‘I figured: what the hell? Why not give it a go? It looked good.’
Cathy took a sip and it was good. It was dry and bitter and sweet all at the same time, zingy from the lemon and fresh from the mint, though she couldn’t figure out where the sweetness was coming from. It was a bit like trying to unravel the ingredients in a slice of cake when she tried something for the first time without knowing what was in it. If she could figure it out, maybe she’d try to make this for herself at home. She didn’t usually bother drinking much in the house because it was just no fun alone, but maybe having this would bring back fond memories of tonight. And who knew, maybe in time, she wouldn’t be drinking it alone…
‘Ladies and gentlemen, the auditorium is now open if you’d like to take your seats. Tonight’s performance of Twelfth Night will begin in ten minutes.’
‘Wow, does that mean we’d better drink up quick?’ Cathy asked as the public address announcement came to an end. ‘I might be drunk if I knock this back all at once!’
‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘we’ve got ten minutes yet. And anyway, even if you do get drunk I’ll look after you.’
‘I might be a bit embarrassing, though.’
‘You could never embarrass me.’
She smiled. ‘We’ll see if you’re still saying that when I’ve asked for the hundredth time what’s going on in the play.’
‘Ah, but you’re missing the point of Shakespeare.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Nobody really understands what’s going on – they’re just here because they think it makes them look clever.’
Cathy giggled. ‘Does that apply to you too?’
‘Of course! How else was I going to impress you?’ He took a sip of his drink and fixed her with a smouldering gaze that made her want to forgo the theatre and find somewhere private to spend the rest of the evening with him. ‘So, tell me,’ he continued, still gazing at her, ‘how’s that working out? Am I impressing you yet?’
‘You were impressing me the moment you said hello by the canal,’ she said, and then snorted with laughter. ‘Oh, God, that sounds like a line from some cheesy romantic comedy, doesn’t it?’
‘You impressed me at hello?’ he replied with a grin. ‘A little bit but I’m more interested in the fact that my ploy is working.’
‘It’s a ploy? So you’re not really this clever at all?’
‘Nope.’
‘I don’t believe you. Erica says you’re clever.’
‘Erica thinks that chair is clever,’ he said, nodding at a nearby barstool.
Cathy grinned. ‘I won’t tell her you said that.’
‘You can tell her – she’s heard it enough times from me so she wouldn’t be surprised.’
‘I think you’re secretly clever too, but you’re trying not to make a big deal of it,’ Cathy said. ‘I mean, I know that you have a very clever job.’
‘Me?’ he pointed to himself and grinned. ‘It might sound clever but it really isn’t.’
‘I don’t believe you. Erica says you save lives.’
‘Well… I suppose I have been known to assist in the odd bit of lifesaving.’
‘Like what?’
‘If I started to tell you now we’d miss the start of the play. Do you think you can stand the suspense of waiting for a while to hear me flex about my own coolness?’
Cathy laughed. ‘I can’t wait!’
‘Well, I’m glad to see I’m managing to impress you.’
‘You are,’ she said. ‘And you’re not even having to try…’
Twenty-Three
Cathy had been mesmerised from the moment the curtains opened. Her original doubts had proved valid because half the time she didn’t have a clue what was going on, but that didn’t seem to matter. She became swept up with the lavish staging, the sumptuous costumes, the massive performances, daft songs and rhymes, the poetry of the speeches, the enthusiasm of the audience and the general atmosphere. Every so often Matthias would whisper in her ear to ask if she was OK, or to clarify something he thought she might not have quite got – though this never made her feel stupid because he did it in such a subtle and respectful way that she couldn’t possibly have felt insulted. Besides, whatever his reasons for leaning in close, his breath in her ear and his scent did things to her that made her forget the play more than once.
During the interval he got them more drinks and insisted on paying – even though Cathy had argued that it was the twenty-first century and there was no reason he ought to be footing the bill for the entire date. They chatted easily back in the foyer, mostly about how she’d found the play so far and about which part Matthias’s friend was playing. (One of the ship’s crew, as it happened. Cathy didn’t like to say that, even though Matthias had told her, she’d probably struggle to tell who he was because there were quite a few of them and their costumes were very similar.)
Shortly after the beginning of the second half, Cathy felt a hand settle on hers with a gentle squeeze. It was the grown-up equivalent of the yawning-hand-around-the-back-of-the-seat at the cinema, but Cathy didn’t care. A quiver of pleasure sent the hairs at the back of her neck on end, and she wanted to kiss him more than ever. It would have to wait, and although she was still enjoying the play, now she wanted it to finish quickly too because she was sure that the evening would end with that kiss and she couldn’t wait. All she could offer him right now was a smile as he glanced across to check that his attention was being well received, and the one he sent in return almost set her on fire. She hadn’t felt like this in so long, not since Jonas, and the anticipation was enough to make her feel drunk.
Before Cathy knew it, the play was over and they were filing out of the auditorium. Matthias reached for Cathy’s hand again and she smiled, that delicious feeling of barely contained excitement creeping over her once more.
‘What now?’ he asked as they stepped out onto the street, the cold air like a slap after the warmth of the packed theatre. ‘Would you like to go on somewhere for a while?’
‘Would you?’ Cathy asked, trying to sound cool even though inside she was shouting: YES!
‘There’s a nice bar not far from here. We could get a snack, maybe another drink… At least you could get another drink and the designated driver here could knock himself out with lemonade.’
‘That sounds good,’ Cathy said, nuzzling into him, the action so natural she hardly realised she was doing it. But then she shot up again as she heard her name being called.
‘Cathy…?’
She turned around to see Jonas with a woman. His wife, she had to presume. His manner was open and friendly but he was still the last person she wanted to see right now.
‘Cathy…’ he said again, staring towards them. ‘I thought it was you. You’ve been to see the play? I never had Shakespeare down as your sort of thing.’
‘I didn’t think it was yours either,’ Cathy said. She glanced at his wife, and then Jonas did the same to Matthias.