Sons of Fortune

“Shh…haven’t you noticed that every man who meets you is immediately jealous of me?”

“No, I haven’t,” she replied honestly.

Fletcher turned to look at the girl he’d fallen in love with when she’d had a flat chest and braces on her teeth. But even then he couldn’t resist that smile, her black hair, inherited from an

Irish grandmother, and steel-blue eyes from the Swedish side of the family. But now, four years later, time had added a slim, graceful figure and legs that made Fletcher grateful for the new fashion of mini skirts.

Annie put a hand on Fletcher’s thigh, “Do you realize that half the girls in my class are no longer virgins?” she said.

“So Jimmy tells me,” said Fletcher.

“And he should know.” Annie paused, “I’m seventeen next month, and you’ve never once suggested…”

“I’ve thought about it many times, of course I have,” said Fletcher as she moved her body so that his hand touched her breast, “but when it happens, I want it to be right for both of us and for there never to be any regrets.”

Annie nestled her head in his shoulder. “For me there wouldn’t be any regrets,” she said, placing a hand on his leg.

He took her in his arms. “When are you expecting your parents back?”

“Around midnight. They’re attending another of those never-ending functions politicians seem to thrive on.”

Fletcher didn’t move as Annie began to unbutton her blouse. When she reached the last button, she slipped it off and let it fall to the floor. “Your turn I think,” she said. Fletcher quickly unbuttoned his shirt and cast it aside. Annie stood up and faced him, amused by the sudden power she seemed to have over him. She unzipped her skirt slowly in the way she had seen Julie Christie do in Darling. Like Miss Christie, she hadn’t bothered with a petticoat. “Your turn I think,” she said again.

Oh my God, thought Fletcher, I daren’t take off my trousers. He slipped off his shoes and socks.

“That’s cheating,” said Annie, who had removed her shoes even before Fletcher knew what she had in mind. He reluctantly pulled down his trousers, and she burst out laughing. Fletcher blushed as he looked down at his pants.

“It’s good to know I can do that to you,” said Annie.

“Would it be possible for you to concentrate on the words, Nat?” asked Mr. Thompson, not attempting to disguise his sarcasm. “Take it from ‘But here the lady comes’.”

Even dressed in her school uniform, Rebecca stood out from the rest of the girls Mr. Thompson was auditioning. The tall, slim girl with fair hair cascading down her shoulders had an air of self-confidence that captivated Nat, and a smile that made him respond immediately. When she returned his smile, he turned away, embarrassed to have embarrassed her. All he knew about her was her name. “What’s in a name,” he said.

“Wrong play Nat, try again.”

Rebecca Armitage waited as Nat stumbled through his words, “But here the lady comes…” Rebecca was surprised because when she’d stood at the back of the hall and heard him earlier, he had sounded so totally self-assured. She looked down at her script and read, “Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well, now go with me and with this holy man into the chantry by: there, before him, and underneath that consecrated roof, plight me the full assurance of your faith; that my most jealous and too doubtful soul may live at peace. He shall conceal it while you are willing it shall come to note, what time we will our celebration keep according to my birth. What do you say?”

Nat said nothing.

“Nat, had you thought of joining in?” suggested Mr. Thompson. “So that Rebecca can at least deliver a few more lines? I admit that the adoring look is most effective, and for some might pass as acting, but this is not a mime we’re performing. One or two of the audience might even have come to hear the familiar words of Mr. Shakespeare.”

“Yes, sir, sorry sir,” said Nat, returning to the script. “I’ll follow this good man, and go with you; and having sworn truth, ever will be true.”

“Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine, that they may fairly note this act of mine.”

“Thank you, Miss Armitage, I don’t think I need to hear any more.”

“But she was wonderful,” said Nat.

“Ah, you can deliver an entire line without pausing,” said Mr. Thompson. “That’s a relief to discover at this late stage, but then I had no idea you wanted to be the director as well as play the lead. However, Nat, I think I have already made up my mind who will play the fair Olivia.”

Nat watched Rebecca as she quickly left the stage. “Then what about Viola?” he persisted.

“No, if I’ve understood the plot correctly, Nat, Viola is your twin sister, and unfortunately or fortunately Rebecca bears absolutely no resemblance to you.”

“Then Maria, she’d make a wonderful Maria.”

“I’m sure she would, but Rebecca is far too tall to play Maria.”