Sean Abernethy is the artistic director, and he does not like coloured light.

"No! Not red! Especially not for this play," he calls up to the lighting box.

(You heard the man. Especially not for this play.)

The lighting technician dutifully flicks a switch or presses a button, and the stage is flooded with brilliant white light instead. The actress playing Laura squints in the sudden deluge of light. Henry DuPont – who is playing Jim – whispers: "Inexperienced actors always struggle with the lights. You will get used to it. Don't worry."

"Henry!" Sean bellows, "be quiet! Anybody would think you'd never been in a tech run-through before!"

Henry is thirty-five next month, and will not be spoken to like that. He is a valuable resource to this theatre company! He tells Sean this; Sean makes a noise that sounds like a dog sneezing in reply. Henry quits.

Once the theatre company's valuable resource has stormed off, leaving the scent of expensive old-man aftershave in its wake, the girl who plays Laura is left standing alone on stage. Sean sighs dramatically and looks to the director. The director shrugs. "Take the rest of the day off, Hannah."

Hannah nods and goes to wardrobe to shed her costume. Here she encounters Will, who is gossiping with the wardrobe mistress as he paints glitter onto his eyelids. "Can I keep this?" he gestures the pot of glitter and the seamstress nods. "Hey Hannah," he says happily, eyeing her form in the mirror.

Blushing at being directly addressed like this, Hannah finds an excuse to look away. "Hi."

The air is thick with backstage dust and shimmering particles of eyeshadow.

"Henry has quit the company," Hannah says to break the silence.

"Again?" Say Will and the seamstress.

" 'Again'?" Says Hannah. She's a tad confused.

Will laughs, a pretty silver-bell laugh that makes people wonder about his sexuality. "He quits a couple of times a year. Comes back in a few days' time and we all pretend it hasn't happened."

Hannah hums in response and finishes hanging up her gossamer costume. Will waves goodbye to the seamstress and he and Hannah walk out to the parking lot together. The sun is bright, glaring off wing mirrors and metallic bonnets. Now seems as good a time as any, Hannah muses. "Want to go for coffee?" she asks suddenly, and Will looks over at her oddly. For a moment she thinks he is going to say no, but then his mouth curves into a smile and he nods.

Both of them live in the suburbs, so they drive out towards Cherry Hill and park in Woodcrest. They meander down the high street looking for a small coffeehouse (Will is an artist; he disapproves of Starbucks). After a while, the hot sun gets too much for Hannah and she drags him into a diner. He narrows his eyes but he's equally pleased to get out of the heat.

Their waitress is pleasant, stopping just short of chirpy. Hannah grimaces and orders a milkshake, while Will – regardless of the weather – asks for coffee. "Got to get my fix, haven't I?" he says when Hannah raises her eyebrows. There's a semi-awkward silence as they realise that they have never really been alone together before. "He was too old to play Jim anyway," Will says at length.

"Yeah. I was dreading having to kiss him," Hannah divulges. It's not that Henry is bad-looking, but something about him does repel her slightly.

Will laughs. "Don't think you’re home free just yet. He'll be back."

She smiles, looking out at the blossom tree beyond the parking lot. It is snowing pink and white petals.

"Come on, sit," Miranda said, tugging gently Hannah's sleeve.

"No! I'll get blossom mush on-"

Miranda laughed, pulling Hannah down to the grass and smothering her mouth with a kiss.

"Hannah?"

She jerks out of her reverie. "Sorry. What did you say?"

Will picks his wallet out of his bag and puts a ten on the slightly-sticky table. "I have to go. See you in rehearsals. Three-thirty, yeah?" He kisses her cheek, sending a flush of warmth through her face, and leaves. Hannah smiles and – with a last look at the blossom tree – picks up her things.

She catches a train from the station, stuffing the train ticket in her purse with almost 50 others, and thinks about Miranda all the way home.