black door.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Me neither.” She was held by his eyes, which caught the hallway light like algae on a sunlit pond. Waist down she was jelly already.
“Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand.” And he did, gently squeezing heat into her palm as he led her into a white hallway. The first thing she saw was her own face smiling nervously into a huge mirror panel. She followed Seth down the passageway, which abruptly gave into an expanse of twinkling lights, people and laughter.
She blinked and wolf-whistled under her breath; she couldn’t help it. Seth was enjoying her reaction. “Does the lady Ophelia approve?”
How could she not? The room was at least forty feet long, hung with gilt-framed oil paintings, mirrors and a chandelier glimmering in the candlelight. Near her was a dining table set for dinner; at the other end she could see a blazing fire and dark wood furnishings. The back wall seemed to be one huge window where the brooding night sky provided a panoramic frieze. As she took it in her eyes fell on the painting nearest to her, showing a howling man on his knees.
“Oedipus.” He was following her gaze.
“Wow.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. The other side of the room seemed to be teeming with people, voices interwoven as they clustered round the fire. Set back a little, as though snoozing in the corner, was a grand piano.
“I didn’t know you were a pianist.”
“I’m not.” Before she had chance to ask more she realised the room had hushed and everyone had turned to look at them. Now she could focus, Rebecca was surprised to see how few people there were – maybe half a dozen. Still holding her hand, Seth led her towards the fire. “Ladies and gentlemen, meet the lovely Ophelia, who also goes by the name Rebecca.”
She felt like a child allowed into an adults’ party. There was a general murmur of hellos. She felt the heat from the fire seeping into her cheeks. The woman nearest to her, blonde and curly haired, flicked her eyes towards Rebecca and Seth’s joined hands before a kind-faced, bearded man came over and kissed her on both cheeks.
“Delighted to meet you. I’m Charles. We’ve heard all about your amazing portrayal of Ophelia from Seth. He hasn’t shut up about you, in fact.”
“And who can blame him?” A huge hulk of a man with a skunk-like stripe of blonde in his light brown hair grinned down at her. “I’m Jake. I’ll be your chef tonight. I ’ope you ’ave a good appetite.” Rebecca wasn’t sure if he was hamming up the strong cockney accent. He winked and she smiled back easily. Noticing neither of the women had approached her she moved towards the tall blonde as the others melted away. “Hi there.”
Seth stepped in. “Rebecca, this is Anna, the grande dame of the group. How’s life as a thirty-something, sweetheart?”
Anna pulled a face. “Ya cheeky fucker. Actually it’s fine now the hangover’s fading.” She spoke with a Northern Irish burr.
Seth dropped Rebecca’s hand to brush what looked like a sliver of potato crisp from Anna’s hair. “Anna’s a marketing whiz who likes to spend her free time with a bunch of no-hope creatives.”
“Ah there’s always hope – even for you, Seth Gardner.” She cocked her head and her smile passed over Rebecca as if accidentally. They were a similar height but Anna was considerably broader, with a huge bob of curly blonde hair and unmissable cleavage. Rebecca turned towards a third man, a mad professor type as her mother would say, with wiry hair and glasses, his eyes hidden as they caught the candlelight.
“I’m Michael.” He grasped her hand and a static shock ran through her, causing them both to jump back a bit.
They shared an embarrassed smile.
“Even his handshake is over-flowing with good intentions.” Seth’s voice was smooth, hard to read. “Michael keeps us on the moral straight and narrow. Unlike José.”
A short
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Me neither.” She was held by his eyes, which caught the hallway light like algae on a sunlit pond. Waist down she was jelly already.
“Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand.” And he did, gently squeezing heat into her palm as he led her into a white hallway. The first thing she saw was her own face smiling nervously into a huge mirror panel. She followed Seth down the passageway, which abruptly gave into an expanse of twinkling lights, people and laughter.
She blinked and wolf-whistled under her breath; she couldn’t help it. Seth was enjoying her reaction. “Does the lady Ophelia approve?”
How could she not? The room was at least forty feet long, hung with gilt-framed oil paintings, mirrors and a chandelier glimmering in the candlelight. Near her was a dining table set for dinner; at the other end she could see a blazing fire and dark wood furnishings. The back wall seemed to be one huge window where the brooding night sky provided a panoramic frieze. As she took it in her eyes fell on the painting nearest to her, showing a howling man on his knees.
“Oedipus.” He was following her gaze.
“Wow.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. The other side of the room seemed to be teeming with people, voices interwoven as they clustered round the fire. Set back a little, as though snoozing in the corner, was a grand piano.
“I didn’t know you were a pianist.”
“I’m not.” Before she had chance to ask more she realised the room had hushed and everyone had turned to look at them. Now she could focus, Rebecca was surprised to see how few people there were – maybe half a dozen. Still holding her hand, Seth led her towards the fire. “Ladies and gentlemen, meet the lovely Ophelia, who also goes by the name Rebecca.”
She felt like a child allowed into an adults’ party. There was a general murmur of hellos. She felt the heat from the fire seeping into her cheeks. The woman nearest to her, blonde and curly haired, flicked her eyes towards Rebecca and Seth’s joined hands before a kind-faced, bearded man came over and kissed her on both cheeks.
“Delighted to meet you. I’m Charles. We’ve heard all about your amazing portrayal of Ophelia from Seth. He hasn’t shut up about you, in fact.”
“And who can blame him?” A huge hulk of a man with a skunk-like stripe of blonde in his light brown hair grinned down at her. “I’m Jake. I’ll be your chef tonight. I ’ope you ’ave a good appetite.” Rebecca wasn’t sure if he was hamming up the strong cockney accent. He winked and she smiled back easily. Noticing neither of the women had approached her she moved towards the tall blonde as the others melted away. “Hi there.”
Seth stepped in. “Rebecca, this is Anna, the grande dame of the group. How’s life as a thirty-something, sweetheart?”
Anna pulled a face. “Ya cheeky fucker. Actually it’s fine now the hangover’s fading.” She spoke with a Northern Irish burr.
Seth dropped Rebecca’s hand to brush what looked like a sliver of potato crisp from Anna’s hair. “Anna’s a marketing whiz who likes to spend her free time with a bunch of no-hope creatives.”
“Ah there’s always hope – even for you, Seth Gardner.” She cocked her head and her smile passed over Rebecca as if accidentally. They were a similar height but Anna was considerably broader, with a huge bob of curly blonde hair and unmissable cleavage. Rebecca turned towards a third man, a mad professor type as her mother would say, with wiry hair and glasses, his eyes hidden as they caught the candlelight.
“I’m Michael.” He grasped her hand and a static shock ran through her, causing them both to jump back a bit.
They shared an embarrassed smile.
“Even his handshake is over-flowing with good intentions.” Seth’s voice was smooth, hard to read. “Michael keeps us on the moral straight and narrow. Unlike José.”
A short
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