He blinked a couple of times, his thick lashes sweeping down. He looked as lost as she felt.
‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ she continued, wanting to kick herself. ‘I know the papers lie, I’ve seen it enough times. It must be awful being on the receiving end, and knowing that people are judging you. I should just keep my mouth shut.’
The anger dissolved from his face. ‘It’s OK.’
‘No it isn’t. But thank you for being gracious.’
‘I’m as much to blame. You were only trying to help. It’s just that . . . ’ He trailed off, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. ‘I’ve learned that talking about things doesn’t always help.’
‘OK.’ She didn’t know what else to say.
He gave her
one of his trademark grins. Easy, sexy, completely false. ‘We’ve probably argued enough for today,’ he said. ‘How about we get to work on your play instead? It’s going to take us all night as it is.’
He reached for the papers, shuffling them in his hands. This time his smile felt genuine.
She wanted to call him out on his bullshit. For a moment there he’d allowed himself to be vulnerable, and she’d felt drawn to him. But the moment had passed, and he was clearly in no mood to talk.
‘Sounds good to me.’ And though she was full of questions that kept knocking at her brain, she swallowed them down, grateful they’d reached some kind of understanding.
They had time enough for talking another day. Tonight she needed to work on her play.
16
He hath eaten me out of house and home
– Henry IV Part I
By the time they’d finished, they could hardly keep their eyes open. Cesca glanced over at Sam who was trying to swallow a yawn.
‘You know, we did this all wrong,’ she said. ‘It would have been so much easier if I’d printed it out again. I could even have added in the page numbers this time.’
Sam started to laugh, the tiredness making him almost giddy. ‘If you hadn’t used up all the ink the first time, that would have been a great idea. But unless you want to wait a week for a replacement, then we don’t have a choice. A better idea would’ve been for you to read it out from the computer. We would have got it in the right order in half the time.’
‘I’m such an idiot, I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry.’ The truth was he couldn’t remember a time when he’d enjoyed himself this much. Reading out the lines, taking on different accents. Letting his voice rise in a horrible falsetto whenever he read out a woman’s words. His antics had made Cesca chuckle, and hearing her laughter had been a miraculous thing, especially after the awkwardness of their confrontation.
‘But you’re exhausted. You have bags under your eyes.’
‘So do you,’ he pointed out.
She pretended to look affronted. ‘Well that’s not nice.’
‘What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.’
‘Shouldn’t it be the other way round?’ Cesca asked. Her voice sounded softer somehow, in spite of her amusement.
‘In what way?’ Sam frowned.
‘Well in this case if I took your saying literally, I’d be the goose and you’d be the gander. So it should be “What’s sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose”,’ she explained.
He shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
This time she laughed. ‘Nor have I really. I think I’m delirious. I should probably get some sleep.’
‘We both should.’ But he didn’t want to. Not at all. There was something different between them, different and miraculous. What was it they said about there being a thin line between love and hate? No, not love, Sam told himself. Friendship. That’s what was growing in this room, some kind of tentative camaraderie that he didn’t want to let go of. As though they were taking tiny footsteps towards each other, trying to shrug off the anger and the disappointment that had come before.