The Secrets of Primrose Square

by Claudia Carroll

  ‘He’s far too modest,’ said Jayne for him. ‘But the truth is that Eric’s net worth is considerably more than mine, and you know something else? That means absolutely nothing to me at all. We found each other, we’re happy and that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘It’s probably the biggest life lesson that I ever learned,’ Eric said, with a little smile in Jayne’s direction. ‘You may think that money solves problems but it doesn’t at all. All it does is bring in a whole heap of new problems. There I was, rich as Croesus, but I wasn’t happy.’

  ‘And neither was I,’ said Jayne, gazing back at him.

  ‘I was lonely. Real lonely after my wife passed.’

  ‘Sure I was the very same after my Tom died.’

  ‘Then somehow we found each other,’ Eric said, reaching out to take Jayne’s hand. ‘And now it’s like the world has gone from black and white to glorious technicolour.’

  ‘Couldn’t have put it better myself.’ Jayne beamed back at him. ‘Now come on, girls, eat up. And we’ll have no more rudeness around this table for the rest of the evening, thanks very much. If you can’t say something nice, then I strongly suggest you say nothing at all.’

  Melissa

  DUBLIN AIRPORT

  Everyone kept telling Melissa that things would get better after Ella’s anniversary, and so far, they were certainly right. Her dad had gone off to Lebanon again and she’d moved back into Jayne’s. Thankfully, though, her dad had applied for a transfer back to Dublin, so this time he’d only be gone for a few weeks at the most. And Jayne’s horrible twin granddaughters, Holly and Molly, had gone back to their own house, which was one less thing to worry about.

  Melissa knew the twins vaguely from school, although they were fourth years and a good bit ahead of her. But even in school everyone said they were a pair of holy terrors, who someone had nicknamed The Bitches of Eastwick.

  Melissa moved back into the spare room, relieved that they’d both gone, and even Eric, who never said a bad word about anyone, mentioned that the energy in the house seemed ‘so much lighter now’.

  Her dad’s flight back to Lebanon was early on Saturday morning and Melissa waved him goodbye at the airport, trying her very best not to let him see her cry. Then something very weird happened. It turned out that Jayne, who’d insisted on getting out of bed extra early to drive them all there, had a little surprise up her sleeve.

  ‘We’re not going home after all.’ She’d smiled, as she and Melissa zoomed out of the airport car park. ‘I’m taking you somewhere a little bit special today instead.’

  Jayne wouldn’t say another word, though, no matter how hard Melissa tried to guess what was going on. Then, to her complete astonishment, Jayne pulled up at the National Theatre, right in the city centre.

  Melissa glanced out the window, where a bunch of actors were drifting into the building, looking a bit bleary-eyed and all carrying take-out cups of coffee. Just then, though, a familiar face came smiling through the main door of the theatre, rushing over to open the car door with a huge big grin on her face.

  ‘Well, here’s my VIP guest for the day!’ said Nancy, looking as cool as she always did, in skinny jeans, flats and a chunky warm jumper. ‘Come on, Melissa. Lots of people here are dying to meet you; they’ve heard all about you.’

  ‘Nancy!’ said Melissa, looking from her to Jayne and back again, not having a clue what the two of them had cooked up between them. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘It’s our very first full run-through this morning.’ Nancy grinned. ‘So Jayne and I thought that, as a little treat, you might like to see the show for yourself, first hand. A bit like your own private viewing, really. A very special showing, for a very special VIP guest. So what do you think? Are you game?’

  Melissa was so overwhelmed she could barely bring herself to answer. ‘Thank you,’ was all she could keep whispering to Jayne and Nancy as she clambered eagerly out of the car. ‘I thought this would be such a sad day, with Dad gone and everything, but now it’s turned into, like, the best day ever.’

  She looked down to see a single white feather floating down onto the pavement. And she smiled.

  Nancy

  NATIONAL THEATRE

  It really was astonishing, Nancy thought, to see your own job, career and colleagues filtered through the prism of someone else’s eyes. But given that the cast of Pride and Prejudice were about to perform an adaptation of Jane Austen’s most beloved novel to an audience of exactly one, no one could possibly have asked for that audience to be as enthusiastic and encouraging as Melissa.

  Once Melissa had got over the initial shock and awe of actually being in the National, Nancy took her by the hand and gently guided her upstairs to the backstage area, which impressed the kid no end.

  ‘Wow, you’ve got an actual rehearsal room!’ she squealed, as Nancy led her inside and showed her around the huge, wide open space, with its balcony view that almost seemed to overlook the whole city.

  ‘This is incredible!’ she kept saying, over and over again. ‘I almost feel like I can see my house from here!’

  ‘Now, be well warned,’ Nancy explained, ‘what you’re about to see is really just a “stagger-through”, which means that for the very first time the whole cast will perform the entire show, off-book and hopefully with as few stumbles as possible.’

  ‘What does “off-book” mean?’ Melissa asked, wide-eyed as Nancy steered her around the rehearsal room and on through to the green room, where the cast were all clustered around the coffee machine, eagerly looking for a good, strong caffeine hit to kickstart the morning.

  ‘It’s when you know all your lines off by heart,’ Nancy explained. ‘But I’m expecting a lot of hiccups along the way this morning, so it’s not the end of the world if any actor dries on us. The main thing is that everyone, myself included, can just pull through it. The fine tuning can come later.’

  ‘Hey, this must be our VIP guest for the day,’ said Alan, leaping up out of his seat and abandoning a half-eaten croissant, as he bounded over to say hi. Nancy introduced him to Melissa, who shook his hand with a shy little blush.

  ‘It’s great to meet you, Melissa,’ he said, with an exaggerated little half-bow, as he wiped crumbs from his face, ‘and I’m only hoping that we don’t mess up too much during the stagger-through this morning.’

  ‘Mistakes will happen.’ Nancy smiled. ‘I’m allowing for that.’

  ‘Well, now, isn’t that very interesting?’ he said with a cheeky grin. ‘It’s good to know that the assistant director doesn’t mind any of us making a pig’s ear of the show. I might well end up quoting that back at you before the day is out.’

  ‘I was about to say, mistakes will happen today,’ Nancy teased right back. ‘But just as long as you’re word perfect on the big night, that’s all that matters.’

  Melissa looked way too overwhelmed to join in the chat, though. Instead she just stared up at Alan, almost like she was seeing some kind of a religious vision.

  ‘I know you,’ she stammered. ‘I mean, I know your face really well . . . from telly and movies, I mean . . . You’re, like . . . famous. I mean, really famous . . . ’

  ‘Well,’ Alan said modestly, ‘I did do one or two films, but only bit parts, you know how it is.’

  ‘OMG, now I remember!’ Melissa squealed excitedly. ‘You were in . . . one of the Harry Potter movies, weren’t you?’

  ‘All thanks to my red hair, yes, I did have a cough and a spit in one of them.’ Alan grinned cheekily. ‘You’re a fan of Harry Potter, then?’

  ‘Are you kidding me?’ Melissa said. ‘I’ve, like . . . read all the books and seen the movies so many times, I almost know them off by heart!’

  ‘Well, in that case, when we get a lunchbreak today, how about I tell you a few tales from behind the scenes?’ Alan very kindly offered, and Nancy had to smile at the look on Melissa’s little face. The child actually looked like she was about to expire on the spot.

>   Mbeki came over to say hi too, immediately bonding with Melissa when she admired the pink spangly top the kid was wearing.

  ‘Atomic pink.’ Mbeki grinned that gorgeous wide smile of hers. ‘My favourite colour ever. I always think there just isn’t enough atomic pink in the world.’

  Then Mbeki caught Nancy’s eye and something very weird happened. Her whole expression seemed to change, and she looked at Nancy almost like she was seeing her for the very first time.

  ‘Maybe you and me can have a little talk after work?’ was all she said quietly.

  Did I just imagine that, Nancy wondered, or has something happened?

  ‘Of course,’ she answered immediately, wondering what was up. ‘Did you need to have a chat about the production?’

  ‘No,’ Mbeki said quietly. ‘As a matter of fact, it’s not about work at all. It’s, well . . . actually, it’s personal.’

  Suddenly concerned, Nancy was just about to ask her pal if she was okay. Man trouble, maybe? Or maybe Diego was giving Mbeki a tough time and she needed to let off a bit of steam? She didn’t get a chance to ask any more, though, because next thing they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who’d ambled over to say hello, as graciously as the Queen greeting a line-up at a Buckingham Palace tea party.

  ‘Well, now, this must be the famous Melissa I’ve been hearing so much about.’ Lady Catherine beamed, as Melissa gaped up at her, utterly mesmerised. ‘It’s so wonderful to meet you. And you must forgive us if there are one or two stumbles in performance today. Some of us,’ she added, raising her voice pointedly in the direction of Mrs Bennet, who was sitting within earshot, ‘decided it would be a wonderful idea to go out on the town last night. The evening before a full run-through – can you imagine anything less professional?’

  ‘I heard that!’ Mrs Bennet growled back in a voice that sounded like she’d had about an hour’s sleep. ‘And I’ll have you know I had a grand total of two drinks last night and then went home to bed.’

  ‘You’d sound an awful lot more convincing, dearie,’ Lady Catherine retorted, ‘if you didn’t have a large pack of Solpadeine in her hand, you know. I really think we should consider awarding you some sort of nickname. Solpacheina is what I’d suggest.’

  ‘Oh my God, do those two really hate each other?’ Melissa hissed up at Nancy with big saucery eyes, looking utterly horrified.

  ‘Don’t you worry a bit,’ Nancy told her reassuringly, ‘wait till you see the two of them onstage. The fireworks between them are extraordinary. If they can keep it up right through to opening night, I’ll be one happy assistant director.’

  Then Nancy steered Melissa towards a seat just behind her own desk in the rehearsal room, where the stage management crew were already setting up for the first scene of the play.

  ‘This is just incredible!’ Melissa whispered to her. ‘I’m so crazy excited.’

  ‘Let’s hope you still think that when you’ve seen the play,’ Nancy replied, just as a text message pinged through on her phone.

  ‘So you and our Nancy are neighbours then, I hear?’ Alan chatted away to Melissa, pulling on a Regency frock coat, which looked so incongruous with his jeans, it was laughable.

  ‘Oh, she’s just the coolest neighbour you could ever ask for,’ Melissa answered loyally, as Nancy quickly scanned down through her phone.

  ‘And have you ever heard of this mysterious landlord of hers, this Sam, what’s his name?’ Alan probed. ‘Filthy wealthy with a high-spec townhouse in the centre of town . . . Now I wonder what she could possibly see in him?’ he added with a cheeky smile in Nancy’s direction.

  The text was from him, from Sam, which came as absolutely no surprise to Nancy. But then again, just about ninety per cent of all the messages she was getting on a daily basis seemed to be from him.

  Good morning all the way from sunny Shanghai, Nancy. How’s your Saturday shaping up? Like you, I’m working today, but it’s evening time here and the corporation HQ offices are deserted and I’m the only one here. I need distractions . . . Text me back!

  Which, of course, Nancy did. Straightaway, before rehearsals started.

  Oh poor you, on your six-figure salary. Tough at the top, is it?

  ‘She’s gone dangerously quiet on us,’ Alan said teasingly. ‘That means she’s in the middle of another text marathon with Mr Wonderful.’

  ‘Well, whoever he is, I wish he’d come back to Ireland soon.’ Melissa smiled happily. ‘We’re all so dying to meet him. Nancy and I have had great fun playing detectives and trying to guess what he’s like, from all the photos of him back at his house.’

  ‘Is that so?’ said Alan, looking right at Nancy, as she blushed bright red and clicked send on her text. But Sam’s next one came through so fast, their messages must have crossed in mid-air.

  I can see the setting sun from my office, Nancy. And I wish, I genuinely wish you were here to see it with me. Then we could maybe have a drink in a great little bar I know – am I tempting you? Then dinner in a restaurant near my hotel, where I happen to know they serve the best dim sum in town. Sound good to you? What do you think? I know you’re over there and I’m over here, but hey. You can’t blame a man for dreaming, can you?

  She read it. Then re-read it to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Then yet another text from him.

  On second thoughts, maybe we’ll just have to settle for dim sum back in Dublin, when I’m home? What do you say?

  She flushed but didn’t have time to reply as, just then, Diego Fernandez barged in with a curt ‘Hello, good morning,’ to the room, before reminding Nancy in his gruff, broken English, ‘We start showing of play when you are ready. Please to everyone can you prepare up for Act One, Scene One?’

  Immediately, Nancy switched the phone off, as Diego took his place beside her at the director’s table with Mbeki to her left and Melissa directly behind, as excited as a little puppy.

  There was a brief little kerfuffle as everyone took a moment to settle down, and in the melee, Mbeki took the chance to grab Nancy’s attention discreetly.

  ‘Can you and me can grab a drink after work?’ she whispered, so only Nancy could hear her.

  ‘Of course,’ Nancy hissed back. ‘I just hope everything is all right with you, honey? Nothing wrong, I hope?’

  ‘Not with me,’ Mbeki said quietly. She looked right at Nancy unflinchingly.

  In that moment, Nancy’s blood ran cold.

  She knows. Someone’s told her. There’s no doubt about it, she knows.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Nancy managed to stammer.

  ‘I think that you’ve been keeping a secret,’ Mbeki said calmly. ‘And I think it’s time we talked.’

  Nancy didn’t have time to react or think or even answer, though, because next thing, Diego grunted at her.

  ‘When you are prepared, Nancy,’ he said, in that heavy Spanish accent, getting lots of words wrong as per usual, ‘you can initiate the performance.’

  Nancy froze. Jesus Christ, she thought. Was this really happening? Now? Of all times? Just when she was expected to conduct a full run-through of the show for the very first time? And with Melissa there too?

  It was like every eye in the room turned her way and she knew she’d have to sink or swim. Come on, she willed herself. You’re a pro, so act like one. Put on your work face now and you can collapse later.

  ‘Okay, everyone,’ Nancy said, standing up on wobbly legs and addressing the room, aware of Mbeki’s eyes boring into her. ‘Welcome to our very first cast stagger-through, and a particularly warm welcome to our very special guest, Miss Melissa Hayes, who’s joining us for the day.’

  There was a generous ripple of applause and one or two whoops, led by Alan, which made Melissa beam broadly and squirm in her seat at the same time.

  ‘Now we’re not expecting perfection here, far from it,’ Nancy went on, feeling more and more self-assured the more she spoke. ‘All we ask is that you try and get through the show, scene by scene, without
referring to your scripts and working to performance level. We’ll be timing you, so if you need a line, just call for it. And if things go wrong – which they inevitably will – just bear in mind we have a very distinguished audience of one here,’ she added, with a respectful little nod in Melissa’s direction, ‘so keep going and remember, that’s what rehearsals are for. Like I always say, we’re here to fail, but let’s try our best not to.

  ‘So when you’re ready, Act One, Scene One . . . Action!   ’

  Susan

  ST MICHAEL’S WELLNESS CENTRE

  From the journal of Susan Hayes

  Oh my darling Ella, my perfect girl. If you only knew how much we missed you. If you knew how much you’re missed on Primrose Square too. Before I was admitted here to St Michael’s, I bumped into Dr Khan across the road and she described you as ‘the life and soul of the square.’ And you were, Ella. You really were.

  Susan broke off from writing there and instead focused on looking out the bedroom window onto the park below. The spring daffodils were out in force and, with a sudden pang, she realised how much she missed Primrose Square, which was always particularly beautiful at this time of year.

  Will I ever get home ? she wondered, suddenly homesick for her own lovely house, for Frank and, most of all, for Melissa. Will they ever let me out of here?

  It had been cold and drizzly earlier, but it had cleared up now and she could have gone outside for a bit of fresh air if she’d wanted to. She could have done a whole load of things if she’d wanted to, but somehow she just couldn’t be arsed.

  That was the thing about places like St Michael’s, she was beginning to learn: they sapped your energy until it felt like quite enough of an effort just to stare out the window and spend the afternoon talking complete shite with Emily. Time passed so slowly here, even just a bare hour felt like a whole day when you’d absolutely nothing to do and no way of filling in the time. Surely there was only so much introspection and navel-gazing anyone could take, before you ended up even more off your head than you were before you were admitted?