Bad Actor

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  He jumps in the car and flings his bag over into the passenger seat, kissing my cheek at the same time.

  “She didn’t change her mind?”

  “No,” he huffs, putting on his belt.

  Within ten minutes we’re on the motorway and racing towards the south. Adam called me last night just as I was booking rail tickets – and I decided I’d drive to save myself and him the money. I think he’s planning to spend the night with a friend – sad times for him and Susan.

  We have a few hours before reaching Watford, where I’ll park the car for free. We’ll get the Tube the rest of the way. It’s still only nine in the morning, so that might be one of the reasons for his mood, but I decide to tackle the beast anyway.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, waiting to be admonished.

  “Nope.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you want to talk about you and Theo?”

  He turns his body more towards me and I can’t help showing my embarrassment.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “Oh, come on. He called me the other night, asking if I knew where you were. I was like, ‘I’m not her keeper’, then he demanded I find out. We almost had a row before he blurted it all out, like a lovesick teenager. Man, that guy has got it bad. I hope you know what you’ve let yourself in for.”

  I start panicking and blow out a big breath, thankful the motorway isn’t too crowded yet.

  “Was this Wednesday night?” I mumble.

  “Yes, it bloody was. I was playing pool and it ate into my evening, so I reckon I deserve an apology, thank you very much.”

  I grumble under my breath and he demands, “Pardon, what was that?”

  He does have a joking tone buried in his anguish, but I also know he’s probably a bit pissed off to be dragged into other people’s stuff when he has enough of his own.

  “What do you know about his mother?” It’s out there before I can take it back.

  He doesn’t connect the dots because when I glance over, his mouth is upturned with confusion.

  “Only that she’s Miss Havisham incarnate for the modern age.”

  I laugh, almost hysterically. “Are you being serious?”

  “I’m being deadly serious. Has Theo not told you what she’s really like?”

  “Not a sausage.”

  “Well, I’ve heard some stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like she would only pay for drama school if he promised not to get a girlfriend while he was gone.”

  “WHAT?”

  “Well, he could’ve and not told her, how are we to know?”

  I wonder if it’s true… I wonder if he didn’t have a girlfriend while he was away…

  “What else?” I beg him.

  “Before they moved up north, he was at boarding school and she’d leave him there for weeks at a time without visits home. After they moved up here allegedly because of her health, she would go away for months on end, leaving him with his aunt down the road. She’d be on a cruise or a safari and she’d leave him at home on purpose. His aunt would say that’s not love… that his mother isn’t every mother.”

  I gulp hard. “I see.”

  “He wasn’t allowed to invite friends home if his mother was in the country, we only ever went round when she was abroad and we’d all get trashed, piss in the pot plants and defecate on her roses.”

  I snort with laughter and he can’t help but burst into full-on laughter.

  “He hates her, Lily. He tolerates her because she’s all he has. He’ll always do the right thing by her, that’s who he is. But we all know she’s sitting on millions and doesn’t have any intention of giving up any of her money until she’s dead and it’s prised out of her cold, dead hands. She doesn’t want him to have it easy because she never did. She married some rich old bastard and had Theo, knowing he didn’t have long and would make her rich in his will. We looked her up one time and found some articles… reckon Theo never went looking, maybe he didn’t want to know… but she split this guy Marius Lombardi from his family and four kids. He was this well-known artist in Italy, this painter of a generation or something. Theo has never mentioned anything about his brothers and sisters… I mean, does he even know?”

  It all turns my stomach. “Do you think she married out of convenience and that this Lombardi was usurped? She might have already been up the duff? If he was much older?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. People still study his work, he was famous.”

  I drive and we eventually meet the M1. The driving becomes a little more challenging and it’s only when we hit a 50mph zone that I come back to the topic again.

  “She called and asked me over to dinner. That’s where I was Wednesday night.”

  “Oh, fuck,” he almost yells, and I can tell he definitely thinks that was a bad idea.

  “I’ll have to tell Theo where I was?”

  “Yeah, you will. What the fuck did she say?”

  “Well, she was trying to befriend me.” I won’t tell him details, if only to prevent stuff getting to Theo third-hand. “She was trying to be nice, but now you’ve said what you’ve said, I’m wondering if there’s more to it than doing the dutiful thing.”

  “She told you not to mention the dinner with Theo?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you know in your gut, she must have some kind of ulterior motive.”

  “I don’t like it, Adam.”

  We get stuck in some traffic that’s at a standstill; I’m not worried because we’ve got plenty of time and it’ll shift eventually on this stretch, it always does. I put the car in neutral and hang on to the wheel.

  “Listen, Lily… maybe it was teenage angst, maybe they have a better relationship now…”

  “…or maybe she is a Miss Havisham who doesn’t want her heir to ever have the happiness she missed out on?”

  “Or Theo feels sorry for her these days because she’s unwell?”

  “Or she’s pulling an act and is actually still pretty active, at least when Theo’s not around, which he hasn’t been for a while. He’s been touring, living in London for the past five years, he’s made every effort not to be in Leeds… and even when he is, he mostly stays with friends.”

  “Fuck, I don’t know Lily.”

  “I’ll talk it over with Theo tonight. There’s no point in conjecturing, we don’t know the full story.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  The traffic starts moving again and we’re speeding up gradually, praise be.

  “Susan wants a baby but I have a low sperm count,” he blurts out.

  I spend a couple of minutes wondering if I’ve heard right, then I turn to see him looking into his lap.

  “And?” I know she really loves him. “The reason you’re fighting…?”

  “She wants IVF and I’ve said I’m not adding that to the list of stuff she’s had her dad pay for. Bricks and mortar are one thing, my balls are another. I’m not letting him pay for my balls to be sorted out.”

  I laugh, I can’t help it. “I’m sorry, Adam.”

  “Yeah, you sound it,” he groans.

  “So, she’s mad with you?”

  “She’s mostly sad.”

  “But you’re young, what’s the hurry?”

  “I don’t know. She’s got this… I don’t know… irrational thing… like it needs to be ticked off the list. I’ve said why don’t we keep trying and if we don’t conceive by the time we’re thirty, then we can do it on the NHS. But she won’t have it. She’s been looking into savings schemes and how we can do it earlier.”

  I can see this from both sides of the argument, but I’m also Adam’s friend first and foremost, and if this was any partner of mine, I’d be putting them first.

  “It’s not fair on you, Ads.” I reach over for his hand, squeezing briefly before changing gear. “But maybe there’s more to it. She lost her mother when she was young.”

  “I know,” he whisp
ers.

  “It’s been hard for you, babe?” I ask him.

  “It’s been surreal,” he admits, scratching his head. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s biology trying to tell me something. I never considered a family before meeting Suze.”

  “Have you looked into natural remedies? Therapies? Things might… I don’t know… and you never know.”

  “It’s tested us, Lily. She won’t listen to reason. It’s like it’s an item on a shopping list. Like my balls are in the Supermarket Sweep aisles somewhere, if only she could find them, maybe everything will be okay. I really don’t know how to get through to her. She isn’t treating it like this is happening to me, too. She thinks I don’t care. She doesn’t see I’m just trying to be real about things and when it comes to this, I’m not taking her dad’s fucking money.”

  He starts crying in the car and I pull into the slow lane and take his hand as I take it steady.

  “You’re your own man and that makes you more of a guy than most, even with a few sperm lost in the back alley of your balls.”

  He chokes on laughter and tears at the same time.

  “If she doesn’t see sense soon, I’ll speak to her for you.”

  “Would you?” He looks relieved.

  “Yes, but the question is, does she love you more than she loves the idea of it? The full set, so to speak. She has to figure that out.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mumbles, “she could have anybody.”

  “And she still married you. You. Out of everybody I know, you are the last person who deserves this, Ads. The very last person. You’ve done nothing but love her.”

  “I’ve tried to, even through this.”

  Eventually, he catches his breath and I turn on the radio. The motorway becomes clearer and I start racing along again.

  “Wait until you see, Theo. Just wait, Adam. He’s utterly electrifying. You’re going to be so proud, you’re not going to believe it’s him, you’re not. Trust me.”

  He nods his head. “I can’t wait. But you do know what you’ve let yourself in for?”

  “What’s that?” I fear what he’s going to say next.

  “He’s not like any of the rest of us, he’s deeper and much more complex. He’s going to go on this spectacular journey… and he’s going to need you every step of the way.”

  “I know,” I agree. “I know who he is. I think I’ve always known. Always feared it. And coming through what I did with Paul, I think it made me see that I can conquer anything if I can get through that.”

  “I’m happy for you both,” he says, with genuine emotion. “But do not ever let it get back to Paul.”

  “Why?” I gasp with fear.

  Adam turns fully towards me and curls his lip. “That man only realises what he’s lost when it’s much too late. And if he takes one step too close to you, Paul will be dead, trust me. Theo won’t be able to control himself. How do you think he plays all those Shakespearean heroes, huh? He’s fucking descended from one. He is one. You didn’t hear him on the phone the other night. Paul’s in South Korea but because you were out of reach for like two hours, he went mental. He would die protecting you. He will do anything for you.”

  I press on ahead, trying to not let his words get to me, but they do… they fucking do.

  “Lily?” he says after a while.

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t tell him about my problem. Please?”

  “If you want.”

  “Lily, come on, please. He’s probably got enough to make a dozen babies. I don’t want him to know.”

  “He’s your friend, Adam. He’s not some mythical fertility god, which if he were by the way, he’d definitely help you out.”

  “Lily,” he demands.

  “I won’t say a word; I’ll tell him you and Suze are just going through some money stuff. There, I’m not lying and neither are you. It is money stuff.”

  “Fine,” he huffs, and I try to forget about all the things racing around my brain as we draw ever closer to London.

  My heart is pounding and I’m shaking like a leaf as I weave my way through the Garrick’s maze of back-room corridors and seek Theo’s dressing room after the show. Adam’s getting some drinks in and still trying to convince himself that the guy up there tonight was, in fact, his childhood best friend – and not some figment of his imagination.

  People know who I am now so there shouldn’t be any reason for me to worry about getting back here after the show, and yet, I can’t control how I’m feeling. The last time I saw Theo in the flesh was last Sunday evening, when we had a very tearful parting and I boarded my train dreading the week ahead.

  This week has been a grind and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Allegra’s words or the way she bombarded me with her tale. Her words blindsided me and left me with questions about what to say to Theo… about how to handle the whole thing.

  I tap on his door and he growls, “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, baby.”

  “Come in and lock the door,” he rumbles.

  I swallow hard. He sounds raw. He looked raw on stage, too.

  What does he know? What is he thinking? Who will I find on the other side of that door?

  There’s no time like the present.

  I get myself in quickly and spin round, facing the door as I lock it, without having given myself time to really take in his demeanour. I take some deep breaths before turning and finding his bare chest heaving up and down, every defined muscle rippling with every breath.

  Theo’s gaze travels the length of my body, heating every pore of my skin.

  I swallow hard at the sight of him, dressed only in his black leggings or body stocking things that they wear beneath their various costumes. The waist is bunched so I can see the beginnings of his V, his hard muscles intersecting, brutally defining his lower body from his upper.

  It looks like he’s been hit by a train and I feel like it. It’s been pure torture living apart this past week. Every night I’ve lain in bed after our phone calls willing his arms to come around me from the darkness, his voice to whisper something soft in my ear… his hair through my fingers, his warmth against my body.

  I’m wearing something special for him tonight. A tiny electric-blue dress with a structured body but flared skirt, short, just as he likes. My breasts are also on show and I couldn’t give a fuck about rules of fashion. I wanted him to see my boobs and legs the moment he saw me.

  “Where were you on Wednesday night?” he growls madly, and I realise it’s a mixture of lust and anguish making him look so perilous, like he might lose it any second.

  “For those two hours?” I query.

  “Two hours I wasn’t allowed to call you. Where were you?” he asks again.

  I take some small, gentle steps towards him and remind him, “It was two hours. Don’t you trust me?”

  His face twitches with uncertainty and he says, “If you’d told me who you were meeting, of course, but the secrecy,” he mildly growls, “the insincerity when I asked you where you were when I asked later that night…”

  “I could’ve been having a colonic and didn’t want you to know,” I strop, but he doesn’t think it’s funny, narrowing his eyes and folding his arms, drawing my eyes to the way his arms are pumping with blood, the veins popping and bulging. “Maybe I was working on a treat for you.”

  His expression doesn’t change and he commands, “You’ll tell me, Lily.”

  “Or what?”

  He walks closer and I can smell the scent of his sweat and the dustiness of the theatre in his clothes.

  “I’ll fuck it out of you,” he growls.

  “You think I want your filthy hands on me when you don’t trust me?”

  “I think you want my filthy hands all over you. Look at you in this dress, begging me to pay attention.”

  I take a step closer so we’re almost nose to nose. “You’re a dirty, filthy brute.”

  “You’ll tell me, Lily,” he commands
, coming at me so fast, I don’t have chance to put up any fight.

  When Theo Richards kisses a woman, he doesn’t just make her go weak at the knees, he makes her whole body turn immediately and intensively to fire. I’m drawn into him and taken in the most brutal way, crushed to his body as he kisses me madly, passionately… demanding I succumb. My pussy contracts just from his kisses and the power of his love makes my legs shake with need.

  I hold his bare skin in my hands and cry out when the heel of his hand touches my clit as he slips his fingers into me.

  I didn’t wear big panties tonight, thank god. Just my usual scrap of lace.

  I hold his head to my throat, crying out as he kisses my sensitive skin and stretches open my vagina for the coming onslaught.

  My feet barely touch the ground as I’m carried to the wall at the furthest end of the room.

  He pushes down his waistband and the beauty of his cock and hips, naked and aroused, makes me light-headed to the point of insanity. All this, just for me. He grasps my breasts out of the plunging neckline of my dress and licks in circles around my nipples, tugging my leg off the floor and around his hip as he gets into position. I have my hand dug in his hair and my arm wrapped around his neck as he kisses my mouth raggedly, tongue dipping in now and again between nipping my bottom lip and sucking the top.

  “Fuck,” I groan, when he pushes the head of his cock inside me, “fuck.”

  I take some deep breaths and he pauses, holds my leg more firmly and my bum. He presses his nose to mine and asks, “Tell me where you were.”

  “I’ll tell you after you’ve fucked me.”

  “Tell me,” he growls.

  “I love you, isn’t that enough?” A tear falls down my cheek and his face contorts at the sight of it, reminded I feel just as much as him. If not more.

  I know what it’s like to be loved by him, to be in the grip of his will, to be thrown up into the tornado that is Theo Richards and tossed back down to earth almost completely annihilated. Doesn’t he see that he holds so much more power? That he’s the one who can make me or break me? That when I’m with him, I come alive in ways I never have before, that he’s my everything and I don’t want anyone else… ever again.