“Don’t worry. I’m not going to blow this opportunity.”
“I know you won’t.”
“Could you do me a favor and pack a valise for me? I won’t be back tomorrow. I can’t continue this commute. I want you and the girls settled in Bath by the end of the week.”
“Yes, of course. My, it’s all so much to think about.”
“Don’t think too much. Just pack my valise and get to bed. I need to read through this play, and then I’m going to get as much sleep as I can before I need to get up and go back to Bath.” He looked around the cottage. “It’s hard to believe this will be my last night here.”
“Yes. I imagine it is. You’ve been here your whole life.”
“Wait until you see the townhome. I know it will please you.”
“I’m sure it will. Would you like some tea?”
“No, thank you. It won’t take me more than an hour or two to read through this, and then I’m going straight to bed.”
* * * *
Cameron’s morning meeting with Newland went well. Determined not to get writer’s block, Cam sat in his new office, behind a solid cherry desk, comfortably ensconced in a lush leather chair. Newland had moved an old upright pianoforte into the room for Cameron’s use, and he had brought his guitar in as well. Soon he was picking out notes and chords. Within a few hours he felt he had a good start, so he took a break for luncheon and walked around the city for a while. On a whim, he entered a furniture gallery and used ten of his precious pounds to purchase a new bedroom suite for his townhome. He couldn’t sleep on the floor tonight, after all. It was a lavish mahogany four poster, with two night tables, a highboy and a lowboy, and satin sheets and spreads. He made arrangements to have it delivered before he returned to the townhome for the night. After he had enjoyed a meal of roast chicken at a local eatery, he made his way back to the theatre to resume work. About an hour later, Newland entered his office.
“Price, we’re going to do a complete run through of the show. It might help you to have a look.”
“That would be fine. I’ve gotten a pretty good start, I think. Seeing how you’ve put together the production will show me if I’m on the right track.”
“Come on, then.”
Cameron followed Newland into the auditorium and took a seat in the front row next to Milton Trenton, the director. They shook hands briefly and then sat back to watch the play. Trenton took copious notes on the performance, and Cameron was distracted at first by his scrawling, but soon got lost in the fantasy world of Shakespeare’s enchanted forest. Newland played the part of Puck, and although he was tall and handsome with auburn hair and brown eyes, his acting ability was so great that Cameron had no problem imagining him as the impish Robin Goodfellow. It was a treat for Cam, who had never been to the theatre before. This was just a run through, not even a dress rehearsal, but the performance drew him in.
He was going to love this job.
He applauded enthusiastically after Newland’s final monologue, and then left the auditorium and went back to his office. His work needed a few minor changes based on what he had seen, so he sat down and began writing, plucking notes on his guitar as he went along.
Several hours later, Newland poked his head in the door. “Still here?”
“Yes,” Cameron replied. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Nearly seven. How did it go today?”
“Well, I think. Would you like to hear what I have so far?”
“Tomorrow, Price. I’m exhausted. Can I give you a lift home?”
“I should really stay and work through some more of this.”
“Nonsense. It’s your first day. Come on. I assume you’re staying at the townhome tonight?”
“Yes. My mother and sisters will be here by the end of the week.”
“Have you brought in provisions yet?”
“I ordered furniture for the master suite today, but other than that, no. There hasn’t been time.”
“So the kitchen is empty then?”
“I’m afraid so. I ate out for lunch.”
“Then you can sup with me. My chef is excellent.”