Free Slime by John Halkin Page B

steps.
    ‘Tim! Oh, love, you poor thing!’ Her arms were around him, her mouth against his, briefly. ‘Oh, but it’s so good to see you again.’
    ‘This time it really has been too long,’ he confessed. ‘We mustn’t let that happen again. I’ve missed you.’
    She insisted on carrying his grip as they went out to the station yard where she’d parked. She was wearing her old yellow ski jacket with dark, narrow trousers which disappeared into the tops of her boots. As they left the booking hall, the wind riffled through her long blonde hair. He was reminded of how she’d looked when they first met. A windy day in a bus queue, it had been. Now here they were, growing inexorably apart, and he seemed powerless to prevent it.
    Working in different parts of the country, meeting only infrequently – well, that was something every actor had to put up with. What he’d not realised was how much they would change within themselves. Of course they’d started with the best intentions, making that mad cross-country dash on Saturday nights or Sundays, just to be together for a few hours.
    But then came extra rehearsals, location shooting, photo calls: always something. From once a week it became every fortnight, then every month. And now…
    ‘The flat’s not far,’ she was saying as she unlocked her battered Mini estate and threw his grip on the back seat. ‘It’s in one of those big Edwardian houses facing the sea – all bay windows and white stucco. Oh, Tim, it’s going to be lovely! You don’t know how much I’ve been looking forward to this!’
    She reversed rapidly out of the parking bay, stabbing at the brake before she changed gear, then swung out on to the road. Tim put his free hand against the dash to steady himself.
    ‘Alison’s dropped out of
Much Ado
,’ she announced. Alison was the actress in the company who usually landed the plum parts. ‘Says she’s been offered the lead in a new thriller series for Scottish TV. So she’s going commercial. Always thought she would.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘Revised cast list went up this morning.’ Sue jammed her foot down on the accelerator to get across the junction before the lights turned red. ‘They’ve given me Beatrice.’
    ‘Seeing sense at last, are they? You’re by far the best actress they’ve got. Up till now they’ve been wasting you.’
    ‘Oh, not really, Tim. I mean – ’
    ‘I’ll come to see this one.’
    ‘Make sure you do!’ she retorted. She applied the brake more gently this time as she slowed to turn into the road fronting the short promenade. There was a long terrace of tall white houses, and she pulled up before the third in the row. ‘
Much Ado
was going to be
our
play, remember? Me as Beatrice, with you as Benedick.’
    ‘That’s still the plan,’ he said. ‘One day.’
    ‘Perhaps.’
    It was obvious she no longer believed him, and he felt hurt she hadn’t even attempted to disguise the fact.
    He got out of the Mini awkwardly, knocking his injured hand against the door jamb, cursing under his breath as it began to throb again. Sue knelt on the driving-seat and stretched over the back to retrieve his grip. Watching her, Tim became suddenly nervous about this weekend; he was desperate for it not to turn sour. Six weeks apart had been too much.
    On the far side of the road was a wide paved area which ended with a two-barred, solid railing, beyond which was the sea. The tide was almost fully in. Waves reared up dramatically, white-maned, before tumbling into themselves and draining slowly back, leaving a spread of seaweed and debris over the narrow strip of sand which was still left uncovered. The late afternoon sunlight glinted on the water. Nothing could have seemed friendlier: no hint of any threat; no menace. No sign of a jellyfish, either in the sea or stranded on the shore.
    Perhaps, Tim thought, they infested only the Welsh coast; perhaps the south was free of them.
    Sue slammed the car door shut and locked it.