‘Mikey, wow! Whatever are you doing back in Berecombe?’
‘Back working in the Regent,’ he said, naming Berecombe’s little theatre on the sea front. ‘Putting on Persuasion as a fund-raiser for it. The old place is looking a bit sad. Needed some cash input, so thought I’d help.’
‘Oh yes,’ Millie continued. ‘You’ve made quite a name for yourself, haven’t you? Directing or something. Up in London.’
‘I’ve had some success.’ The modest words belied his tone.
He’d always been so sure of himself, Dora thought. Some said brave, bearing in mind his background. Some said cocky. It depended on your point of view.
‘How nice.’ She couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. She hated being wrong-footed like this. If she’d thought, coming back here, she’d bump into him, she would have gone to her villa in Siena. But something had called her back to Berecombe and, besides, her parents had been due a visit. If fate engineered a meeting with Michael Love, then Dora would infinitely have preferred it to be when she was looking at her best. In control. The very image of the successful actress.
Millie was completely star-struck, however. She’d always had a soft spot for Mikey when they were all at school together. ‘Ooh lovely, one of my favourites. I love Persuasion. When’s it on?’
‘Later in the summer. Early days yet, we haven’t even cast it.’ Mikey directed his words to Millie, but his eyes were fixed on Dora.
‘Are you Theodora Bart? It is, isn’t it? Oh. My. God.’ A Sloaney female voice. Very young. Very gushing.
The evening just got worse. A fan.
The woman Dora had heard giggling with Cider Phil stood up and joined them.
‘I absolutely love you in The English Woman. I literally can’t wait for the next series. When’s it due out?’
Dora tried to pin on a gracious smile but was desperate to get away. The duck costume was making her claustrophobic, her red tights were far too big and threatening to fall down and she couldn’t bear Mikey’s gaze. ‘Thank you,’ she said in cool tones. ‘I’m afraid I’m not sure about the next series.’
‘This is Kirstie Fielding, my first assistant director,’ Mikey explained. ‘And one of your biggest fans.’
‘I’ll say,’ Kirstie went on. ‘When I found out you and Mike came from the same town, went to school together, even, I was literally so thrilled. And I can’t believe I’ve met you! And in a duck costume too! I’ve just got to get a selfie with you.’
‘Phil and Kirstie?’ Millie laughed, thankfully interrupting. ‘Really?’ She turned to Mikey. ‘And you’re no longer Mikey?’
He gave a regretful look. ‘Dropped the ‘y’ when I left Berecombe. We all need to reinvent ourselves, occasionally, don’t we?’
He left the words hanging but Dora knew his inference. Panicking, she clutched at straws. ‘Look, I’m so sorry but we have to go. I’ve still got a ton of ducks to sell.’ As Kirstie got her phone out, she put up her hand. ‘No really, no pictures. The fund-raising isn’t about me. It’s about the Workshop.’
‘No doubt we’ll bump into each other again, Dora.’
‘I’m sure we will Mikey. I mean Mike.’ She grabbed Millie’s arm in a vice-like grip, but before they could escape Millie rattled Dora’s tin at Mike.
‘How many have you left?’ he asked.
‘Twenty-five.’ Dora said it as a challenge, sticking her chin out. ‘Pound a duck.’
The challenge was accepted. ‘I’ll take them all,’ Mike said, with a defiant gleam in his eyes.
Dora peeled off the last numbers from the sheet, took his money and, with barely a thank you, steered Millie away. She shoved her unceremoniously through the crowd to the door. As they left they heard Kirstie’s Made in Chelsea tones complaining that you should never meet your heroes as they always disappoint.
‘How could you show me up in front of him, of all people?’ Dora fell onto the sofa in Millie’s flat.
‘Who?’ Millie dropped her duck head with a relieved sigh. ‘Ooh, it’s been a long night. My feet are killing me. No, Trevor, she warned as the cockapoo nosed it with interest.’
‘Mikey Love, that’s who. Or maybe we ought to call him Mike now.’
‘Yeah, he’s definitely more a Mike now he’s all grown up and gorgeous. Mind you, he was gorgeous at school too.’ Millie’s voice was dreamy. ‘All the girls had a crush on Michael Love, although I seem to remember he only had eyes for one girl.’ Getting up, she went into the kitchen and foraged in the fridge. Brandishing a bottle of white and two glasses, she added, ‘Think we’ve earned this. Tessa was really grateful we helped out.’
‘So she should be.’
Millie poured the wine. ‘Why are you so cross?’
‘Those men! They treated us like shit.’
‘All in good fun. Millie shrugged. ‘They didn’t mean any harm. You just need to elbow them where it hurts.’
‘Is it always like this on a Friday night now?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘So much drinking.’
‘Think you’re a bit out of touch with us commoners,’ Millie observed. ‘Maybe you’ve lived in LA for too long? It was just ordinary Friday night banter.’ She passed over a glass. ‘Here, have some of this.’
Dora sipped her wine and tried not to grimace. It wasn’t the smooth white Californian she was used to. Maybe she had been in the LA bubble for too long? After all, when was the last time she’d been out without a protective entourage? Granted, it was more necessary in the States as she had a bigger fan base there. Putting her wine down, she slipped out of the duck costume, kicked off the horrible tights and lay spread-eagled on the sofa in only her underwear. ‘Oh, that’s better,’ she sighed, feeling better immediately.
Millie laughed. ‘I’ll open a window. Cool you down a bit. Going to be a hot summer, I think. It’s boiling now and it’s only April.’ After opening the window and letting the sea breeze float in, she disappeared to her bedroom and changed. Five minutes later she flopped down on the chair near the window and cackled. ‘If only your adoring fans could see you now.’
Dora didn’t bother opening her eyes. ‘They’ve seen me in less.’
‘Wasn’t quite what I meant.’
This got through. Dora giggled and sat upright. She took another sip of wine and found it tasted better this time. ‘Oh, I’m sorry I’m such a grouch, Mil. Too hot, too tired, too jet-lagged.’
‘Too
