Strictly My Husband: It's funny, it's romantic and it's got dancing - what's not to love! (26 page)

‘You have a show to do tomorrow,’ Tom continued. ‘And if you score below eight because you’re hung-over, you’re all fired. Do you understand?’

Jerry leapt up out of his chair and pushed Tom off his perch.

‘Listen to the man,’ he yelled from behind his half-zombie, half-man make-up. ‘What the bloody hell are you all doing in here? Tom’s right. Get home to bed this instant. I want to see a nine tomorrow. Do you understand?’

There was muttering but no one really moved.

‘I’ll ask you again. Do you understand?’ he bawled.

‘Yes, Jerry,’ everyone shouted and slowly but surely they all drained the last of their drinks and trickled out of the pub as Jerry stood guard at the exit telling each and every one of them he personally wanted to see them bright and breezy the next day.

Tom knew there was no way Jerry was going to be full of beans the following morning as he and Carly dropped him on to the sofa in his lounge. Jerry grunted, somewhere between barely awake and a blissful haze.

‘I think I’d better get you a coffee,’ said Tom. ‘You want one?’ he asked Carly.

‘I’m fine.’ She followed him into the kitchen; after a moment she said: ‘We were amazing up there.’

Tom nodded, his mind a jumble of different emotions. He felt euphoric that it looked as though he’d pulled it off – that he’d managed to deliver a knockout show. But he’d never in a million years expected to be up there on stage again.

‘You were brilliant,’ said Carly. ‘Honestly, I’m not just saying it.’

‘Thanks.’ He grinned. ‘I didn’t do too badly, did I?’

‘Too badly!’ exclaimed Carly. ‘You were seriously good. You know what you should do, don’t you?’

‘What?’

‘You should come with me after we finish next week. They’re auditioning for a new show, a massive one, a big new musical. They want singers and dancers and there are some pretty big parts going from what I’ve heard. They’ve described it as an ensemble piece so not just a handful of main parts and the rest is chorus-line shit. Lots of really good roles. Why don’t you come and give it a go? You never know, do you?’

‘Where is it?’ asked Tom, struggling to suppress a familiar spark of hope that he thought had long been extinguished.

‘London,’ Carly continued excitedly. ‘It’s West End, Tom. How exciting would that be? I’m heading down the day after we finish. Why don’t you take the day off and come with me? You’ll never know unless you try!’

Tom looked down at Carly. She had never looked so young. She was glowing with success and hope for the future.

‘I’ll think about it,’ he said, carrying a cup of coffee back into the living room for Jerry.

‘It’s a shame Laura wasn’t there tonight,’ said Carly, flopping down into an armchair. ‘What happened?’

‘Oh, she had to work. She’s got evening research groups all week. It happens sometimes. In fact she planned them for this week knowing that I’d be on park late every night. She didn’t realise then of course that I would actually be in the show.’

‘She must be gutted she can’t come and see you.’

‘Yes, yes,’ replied Tom, looking away. ‘Of course she is. I’m sure she would have been there if she could.’ He sighed and looked at his watch. ‘Now it’s time to get some beauty sleep,’ he said, holding out his hand to Carly and pulling her out of the chair. only he pulled her too hard and she over-balanced, falling into him.

‘Sorry!’ She laughed, staring up into his eyes.

‘It’s OK.’ He smiled and kissed her on her forehead.

‘Get on that stage and sock it to ’em,’ mumbled Jerry in his sleep, making the pair of them jump.

Tom pulled away. It was definitely time to go to bed.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Laura

She knew this would happen. It was Friday night and Tom’s fifth performance in the show and Laura and Hannah were sitting at the dining table waiting for everyone else to arrive back from the theme park for dinner. Tom and Laura had barely talked to each other all week, passing like ships in the night. She’d been leaving for work before Tom got up and he was coming home later and later: staying behind after every show to work out further improvements to what had clearly become his pride and joy. But he’d said he’d be back in good time tonight. Now it was edging towards nine o’clock and Tom, Jerry, Carly and Will were nowhere to be seen. Laura sighed and reached up to open some more wine.

‘So just show me on your face how Tom looked at Carly after the Twisted Tango,’ she asked Hannah again as she topped up their glasses.

‘I can’t!’ pleaded Hannah, lifting her glass to take a gulp. ‘I didn’t see anything other than a really good show and everyone seemed delighted. That was all there was to it.’

Laura wasn’t convinced. ‘So what do I do now, Hannah?’ she asked.

‘About what? I can’t see what there is that you need to do something about.’

‘You think he loves her, don’t you?’ Laura pressed. ‘That’s why you won’t say anything. You know I’m right. He loves her and he’s going to leave me.’

‘I didn’t say that,’ said Hannah.

‘Then bloody well say
something
. I don’t know what to do. I need you to help me.’

‘I don’t know what you should do,’ snapped Hannah. ‘Why are you asking me? I’ve no idea about these things. What do I know about love and happiness and all that claptrap? These looks you keep harping on about, these
moments
. It’s all bullshit. Romantic bullshit. I don’t get it.’

Laura stared at Hannah. Hannah was close to losing her temper, she was swearing and slightly slurring her words: a combination she never would have associated with her friend.

‘Of course you get it,’ said Laura. ‘When you fell in love with Jerry, you remember those feelings, those moments, those looks. I remember it like yesterday with Tom. I know it fades, gets worn away by domestic stuff and the day-to-day crap you have to deal with. But it’s still there. Somehow it keeps you welded together. That is until you see that look again on your husband’s face, but this time staring at another woman,’ she finished bitterly.

Hannah shrugged and drank some more wine. What the hell was wrong with her? thought Laura. She could get more response by trying to talk to a man about this stuff.

‘I married Jerry because it was good for business,’ Hannah suddenly announced.

‘Fuck off,’ said Laura, realising suddenly that perhaps she’d had too much to drink as well.

Hannah shrugged. ‘I did. It was my dad who fell in love with him, to be perfectly honest. Treated him like the son he never had.’ She threw back some more wine. ‘He was the one who started sending Jerry out to drum up business he thought we had no chance of getting, just to train him up. But he kept getting the deals. He was a natural and when he asked me to marry him . . . well, we couldn’t lose him to a rival firm by then, could we?’

Laura was speechless. She’d never heard Hannah talk like this.

‘But . . . but there must have been more to it than that,’ she said eventually. ‘You make it sound like you were courting in Victorian times or something.’

‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. I was besotted with him in the beginning.’ Hannah shook her head and stared down into the bottom of her wine glass. ‘No one like Jerry had ever shown any interest in me and I fell for it, hook, line and sinker, like the desperately insecure teenager I was. Thought I was lucky to grab a catch like Jerry. Thought I was the type to be left on the shelf. But it was relief I felt when I married him, not love.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Laura, pouring more wine for both of them.

‘There’s nothing to say. I made my bed and I’ve got to lie in it.’ Hannah took a gulp of wine and Laura thought she detected a glistening of tears in her eyes.

‘Why haven’t you said anything before?’ asked Laura, leaning forward and putting her hand over Hannah’s.

She shrugged. ‘To be honest, I never really thought about it before now. Kind of shoved it to the back of my mind. Jerry’s not a bad man, is he? We have a good life. It’s not a bad marriage.’ Then Hannah caved and allowed a single tear to slip down her cheek.

‘Oh, Hannah.’ Laura squeezed her hand. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I thought it didn’t matter, the love bit. There were so many other good things about us being together, I thought I could live without love until . . . until . . .’ began Hannah.

‘We have champagne!’ came a cry from the hallway and the crashings and bangings of the four latecomers arriving for Friday-night dinner.

Hannah snapped her hand away from Laura’s, threw back some more wine whilst simultaneously wiping away her tear.

‘Ka mate, ka mate, whoaah,’ shrieked Jerry as he burst through the dining-room door and stood with his legs wide apart, his hands raised, eyes bulging and tongue hanging out of his mouth in some vague interpretation of the New Zealand haka tribal dance. ‘Ka mate, ka mate, whoaah,’ he repeated, stamping his feet.

‘So sorry we’re late,’ said Tom, bustling past the chanting beast that Jerry had become as if what he was doing was quite normal. He rushed over and planted a kiss on Laura’s forehead. ‘Will has put up a roving spotlight to follow me and Carly during the Twisted Tango. It took a bit longer than expected.’

‘All those wires,’ said Carly, kicking off her shoes and slumping down in a chair. ‘Will is some kind of genius. I have no idea how he works it all out.’

‘It was trickier than I thought it was going to be,’ admitted Will. ‘I’m really sorry we kept you waiting,’ he said to Hannah and Laura. ‘I needed a particular sort of screw that took me a while to find.’

‘There are times when we all need a particular kind of screw,’ said Jerry, wrapping his arm around him. ‘Eh, lad? Do you know what I mean?’

Laura glanced nervously between Jerry and Hannah. Hannah looked furious. Will looked uncomfortable.

‘Aah, leave him alone,’ piped up Carly.

‘He knows I’m only messing,’ replied Jerry. ‘I tell you what though, Will, I noticed quite a few of those dancers giving you the eye when you were up that ladder. You were making them all silly. You should get in there, lad.’ Jerry winked at Tom, who had returned from the kitchen with three cold bottles of beer.

‘Ooh, yes,’ Carly squealed. ‘I meant to tell you. Elspeth was asking me all about you. She really likes you, Will.’

‘You lucky bastard,’ cried Jerry. ‘She is H.O.T., hot. You have to get in there, mate.’

Will shook his head. ‘No really, I—’

‘Is she coming to the after-show party here next week?’ Jerry asked Carly.

‘I presume so,’ she replied.

Jerry rubbed his hands together in glee. ‘I repeat, you lucky bastard. Oh, to be free and single – no offence, Hannah,’ he said, waving his hand in her vague direction. ‘Would you like me to allocate you one of the guest rooms now?’ he asked Will.

‘No, Jerry,’ said Will, suddenly raising his voice.

Everyone went silent.

Will grabbed a beer from Tom and took a swig.

‘All right, keep your hair on,’ said Jerry. ‘I was just trying to help you out, that’s all.’

‘I don’t need any help,’ said Will, showing uncharacteristic signs of losing his temper.

‘Well, it looks like you do from where I’m standing.’ Jerry chuckled, glancing round at everyone. ‘You’ll forget how to use it if you’re not careful.’

‘Jerry!’ Hannah cried out, nearly knocking her wine glass over as she stood up abruptly.

‘What?’ Jerry threw his arms out wide in surprise. ‘It’s only what you’re all thinking,’ he said. ‘We’re worried that you’re not getting enough sex, Will.’

‘You are disgusting,’ breathed Hannah.

‘You don’t have to—’ started Will, shooting a concerned look in Hannah’s direction.

‘Oh yes I do,’ she continued. She took a step forward and stood between Will and Jerry, looking in Will’s direction. ‘I must apologise to you for my husband.’ Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. ‘He has no right whatsoever to tell you how to conduct your love life and you deserve so much more than the stupid pointless sex he is suggesting.’

She turned to give Jerry the most disdainful look imaginable and then picked up a bottle and her wine glass from the table. ‘Utility room?’ she said to Laura.

‘Absolutely,’ replied Laura, following her out of the dining room.

Half an hour, another bottle of wine and a moan-fest later, Laura and Hannah staggered out of their hiding place.

‘Where’s Carly?’ slurred Laura.

‘Where’s Will?’ slurred Hannah.

Jerry stood up from the table and put his arm around Hannah’s shoulder. ‘Will went home,’ he said. ‘I apologised,’ he added when Hannah looked at him accusingly. ‘We’re all good. Honestly. Now let me take you home. I think it’s time you went to bed, isn’t it?’

Hannah looked at him for a moment; then she sagged against his shoulder, nodding. ‘S’pose,’ she agreed, closing her eyes.

‘Right,’ said Jerry brightly, turning to Laura and Tom. ‘I’ll get this lush home now she’s let off some steam. Sorry about dinner, Laura. I’ll make it up to you. See you all soon.’

Laura said nothing until she heard the front door slam behind them.

‘Where’s Carly?’ she repeated, grabbing the back of a chair to stop herself swaying.

‘Oh, she went to bed,’ said Tom. ‘Wanted to get her beauty sleep ready for the weekend’s performances. And we’re going in early to practise a new lift for the end of the Twisted Tango. It’s really complicated so I’m not sure we can do it but if we could just perfect . . .’

Laura zoned out; the alcohol was making it difficult to concentrate and she really couldn’t bear to listen to what Tom and Carly were going to do together the following day.

‘. . . tomorrow?’ was the next thing she registered Tom saying.

‘Sorry, what did you say?’ she asked.

‘You’ll tell me what you think tomorrow, won’t you?’ said Tom. ‘Tell me if you think we are right putting that extra lift in when you come and see the show.’

‘I’m not coming,’ she blurted out without thinking.

‘What do you mean?’ He looked hurt.

‘I . . . I . . .’ She didn’t know what to say but she knew she had to put off seeing the show for as long as possible. She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them dance together and then having to live under the same roof knowing the inevitable was coming and her marriage was doomed the minute they walked off stage for the final time. She’d rather not know until the end; then at least it would all be over quickly. ‘I’m going to wait and come on your last night. I don’t want to put you off,’ she said. ‘And I, er, want to make sure I see it at its best and share in the glory of your final night.’