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Authors: Robert Bryndza

Tags: #Humour, #british comedy authors, #satire, #love sex and marriage, #romatic comedy, #British humour, #love stories

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BOOK: Miss Wrong and Mr Right
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‘Angels and ministers of grace defend us,’ I repeated.

‘There, it’s all going to be fine,’ said Nicky. I looked at the crazed faces of the crowds screaming hysterically for Ryan. Thunder rumbled and there was a flash of lightning.

‘Ok. I’ll go inside and check everything is running smoothly,’ I said.
 

‘And I’ll get ready to be door bitch,’ said Nicky giving me a hug. ‘And let’s have fun tonight, Nat, yeah? Enjoy our moment.’

‘I couldn’t have done it without you,’ I said.

‘And vice-versa honey,’ she smiled.
 

When I got back inside I saw my phone battery was low, so I went up to the office. I was rummaging around in my bag for my charger when there was a knock at the door. It was Xander with a serious look on his face.

‘Sorry to bother you. One of Ryan’s assistants is asking if I can get him a Mountain Jew. I don’t know what that is? Is she asking for a Rabbi?’

‘I think he means Mountain Dew. It’s a soft drink Xander. ‘Dew’ as in a light film of water on the grass, as opposed to someone of the Jewish faith…’ I couldn’t help smiling.

‘Oh. Ok,’ he said blushing. ‘Do we have it at the bar?’
 

‘No. You can get it at the international newsagent on the corner. Can you spare a moment to run out?’

‘The girls need more goody bags in the foyer,’ he said. I went to the petty cash tin, pulled out a twenty and handed it to Xander.
 

‘Go and get Ryan a load of Mountain Dews, and I’ll sort out the goody bags,’ I said.
 

‘I’ll be quick as I can,’ he promised.
 

I went downstairs to the foyer where guests had started to arrive. The two girls handing out the goody bags were already down to a last few on their table. I went and unlocked the store cupboard behind them, flicked on the light and saw the rest of the goody bags were piled up on a long flat loading trolley. The trolley had been tucked in behind the door and I had to close it and work it backwards and forwards on its wheels to manoeuvre it into the centre of the storeroom. I turned to open the door and stopped dead… through the strip of glass in the door, standing by the goody bag table was… Jamie Dawson.

He was dressed in a sharp black suit, opened-necked shirt, a loose fitting tie and trainers. I ducked to one side and flicked off the light in the storeroom. What the hell? I thought. I hadn’t eaten much all day, but would it make me hallucinate Jamie Dawson? Did he even live in London? The last I’d heard was that he was working in Canada.

I peered back through the glass in the door. Yes, it was Jamie Dawson, chatting away to the goody bag girls. He laughed and his wide smile was bookended by dimples. A lock of chestnut hair fell across his face. I noticed next to him stood a beautiful dark-haired girl with ghostly pale skin. Her dress was pink lace, so tight, it looked as if it had been painted onto her hourglass figure. Her skin was like flawless porcelain. I recognised her from somewhere… She reached up tucking the stray hair behind Jamie’s ear. My heart began to race; fear flooded through me and I ducked back out of sight, pressing my head against the cool wood of the door.
 

Why tonight did I have to see Jamie? Why had he come to the launch party? Who’d invited him? I took some deep breaths and waited a few moments. I peered back through the glass and saw that Jamie and his companion had moved off. I flicked on the light and pushed the trolley out to them.

‘We just saw Tuppence Halfpenny,’ said the first goody bag girl excitedly.
 

‘The one in the pink lace dress?’ I asked.

‘Yes, she’s like the British Dita Von Teese,’ said the second. ‘I’ve just started doing a burlesque course and…’

‘Did you see? I think she had on real diamonds,’ interrupted the first. A couple more people approached the table.

‘We’re not paying you to stand here and gossip,’ I snapped. I went out onto the street where Nicky was standing behind a little lectern. Under her glare, people were queuing up on the red carpet, flashing their teeth and invitations. The crowd behind was still chanting ‘RY-AN RY-AN RY-AN…’

‘Hi Nat, everything okay?’ asked Nicky.

‘I just want to check we invited someone called Tuppence Halfpenny?’ I asked.

‘Yeah, the photographers went mad when she arrived. She’s very hot right now, she’s like the British…’

‘Dita Von Teese, yes,’ I said.

‘Is there a problem? She’s getting a ton of press – especially London press.’

‘No, it’s fine. And the guy she was with?’

‘Jamie um, Dyson?’

‘Dawson.’

‘Yes, Jamie Dawson.’

‘And he was her plus one?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ said Nicky. ‘Do you know him?’

‘Me? No, um just doing a head count…’ I lied.

Nicky narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you okay Nat? You’ve gone very pale.’
 

‘I’m fine. Give me a buzz when everyone’s in,’ I said. I went back inside, past the goody bag girls, and took the stairs two at a time up to my office.
 

I closed the door and leant against it for a minute. My legs were shaking. I grabbed my handbag, pushed down the bar of the fire door in the corner of my office, and went out onto a now-defunct fire escape. The platform remained, but the metal stairs leading five storeys down to the street below had been neatly clipped off during the renovations. I climbed the set of stairs they hadn’t removed, and stepped up onto the flat roof of the theatre. I leant against the huge chimney stack and took some deep breaths.

Jamie looked great. So many feelings were surging through me… like my past had caught up with me. Jamie and I never finished our conversation that day, the day he walked away from me outside my parents’ house.
 

It was like his question still hung in the air after all these years…

Wedding or nothing?
 

What would I say if we carried on the conversation today? Wedding? Nothing? I had to admit things had changed. Jamie was still gorgeous, and he’d appreciated in value over the years. When I was nineteen it was easy to meet a guy like him. Now I’m almost thirty-five, and men of his calibre are never single. And if they are, they’re snapped up, just as fast as a house in a desirable area.

Wedding or nothing?

Of course, it wouldn’t be ‘wedding’, but would it be ‘nothing’? I remembered how he’d made me laugh, just how good we were together. I shook those thoughts away. I was with Benjamin. I had the career and life I’d always dreamed of. I was just feeling the stupid jitters after seeing an ex for the first time in fifteen years.

There was a rumble of thunder and a large raindrop burst on my bare arm, then another on the back of my neck. There was a few seconds’ pause and then the rain came splattering down on the flat asphalt roof. I yelped and ran back to the steps and down to the fire door – which was shut. I had forgotten to wedge it open, and there was no handle on the outside!

‘NO!’ I cried feeling uselessly at the edges of the door. Rain was pouring down, soaking my hair and large drops were clinging onto my bare shoulders. I grabbed my mobile and called Nicky, it rang once and then my phone gave three bleeps and the battery died.

‘NOOOOO!’ I shouted staring at the blank screen. I put my handbag above my head and hammered on the fire door. The rain cranked up a notch, roaring as it came down on the buildings packed close around me. I banged on the door again and shouted. The beautiful green dress was now sticking to my thighs. I dashed up the steps and back onto the roof.
 

Raindrops had rapidly pooled like patches of mercury on the smooth asphalt, reflecting the pink and blue neon signs from the bar next door. I dashed across the roof, trying not to slip, and leant over the edge to yell down to Nicky. The rain fell in sheets to the road below, which had rapidly emptied, save for a police van, the row of crash barriers, and a group of die-hard Ryan Harrison fans. The rain was hitting the road so hard, the tarmac was a pale blur. I couldn’t see Nicky on the red carpet, she must have moved inside, and people were hurrying into the theatre under umbrellas.

‘Nicky! NICKY!’ I shouted, but my voice was lost in the noise of the rain. My handbag slithered off my head, and as my arm took the weight of it, I was nearly pulled over the side.
 

I pulled myself back and landed on my arse, in several inches of freezing rainwater.

The M word

After twenty minutes banging against the fire door, it was finally opened by Nicky.

‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ she said. I rushed inside past her, drenched. My wet dress was now stuck to me.
 

‘Thank God, my phone died, I could have been out there all night!’ I said my teeth chattering. Nicky stared, horrified.

‘Nat, I have to introduce you in ten minutes,’ she said.

‘Look!’ I cried. ‘What am I going to do?’ Water was pouring off me, leaving dark wet patches on the carpet. On one side my hair was plastered to my cheek.
 

‘There’s your other outfit,’ said Nicky going to the garment bag on the coat stand.

‘The EasyJet air hostess?’

‘I was just kidding,’ said Nicky ‘And I’m not sure what else we’ve got? Do you want me to run down to the costume department? What play is on at the moment?’


Dangerous Liaisons
…’ I said.

‘We’d never get the corset done up in time,’ said Nicky. She went to her gym bag and pulled out a towel.

‘Here, it’s clean,’ she said. I took it gratefully.

‘Can you turn round, I’m gonna have to take off my underwear,’ I said.

Nicky turned. I pulled off my knickers and unhooked my bra, and wrung them out in the plant in the corner.

‘That’s a plastic plant,’ said Nicky still with her back to me. I laughed. It sounded like the crazed yip of a hyena. I dried off with the towel and put my underwear back on. Nicky passed me the pencil skirt and I stepped into it and zipped up.
 

‘You can turn round,’ I said. I pulled on the orange blouse. Nicky quickly did up the long row of tiny buttons as I towelled my hair. I had no choice but to twist it into a bun at the nape of my neck. I then grabbed a mirror and saw mascara had run down as far as my chin. I rummaged in my bag, found my make-up remover and cleaned off my face. The radio Nicky was carrying hissed and Xander’s voice came through saying Ryan was waiting.

‘Natalie we have to go,’ she said.

‘Can you stall him for at least a minute? Just let me put something on my face.’

 

Nicky went off and I hastily applied some make-up. I then dashed down to the third floor, where Nicky and Xander were waiting in the corridor with Ryan Harrison, Terri, and the two assistants, who I’d learned from Nicky were called Beth and Mindy. Ryan was leaning against the wall holding a can of Mountain Dew. He’d changed into black jeans, designer trainers, and a tight t-shirt showing off his impressive biceps. His muscled chest was on display through three horizontal rips in the t-shirt – as if he had been swiped at by something with sharp claws.
 

‘Sorry I’m late. Did you find everything alright?’ I asked. Ryan ran his hand through his dark hair and shrugged.

‘Your Mountain Dew tastes different,’ he said.

‘Um. Well, we’ve got different mountains here in the UK,’ I said.

‘Yeah, there are some really nice ones in Scotland,’ added Nicky.

‘So I’m like getting a taste of your country?’ said Ryan seriously.

‘Yes, they use the water from Loch Lomond,’ grinned Xander. This seemed to please Ryan and we made our way down the stairs. We went through the empty restaurant kitchen then stopped at a door. Nicky excused herself and went through.

‘This leads to the bar. I’ll say a few words, then introduce you Ryan,’ I explained to Beth and Mindy. Terri leant against one of the steel work surfaces and scowled.

‘Did you change your outfit?’ asked Ryan. I didn’t get to answer as I heard Nicky introduce me. I took a deep breath, opened the door and went out into the bar.

Every inch of the floor was crowded. The gold lamps reflected the red velvet walls and carpets, giving everything a warm cosy feel. Our two hundred guests were sipping cocktails whilst waiters circulated with trays. The band we had hired for the party were propping up the bar, their instruments waiting neatly on the back half of the stage. I climbed the small set of steps to the stage, and Nicky handed me the microphone.
 

‘Good evening everyone and thank you for attending the launch of…
the Scottish play
,
’ I said. The crowd laughed knowingly. I went on to explain how I had uttered the M-word by mistake and they laughed again.
 

I suddenly spied Jamie, he was at the back of the crowd. Tuppence Halfpenny was stood beside him, swiping away at her phone. She was wearing fingerless lace gloves that matched her dress. Our eyes locked and he gave me a nod. I realised I’d paused too long; smiles were fading on faces in the audience.
 

‘Ok, so, the Raven Street Theatre is staging
Macbe

the Scottish play
…’
 

Jamie leant down and whispered something in Tuppence’s ear. She looked up and smirked. I struggled to keep on track.

‘Um, and I’m thrilled to introduce the man who will be starring in… it…’

I just couldn’t take my eyes off Jamie. He leant down and whispered something else to Tuppence, she gave a coquettish little smile and rubbed herself against him.

‘Sluttish… I mean, the Scottish play…’

I could hear people begin to mutter at the back. Tuppence was still intent on her phone, swiping languidly at the screen. Jamie looked at me again. His beautiful brown eyes stared deep into mine. I gripped the microphone.

‘Right, well I’m thrilled to introduce, Ryan Harrison!’ I finally said. Ryan came bounding up onto the stage and the crowd clapped and wolf-whistled. Arms were raised with phone cameras and as they started to flash, Jamie was obscured. I moved down off the stage and stood back by the door. Ryan took the microphone and waited for the applause to subside.

BOOK: Miss Wrong and Mr Right
11.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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