoned stomach-churning guilt in Jess.

“I’m sorry,” Jess repeated.

Before she could say any more, an assistant took her away. Jess was bundled into a car and Anna into another. They were whisked away from the stadium under cover of darkness before the crowds could exit. Jess let her head drop into her hands, exhausted and at least given a reprieve from fans peering into the car and the incessant flashes of phones and cameras.

She hardly noticed the journey to Richmond, where the after-party was held in a grand Georgian river-front bar. The car delivered her into the privacy of the rear of the building and she was escorted through hallways, up a twisting staircase, to a private function room, all sleek with wooden floors and harsh noise. She grabbed a glass of Champagne from a waiter’s tray, drinking it almost in one gulp, and headed through the throngs of guests, cast and crew to the quietest corner of the room, then out onto a balcony and solitude.

It was like she could breathe again, surrounded by the cool night air and anonymous in the dark, the only light reaching the balcony from the doorways to the room and the occasional outside lamp. There was space and the wide open world out here, the balcony overlooking the river and the stone arched bridge beyond. Orange light from the vintage street lamps glistened on the water, boats swayed in the swell of the river and the shape of trees in the dusk softened the view. The occasional sound of chatter from people walking along the river was removed and soothing. Jess closed her eyes, enjoying the peace, and slowly decompressed.

“I wondered if I’d find you here.”

Jess opened her eyes. Anna.

“I thought you’d seek a quiet corner,” Anna said, moving beside her. She leant on the stone balcony wall, a glass of Champagne in her hand, a picture of ease. “Would you like company or do you need more time alone?”

“Yes,” Jess said, then realised that wasn’t helpful. “I’d like company, if it’s yours.” And she was too tired for embarrassment at her honesty.

Anna sipped at her glass and gazed at the scenery, giving Jess time to recover, her ease infectious and soothing.

“It's beautiful up here,” Anna said. “The way the lights on the water blend in the flow is very pleasing,” she said in a sigh.

Jess leant on the balustrade close to Anna. She twirled the empty glass between her finger and thumb, not wishing to refill it and drink too fast.

“Cold?” Jess asked, wondering if Anna’s coat slung around her shoulders was enough to make up for her revealing dress.

“I’m fine,” she said, although Anna smiled and snuggled closer at the excuse, their bodies touching from shoulder to hip. The warm intimacy soothed deeper still.

“I didn’t appreciate, until recently,” Anna said gently, “quite the impact Atlassia has had and the pressure you’ve been under, and also its particular effect on you and your personality. I’m sorry I didn’t try to understand earlier. I’m beginning to now.”

It wasn’t what Jess had expected her to say and she couldn’t speak.

“I had a taster this evening,” Anna continued, “and frankly it was terrifying. I think I would have struggled even at my most confident if I’d been the focus and I’m a person who used to, and is beginning to again, thrive on attention. I’ve had years on stage, but that was nothing like anything I’ve experienced before.” Anna looked at her, eyes casting around Jess's and the river sparkling in their reflection. “And that’s before any of the relentless attention and bigotry on social media.”

Jess breathed out. “I’ve turned it off. I can’t cope with social media anymore. Femi,” Jess blinked, her brain still sluggish, “that’s my manager, he has an assistant who posts on my behalf. Any news about my work, environmental causes I support, charities I fund, that’s done for me. I have to stay away now.”

“Is it helping?”

Jess nodded. “Being home’s made a difference too. I stay at my folks’ the weekends I’m free.”

“Oh good.” Anna grinned and reached out to squeeze her arm. “They sound wonderful. I’d love to meet them.” Then she stopped herself, perhaps realising the implication. “You know what I mean,” she said. “If they’re ever around.”

Jess carried on quickly, not wanting Anna to feel awkward. “It’s been brilliant actually. I left home when I was seventeen and missed my little brother growing up. We’ve been catching up.”

Anna smiled and held her arm.

“You…” Jess's heart was beating hard, the swell of loss and longing rising inside. “You nudged me in the right direction, when we met.”

Anna twitched but her hand remained resting on Jess's arm.

“You made me come home. I wasn’t sure what to do, or was perhaps too afraid to admit it. So many people thrive on the kind of lifestyle I’ve had, but not me. Familiarity and routine is what I needed,” Jess said, and she had to gulp away feelings and thoughts that were so intertwined about the woman who stood next to her that she was afraid of what they’d all mean if she ever unpicked them all.

They stared over the river, perhaps both too affected to continue that conversation.

“Why do you act?” Anna said suddenly. “Why carry on when it takes such a toll on you?”

“Oh,” Jess said, caught off guard but also grateful for the change in subject. She smiled. “I always loved stories growing up, making up my own with friends at school or reading them. You could do anything with stories – make a world to live in when your own wasn’t welcoming or find a character like you when no-one else was. Acting seemed a natural extension for me.”

Anna nodded, attentive.

Jess hesitated, wondering if she should explain further or if Anna already understood this about her. She might be beginning to. “I don’t always understand people very well. Reading between the lines, duplicity, subtleties of social group dynamics. It’s all so complicated and doesn’t always lead to anything good. At the same time, I’m very sensitive to people’s feelings, crave good company and love having trusted friends. It’s…” she searched for the right word.

“Challenging?” Anna suggested with a smile.

“Yeah.” Jess laughed. “I was a bit of a mimic when I was a kid. I copied other girls’ behaviour to try and fit in. I think that’s where I perfected other people’s accents and mannerisms, and that’s probably why acting became my thing. At the same time, I didn’t get the real-life script everyone else seemed to be born with. I played with a mix of boys and girls who didn’t care about being different and I found stories. I loved acting those out because they made sense and I knew the outcome. Real life was too fast and unpredictable with too many people behaving in ways I didn’t always comprehend straight away.”

She turned to Anna to see if she was explaining it clearly enough. “It’s like perfect living,” Jess said. “You can practise it. Real life happens too fast for me to take in sometimes, like I only appreciate it after the moment's passed. Acting lets me experience it again, properly. Lets me make sense of it all.”

“I can see that – getting to relive those intense moments.” Anna grinned and Jess could see the light come on in her eyes, that sparkle when a human is lit up inside with something that makes existence special for them. “Except I always craved an audience too. I’m always after that high from the intensity of experience when you draw in an entire crowd. Sometimes I suspect I just like showing off.”

And they both laughed.

Jess was comforted that Anna had listened and not walked away. She looked at the beautiful woman, both an enigma but at the same time they had so much in common that she found her easy to understand too.

“Is that why you came back?” Jess asked quietly. “Is that how Matt managed to persuade you to take this role?”

Anna hesitated, considering her answer. “That played a part, yes.”

“How’s it been?”

“Exhilarating. Terrifying. I’m not sure I’ve come down from that first high of shooting a scene. I think I’m running on nervous energy. I hope I don’t crash too badly.”

Jess wanted to say she’d be there for her, but wondered if Anna would welcome it. “Anything I can do, please ask,” Jess said.

“Thank you,” Anna replied, seeming to accept the offer. “Is it worth it for you? Acting? When it has such a high price?”

“Honestly?” Jess pondered. “I don’t know. The fame and money, that’s not why I wanted to act. And the publicity and high-profile side of it, I’m rubbish at that. I’m still that quiet kid who likes reading books and watching films with my mates, and who likes to act someone else for a while, and use their words and feel the thrill of performing while safely choreographed. But small talk with others? Networking? Interviews? I’m not a great entertainer, not like you.”

“You were a very accomplished host this evening.”

“That’s me on my pet subject. I can talk all day about the Atlassia stories.” Jess grinned.

“You seem at ease to me, playful and funny. I find you wonderful company.”

Jess's breath caught. “With you,” Jess said, unable to hold back the sincerity.

“But you are entertaining and intelligent,” Anna said, with a frown as if not quite puzzling her out yet.

“With people I know well. Small trusted groups. When I can relax.”

“But interviews,” Anna offered, “and being visible in public? You hate those?”

“That’s the problem, like you saw tonight. I went to pieces as soon as that journalist asked a personal question. People have expectations of what I should be like, this movie star, an outgoing party girl who wants to be the centre of attention, and I’m not.”

Anna was thoughtful a moment. “I used to play another role in public to deflect that kind of intrusion. I played a part tonight to get myself on stage.”

“For some reason I don’t do that,” Jess said. “Even though I’m an actor, I feel like I should be myself when asked a question. Others might shrug it off or blag an answer, but I feel like I’m lying, and I hate that.”

Anna looked at her. “You can always say ‘no’ though.”

“To what?”

“When an interviewer asks a question that makes you uncomfortable, say, ‘I’m not going to answer that’. It’s a very useful defence which is honest and surprisingly strong. It sets a boundary and although they may try to shame you into lowering it, people usually realise they are in the wrong. You don’t owe them your whole life. You don’t owe anyone your deepest thoughts, unless you want to tell them.”

“Makes sense,” Jess nodded, and she felt a gulf between their experiences. “I feel naïve next to you, especially after your performance on stage tonight.”

Anna snapped her gaze round, her face full of genuine surprise. “Nonsense, you’ve been acting for eight years and look at your resume. You’ve done more than many actors have in twenty. If I’d had half your athleticism, power of delivery, focus and empathy I would have been very happy indeed.”

Jess felt all the force of the compliment as she stared at the beautiful actress who’d this evening delivered a performance that had given Jess goose bumps. “People are different,” Jess said. “Everyone brings something to the table.”

“Yes, they do,” Anna said, and she gazed into Jess's eyes.

Jess was filled with longing. It made sense then, why they’d fallen for each other so quickly. There was the commonality but also the differences, age, experience, personality, and they fitted together in a way so pleasing as to make a bigger picture. And beyond that, they appreciated more and more where the other struggled and stepped up to help. Jess was flooded with yearning for this woman, realising how good they could be for each other.

She was about to ask her. What? To hang out sometime? To please let Jess earn her trust and friendship? But Anna seemed to withdraw a little.

“I should go and mingle,” Anna said. “Besides, I left Penny with a bottle of Champagne. I should find her before she drinks the lot.”

“Can I say hello?” Jess said quickly, not wanting to lose Anna’s company.

“To Penny?”

“Please. I like her,” Jess said with a smile.

“Of course. Don’t let her ogle you though. Please remind her you’re a real person.”

Jess laughed.

Anna offered her arm. “Fancy introducing me to everyone whose name I’ve forgotten or don’t recognise? In turn I’ll do the onerous small talk.”

Jess grinned and took her arm. “That’s a deal.”

They joined the party, Anna with so much ease she appeared its elegant hostess. She gracefully circulated and chatted with everyone they encountered, and Jess started to enjoy the evening. A weight had lifted. They’d cleared the air. The tension and guilt had been relieved at last.

Jess was left glowing, the only shadow cast on the evening her complete and utter inability to hide how besotted she was.