In the Spotlight: All That Jazz & If Music Be by Charlie Cochrane

Author:Charlie Cochrane [Cochrane, Charlie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Right Chair Press
Published: 2017-03-18T04:00:00+00:00

~~~

“Have a good evening?” Freddie eased into Francis’s dressing room three evenings later bearing hot black coffee and a blueberry muffin. It had become a bit of a ritual, an hour before the first performance of the week. The carbs would soup up the energy levels for ‘All That Jazz’ and Velma could nip off the stage for a pee while Roxie was giving it welly.

“Last night? I was washing my hair.” Francis used his best “barmaid” voice, more Carry On film than Chicago.

“Saturday.” Freddie laid down his offerings on the dressing table, taking his place on a stool like a worshipper at Miss Kelly’s shrine. “You knew I meant Saturday anyway, you cantankerous bitch.”

“It was alright. Actually, it was bloody good. Picked up this really butch bloke, the sort to make Sylvester Stallone look like Shirley Temple.” The exaggeration wasn’t just for Freddie’s benefit. Francis still couldn’t think rationally about what had happened in the bathroom of that nice, comfortable flat with that nice, comfortable rugby player. “And he was a gentleman, with it, which made a bloody change.”

“Go-od.” Freddie didn’t sound sure it was good.

Francis wasn’t sure either. He’d gone home cross, nursing his anger all the way through the dark, quiet streets. Since then he’d caught himself picturing Tommy in his mind’s eye and tried to erase the image. It wouldn’t go. “It was nice while it lasted. Wouldn’t want him to start getting attached.” Would Freddie spot that the lady was protesting too much?

“Not the Prince Charming you were looking for?”

Why the bloody hell did he have to put it that way? As if Francis had that fucking annoying song going through his head the last few days? Someday my prince will come… It had been just like this with Rhys, at the start; not being able to get his face or voice out of mind. Francis tried to ignore that thought, as well.

“Prince Charming doesn’t exist, does he? The knight on the white charger who’s going to gallop up to the stage door and whisk me away. This guy was alright, but he wasn’t the answer to a maiden’s prayer.” Except he was, of course. He had the potential to be everything that Francis truly wanted, deep down. A straight acting, warm hearted bloke you could take home to you mum and the pair of them would spend the evening discussing your faults, while you listened, besotted.

“Well, if you do meet this mythical bloke, don’t try and pretend you’re still a maiden. No-one could see your “I Can’t do it Alone” and believe that for a moment.” Freddie reached over for the pain au raisin he’d bought himself. “Going downmarket? This isn’t your usual brand.” He fingered the lipstick, the one Francis hadn’t quite had the heart to chuck in the gutter when he’d gone to phone a cab.

“It’s…it’s a friend’s.”

“Don’t let Juliet see it, then. She’ll have kittens and call you a chav.” Freddie rose, letting the lipstick drop into Francis’s lap as he headed for the door.

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