Alexander Kalinchenkoadded a note год назад

SPECIAL FOR ВАЛЕРИЙ 😜

Outside the theatre, they talked about whether they'd go on somewhere for a drink (they wanted to get home) and where the nearest bus stop was (just up the road). But now they were on the bus, and conversation was unavoidable.

'Was it good?’ he asked her.

She laughed.

'You tell me.’

‘No,’ he said, too quickly.

‘You're entitled to an opinion.'

‘I know. But just because I'm entitled to one, it doesn't mean it's worth your while listening to it.'

‘It was a good production,’ she said. ‘In my opinion. It was sharp, and light on its feet. And Julianne Lawrence was fantastic.’

‘Which one was she?’

'Rosalind.’

He stopped himself from repeating the question. Rosalind had to be the main woman.

‘Oh. Yeah. She was great.’

'I wondered whether Orlando was a little too dour, but I warmed to him. He was a slow burn. In a good way.’

‘Right.’

He liked her talking about what she thought. It was sort of sexy, for some reason. Maybe it was because he'd never met anyone who would describe an actor as 'a little too dour'. It reminded him that this was new, and different. She'd been sitting there, thinking thoughts and making judgements, and having this access to them reminded him that she was both separate and part of him at the same time. He wanted to get back to her house.

'Would you go to another one?’ she asked him.

Another Shakespeare? Or another play? I like going places with you, so, yeah.'

She wanted to kiss him, right there, on the bus, properly, but she resisted.

‘That guy you were talking to about football.’

‘Ah, he was suffering, man. His wife had booked the tickets.'

‘Do you think he wondered about us? When I came back?’

‘No.’

‘Just no?’

‘Just no. I think you wondered whether he wondered. That was the only wondering going on.’

Maybe that was it, Lucy thought. Maybe there was only wondering about wondering, which had to be as good a definition of self-consciousness as any.