‘It’s the person wearing it I’m bowled over by, not the dress.’
Cathy’s blush became deeper still, and she was quite sure a passing troop of scouts would have been able to toast marshmallows on her face if they’d had a sudden hankering for them.
‘My lady,’ he added, offering his arm. ‘Verily, we should make haste, lest we miss the start of the performance.’
Cathy giggled. ‘Forsooth, my lord,’ she replied. ‘I would not… OK, you got me, that’s about the only bit of old-fashioned talking I know.’
‘That’s about my limit too,’ he said. ‘I expect we’ll be reciting sonnets when we come out.’
‘I wouldn’t bank on it,’ Cathy said, taking the coat she’d made ready from the hook in the hallway.
‘No,’ he said with a wry smile, ‘neither would I.’
Cathy had been past the theatre plenty of times over the years, but she had to admit to not taking all that much notice of it and she’d never been inside. The few shows she’d been to see – the obligatory Christmas panto, the odd musical or band tour – had always been at Linnetford’s larger main theatre. The one that Matthias drove her to tonight was housed by a tiny rococo building that had once been a rather grand bank. When the bank had closed its doors for the final time, at some point during the seventies, the building had stood empty for another decade until some enterprising soul with more vision than Cathy ever could have had saw its potential and set about turning it into an alternative arts venue. The stone of the exterior had been sandblasted to its former dove grey, the roof, doors and windows had been replaced, and the derelict land that lay behind it had been paved to provide a small car parking space, enough for the five hundred or so patrons that the auditorium was able to hold. As they stepped inside, Cathy found herself in a sumptuous interior with painted frescoes on the ceiling depicting Greek and Roman myths, stone columns, stained-glass windows, plush red carpets, a heavy rosewood bar and brass fittings.
‘It’s gorgeous in here,’ she exclaimed, gazing around. ‘I can’t believe I’ve been walking past it for all these years and never came in. If I’d known how lovely it was, I’d have done it years ago.’ She looked at Matthias. ‘Do you come here a lot?’
‘I’ve been half a dozen times,’ he said. ‘Not as often as I’d like to.’
Cathy recalled briefly that Erica had said her brother was quite arty – was this the sort of thing she meant? If it was, Cathy hoped she wasn’t about to show herself up because she’d hardly taken a lot of interest in stuff like this before and she felt she was mostly quite ignorant about it. She also thought, however – and she hoped she was right – that Matthias was far too kind to make her feel silly, even if she did say something that sounded silly and uneducated.
‘I just hope you like it,’ he said. ‘I know Shakespeare isn’t to everyone’s taste, but I think we’ll be alright with this – it’s one of the lighter plays. I definitely wouldn’t subject you to Richard III – it would put you off for life.’
Right now, Cathy wouldn’t have cared if they were watching the cleaners sweep the aisles as long as she was here with him, but she wasn’t about to say that.
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ she said. ‘I’m interested to see what I’ve been missing.’
‘I won’t be offended if you don’t like it,’ he said. ‘It’s not to everyone’s taste. And please, don’t be afraid to say so at the interval – if you’re really hating every minute then we’ll leave and find something else to do. I won’t mind at all and wouldn’t like to think that you’ve suffered in silence.’
‘I’m sure I will like it,’ she said.
‘But promise me you’ll say so if you don’t. I realise that I’ve sprung this on you without really asking.’
‘But you did ask. You asked and I said I’d be up for it – remember? And I’m happy you’ve thought of something a bit different – left up to me we’d be drinking tea at Sainsbury’s café.’
He burst out laughing. ‘Much as I’d usually avoid that sort of thing, I think even that would be OK if I was with you.’
Cathy smiled up at him, caught almost instantly in those soft hazel eyes, the hustle and noise of the foyer melting away. She felt herself drawn in again, desperate to feel his lips on hers, but even now, at the back of her mind was a little voice that warned her she’d have to wait, no matter how much she wanted to. That was right and proper, wasn’t it, even though she didn’t feel much like being proper where Matthias was concerned. In fact, the more time she spent in his company, the more she felt like being very improper indeed…
‘We’ve got time for a quick drink before we go and get our seats,’ he said. ‘Can I get you something from the bar?’
‘Hmm, yes, that sounds lovely. I don’t know what I want – how about you surprise me?’
‘You still trust me to surprise you after I’ve brought you here?’
Cathy giggled. ‘I like it here! So far at least. I absolutely trust you.’
‘OK…’ he said, looking doubtful. ‘You like gin?’
‘Who doesn’t?’
‘Right… something with gin coming up.’
Cathy still had the smile stapled to her face as she watched him walk to the bar. It didn’t matter if she hated this play, if she hated the drink he brought back for her, because she was certain she was going to love this night, here with him. She was certain that she would have loved it wherever they’d gone.
She took a moment to glance around the room as he talked to the bartender. There were more young people than she’d imagined there would be: early twenty-somethings, teenagers, even parents with children that couldn’t have been older than nine or ten. She’d expected it to be full of older couples, people who looked cultured and professional, who might have big-shot, well-paid jobs, but for the most part, everyone looked fairly ordinary, a lot more like her. At least she didn’t feel out of place in her best dress, because there was a mix of outfits too, everything from smart casual characterised by blazers teamed with dark, sharp denim, to sequined metallic tops and frocks. It didn’t seem to matter what anyone was wearing and nobody seemed to care that they’d all gone for a totally different level of formal.
After a few minutes, Cathy looked to see Matthias coming back to her with two glasses.
‘I took some advice from the guy at the bar,’ he said, handing her one of the glasses. ‘So if you don’t like it I’ll go and shout at him for you.’
Cathy laughed as she took it. ‘I’m sure it will be lovely. What’s in it?’
‘I’m not altogether sure. I know he mentioned lemon and mint… I think it’s called a Southside or something.’
‘It sounds nice – I love lemon and I love mint leaves, so…’
‘When he said what was in it I thought most people probably like those things.’
‘You’ve got the same?’ Cathy asked, looking at his glass.