“What can I say?” he started and they all laughed. He tried to compose himself.
“You have surpassed even my wildest dreams.” Some of the girls started sniffing. “I can honestly say that I've learnt more from directing and acting in this play than any other piece I've ever worked on.” His voice cracked on the last few words. “And I think you know I'm not talking about just the acting. Thank you all. I'll never forget this experience and I hope you don't either.”
There was a long pause and then Mrs. Bennet started clapping and they all joined in. She gave him a big hug for which he was eternally grateful, because it wouldn't have done for them all to see he was crying. Eventually he pulled himself away and said hoarsely, “See you at the party.” And everyone started rushing to get ready.
Jazz felt totally lost. She had the party - when he'd be surrounded by his family and friends - and then she'd probably never see him again. She ran to get changed.
The dressing room was abuzz with excitement. People were sharing deodorants and shouting at each other with bright, animated faces. She had to get out of there. She had to get to the party.
George insisted she wait for her, which was so aggravating that she almost lost her high. Maybe Harry falls for all his leading ladies, she thought as she watched George dress. Maybe he'd only said it to shut her up. Oh hell, she had to see him again. But she knew that the chances of getting him alone were now minimal.
Finally George was ready. They almost ran to the audience and saw people clustered round their own family member. Harry's family were sitting high up in the dress circle, now reunited with Dame Alexandra Marmeduke. Famous people were dotted around, but most had already left. George and Jazz spotted their family at the same time. Everyone was there. Even, to Jazz's astonishment, Michael. As they hurried towards them, a few people grinned their congratulations to them both. It was wonderful. Far better than any by-line. Before she reached her family, Jazz noticed Mark and Maddie sitting near the aisle, grinning inanely. They both looked so different out of the office.
She rushed up to them. Maddie gave her a big, warm squeeze and even Mark pecked her cheek. They both seemed very happy.
“You were amazing!” said Maddie.
“Fabulous. You never told us you could act,” said Mark.
“Oh, are you sure you enjoyed it?” asked Jazz, and the question almost echoed round the room, so many people were asking it.
“Loved it,” they said together, and then started laughing. Jazz sensed something a bit strange about them, but was too preoccupied to try and work out what it meant. Outside the office, Mark had shed his bravado completely. He was effusive and charming and Jazz realised how lovely-looking he was.
“By the way,” said Maddie, “Agatha got a call this afternoon from one of her old journalist cronies — used to work with her on Gossip! Well, now she's got three children and she's desperate to come back to writing part-time. I think we may be able to persuade Agatha about you doing a job-share now. Then you can have your weekends back.”
Jazz couldn't believe it. It was all too perfect.
“Excellent!” she squealed. “You are coming to the party, aren't you? We've taken over Flamenco's in Angel Street.”
“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” said Maddie.
“Strictly as guests - not as press,” said Jazz firmly.
“Yip,” said Mark. “Scout's honour.”
She gave them the address of Flamenco's. Then she raced over to her family, walloping various people with her bags and baggage and apologising profusely to all of them.
Martha got to her first but it felt like they were all hugging her at once. Jazz pulled Josie aside. “What's Michael doing here?” she demanded.
Josie grinned. “Well, he said he wanted to see you in the play as you were still officially a relative of his. Then when he came to pick me up and drop off the sitter, he told me that ever since he'd known about me and William he'd been feeling ill. It had made him realise how much he loved me and how near he'd been to losing me. So you can stop feeling guilty now, honey. It looks like you might have saved my marriage.”
Jazz couldn't believe her ears. She hugged Josie till it hurt. Michael came over to them.
“Hi sis,” he said, a little nervously.
“Come here, you,” she said and gave him a hug that was only slightly less painful.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
“Me too,” she whispered back, grinning at Josie over his shoulder.
And then she spotted Harry walking over very slowly. He almost stopped when he saw her hugging Michael, but as soon as their eyes met, she let Michael go. Harry reached them and no one really knew what to do.
George did the introductions. Jazz suddenly felt very guilty, remembering with a stab of horror that the only thing she'd ever told her family about Harry was how rude and arrogant he was, and that he'd called her The Ugly Sister. She wished she'd had a chance to tell them all the latest development . . . then they'd know that it was only thanks to Harry Noble that their family name wasn't mud.
She cringed inwardly when she saw how muted her parents' greeting to him was. It was also very embarrassing to see how much in awe of him they were. He must get this all the time. It was as if they were a lower caste than him or something. No wonder he had become so arrogant. It must be impossible not to. He shook all their hands and then said to her parents, “You have very talented daughters.” Martha beamed majestically at him. “Are you all coming to the party?” he asked with a little cough.
Josie and Michael said yes, Martha and Jeffrey laughed at the very idea.
“Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you,” he said, and raised his eyebrows at Jazz. “See you at the party,” he said to her and wandered off.
Just when George, Josie and Michael were finally ready to go, Jazz suddenly remembered she'd left her make-up bag in her dressing room. While the others went to get the car, she hurtled back through the auditorium, picked it up and whizzed back. As she forced open the doors into the foyer, she saw an old woman sitting on an upright chair against the wall, waiting patiently for someone, her right hand resting on an imposing-looking gilt-edged cane. The woman looked at her and gave her a beautiful smile that lit up her entire face. She must have been a beauty in her day.
“Ravishing, my dear,” she said dramatically. “Simply ravishing.”
Jazz felt embarrassed.
“Thank you,” she smiled and kept on walking.
“I've seen some chemistry in my time, believe me,” the woman continued in a rich, mellow voice, her dark eyes sparkling, “and that was some chemistry.” Then she stopped smiling and looked intently at Jazz. “Never lose that spirit, girl,” she said. “Never lose that fire.”
The old face suddenly saddened, and her eyes looked distant. “But never let it control you,” she said softly, almost to herself.
Jazz's eyes drifted to a black and white still shot, framed and displayed above the woman's head. Olivier, playing Hamlet, was holding his Ophelia - a radiantly young Dame Alexandra Marmeduke. Jazz's body went cold as she realised that the same face was before her now, in living form.
The woman saw her look and nodded graciously, closing her tired eyes.
Exhilarated, Jazz mumbled something about being ever so grateful and ran out into the cold, night air.
Chapter 27
Five minutes later, George was driving Jazz, Josie and Michael from the centre to the north of London where the nightclub was. The windows were open, the music was blaring and Jazz felt on top of the world. But she wished George would drive faster. Every time they got stuck in traffic, she wanted to hurl abuse at the other drivers.
After an eternity, they arrived at the club. It seemed they were the last there. Suddenly Jazz didn't feel so confident. At first she couldn't see anyone from the cast and went to the bar. Mark was standing there, waiting for a drink.