Centre Stage

Intermission

"Jenny? Can I have a word?" Tom walked into the rehearsal room they were using as their "green" room and called over to her. The group were sitting around, just reading or running lines with each other, today was "mentor" day so nothing much else was happening. And, as Lucy now already knew, it was casting day too. She'd been first. They'd heard raised voices but not much else.

By the time Lucy had finally come back into the room, she'd had her game face on. Impassive but not unfriendly, at the end of the day it wasn't Jenny's fault. It was... it was that...WANKER. She teetered on the edge of fury again but swallowed it quickly. Ice would extinguish it. Inside and out. So, when Jenny was called in, she did her best to look excited for her. They'd been told not to discuss the casting results until after everyone knew.

A few minutes later Jenny bounced back into the room and sat down, looking as pleased as punch. She didn't actually need to say anything, but to her credit, she remained silent. Lucy felt as small as it was possible to feel without physically disappearing. Was she really that child? The one who couldn't bear to be told she wasn't good enough? Seemed so.

The afternoon passed in a round of people disappearing into the office and coming out with varying degrees of smiles on their faces. None, though, looked as unhappy as Lucy now felt. That just added to her shame and determination to keep her head down, her mouth shut and get through this.

It didn't last long.

At the end of the day Tom came back into the room and went over the castings with them all as a group. Jenny beamed when he announced she would be Katherine. The others were all equally pleased with their parts, including Tim who had been given the responsibility of "Chorus" a part that linked everything together. Heavy going and important, he probably had the most interaction with the audience. He was, to say the least, chuffed to bits.

As they all filed out, clutching their now dog-eared copies of the play, fired up and ready to come in the next day as 'new' people, Tom held her arm gently. She looked at his hand as if she'd no idea what it was then looked up at him.

"We need to talk." he said softly. She just nodded, silently.

Once everyone was gone, he walked back through to his makeshift office. Reaching the window on the far side, he perched on the ledge, motioning for her to take the seat at the desk. Still in silence, she sat.

"Tom"

"Lucy"

They spoke at once. Where this would have generated a laugh once, now they just stared. He was about to speak, when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in?" he looked exasperated and ran a distracted hand over his neck and round the back, tweaking stressed muscles. As the door opened, his expression changed, softened. It was the admin officer.

"Oh Sorry, I didn't realise... I err, need a word?" she smiled at Lucy and then looked at Tom earnestly. "It can't wait I'm afraid."

Tom sighed, "Ok, I'll come out, sorry Lucy. Be two seconds ok?"

She nodded and he left. There was the murmured voice of the woman, a miniscule pause then a distinctly un-muffled "Jesus Fucking CHRIST!" then, to Lucy's astonishment a crack as if someone had been slapped. The door opened and Tom walked back in, slamming it behind him.

"So you want to leave do you?" he snapped as he turned. The harsh tone hid the anguish in his eyes. She looked up and a large red welt had appeared on his cheek. It seemed someone didn't like blasphemy. "Well, please don't let ME stop you." he bowed and sat on the window ledge. His eyes brimmed with tears. He only hoped she thought it was because he'd been slapped.

Instantly she was on the defensive. Resolutions to keep quiet and get through this gone in a snap. "YOU? You think this is all about YOU don't you. Well I've got news for you BUSTER. The world doesn't revolve around Tom Bloody Hiddleston." she hissed "If I want to leave it's because I have decided its best for ME. Not because I am angry with you. Which I AM by the way. Livid. Bloody livid. You KNOW I deserve better."

She stood and walked to the door, in a stride he was in front of her, blocking her way. "Get out of my way." she said quietly, menacingly.

"Or what? Will you stamp your feet? Say I'm being a cad and a bounder and slap me too?"

"What, like that woman just did? Good on her. She's obviously got more balls than me, eh? But then she's probably used to you and your... oh FUCK A BLOODY DUCK..." she didn't want another row. "Please just let me go. I can't leave, but Christ knows I want to. I can't bear to be in the same bloody room as you now." she almost screamed at him, trying to push past.

Without thinking, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, his face inches from hers, his breath ragged in his chest. Seething anger, passion, call it what you wanted, flowed. Around them, between them, through them. His eyes glittered, not now with tears, with something else, something that seemingly was in hers too. For a second, there was silence, for a second, he thought he might kiss her there and then.

For a second she thought he was going to kiss her. Anger, torment, passion, all raging through her. She desperately wanted him to, but she wasn't going to show it. She wasn't making a fool of herself again.

"If you want to stay" he said, his breath danced on her lips making her insides melt, "then stay. I won't promise to make it easy. One day Lucy you'll understand, one day..." he trailed away to a whisper. The tension was unbearable but neither would give in.

"Ok." was all she said. "Just respect me, that's all I ask. " she looked into his eyes and for the first time, she caught a glimmer of something other than his anger. "I'm not going to be a child. Now, let go of me Tom, I want to go home. I don't want to be here. Not tonight, not tomorrow. I will be back on Thursday. Tell them what you want, I don't care." she sounded sad now. Defeated. Tom realised he might have pushed it too far.

The tension of the moment was gone. The passion and the fire died away. They literally and figuratively took a step back. Tom swallowed hard, looking at his feet and then, realising he was still gripping her, dropped her hand like it burned him.

"Sorry."

She stepped round him and opened the door to leave. With a final glance, she left, leaving the door open behind her. She ached to turn and run to him, throw herself at his feet and beg. She wouldn't though. She had, if nothing else, her pride. As she receded down the corridor, he suddenly shouted after her. The urge to explain, focussed into one fact, to relieve the pressure.

"Lucy? Lucy! Please, wait."

She turned, unsure what to say or do. She looked back at him, silhouetted against the light in the room. Even that made her want him. Damn him.

"She's my mother. She slapped me because she's my mother and yes, she hates blasphemy. She thinks I'm an idiot."

Lucy said nothing, just turned away, her mind screaming at her. SHE thought he was an idiot too.