Midsummer Magic

2012: Tatiana

Part Four: And All is Mended

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Now: Bron

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Now: Bron

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Now: Bron and Tatiana

Epilogue: Three years later

Acknowledgements

Afterword

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

By the same author (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue (#udcdfecaf-9b5a-56d5-8ce3-24b93f5e2990)

‘Thou speakest aright:

I am that merry wanderer of the night.

I jest to Oberon and make him smile’

A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Act II, Scene 1

‘“Lord what fools these mortals be …” You could say that’s my mantra. It’s easy to hypnotise the gullible, but I’ve managed to hypnotise sceptics too. I like to think Shakespeare knew a thing or two about hypnotism.’

Freddie Puck interviewed in The Sun, June 1982

1982: Tatiana (#udcdfecaf-9b5a-56d5-8ce3-24b93f5e2990)

‘You’re late,’ Freddie Puck was standing languidly by the stage door, as Tatiana came flying down the street straight from dinner with her agent, Susan Peasebottom, where she’d both eaten and drunk more then she should have. He was smoking a cigarette, and as usual, looked calm and in control. She hated the way he always did that; she always felt ill at ease around Freddie, as if he knew a secret about her that she did not. But then that was part of what he did, play mind games on people to screw them up.

‘You’re lucky I’m here at all,’ she muttered. After the offer Susan had put to her this evening, she had been very tempted not to turn up.

Freddie looked her up and down quizzically – honestly, sometimes she felt like she was just a lump of meat to him.

‘You done something to your hair?’

Tatiana blushed. She wasn’t sure about her new haircut, a drastic departure from the Farrah look she’d been sporting for the last couple of years. Her hairdresser, Julie, had produced an article from an American mag which pronounced that long flickbacks were out, short was in, and hair for some reason should be red. So Tatiana had been persuaded to have it dyed, trimmed and hacked, so now she had a longish piece at the back, but the hair at the top was cut short and swept back in waves – or it had done when she’d come out of the salon this afternoon. After a couple of hours in a smoky dive with Susan Peasebottom, followed by an undignified race up the road, Tatiana felt sure her hair wasn’t quite the crowning glory the article had promised.

‘Yes,’ she mumbled, almost wishing he hadn’t noticed.

‘Nice,’ said Freddie, nonchalantly flicking out his ash as she walked past him into the theatre, and as usual she had no way of knowing whether he really meant it, or whether he was just kidding her.

‘Tati, darling, love the hair!’ Damn. Bron came out of his dressing room (it still irked her that he had his own dressing room, while she had to share) and gave her a hug. ‘How was dinner?’

‘Great,’ said Tati, hoping he hadn’t noticed the slight flinch as he touched her. It was still the same between them. It was. She kept telling herself that. She had to believe it.

‘Any news?’ he said lightly. She’d let slip there might be something, now she wished she hadn’t. She wanted time to work out what she was going to do.

‘There might be a part in a soap coming up,’ she said.

‘A soap?’ Bron’s face was almost comic in his dismay. ‘You can’t do a soap, darling, Tati, you can’t. It’s selling out.’

The frustration spilled out of her.

‘And this? This isn’t selling out?’ she said. ‘Freddie bloody Puck’s promises won’t pay the rent.’

‘He’s in talks with a TV production company,’ said Bron, ‘it’s only a matter of time …’

Tati put her hands up, ‘I don’t want to hear it,’ she said. ‘Freddie’s always in sodding talks with a TV company. This is real, Bron. I want you to be happy for me.’

Bron slumped, and gave her the sad look she’d seen too much of late. ‘But what about us?’ he said. ‘What about our plans?’

‘I know, we’ll have our own theatre company,’ she said. She’d heard it too many times before. ‘Perhaps I had plans too, but we all know what happened to them.’

She couldn’t disguise the bitterness in her voice.

‘Tati,’ said Bron, there were tears in his eyes, ‘You know I’m sorry –’

‘Don’t.’ Tati looked at him sadly. ‘It’s too late for all that. I have to think about the future now.’