“I tried to stop him,” exclaimed the girl.

A doorman, breathing heavily, ran in.

“Ha-ho!” said Jack shrilly and he took a seat.

“Come with me, son.” said the doorman.

“It’s all right,” said Eddie. “This is Mr Ferris. This is our playwright.”

The cast, bewildered by his appearance, turned to look at Jack Ferris. His eyes were nervous and exhausted, the black hair turning grey was swept back so tight to his head that the bones of his forehead gleamed like horns. The laces on his mud-caked army boots were hanging askew. The zip on the fork of his jeans came to half-way. He was wearing a bright-red jumper under a green oilskin coat that had one ripped pocket.

“Ha-ho!” he said. The girl nervously withdrew while the doorman held the door ajar for her.

“OK, everyone take a break,” said Eddie.

He approached Jack warily.

“I brought you some more revised pages,” said Jack pulling a bundle of sheets from under his jumper.

Eddie took them without comment.

Jack looked at the actors who had gathered embarrassed round a kettle and some paper cups.

“Would you like to go some place where we can talk in private?” Eddie asked.

“Here will do nicely, thank you.” He watched the actors regain their composure. They started to chat as if he wasn’t there.

“Where’s Catherine?” he asked.

“She’s free today.”

“That’s a coincidence.”

Eddie held the revised pages uneasily. “Look, Jack, I don’t want an argument.”

“There will be no argument. I wanted to see her, that’s all – if she was here. If she’s not here, fine. I just came to deliver the new text.”

Relieved, Eddie skimmed through the handwritten notes.

“What do you think?” Jack asked.

“I’ll need time. There’s an awful lot of changes here.”

“Don’t you think it makes for a better script?”

“If you say so.”

He continued to read the pages. “Lots of this we have already rehearsed. We’ve moved it, it’s all nearly done.” Then he placed the pages into his script. “I’ll look at it later, OK?” They sat there a while in silence.

“I was thinking of sitting in on a few rehearsals.”

“In the circumstances, I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Is Catherine of that opinion?”

“It’s my choice. And I don’t want you talking to the actors.”

Again came the silence. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“No,” said Jack. “I think I’ll go. I just wanted to make sure you got that stuff.” He stood. “I’ll send the others on.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

“Good luck,” he shouted to the cast.

Embarrassed they mumbled greetings in reply. The girl followed him with her eyes as he walked through the foyer. The doorman opened the door but kept his eyes aloft. “Thank you,” said Jack. He went into a bar down the street, and found a place where he had the theatre under view. He stayed there watching the front door and everyone that came and went, but Catherine did not appear.