Finding Jessica Lambert, page 23
“I asked to see you alone,” Anna said, you could almost see the chill in her breath, “to save embarrassment for us both.”
“Anna, I didn’t know…I don’t know how to…”
“What? What didn’t you know?” Anna’s fingers curled into fists at her sides.
Jess cursed her brain for seizing. All those scenarios that she’d practised, they jumbled together making no sense and tying her tongue.
“Enlighten me,” Anna snapped. Jess twitched at her voice, so saturated with resentment.
“I…” Her head throbbed as if all those jumbled words were pounding inside her skull, trying to get out. If she could just have a moment to untie them all.
“Did it not occur to you to mention the precise nature of your job? Your status? Your obvious fame?” Anna tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed as she looked down.
Jess opened her mouth, but she couldn’t even breathe.
“At what point, exactly, did you think it appropriate to explain what was so obvious to everyone else?” Anna glared at her, waiting. “Do you think that was fair?”
The words and thoughts locked together and no matter how much Jess willed an explanation none would come.
“Say something!” Anna shouted.
“I’m sorry,” Jess blurted out. She recoiled at Anna’s words.
“For what?”
Jess took another step back. It had taken every effort to vocalise that feeling.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“For lying?”
“For….” Jess wished several times over that she’d never been a film star, never been famous. She wished that she’d been on a London Underground carriage for any other reason so that Anna could have taken her in, flirted, walked and loved together with no complication.
“I’m sorry for how this has happened. I wish it could have been another way.”
Anna took a step forward and loomed over Jess. “But not sorry for anything else?” She seemed incredulous. “That when I took you to my flat, you didn’t explain exactly why someone might be following you or why people were photographing you?”
“I…” Jess wrapped her arms around herself.
“There are photos of us all over the Internet. Apparently there are multiple views of us on the London Underground, you with your face buried in my chest.”
“Oh god, no. I didn’t know. I’ve been avoiding social media.”
“Perhaps you could have explained the next day, when you’d had a chance to gather your thoughts over a cooked breakfast and enjoyed my hospitality.”
The guilt bit hard at that.
“Or perhaps you could have worked it into our chat at the park?”
All those lovely times.
“I didn’t realise why.”
“Why what?”
“Please,” Jess begged. She just needed some time to gather her thoughts into coherent sentences. “I didn’t understand why you didn’t recognise me. I thought perhaps I wasn’t as famous as I feared. I didn’t realise,” she paused, “you were hiding too.”
The contempt on Anna’s face relented a little. “At first, I will give you that.”
“You didn’t explain straight away,” Jess said quietly. “Do you think I would have treated you differently if you’d told me?”
“What? That I’m a sorry recluse, a has-been and spectacularly behind the times? Yes, most people do treat me differently when they find out,” Anna snapped.
“But I might not have done.”
The wind seemed to have abated in Anna’s sails. “We’ll never know,” she said, voice clipped.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” Jess said quietly, “constantly over the last few days. All of it. And,” she couldn’t help a sob or the warm tear that ran down her cheek, “you’re right, I’ll never know if you would have treated me the same way, and I’ve been kicking myself that I didn’t give you the chance earlier.”
Anna glared at her in challenge.
“Would you have taken me in?” Jess asked. “Would we have flirted and chatted in the same way?” She couldn’t help the smile on her lips as she recalled. “Because it was lovely. No-one has treated me like that in years.”
Anna’s appearance remained stony.
“Haven’t you experienced that?” Jess offered. “Didn’t you have the same, when people want to be seen with you? When no-one talks to you for your company anymore.”
“I was never as ridiculously famous as you. It wasn’t a problem.”
Ouch. Jess drew breath at the comment but tried to carry on with her thoughts of several days.
“Staying with you was the first time anyone wanted my company for a long while. The first time I relaxed and put aside every mask. It was so refreshing to enjoy company as myself and have that person enjoy me too. That is so rare for me. I’m sorry I indulged.” Her throat strangled. “I thought you’d change if I told you, then I was too swept up to stop.”
Anna closed her eyes.
How would Anna have changed? Perhaps not in the way Jess had first feared.
“I have worn so many masks over the years, playing a role, trying to fit in,” Jess said. “It’s always disconcerting to see how people respond to them all, and even more when they find the person I am underneath. You saw me, just Jess, and I was scared you wouldn’t see me for who I really am anymore or, worse, wouldn’t want to see the real me anymore,” Jess said gently.
Anna’s eyes snapped open. “A liar? Someone I can’t trust? Someone I don’t know at all?”
And Jess's head dropped.
Anna seemed to rein in her anger. “I can understand,” she said. “A little. I do empathise with wanting a break from people’s preconceptions.” As ever, Jess admired Anna’s articulation and ability to think on her feet. “But christ,” Anna said more sharply, “you should have told me before you slept with me.” And she folded her arms protectively over her chest.
Jess felt a ton of guilt and regret and closed her eyes, trying to keep her thoughts clear. “I didn’t sleep with you, we slept together, and we slept together thinking we might not see each other again. Would it have mattered then?”
“What?”
“When I left? When I didn’t think I’d be back in London? A one-night stand. Would it have mattered then?”
Anna was silent.
“I didn’t know that you were once an actress,” Jess said quietly. “I still don’t know everything about you.”
Anna looked away over the seating in the auditorium.
“I’m not trying to say what I’ve done is right,” Jess offered. “That I feel so bad about it makes it obvious it wasn’t. I didn’t plan to mislead you but, at the same time, I doubt I would have met you any other way. And…” she gulped, “I really want to know you more than anything.”
Anna snapped her head round. “We’ll never know if we would have hit it off any other way.”
Jess’s shoulders slumped. Anna wasn’t listening.
“As soon as I heard I could stay in London I was going to tell you,” Jess said desperately.
Anna turned on her heel. “But you didn’t,” she said loud over her shoulder.
“Penny…” Jess stopped herself. She didn’t want to get Anna’s friend into trouble.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Anna said, rifling through her bag on the table. “You’re not dropping Penny in it. She was there when I found out. I heard you on the radio, recognised your voice, and I looked like a complete and utter fool.”
“I’m sorry,” Jess murmured. “I’m so sorry.”
She could have screamed. Her brain was still tied in knots of regret and at the same time clinging on to the knowledge that they never would have become involved otherwise.
“All I can say,” Jess started, “is that I’ve been trying to tell you all week. Even though I knew you would be hurt and I risked not seeing you again. I value honesty and truth. In this business I’ve seen so little and it’s worn me down. I hate that I’ve got into this mess with you, misled you and ended up lying.” She was breathing hard. “I hoped you’d understand how it happened. I hoped you would still want to see me when I explained.”
Anna stopped, turned and seemed to look right inside her. “Like I said, now we’ll never know.”
Chapter 36.
Anna could hear her mother’s voice in her own and the chilling realisation forced her to retreat. She rattled around in her shoulder bag and checked her phone as an excuse to distance herself from Jess. She hated what she was doing to her; at the same time the humiliation had sharpened her tongue. And that was before she let herself acknowledge the hurt. She had been falling for Jess fast and cutting her away was leaving her sore and resentful.
“Well,” she said, turning to Jess. “I’ve been paid for a job,” she carried on, not wanting to acknowledge the pain, “and apparently you are running out of time, so I suggest you take advantage of my expertise.”
There was slightest nod from Jess and the younger woman cleared her throat and said, “OK”.
Jess's voice was thick with remorse. Anna could tell she was deeply affected. There was truth in every word Jess said and the way she spoke. That was the galling thing. Jess seemed so transparent and honest, with an almost naïve enthusiasm and openness at times, then there had been the moments she’d clammed up. In retrospect, there was an honesty to those too. You knew when she was hiding something, when something caused her too much anxiety to speak, and Jess's plea for Anna to understand how it had all happened made its target at last and Anna felt the simultaneously painful and soothing sense of it hitting home.
But then Anna knew nothing of what Jess left unsaid about her life, this other possible persona. And now Anna was adrift again, not knowing how to reconcile Jess with Jessica Lambert.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“Sorry?” Jess said, and the warm familiar voice full of heartbreak pulled at Anna’s being. The temptation to walk over and throw her arms around Jess and tell her that she understood was enormous. Moments with Jess had made Anna happier than she’d been in years but, and the “but” was so loud, the humiliation was overpowering. It made Anna weak at the knees and any temptation to run to Jess was cut down. Anna steadied herself on the table and the walls went up again.
“So,” she said, straightening. “Perhaps we should pick a scene with which you’ve had difficulty.” So professional. Business-like. Cool. “Could you read one for me?” Anna said.
“Erm,” Jess wandered to the table and flicked through a script that had been lying there. “Actually, the scene I auditioned with Jonathon is the worst,” she said, her movements slow and tentative. “It’s silly. I mean, Deborah likes the way I perform it, she thinks the emotion is spot on, but it has the largest vocal range.”
“Well, let’s start with that to see where the difficulties lie,” Anna said, crossing her arms and preparing to listen. “Could you read both parts please?”
Jess handed Anna the open script and took centre stage. She talked through the dialogue and described the stage direction as Anna followed the lines on paper.
“OK,” Anna interrupted. “Those few lines are enough to work with.” She put the script on the table. “Act it through and I’ll supply Jonathon’s lines.”
“You know the play?” Jess said, her eyes wide with surprise.
“You’ve read it through. I should have the lines.”
“That’s fast.”
“I was a quick study.”
Jess hesitated and Anna could tell her silence was filled with guilt.
They took their positions, Jess wandering downstage towards the audience and Anna hanging back, upstage right.
She breathed down to her belly. “When did it begin?” Anna said it with her full power and menace. She didn’t have to dig deep for either.
Jess twitched and looked over her shoulder, her shape silhouetted against a spotlight. “After you’d left,” Jess said weakly.
“How soon after?” Anna shot back, her voice both strong and smooth. No matter how much missing acting pained her, she always found using her voice in sessions satisfying, like taking out a beloved old instrument and finding you could still play a sweet tune.
“Not straight away,” Jess stuttered.
Anna prowled down stage. “Was it when the others returned?”
“No,” Jess said, inching away, bracing herself. “Not even then.”
“Was it…” Anna softened her delivery with hope, “when you thought I was dead.”
“No,” Jess whispered. She paused and the tension that generated even without an audience was astonishing. “It was when I heard you were coming back.”
Anna froze. She could feel the emotion radiating from Jess. Her fear, the sense of being cornered, dangerous and all at once ready to break. She was drawn into the scene, into that sublime other world when disbelief was suspended. The thrill of it. Her energy in it. Her awe of Jess's portrayal. It gave Anna goose bumps.
“Let’s stop there,” Anna said, afraid of what she felt, the simmering admiration and more. Jess turned and waited. Anna didn’t catch her expression and didn’t want to stare too long in case she gave away her own.
“OK,” she said, stroking a ribbon of hair away from her face. “I see what Deborah means. We need to open up your whole body if you’re going to be heard.”
Jess came forward but didn’t speak.
“You don’t have much time,” Anna warned. “So a trick that will get you a long way is to speak clearly. You will find the audience appreciates it no end.”
Jess opened her mouth and hesitated. “I’m not sure I can play the character like that.”
“I don’t mean to enunciate to within an inch of the queen. Simply make sure you say every word.”
Jess put her hands on her hips and looked to the ceiling. Anna didn’t think it in animosity, more in consideration. “I’ll have to slow her down a little.”
“Is that in keeping with the character? Can you see her as someone who speaks carefully? Clearly?”
“Actually yes,” Jess nodded enthusiastically.
“OK, see how that flies with Deborah,” Anna said. “Now. About getting more power. What warm up exercises and training do you do?”
Jess hesitated. “Not much to be honest.”
“Do you mean none?” Anna snapped.
“I’ve picked up the odd exercise over the years but lately,” she shrugged, “I do several read-throughs out loud in my trailer before we shoot so I’m used to the right words coming out. That’s about it.”
“That’s not going to cut it here,” Anna said, too sharp. “You’re battling with an old auditorium where the acoustics are variable, with an audience shuffling and sometimes the noise of traffic will intrude.”
“I realise that now,” Jess said, in a voice so little, Anna silently reprimanded herself. Jess seemed woefully unprepared for a role in theatre.
“Then start,” Anna said. “You will feel some of the benefits straight away, so don’t put it off any longer.”
Jess nodded.
“Right, let’s loosen you up and remind your muscles that you don’t just talk with your mouth but your whole body.”
Anna took off her coat and slung it over the back of a chair by the table and took centre stage. “Follow me,” she said facing Jess, before modelling some exercises to stretch the ribcage and loosen up the facial muscles.
“Say your name,” Anna ordered as they faced each other and Jess complied.
“Louder this time. Breath in and use your chest.”
Jess replied with more clarity.
“Good,” Anna said. “Now breathe in using your stomach. Lower the diaphragm and let the air fill your whole body. Say your name.”
Jess attempted to inhale down low, Anna could tell, but it lacked strength when she uttered her name.
“No,” Anna snapped. “You’re not getting the air down deep enough.” She stepped forward. “Don’t open your ribs. Push that stomach out.”
Jess tried again, but Anna could hear the lack of power.
“Here,” she said exasperated, and she placed her palm on Jess's stomach. It was almost as if it burned, the sudden touch on her lover’s body. She snatched her hand away, irritated at the reminder of that heated touch. “Breath to there,” she said loudly, stepping away annoyed.
“Jess!” came out loud and strong.
“Good,” Anna said. “You have a great voice, naturally very strong and smooth, but these exercises will remind you that you have many ways to speak in your repertoire. They’re all at your disposal. Use them appropriately.” Anna said it all quickly, the compliment and advice, as if she couldn’t stand to spend any more time talking to Jess in case she soften, or break, or rage. She didn’t know which would come. “Now turn to the audience. We’re going to work on projecting to every single person and throwing that voice out there.” Anna stormed down stage, Jess's lack of preparation and that heated touch aggravating her.
“OK,” she spat, every ounce of irritation evident. “Lift your arms, open your lungs with a deep breath,” Anna breathed in too, “and throw out your arms and your name to the stalls.”
Jess's effort was pitiful. She hadn’t given anything like her full effort. The arms flicked forwards with the resolve of a piece of limp seaweed.
“Good god,” Anna said. “What the hell was that?”
It was like Jess had become smaller beside her.
“You don’t have time for half-hearted efforts,” Anna said. “Try again.”
If anything, Jess's second attempt was poorer.
Anna put a hand to her hip and gestured to the balconies with her other. “This place is going to be packed with hundreds of people out there all paying to see you. How on earth is someone in the stalls let alone the gods going to hear you with that?”
Jess lifted her arms half height and seemed to freeze. Anna could hear her breathing. It became more rapid, rasping short breaths, then deeper as if Jess was on the verge of panicking.
“OK, stop,” Anna said, half irritated, half concerned. “Is there something I need to know?”
Jess didn’t say anything, but her hyperventilation abated at least.
“Anna, I didn’t know…I don’t know how to…”
“What? What didn’t you know?” Anna’s fingers curled into fists at her sides.
Jess cursed her brain for seizing. All those scenarios that she’d practised, they jumbled together making no sense and tying her tongue.
“Enlighten me,” Anna snapped. Jess twitched at her voice, so saturated with resentment.
“I…” Her head throbbed as if all those jumbled words were pounding inside her skull, trying to get out. If she could just have a moment to untie them all.
“Did it not occur to you to mention the precise nature of your job? Your status? Your obvious fame?” Anna tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed as she looked down.
Jess opened her mouth, but she couldn’t even breathe.
“At what point, exactly, did you think it appropriate to explain what was so obvious to everyone else?” Anna glared at her, waiting. “Do you think that was fair?”
The words and thoughts locked together and no matter how much Jess willed an explanation none would come.
“Say something!” Anna shouted.
“I’m sorry,” Jess blurted out. She recoiled at Anna’s words.
“For what?”
Jess took another step back. It had taken every effort to vocalise that feeling.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“For lying?”
“For….” Jess wished several times over that she’d never been a film star, never been famous. She wished that she’d been on a London Underground carriage for any other reason so that Anna could have taken her in, flirted, walked and loved together with no complication.
“I’m sorry for how this has happened. I wish it could have been another way.”
Anna took a step forward and loomed over Jess. “But not sorry for anything else?” She seemed incredulous. “That when I took you to my flat, you didn’t explain exactly why someone might be following you or why people were photographing you?”
“I…” Jess wrapped her arms around herself.
“There are photos of us all over the Internet. Apparently there are multiple views of us on the London Underground, you with your face buried in my chest.”
“Oh god, no. I didn’t know. I’ve been avoiding social media.”
“Perhaps you could have explained the next day, when you’d had a chance to gather your thoughts over a cooked breakfast and enjoyed my hospitality.”
The guilt bit hard at that.
“Or perhaps you could have worked it into our chat at the park?”
All those lovely times.
“I didn’t realise why.”
“Why what?”
“Please,” Jess begged. She just needed some time to gather her thoughts into coherent sentences. “I didn’t understand why you didn’t recognise me. I thought perhaps I wasn’t as famous as I feared. I didn’t realise,” she paused, “you were hiding too.”
The contempt on Anna’s face relented a little. “At first, I will give you that.”
“You didn’t explain straight away,” Jess said quietly. “Do you think I would have treated you differently if you’d told me?”
“What? That I’m a sorry recluse, a has-been and spectacularly behind the times? Yes, most people do treat me differently when they find out,” Anna snapped.
“But I might not have done.”
The wind seemed to have abated in Anna’s sails. “We’ll never know,” she said, voice clipped.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” Jess said quietly, “constantly over the last few days. All of it. And,” she couldn’t help a sob or the warm tear that ran down her cheek, “you’re right, I’ll never know if you would have treated me the same way, and I’ve been kicking myself that I didn’t give you the chance earlier.”
Anna glared at her in challenge.
“Would you have taken me in?” Jess asked. “Would we have flirted and chatted in the same way?” She couldn’t help the smile on her lips as she recalled. “Because it was lovely. No-one has treated me like that in years.”
Anna’s appearance remained stony.
“Haven’t you experienced that?” Jess offered. “Didn’t you have the same, when people want to be seen with you? When no-one talks to you for your company anymore.”
“I was never as ridiculously famous as you. It wasn’t a problem.”
Ouch. Jess drew breath at the comment but tried to carry on with her thoughts of several days.
“Staying with you was the first time anyone wanted my company for a long while. The first time I relaxed and put aside every mask. It was so refreshing to enjoy company as myself and have that person enjoy me too. That is so rare for me. I’m sorry I indulged.” Her throat strangled. “I thought you’d change if I told you, then I was too swept up to stop.”
Anna closed her eyes.
How would Anna have changed? Perhaps not in the way Jess had first feared.
“I have worn so many masks over the years, playing a role, trying to fit in,” Jess said. “It’s always disconcerting to see how people respond to them all, and even more when they find the person I am underneath. You saw me, just Jess, and I was scared you wouldn’t see me for who I really am anymore or, worse, wouldn’t want to see the real me anymore,” Jess said gently.
Anna’s eyes snapped open. “A liar? Someone I can’t trust? Someone I don’t know at all?”
And Jess's head dropped.
Anna seemed to rein in her anger. “I can understand,” she said. “A little. I do empathise with wanting a break from people’s preconceptions.” As ever, Jess admired Anna’s articulation and ability to think on her feet. “But christ,” Anna said more sharply, “you should have told me before you slept with me.” And she folded her arms protectively over her chest.
Jess felt a ton of guilt and regret and closed her eyes, trying to keep her thoughts clear. “I didn’t sleep with you, we slept together, and we slept together thinking we might not see each other again. Would it have mattered then?”
“What?”
“When I left? When I didn’t think I’d be back in London? A one-night stand. Would it have mattered then?”
Anna was silent.
“I didn’t know that you were once an actress,” Jess said quietly. “I still don’t know everything about you.”
Anna looked away over the seating in the auditorium.
“I’m not trying to say what I’ve done is right,” Jess offered. “That I feel so bad about it makes it obvious it wasn’t. I didn’t plan to mislead you but, at the same time, I doubt I would have met you any other way. And…” she gulped, “I really want to know you more than anything.”
Anna snapped her head round. “We’ll never know if we would have hit it off any other way.”
Jess’s shoulders slumped. Anna wasn’t listening.
“As soon as I heard I could stay in London I was going to tell you,” Jess said desperately.
Anna turned on her heel. “But you didn’t,” she said loud over her shoulder.
“Penny…” Jess stopped herself. She didn’t want to get Anna’s friend into trouble.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Anna said, rifling through her bag on the table. “You’re not dropping Penny in it. She was there when I found out. I heard you on the radio, recognised your voice, and I looked like a complete and utter fool.”
“I’m sorry,” Jess murmured. “I’m so sorry.”
She could have screamed. Her brain was still tied in knots of regret and at the same time clinging on to the knowledge that they never would have become involved otherwise.
“All I can say,” Jess started, “is that I’ve been trying to tell you all week. Even though I knew you would be hurt and I risked not seeing you again. I value honesty and truth. In this business I’ve seen so little and it’s worn me down. I hate that I’ve got into this mess with you, misled you and ended up lying.” She was breathing hard. “I hoped you’d understand how it happened. I hoped you would still want to see me when I explained.”
Anna stopped, turned and seemed to look right inside her. “Like I said, now we’ll never know.”
Chapter 36.
Anna could hear her mother’s voice in her own and the chilling realisation forced her to retreat. She rattled around in her shoulder bag and checked her phone as an excuse to distance herself from Jess. She hated what she was doing to her; at the same time the humiliation had sharpened her tongue. And that was before she let herself acknowledge the hurt. She had been falling for Jess fast and cutting her away was leaving her sore and resentful.
“Well,” she said, turning to Jess. “I’ve been paid for a job,” she carried on, not wanting to acknowledge the pain, “and apparently you are running out of time, so I suggest you take advantage of my expertise.”
There was slightest nod from Jess and the younger woman cleared her throat and said, “OK”.
Jess's voice was thick with remorse. Anna could tell she was deeply affected. There was truth in every word Jess said and the way she spoke. That was the galling thing. Jess seemed so transparent and honest, with an almost naïve enthusiasm and openness at times, then there had been the moments she’d clammed up. In retrospect, there was an honesty to those too. You knew when she was hiding something, when something caused her too much anxiety to speak, and Jess's plea for Anna to understand how it had all happened made its target at last and Anna felt the simultaneously painful and soothing sense of it hitting home.
But then Anna knew nothing of what Jess left unsaid about her life, this other possible persona. And now Anna was adrift again, not knowing how to reconcile Jess with Jessica Lambert.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“Sorry?” Jess said, and the warm familiar voice full of heartbreak pulled at Anna’s being. The temptation to walk over and throw her arms around Jess and tell her that she understood was enormous. Moments with Jess had made Anna happier than she’d been in years but, and the “but” was so loud, the humiliation was overpowering. It made Anna weak at the knees and any temptation to run to Jess was cut down. Anna steadied herself on the table and the walls went up again.
“So,” she said, straightening. “Perhaps we should pick a scene with which you’ve had difficulty.” So professional. Business-like. Cool. “Could you read one for me?” Anna said.
“Erm,” Jess wandered to the table and flicked through a script that had been lying there. “Actually, the scene I auditioned with Jonathon is the worst,” she said, her movements slow and tentative. “It’s silly. I mean, Deborah likes the way I perform it, she thinks the emotion is spot on, but it has the largest vocal range.”
“Well, let’s start with that to see where the difficulties lie,” Anna said, crossing her arms and preparing to listen. “Could you read both parts please?”
Jess handed Anna the open script and took centre stage. She talked through the dialogue and described the stage direction as Anna followed the lines on paper.
“OK,” Anna interrupted. “Those few lines are enough to work with.” She put the script on the table. “Act it through and I’ll supply Jonathon’s lines.”
“You know the play?” Jess said, her eyes wide with surprise.
“You’ve read it through. I should have the lines.”
“That’s fast.”
“I was a quick study.”
Jess hesitated and Anna could tell her silence was filled with guilt.
They took their positions, Jess wandering downstage towards the audience and Anna hanging back, upstage right.
She breathed down to her belly. “When did it begin?” Anna said it with her full power and menace. She didn’t have to dig deep for either.
Jess twitched and looked over her shoulder, her shape silhouetted against a spotlight. “After you’d left,” Jess said weakly.
“How soon after?” Anna shot back, her voice both strong and smooth. No matter how much missing acting pained her, she always found using her voice in sessions satisfying, like taking out a beloved old instrument and finding you could still play a sweet tune.
“Not straight away,” Jess stuttered.
Anna prowled down stage. “Was it when the others returned?”
“No,” Jess said, inching away, bracing herself. “Not even then.”
“Was it…” Anna softened her delivery with hope, “when you thought I was dead.”
“No,” Jess whispered. She paused and the tension that generated even without an audience was astonishing. “It was when I heard you were coming back.”
Anna froze. She could feel the emotion radiating from Jess. Her fear, the sense of being cornered, dangerous and all at once ready to break. She was drawn into the scene, into that sublime other world when disbelief was suspended. The thrill of it. Her energy in it. Her awe of Jess's portrayal. It gave Anna goose bumps.
“Let’s stop there,” Anna said, afraid of what she felt, the simmering admiration and more. Jess turned and waited. Anna didn’t catch her expression and didn’t want to stare too long in case she gave away her own.
“OK,” she said, stroking a ribbon of hair away from her face. “I see what Deborah means. We need to open up your whole body if you’re going to be heard.”
Jess came forward but didn’t speak.
“You don’t have much time,” Anna warned. “So a trick that will get you a long way is to speak clearly. You will find the audience appreciates it no end.”
Jess opened her mouth and hesitated. “I’m not sure I can play the character like that.”
“I don’t mean to enunciate to within an inch of the queen. Simply make sure you say every word.”
Jess put her hands on her hips and looked to the ceiling. Anna didn’t think it in animosity, more in consideration. “I’ll have to slow her down a little.”
“Is that in keeping with the character? Can you see her as someone who speaks carefully? Clearly?”
“Actually yes,” Jess nodded enthusiastically.
“OK, see how that flies with Deborah,” Anna said. “Now. About getting more power. What warm up exercises and training do you do?”
Jess hesitated. “Not much to be honest.”
“Do you mean none?” Anna snapped.
“I’ve picked up the odd exercise over the years but lately,” she shrugged, “I do several read-throughs out loud in my trailer before we shoot so I’m used to the right words coming out. That’s about it.”
“That’s not going to cut it here,” Anna said, too sharp. “You’re battling with an old auditorium where the acoustics are variable, with an audience shuffling and sometimes the noise of traffic will intrude.”
“I realise that now,” Jess said, in a voice so little, Anna silently reprimanded herself. Jess seemed woefully unprepared for a role in theatre.
“Then start,” Anna said. “You will feel some of the benefits straight away, so don’t put it off any longer.”
Jess nodded.
“Right, let’s loosen you up and remind your muscles that you don’t just talk with your mouth but your whole body.”
Anna took off her coat and slung it over the back of a chair by the table and took centre stage. “Follow me,” she said facing Jess, before modelling some exercises to stretch the ribcage and loosen up the facial muscles.
“Say your name,” Anna ordered as they faced each other and Jess complied.
“Louder this time. Breath in and use your chest.”
Jess replied with more clarity.
“Good,” Anna said. “Now breathe in using your stomach. Lower the diaphragm and let the air fill your whole body. Say your name.”
Jess attempted to inhale down low, Anna could tell, but it lacked strength when she uttered her name.
“No,” Anna snapped. “You’re not getting the air down deep enough.” She stepped forward. “Don’t open your ribs. Push that stomach out.”
Jess tried again, but Anna could hear the lack of power.
“Here,” she said exasperated, and she placed her palm on Jess's stomach. It was almost as if it burned, the sudden touch on her lover’s body. She snatched her hand away, irritated at the reminder of that heated touch. “Breath to there,” she said loudly, stepping away annoyed.
“Jess!” came out loud and strong.
“Good,” Anna said. “You have a great voice, naturally very strong and smooth, but these exercises will remind you that you have many ways to speak in your repertoire. They’re all at your disposal. Use them appropriately.” Anna said it all quickly, the compliment and advice, as if she couldn’t stand to spend any more time talking to Jess in case she soften, or break, or rage. She didn’t know which would come. “Now turn to the audience. We’re going to work on projecting to every single person and throwing that voice out there.” Anna stormed down stage, Jess's lack of preparation and that heated touch aggravating her.
“OK,” she spat, every ounce of irritation evident. “Lift your arms, open your lungs with a deep breath,” Anna breathed in too, “and throw out your arms and your name to the stalls.”
Jess's effort was pitiful. She hadn’t given anything like her full effort. The arms flicked forwards with the resolve of a piece of limp seaweed.
“Good god,” Anna said. “What the hell was that?”
It was like Jess had become smaller beside her.
“You don’t have time for half-hearted efforts,” Anna said. “Try again.”
If anything, Jess's second attempt was poorer.
Anna put a hand to her hip and gestured to the balconies with her other. “This place is going to be packed with hundreds of people out there all paying to see you. How on earth is someone in the stalls let alone the gods going to hear you with that?”
Jess lifted her arms half height and seemed to freeze. Anna could hear her breathing. It became more rapid, rasping short breaths, then deeper as if Jess was on the verge of panicking.
“OK, stop,” Anna said, half irritated, half concerned. “Is there something I need to know?”
Jess didn’t say anything, but her hyperventilation abated at least.
