Chapter Forty-One

Bryony

Most Likely to Become Famous

Considering the absolute state of the last couple of hours and the years it s robbed from my life, the final hour of my epic ten-year school-reunion party flies by in a blur. The ragtag comeback one-night-only performance of the school band play a couple more pieces - and I do in fact absolutely slay my old Swan Lake solo.

They don t need to know I occasionally practise it.

And after that, we turn the music back up, the last of the fruit punch and pizza is consumed, and everybody throws themselves wholeheartedly into making the most of the night. I even agree to lead a little tour party up to the old common room when enough people pester me that they want to go see it; nobody tries to sneak out now they know I could be fired for their fuck-ups, and I finally feel myself relax a little, only just realising how much I was on high alert at the start of the night.

Ryan regales everybody with a tale of being stuck in a chemistry classroom with the sprinklers going off, his damp shirt plastered to him and drawing a few ogling eyes, even as he stands around with his jacket slung over his shoulder like this is an intentional fashion choice. I notice that before coming back into the hall, he cleaned off the distinct red smudge around his mouth that looked suspiciously the same colour as Ashleigh s lipstick.

Ashleigh, for her part, looks miserable as sin any time she s not plastering on a smile to talk to somebody, pretending to be chipper and like everything is A-okay.

I am dying to ask her what actually happened between her and Ryan and get all the gory deets, but I can t seem to get her back on her own. Actually, I think she might be avoiding me; she and Hayden stay attached at the hip. I know he was practically hiding behind her earlier, although this time, I m not sure exactly who s looking out for who.

Steph, however, I do manage to corner.

So, I say to her, sidling up as soon as a couple of the art girls she was talking to flit away to move on to mingle with other people. You and Shaun, huh?

Steph s face crumples, and - I immediately feel bad. Like I just called her out for a little white lie, like I was doing to people earlier. But she attempts a smile and looks across the room to where Shaun is stood next to his fianc e and with his old mates.

And she shakes her head. I don t think so. But I think we both needed the closure.

Oh. So, you guys didn t ? I just mean, you were gone for a while, is all, and you both looked a bit

No, she says, and I don t believe her, but - in fairness to Steph, she doesn t owe me the truth. I m still, clearly, a huge gossip and delighted by any scandal that s not of my own making, and we haven t hung out in ten years. She doesn t owe me anything. But she does say, We talked a lot. About a lot of things. I suppose we weren t meant to end up together, after all.

Guess not.

Steph puts her hand on my arm and squeezes. We used to be so sure we knew everything, but none of us had any idea, did we? Some things just don t work out the way we planned, but that s okay. It s not our only path, is it? There are plenty of others to take.

Like Curtis, I say.

She tilts her head and even though she agrees, Yeah, like Curtis, I get the feeling she s trying to tell me something else, and wasn t actually talking about her and Shaun at all.

It s only after she walks away to find Morgan and co. that her words sink in, and I think maybe she s right about how we really didn t have a clue back then.

I don t bother trying to get Shaun s side of the story, because he doesn t really move from his little crowd and asking him how that closure with his ex went when his fianc e is right there feels like a total dick move, and I ve put my foot in it more than enough tonight already.

Instead, I carry on mingling, moving from one group to the next to chatter and giggle and soak up praise about the party and answer questions about being a teacher.

Which is, like, weird .

I don t like that people are being nice about it - aside from Freddie Loughton and RJ, who make sure to get in a dig about how sad they think it is, but Ryan shuts them up pretty quick with a glare and announces loudly, I think it s totally badass. And it s a great move, Bryony - long holidays that give you time to pursue your acting career as well, like teaching s not already keeping you busy enough. Serious kudos to you.

But even without Ryan having to call his mates to toe the line, people are nice about it, and not even like they re just pretending because they feel bad for me. They want to know how I find it and what it s like being back here, and how I find the time and energy to do all the other stuff on top of that, and why didn t I say before?

And when I say, It isn t what I saw myself doing, that s for sure.

They say, Do you like it, though?

And I don t hesitate to tell them, Yeah. I love it. I wouldn t give it up for anything.

But - I still wonder. I think, maybe Maybe if the right role came along, the right opportunity

When was the last time that happened, though?

And when was the last time I really believed in its existence? The more I think about it, the more I realise that for the last few years, those auditions and rejections and roles I ve begrudgingly taken and resented, have only been because I can t let go of it - not because I want them. Not because any part of me likes it anymore.

When those thoughts get too big for my brain, I take a step back from the party to hang out on the fringes, by the last vestiges of the soft drinks, like a chaperone at the Year Seven disco, and I let my brain get carried away with it all. I think about Steph closing the door on her and Shaun and talking about different paths, and what Hayden said about how I made myself so small, and how much I hated the bitter, mean version of me that reared its head earlier tonight in a desperate attempt at self-protection. I think about all those nights I cried myself to sleep, and all the mornings I woke up on a weekend or in school holidays, knowing I had an audition tape to film or a rehearsal to get to and how bone-tired the mere thought of that made me, and I d want to sink back into bed and bury myself under my duvet and hide until it was time to go to work again, rather than face it.

The clock ticks on and the party whirls by. I watch the whole thing unfolding, the vigour and enthusiasm even greater now than it was earlier with some renewed gossip spreading through the crowd and more memories resurrected. I look at people laughing and smiling and hugging and dancing, standing over phones as they compare calendars and swap contact info and make new plans to go alongside old memories, and

It feels good .

It s the same warm glow that I get when my kids give a killer performance, or when we pull off a good show and they get to bask in the applause. Pride in a job well done. In knowing I made that happen . This is all because of me.

It s the same exhilarating rush as when it used to be me soaking up the spotlight.

At ten-thirty, when I get up on the stage and stop the music, it s a sense of homecoming. Something right and final, slotting into place - the last piece of a jigsaw. I stand front and centre with the microphone in hand, lights bouncing off my sparkly jumpsuit, and all eyes on me, a hush falling over the crowd as they wait with bated breath for me to deliver my line.

Hi, everybody! Just a few last words from me and then it ll be time to say our goodbyes. So tonight wasn t quite the party I d planned for you all, and it s safe to say it didn t exactly go off without a hitch. A laugh ripples through the crowd and I smile. But hey! I wanted to give you all an event you d be talking about for years, and I think I managed that, right?

Whooo! someone shouts, and most people join in and applaud. I throw my free arm out to one side and take a little bow, then slip the microphone out of its stand to move around the stage a little, getting comfortable.

We had a power cut a fire alarm a slightly pitchy performance from the old orchestra You laughed and danced and gossiped and kissed people you fancied and caught up with friends and enjoyed some spiked punch, which sounds about like how prom went, right? And honestly, I don t know what more any of us could have wanted from this reunion. So all that s left for me to do is thank you all for coming out tonight and making this such an epic party, and wish you all a safe journey home!

People burst into cheers and applause, and someone is running up on stage.

I turn, a grin ready for Ryan as I prepare to hand him the mic so he can say a few words, but - it s not him.

It s Hayden who gives me a bright smile and takes the mic and says, Thanks, B, before he looks out to face the crowd, grabbing my hand.

Hang on, hang on, just one last thing! he calls, and the microphone screeches. A collective wince doesn t deter Hayden, though, whose hand turns a little sweaty in mine. I think we ve got one more person to thank for pulling everything together to make this all happen, and even putting her career on the line for it. Whatever else you achieve in life, B - you re a leading lady as far as everybody here is concerned. Tonight s Master of Ceremonies and the wizard behind the curtain - folks, give it up for Bryony Adams!

Hayden hurls our hands high above our heads and practically yanks my arm out of the socket doing so, but then he lets go, returns the mic to the stand and joins in the storm of applause that s not for the party, not for the joy of tonight, but purely for me .

I watch Hassan and Josh and Shaun stomp their feet, and Ryan and the rugby lads throw punches in the air as they shout my name, and Ashleigh and Trendy Elise and Roisin applaud over their heads, and Steph and the girls jump up and down as they scream for me, all linked elbows and smudged mascara.

I take a bow, but it s not with my usual dramatic flourish, and I give a watery laugh nobody except maybe Hayden overhears, looking out at my sea of admirers as the ferocity of their standing ovation threatens to bowl me over.

When it dies down, voices replace the sound of the music I stopped and people make their way out to taxis and cars, the night over, and I leave the stage.

Truly, the curtain fell on tonight when we were all out on the tarmac and I stopped lying to everybody. But this feels like the true grand finale.

It s a perfect encore.

And my very best, if last, performance.