Losing the Light by Andrea Dunlop

Author:Andrea Dunlop
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Washington Square Press

THE PREMIERE of Véronique’s play was on a Friday night. The theater was little more than a basement room with dingy rows of seats and a low ceiling. Sophie and I brought Adam along. We hadn’t seen much of him outside of school for the past few months; he had a French boyfriend whom we’d never met. He wasn’t out, according to Adam, but given how conservative and Catholic Nantes was, that wasn’t too surprising.

“So, will Alex be here?” Adam asked as we hurried along the side street to the theater.

Despite the fact that it was now late March, there was still the occasional very brisk day, and I pulled my coat more tightly around myself. “Yes, he should be,” I said. I still hadn’t told anyone about the kiss. The longer I went without saying anything, the harder it became to speak up, and I began to wonder if it had actually happened.

“Can’t wait to meet this mystery man,” Adam said as we joined the back of the small queue outside the door to the theater.

“You’re one to talk about mystery men, Adam,” Sophie said, punching him lightly on the arm.

“True,” he said with a grin, “but not my fault.”

Following each other down the narrow staircase, we sat down in the third row. I didn’t have to look to know that Alex wasn’t in the room.

“We’ll save him a seat,” I said, pulling off my coat and draping it over the chair closest to the aisle. We’d brought flowers for Véronique, and the cellophane around them crinkled loudly in my lap.

Just as the lights were dimming, Alex materialized beside me as if out of thin air. He murmured his hellos and then turned his attention to the stage, where Véronique had appeared dressed in a white nightgown, sitting on the edge of a bed combing her long hair and looking lovely as Chimène. It was oddly thrilling to see her onstage, even in such a small theater.

She gave a stirring performance despite having to play opposite a meek and unconvincing Rodrigue. Was I surprised that she was a good actress? I wasn’t sure. Something about her was malleable but at the same time opaque; you could know her in one sense but not in another.

After the show we went to meet her backstage. Alex looked calmer than when he’d arrived, and he greeted Adam with a hearty handshake that someone must have told him to use with American men. As we wound around the stage to the tiny area behind the curtain, Alex fell behind with Sophie, slinking an arm around her shoulders, asking her what she’d thought of the show.

“Oh, baby”—Adam leaned in to whisper in my ear—“you better watch out for that one.”

I looked at the two of them together. She looked a little sullen, and then Alex whispered something to her that made her laugh.

I turned back to Adam.

“Alex, he seems like trouble.” Adam winked at me and I smiled.

Véronique saw us and ran over. “You came!” Her stage makeup was still on, making her look hyperreal, like a caricature of herself.

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