Letters to Juliet

Chapter 13

The first thing she heard on her way to the artists' dressing room, was a like all the devils of hell heckling. She quivered. A swarm of hysterical girls was blocking the entrance, chanting Terry's name. The theatre staff member who had guided her until here did not allow himself to be intimidated, and puffing out his chest, stepped towards the crowd, forcing his way through with his impressive stature.

- Excuse-me, ladies. Please...

Candy was behind him, looking down to avoid the groupies' hateful gaze, who were probably suspecting her as a serious rival. The man knocked several times on the door, which finally opened on Sidney Wilde, who, seeing her, invited her to come in with a quick gesture. She rushed into the opening under the crowd of admirers' indignation shouts, and felt the slam of the door behind her.

- My humble respects miss Andrew! – Cried out the director as he shook vigorously the young woman's hands, the euphoria that inhabited him making him forget the required hand-kissing – I've to leave Terrence to your care while I'll try to calm down this bunch of hotheads.

He was laughing, his eyes narrowing with satisfaction.

- I think they are not going to make it easy for me but I am not complaining. I had not known that for many years, and if it has to be the price of success, I'm very inclined to comply with it. Hand-to-hand in this kind of context never frightened me... - he added moving suggestively his eyebrows.

He did his hair again then, and, pretending to take a deep breath, he opened the door. Screams whipped his face as he appeared on the doorstep, quickly followed with grumbles of disappointment, making Candy smile. A slight distance away, immune to the curious, she watched at him, striving to push the determined intruders back.

- Come on, ladies, calm down! Mister Graham will come and sign some autographs in a few minutes. Be patient, please!...

The door, by closing, covered up his last words. Some murmurs from outside were still be heard but nothing compared to the over excitation to which she had just attended. Sidney Wilde had apparently everything under control, but for how long?...

Squeezing stronger her small handbag that she was holding with a febrile hand, she looked around the room that extended along a whole twenty meters. The troupe was there, busy undressing and getting its makeup off, laughing and singing, while an assistant with a trolley, was painfully sneaking in and out it to get the costumes that littered the ground, for bringing them to cleaning up. A party atmosphere reigned in the dressing room. Tensions had given way to decompression, encouraged by the champagne and the appetizers offered by the Arenas director to celebrate the success of the night. In equilibrium on the tips of her toes, stretching out her neck, Candy, searching for Terry, began to scrutinize each corner of the room, which oddly seemed empty of his presence. Disconcerted, she wondered if she had correctly understood the director's words.

- Terry? – She said with a worrying voice, as she stepped forward.

- I'm here, Candy – answered a male voice hidden by a screen behind her – I'm finishing dressing up...

- That's too bad... - she thought, pouting – I liked you in your costume of Romeo...

The young man appeared from behind the screen, dressed up casual: a clear blue cable cotton sweater, a flannels white trousers and a pair of two-coloured brogue shoes. A chic outfit that remained comfortable. Candy liked particularly this faded blue colour that emphasized his carnation and the bright of his eyes, that some rests of kohl underlined. He was really of an overwhelming beauty and she shivered with emotion.