Finding Jessica Lambert, page 29
Inside the stadium, together with the rest of the cast and guests, Anna and Penny took their seats in a box high up near the stage and an enormous screen. The lights went low except for the stage and the several-thousand strong audience rose up in a roar as Jess and Chris appeared on stage to introduce the film. Jess waved to all corners of the stadium and her voice rang clear and strong as she welcomed the crowd. The energy in the stadium was palpable. It nearly lifted Anna from her seat.
“Enjoy the show!” Jess and Chris shouted and the whole stadium plunged into darkness and the familiar soundtrack began.
The film was overwhelming in so many ways. Anna’s stomach was in knots waiting for her time on stage after the screening, but she couldn’t help surf the wave of enthusiasm from the audience at the action and drama on the screen. She was absorbed yet again by the intensity of Jess's performance and it was amplified on a large screen this time.
A close-up of Jess's features in one quiet moment filled the stadium, the camera lingering on her thoughtful face, her beautiful cheeks perfect in the soft glow of firelight, her brown eyes capturing everyone’s vision and inky long eyelashes blinking over those soulful pools. Anna could almost feel the whole auditorium leaning forward and drowning in those eyes.
Then action again and the audience was carried away to the thunderous climax of the film until they rose as one from their seats when the end credits rolled.
A guide quietly took Anna backstage ready for her part in the event, the part she’d been trying to ignore the whole evening. She waited in the wings alongside Jess and Chris while the crew wired them up with earpieces and microphones.
Jess seemed smaller.
“Hey,” she said, looking over her shoulder.
“Hi,” Anna replied.
“You’ll be OK?” Jess said. Anna may have nodded, but Jess paid her no more attention and turned back to look onto the stage.
Jess hunched her shoulders and clenched her hands, more like the woman Anna had first met, running from everyone that night. Chris by contrast was already in a power pose, feet apart, hands on hips. As their names were announced over the speakers, Jess lifted her chin and before Anna could wish her good luck she’d jogged onto the stage and the two co-stars were leaping around and waving to the crowd again.
The reception for Jess was astonishing. Even when the two actors took questions from the audience, Jess was the focus. Although she didn’t strut or bask in the attention, not like living the dream as Jessica Lambert, she spoke fluidly and with authority and Anna realised genuine enthusiasm. Penny had told her once that Jess had been addicted to the graphic novels that had inspired the series and realised Jess talked from the perspective of a fan. That enthusiasm was winning the audience hands down and Anna could see Jess's confidence thriving on it all. This was her subject and obsession, this was her domain, and Jess hosted the event with an authentic charisma.
“How we doing?” Matt appeared at Anna’s arm, which he gently took it in his, and looked at her with quiet concern.
“I’m not sure,” she said, honestly. The creeping sense of freezing, the rising nausea, the paralysing nerves, they weren’t there yet. Yes, she was jittery with adrenaline, but the terror hadn’t claimed her. But christ, this was going to be a challenge.
“Remember,” Matt murmured. “You don’t have to go on. Jess and Chris are primed for any eventuality.”
She closed her eyes and nodded.
“If you walk on,” Matt said, “and simply wave, then amazing. Any more than that would be exceptional.”
Anna kept her eyes shut, Matt’s arm steadying her.
What was the worst that could happen? She could freeze, break down and collapse. She’d done that before. Would this be any worse? Strangely she felt it wouldn’t. Matt, Jess and Chris knew it was a possibility and it wouldn’t be the universal shock that it had been five years ago. It was still pretty fucking awful though.
“And as a special treat,” Anna heard Jess say over the speakers that rang out over the stadium, “we have a short clip from the next series, not seen anywhere before. Your first glimpse of the Queen of the Northern Territories!”
The crowd’s enthusiasm was terrifying. That blast from the audience seemed to knock Anna back. The clip blazed onto the screen and she peeked around to make out her own form, growing from the forest palace transformed by slick post-production effects into something otherworldly on the giant screen. As the clip ended and the stage lights came on, the crowd’s applause and chanting were no lessened. Anna had never experienced anything like this in her life.
“Good god,” she gasped. She trembled. Why had she agreed to this? This was a step way too far. How was she meant to go on stage and live up to that reception? She felt ancient suddenly in contrast to the two dynamic actors and the youthful audience. She put her hand to her chest, regretting letting the studio dress her with a more revealing gown than she was now accustomed to. She was physically shaking.
“Anna?” Matt said gently.
But it was to Jess on stage that she looked and found her eyes on hers. Jess's face only showed bubbling enthusiasm, kindness and generosity. Anna realised with a sense of calm, which washed over her, that little of the focus would be on her. The crowd was here for Jess. Anna was free of expectation in front of this audience. She’d be surprised if many had heard of her at all. All the pressure was on Jess, none on her, and the realisation channelled her nerves into excitement and the terror into opportunity. She had a job to do, a job she loved, and that was to support the star – Jess.
Anna breathed out, long and slow until her lungs were empty. This was another stage, another audience. She had a role to play – Anna Mayhew, RSC actress, consummate professional, red carpet regular – her body, personality, voice all part of the act.
She wasn’t youthful. She couldn’t bound onto the stage. But she had a lifetime of listening to audiences, feeling as well as seeing their reactions. She was a seasoned actor and she’d commanded stages from London to New York. The costume department had given her just that – a costume for this role. She could do this. This is what she was born to do. She let go of Matt and reached out for the rail and climbed the steps onto the stage.
Chapter 46.
Jess clapped to welcome Anna on stage, the crowd thundering in her ears. Her heart was pumping, her body primed with excitement from the reception of the feature. The night had been an unbelievable success. If Anna could make it on stage that would be the icing on the cake. If all she did was wave that would treat the crowd and be a monumental step for the actor’s confidence. But as Anna walked on Jess slowed her clap.
Jess's reception had been uproarious but, when Anna walked on, it was as if the night was stolen by a star. Jess gawped, she didn’t realise she’d stopped clapping, so taken was she by the woman who appeared on stage. Golden gown flowing with easy grace and a fluid stride of long elegant legs. You would have to be dead not to notice the plunging neckline and pale flawless cleavage. But it was the way she walked on stage: slow, deliberate, like she belonged. Anna Mayhew was here.
Jess could feel that every face was turned, entranced by their new co-star. Anna came to a stop beside her and dropped a hand to her hip in a seductive pose. She tilted up her chin, the line of her neck exquisite, and the smile she gave of pleasure and purpose silenced the crowd into obedience as she scanned every corner of the auditorium.
“Good evening,” Anna purred. And did that just make several thousand people go weak at the knees? Its seductive power had completely incapacitated Jess. There was a besotted sigh from the crowd.
“I believe,” Anna paused, “you have questions.”
And Jess, Chris and the audience laughed out loud in appreciation at her introduction that dripped with insinuation.
Jess found herself beaming and clapping hard. Anna had brought her fearless character to the stage in all but costume, together with decades of experience of captivating an audience. Jess could never do that and she was in ecstatic awe of Anna’s ability. And her confidence. She didn’t tremble a bit. Anna stood, commanding, her leg provocatively peeping through a slit in her dress without a hint of vulnerability. Jess didn’t know whether she was more pleased for the audience, the whole production or Anna. This was a spectacular step for the actress.
Beaming so much that her cheeks ached, Jess took charge of hosting, picking audience members from the crowd, an overhead microphone panning over to chosen questioners. They ranged from young fans wanting to talk about favourite characters in the Atlassia books, to critics asking about the creative direction the show was taking, to someone asking Chris out on a date, all handled with charm by her colleagues.
A woman at the front with a tablet, who’d looked irritable at the questions so far, shouted out her name.
“Question for Jessica Lambert!” she repeated, and the microphone swung over her head.
“Yes?” Jess said, smiling.
“How are you coping with the schedule after suffering from exhaustion and going into hiding last year?”
Jess twitched. It caught her completely off guard. The evening had been so dominated by questions from ardent fans, that the intrusive line tripped her. Lulled into comfort by the warmth of the audience, with simple questions rewarded by honest answers, the reminder of people with confusing and destructive motives floored her. Why would a person do this?
Her disappearance had been reported in the media but Femi, her manager, had shielded her from most of it. He’d dismissed it as indistinguishable from gossip and the fiction they usually posted. She’d avoided much of the fallout from that and the change in studio, but these things never went away, not while journalists could smell blood.
“I’m…” Her brain was seizing. “I’m enjoying filming the series at Richmond very much,” she said, hearing that her voice was dropping into monotone but able to do little about it. “We’re all relieved that Atlassia has a new home in London,” she pressed on.
“Is it true you’re involved with Anna Mayhew?”
What? Where had that come from?
“Sorry?” she said, without thinking.
“You and Anna were photographed on the Tube last year. You looked cosy.”
Her mind was contracting with panic now. Questions about the film from fans she could answer all night, but this was personal and like a knife thrust into her body.
“I….” It was personal and about a time she’d nearly broken down. She wasn’t sure her parents realised how close she’d come, if it hadn’t been for Anna.
“I…”
Then she’d lied to Anna, taken advantage and hurt her.
The lights seemed so bright suddenly. She was exposed on the stage, in the spotlight, in front of thousands of people. This was her worst nightmare – everything she feared about fame and people. Not even her run on Shaftesbury Avenue had prepared her for this kind of exposure.
“Ms?” It was Anna’s voice, close by. She’d approached Jess and now that Jess looked up she realised Chris had closed in too.
“Cass Johnstone.”
“From?” Anna said, her tone icy.
“The Express.”
“Well, Ms Johnstone from The Express, Jess and I do know each other, so it should be no surprise that we’ve been seen together from time to time. In fact Jess introduced me to the producer of the show for which I’m very grateful. She’s a phenomenal actress and I’m proud to call her my colleague and friend.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” the journalist snapped.
“I think you’ve asked enough questions.” Anna’s reply was final and deadly. “Let’s open it back up to the audience shall we?”
Anna’s hand pressed lightly on Jess's back, reassuring her and pulling her in.
“What can we expect to see this series?” Anna repeated the question from another audience member. “Chris, would you like to take that one?”
Slowly Jess started to see again, the glare of the lights less blinding, but her heart thudding. She struggled through a few questions, heavily filtered by Anna who steered every question to the story and safer ground for Jess. By the time the event organiser was calling for them to wind up, Jess could look people in the eye again.
Held by Anna on one side and Chris on the other, she hoped her cheery wave to the crowd was convincing and she walked off stage with her co-stars rather than collapsing, which had been a possibility halfway through.
She was fried. She could barely think and struggled to speak. She was half aware of Anna approaching and holding her hand.
“Sorry,” Jess muttered, struggling to get the words out. “I’m sorry that came up.”
Anna’s hand was vivid and soft. Her reassuring presence calmed Jess like it had last year. The world seemed to stop spinning when Anna was around. She looked up into Anna’s face and saw the kind concern she’d seen last year, a kindness she’d taken advantage of, which had hurt Anna in a way that still summoned stomach-churning guilt in Jess.
“I’m sorry,” Jess repeated.
Before she could say any more, an assistant took her away. Jess was bundled into a car and Anna into another. They were whisked away from the stadium under cover of darkness before the crowds could exit. Jess let her head drop into her hands, exhausted and at least given a reprieve from fans peering into the car and the incessant flashes of phones and cameras.
She hardly noticed the journey to Richmond, where the after-party was held in a grand Georgian river-front bar. The car delivered her into the privacy of the rear of the building and she was escorted through hallways, up a twisting staircase, to a private function room, all sleek with wooden floors and harsh noise. She grabbed a glass of Champagne from a waiter’s tray, drinking it almost in one gulp, and headed through the throngs of guests, cast and crew to the quietest corner of the room, then out onto a balcony and solitude.
It was like she could breathe again, surrounded by the cool night air and anonymous in the dark, the only light reaching the balcony from the doorways to the room and the occasional outside lamp. There was space and the wide open world out here, the balcony overlooking the river and the stone arched bridge beyond. Orange light from the vintage street lamps glistened on the water, boats swayed in the swell of the river and the shape of trees in the dusk softened the view. The occasional sound of chatter from people walking along the river was removed and soothing. Jess closed her eyes, enjoying the peace, and slowly decompressed.
“I wondered if I’d find you here.”
Jess opened her eyes. Anna.
“I thought you’d seek a quiet corner,” Anna said, moving beside her. She leant on the stone balcony wall, a glass of Champagne in her hand, a picture of ease. “Would you like company or do you need more time alone?”
“Yes,” Jess said, then realised that wasn’t helpful. “I’d like company, if it’s yours.” And she was too tired for embarrassment at her honesty.
Anna sipped at her glass and gazed at the scenery, giving Jess time to recover, her ease infectious and soothing.
“It's beautiful up here,” Anna said. “The way the lights on the water blend in the flow is very pleasing,” she said in a sigh.
Jess leant on the balustrade close to Anna. She twirled the empty glass between her finger and thumb, not wishing to refill it and drink too fast.
“Cold?” Jess asked, wondering if Anna’s coat slung around her shoulders was enough to make up for her revealing dress.
“I’m fine,” she said, although Anna smiled and snuggled closer at the excuse, their bodies touching from shoulder to hip. The warm intimacy soothed deeper still.
“I didn’t appreciate, until recently,” Anna said gently, “quite the impact Atlassia has had and the pressure you’ve been under, and also its particular effect on you and your personality. I’m sorry I didn’t try to understand earlier. I’m beginning to now.”
It wasn’t what Jess had expected her to say and she couldn’t speak.
“I had a taster this evening,” Anna continued, “and frankly it was terrifying. I think I would have struggled even at my most confident if I’d been the focus and I’m a person who used to, and is beginning to again, thrive on attention. I’ve had years on stage, but that was nothing like anything I’ve experienced before.” Anna looked at her, eyes casting around Jess's and the river sparkling in their reflection. “And that’s before any of the relentless attention and bigotry on social media.”
Jess breathed out. “I’ve turned it off. I can’t cope with social media anymore. Femi,” Jess blinked, her brain still sluggish, “that’s my manager, he has an assistant who posts on my behalf. Any news about my work, environmental causes I support, charities I fund, that’s done for me. I have to stay away now.”
“Is it helping?”
Jess nodded. “Being home’s made a difference too. I stay at my folks’ the weekends I’m free.”
“Oh good.” Anna grinned and reached out to squeeze her arm. “They sound wonderful. I’d love to meet them.” Then she stopped herself, perhaps realising the implication. “You know what I mean,” she said. “If they’re ever around.”
Jess carried on quickly, not wanting Anna to feel awkward. “It’s been brilliant actually. I left home when I was seventeen and missed my little brother growing up. We’ve been catching up.”
Anna smiled and held her arm.
“You…” Jess's heart was beating hard, the swell of loss and longing rising inside. “You nudged me in the right direction, when we met.”
Anna twitched but her hand remained resting on Jess's arm.
“You made me come home. I wasn’t sure what to do, or was perhaps too afraid to admit it. So many people thrive on the kind of lifestyle I’ve had, but not me. Familiarity and routine is what I needed,” Jess said, and she had to gulp away feelings and thoughts that were so intertwined about the woman who stood next to her that she was afraid of what they’d all mean if she ever unpicked them all.
