“It’s beautiful. You’re really talented.” Evelyn sounded genuine, even when Jos tried to exercise caution. “Do you just paint scenery?”
“I experiment on canvases at home sometimes. But it’s not the same. I’m not saying I’m terrible but my skill really lies in creating something on a big scale, that you should admire from far away. It’s not art really.”
“I think it is,” Evelyn said. “And I’d like to see your canvases too.”
Jos let her gaze linger on Evelyn’s expression. From another more worldly woman she would have taken that as a suggestive comment. From Evelyn, it was difficult to tell. On the surface it was simply an expression of interest. And yet she sensed something below the surface. It might not be an attempt at seduction but, she concluded, Evelyn was trying to tell her that she wanted to know her better. That was a positive sign. All of Jos’s senses seemed to spring to life, alert to any further signals she might receive from Evelyn.
After Evelyn had examined the flats and the way the painted boards created a sense of perspective in the way they were positioned towards the back of the stage, Jos led her through the dimly lit tunnel which allowed the actors to move from one wing to the other, to appear on the other side of the stage within a few seconds, to the astonishment of the audience. Evelyn smiled broadly at this secret revealed. Her smile was so genuine—so honest and so easy—nothing like the forced frivolity of most London women. Everything Evelyn did just seemed to make her more appealing, make Jos want her more. And there was no way she could deny that now. She did want her. But how would Evelyn receive her desire? The idea of being rejected in disgust, or out of fear of the unknown, was horrific.
Jos was still pondering this as she escorted Evelyn up the steep stairs at the side of the stage and into the galleries above. This was where ropes attached to pulleys to control the curtains and scenery, where the spotlights lurked in the darkness, their light projecting downward. Planks and platforms showed where stagehands risked everything to cross the void above the stage, or where they stood to guide the spotlight, all so the audience could be enthralled and delighted. So much technical effort, such a place of grubby industry, to create the myth of the magical world onstage.
The climb was several flights of very steep metal stairs, almost ladders. Jos had expected Evelyn to balk at the idea of climbing them, but she made her way up with remarkable ease. She was clearly physically stronger than her slender form suggested. Jos ascended the steps behind Evelyn, finding her eyes on a level with Evelyn’s calves, watching the muscles flex as she climbed. Even though it was only her lower legs, it seemed a very intimate stolen view of a woman, and her body lurched with arousal she struggled to contain. She imagined running a hand over those legs, sliding it higher.
Drawing a deep breath, she looked down at her own booted feet, trying not to raise her eyes to Evelyn’s form so close in front of her. However appealing it was to watch Evelyn, it was not the done thing to gawk at the woman when she had no way of knowing how Evelyn felt in return.
At the top of the stairs, Evelyn was slightly breathless, her cheeks pink through exertion now. Forced to stand close to her on the small platform that formed the initial landing, Jos caught the slight scent of sweat from her, such a human, earthly smell that it made it almost impossible to contain herself. Damn it, but she wanted to see Evelyn with sweat slick on her skin and the breath coming hard from between those rosy lips, lost in pleasure she was sure she could give her.
Jos bit her lip and concentrated on describing what the various pieces of equipment in the gallery above the stage did, hoping the raspy edge to her voice did not betray her.
Evelyn listened to Jos, fascinated to see the secrets of the stage revealed to her. She knew now that she agreed with her entirely and not at all with Lilian. She almost cared nothing for the illusion of the show that would be perfomed on the stage below; it was here, in the dust and the dim lights of backstage that the magic really took place. Or perhaps, ultimately, it wasn’t about the theatre at all. Perhaps it was Jos. To be here, in this enclosed and secret space with her felt like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Every time Jos looked at her, she felt as though those blue eyes saw right into her. She’d felt Jos’s eyes on her as they’d climbed the steep stairs. And now she stood so close she could feel the heat of Jos’s body close to her, and all she wanted to do was reach out and touch her. To know what it was to kiss her.
How did she let Jos know? She was certain the tension between them meant something, that she was not alone in feeling it. She was sure that, if nothing else, Jos wanted to know her more. The look in Jos’s eyes was almost hungry, and yet the way she bit her lip suggested she was trying to hide something, to suppress something. Did Jos feel the same way? And if she did, then what happened next?
Jos did not suggest they balance on any of the walkways above the stage, and Evelyn was glad. She could see the stage below and the drop was substantial. Evelyn did not feel as though she was concentrating well enough for balancing at such a dangerous height. She would rather
