The Understudy by David Nicholls

Author:David Nicholls
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781588365057
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2007-01-29T16:00:00+00:00

An Offer You Can’t Refuse

Of course Stephen knew he would never tell Nora. Still, he couldn’t deny that there was something appealing, flattering, even, in having Josh dance attendance on him in this way. After the humiliation of the party, it felt like getting even, both for Nora and for himself, and he resolved to leave Josh dangling for a while, to keep him on his toes. At least he could feel confident that he hadn’t been taken in. He hadn’t been conned by Josh Harper.

On the street it had started to rain, and they stood huddled together in the doorway, keeping an eye out for black cabs. “Oh, and by the way,” said Josh, casually, “I’ve been meaning to ask you—you do know my lines, don’t you?”

“That’s my job, Josh.”

“And the moves? I mean, you’d be confident, being me, if you had to?”

“Absolutely. Why?”

“Nothing, I’m just saying there’s a very good chance that you might have to cover for me for a couple of shows at some point, that’s all.”

Stephen laughed. “Rubbish, you’re never ill.”

“No, but what I mean is, I might be coming down with something. In the near future.”

“Well, I’ve got some echinacea in my bag.”

Josh looked somber. “Not a cold, Steve—seriously ill.”

“Seriously? What is it? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking…”

Josh looked at the floor, a choke in his voice. “The doctor says it’s…it’s…skive-alitis.”

“What?”

“Skive-alitis. You know—the Lurgy? Bunk-off’s disease? PlayStation Syndrome? Not now, but maybe on, say, a Wednesday and Thursday? In about a month’s time, December the eighteenth or thereabouts. My Christmas present to you. Would that suit you, d’you think?”

Stephen was silent for a moment. Eventually—“Are you…are you suggesting…?”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” said Josh, with a stage wink.

“…because if they found out…”

“How would they find out? If I’m ill, I’m ill.”

“But the management, they’ll know.”

“How will they know? It’s not like I’m going to pretend I’ve lost a leg or something. It’s just flu, or glandular fever or food poisoning, an iffy oyster or something. If I can cough myself to death onstage every night in front of eight hundred people, then I can convince Donna that I’ve got the squits. I’m an actor, remember? Lying is what I do.”

“Well, thanks for the offer, Josh, but I’ve got to say no.”

“Hang on a sec—you’re telling me you don’t want to play the lead role in a hit West End play?”

“No, I’d love to play it—”

“So what’s the problem?”

“So, it’s just that, knowing what I know, I just don’t feel…comfortable accepting, that’s all. I mean—I don’t want to feel as if the two things are in some way connected, as if I’ve made some sort of…deal.”

“Deal?”

“Yeah—deal.”

Josh put one hand to his chest and took a few steps back in surprise, a response so stock and hackneyed that only an accomplished actor could get away with it. “Hang on a sec, mate—you think it’s a bribe? Is that what you’re getting at?”

“Not exactly.”

“You think I’m doing it just to hush you up? Keep shtum

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