Jon sat opposite the dressing-room door on a small chair he had found while waiting for Karyn to come out so they could head back and see how Madeleine had dealt with her boss. Was that who this Henri was? That was certainly the impression Jon had formed from what Madeleine had said earlier.
He looked at his watch.
3.43.
Then he looked at the clock on the wall opposite him.
9.28.
One of them had to be wrong. He was certain it was the theatre clock. When all of this had begun back at the shopping mall, it had been the middle of the afternoon, and they certainly had not been here for nearly six hours.
Still, it hardly mattered what the time actually was.
All Jon knew was that Karyn, like any woman, was taking forever to get changed. Was it some kind of skill they were taught at an early age? Did they have special classes in how to take as long as possible to get dressed? Maybe it was one of those girls-only lessons, like the health classes the boys never attended.
Yeah...
That had to be it, he thought to himself, smiling as he continued waiting for his friend to emerge from the dressing room.
At last, the door opened.
A blonde woman stepped out.
Her hair had been arranged into carefully sculpted curls, and she wore a light-coloured, short-sleeved knitted top tucked neatly into a dark, high-waisted pencil skirt, finished with cream court shoes.
Jon looked up.
There was no way that was Karyn...
Was there?
He certainly hoped it was not the woman who had slapped him earlier.
She looked remarkably like the women he had seen sitting in the theatre audience during the Pause. Her makeup was restrained enough for everyday wear, yet carefully applied and undeniably elegant.
There really was something about the women in this theatre tonight, Jon thought. They were all attractive in a distinctly old-fashioned sort of way.
No...
Not Karyn.
How much longer was she going to—
The blonde woman looked directly at him.
Her expression clearly asked what he thought of how she looked.
Jon, however, simply glanced down at his watch once more.
“Well?” she asked.
“Karyn?” Jon recognised her voice immediately.
“That’s me?”
Jon desperately searched for something to say. He did not want his best friend to realise that, once again, he had not recognised her. In fact, he had genuinely mistaken her for one of the theatre’s dancers. There was absolutely no way he was admitting that.
If he did, Karyn would almost certainly lose her temper, and that was the last thing either of them needed right now.
“You look great,” he said. He meant every word.
“You have no idea what we women have to go through to look this good,” Karyn informed him.
“Oh, yeah? Do tell.” Jon grinned, hoping to make her smile.
“Maybe another time. Right now, we need to get back to your new friend Madeleine. Maybe she can fix all of this.” Karyn gestured towards her outfit.
“Okay, let’s go... my lady.” Jon held out his arm with exaggerated politeness.
He was obviously joking.
“Why... merci, mon bon monsieur.” (Why... thank you, kind sir.)
Karyn replied with an amused smile as she slipped her arm through his, and together they began the short walk back towards Madeleine’s office.
