by Suzy K Quinn
‘Oh. Thank you.’ The red-headed girl smiles. ‘My name is Tanya Holmes.’ Her accent is Yorkshire and when she smiles, dimples appear in her white cheeks. ‘It’s terrific here, isn’t it? I had no idea there was anything like this in London. Actually, I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.’
Wendy hands her a key, and turns to the man in the wheelchair. ‘And you are?’
‘Tom Davenport.’ Tom takes her hand and kisses it. ‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance.’ His accent is clipped and perfect, and exactly what I expected an Ivy College student to sound like. In short, nothing like me.
Tom takes the key, and turns to me. ‘Hello there. Are you a new student too?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I’m Sophia. Call me Soph.’
‘A pleasure to meet you too, Soph,’ says Tom, clearly fighting his conscience over the abbreviation. ‘My, you’re extremely beautiful, aren’t you?’ He takes my hand and kisses it too. ‘You look to have some Italian blood in you, would I be right?’
I smile, and nod. ‘On my mother’s side.’
‘Just so you know,’ Tom says, ‘if you’re after any sexual experiences here at college, my door is always open.’ He winks at me. ‘I’ve already extended the invitation to Tanya here, so you’ll be in good company.’
Tanya shrieks with laughter, then smiles at me. ‘I’m Tanya. Good to meet you Soph. Have you been here long?’
‘Just got here,’ I say. ‘I’ve only met one other student.’
‘Oh?’
‘He’s called Ryan.’
‘Well let’s go grab him,’ say Tanya, ‘and head over to the student bar. It’s gone five. That’s beer o’clock, isn’t it?’
Tom frowns. ‘Shouldn’t we unpack first, dearest?’
‘There’s plenty of time for that later,’ says Tanya, waving a dismissive hand. ‘Leave the bags in the boot and come for a pint.’
‘I don’t want to destroy your notions of me as an alpha male,’ says Tom, ‘but a gin and tonic is more up my street.’
‘Double?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Then that’s fine.’
Tanya runs up the stairs to find Ryan, but comes back alone. ‘He says he wants to carry on getting his room in order,’ she says, putting an arm around both our shoulders. ‘Never mind. He’ll catch us up.’
Chapter 10
We tread a gravel path through manicured lawns, and find an oak door facing our student accommodation. When we push it open, there’s a cosy pub set up inside, with a bar serving real ales, whisky and brandies. All the stools are made out of beer barrels, and there’s a thick rope nailed along the bar. I feel like we’re inside a ship.
‘How did you know this was the bar?’ I ask Tanya.
She taps her nose. ‘Let’s just say I have a talent for more than just acting.’ She blushes. ‘Oh shit, that came out wrong. I don’t mean to sound big-headed or anything. I don’t mean ... I mean, I’m not saying I’m not a good actress, but -’
‘There, there my dear.’ Tom puts an arm around her waist. ‘No need for this ridiculous modesty. We’ve all been awarded a place in one of the most prestigious colleges in the country. Of course we have a talent for acting. Which is not to say we don’t have a lot to learn. Now. What can I get you?’
‘Pint of Old Peculiar,’ says Tanya.
‘And you my love?’ Tom turns to me.
‘Um. White wine please?’
‘Certainly.’ Tom rings the bell, and to our surprise Wendy appears from some mysterious place at the back of the bar.
‘My word, a woman of many talents,’ says Tom. ‘Receptionist and landlord too. How marvellous.’
Wendy gives him her toothy grin. ‘I run everything round here. You’ll soon learn. Well? What can I get you?’
Tom gives her the order, and we all take seats on the stools.
‘I’m nervous about meeting him, aren’t you?’ says Tanya, holding her pint.
‘Meeting who?’ says Tom.
‘Who do you think? Marc Blackwell of course. He was dead snooty at my audition. Told me I needed to work on my accent more. I came away thinking, what a rude so and so.’
‘I liked him,’ Tom declares. ‘He’s had a heck of a life – we can’t expect him to be all hearts and flowers. I found him honest and intelligent, and I respected him. Not everyone has the courage and strength of conviction to tell it like it is. He gave me some great feedback about how to use my body. He didn’t sugar coat it. He just said, Tom – you’re slouching. Sit up better, we’ll feel you more. Not many people say things like that to a chap in a wheelchair.’
Out of the window, we see more pupils arriving. There’s a girl with icy blonde hair, and a tall, well-built boy who looks sporty.
‘Of course,’ says Tom, ‘he has less of an allure to me than to you two girls. But ... he is certainly one of the finest actors alive today. And I was very impressed by him in The Windmills of Your Mind. He’d clearly done his research. So, I’m looking forward to being taught by him.’
‘He is on the abrupt side, but I have to admit he’s just so ... charismatic,’ says Tanya. ‘In my audition, I nearly fainted when I saw him. It’s those eyes. You see the whole world in them. I bet there aren’t many girls on the course who don’t fancy him. How about you, Soph?’
I feel myself go red. Silly. After all, who doesn’t have crushes on actors? ‘Maybe a little.’ When I think of Marc’s eyes again, I nearly miss my lips with my wine glass. ‘But he seems a bit cold.’
‘He gives one million a year to charity,’ says Tom. ‘Maybe he keeps his nice side hidden.’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ I say, taking a sip of wine. ‘He’s sent us all welcome presents. They’re in our rooms. Have you seen yours?’
‘No,’ says Tanya. ‘I haven’t seen my room yet. Look – more new students.’ She points to three people coming into the bar – the two students we saw arriving earlier, and Ryan.
Up close, the icy blonde girl has very pointy features, and although she’s pretty, her expression isn’t friendly. She’s very tall, and glides to the bar beside the well-built boy and Ryan.
‘It’s nice to meet you all,’ says Tanya, smiling her brilliant smile. ‘Soph here says we’ve all got welcome gifts from Marc Blackwell. Isn’t that amazing?’
The icy blonde girl gives a curt nod. ‘He wrote us cards, too. Mine said he hoped I enjoyed my time at college.’
Ryan leans towards the girl. ‘Cecile, that one over there thinks her card said what a talented actress she was, would you believe.’
Cecile gives a screech of laughter. ‘You’re kidding?’ She throws her hair from one shoulder to the other. ‘Why would he say that to you? Who are you, anyway? Why would he even know who you are?’
‘He saw my audition,’ I hear myself say.
‘No, no, sweetheart,’ Cecile says. ‘He was only there as head of the college. Denise was the one who picked us. I have a brother who works with Denise Crompton’s husband and he gave me the inside scoop. So none of us are all that special to darling Marc. Although I’m hoping I’ll be special to him by the end of the course.’
‘It’s still a nice gesture, though,’ I say, thinking back to the card and wondering if I misread the handwriting.
Cecile shakes her head. ‘He probably got his secretary to do it. Although I’m hoping for a rather more personal card by the end of term.’
‘Marc Blackwell saw Soph’s audition,’ says Tanya, waving her pint so it spills. ‘And if his card said Soph here is a great actor, I’m sure he meant it.’
Cecile looks me up and down. ‘Why would he?’ she says, without a hint of teasing in her voice. ‘I’ve never seen or heard of you before, and I know anyone who’s any good. You don’t even look like you come from London, no offence.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ says Tanya.
‘Children, children.’ Tom wheels between the two girls. ‘We should be celebrating our fabulousness. We’ve all been accepted at this amazin
g college. Which means we’re all terrific people. So. Let’s have a drink to terrific people.’
He raises his glass.
‘To terrific people,’ Tanya and I say.
‘And are we all excited about meeting the man himself tomorrow?’ Tom asks.
‘Tomorrow?’ says Tanya.
‘Why, yes indeed,’ says Tom. ‘He’ll be hosting our first seminar.’
‘Will he?’ Tanya says. ‘What time?’
‘It was in our introductory paperwork,’ says Tom. ‘Nine o’clock in King’s lecture theatre.’
I remember the piles of paper the college sent me when I accepted my place. I didn’t get to read all of it. I had so much to do before I left – making sure Dad and Genoveva had enough food in, and Samuel had nappies and giving the house a last thorough clean to last them until I could come back.
‘Exciting, isn’t it?’ says Tom. ‘First thing tomorrow, we’ll be meeting the infamous Marc Blackwell.’
Chapter 11
When I wake up the next morning, I think maybe I dreamt Ivy College and Marc’s card and flowers. But here I am, and there the flowers are – beautiful roses, on a highly polished table near a window overlooking the greenest of green grounds.
I feel excited and refreshed. I did the sensible thing last night and went to bed early, even though I was having fun with Tanya and Tom.
Before I went to bed, I checked the card again and sure enough – it was exactly as I remembered it. A very talented actress. Handwritten and signed by Marc Blackwell.
Mr Blackwell, I remind myself. You don’t know him. Just because you’ve seen him on the big screen, it doesn’t make you friends.
I get up and read the card again, and as I bring it closer to my face I smell something good. Like woodlands. Trees after the rain. I bring the card right to my nose and inhale. I catch sight of myself reflected in the French windows, and rest the card back on the flowers.
What on earth are you doing, Sophia? I twiddle my hair and look out over the college grounds. Don’t be a silly student with a crush. He sent gifts and cards to everyone.
I take a quick shower, smoothing serum into my hair to make it extra shiny, deciding to let it hang loose and dry naturally. Then I dress in my new skinny jeans and high leather boots, and choose the bright green slouchy jumper that Jen said made me look beautiful. Nothing too fancy for my first day. I love performing, but off stage I don’t like to draw too much attention to myself.
I’m too nervous for breakfast, so I take a walk around the grounds instead. I love being among trees and greenery – it’s good for my soul. If I can’t be around nature at least once a week, I feel empty.
The grounds are peaceful, and the lawns are covered in dew. It’s still sunny, but the slight coolness of autumn is already beginning to take hold, and I’m glad I wore a jumper.
I take a walk through the woodlands, loving the bird song and stillness. The soil is fresh and clean, and I think maybe I could plant a vegetable patch out here. There’s plenty of space between the trees, and I could give what I grow to the kitchen. I don’t feel like myself unless I’m growing things.
As I pass a clutch of fir trees, I discover something that takes my breath away – a small, still lake with green reeds growing all around it. The lake must be manmade, as there are no streams or rivers around here, and the water is very clean and pure.
I breathe in cool, fresh air and wish I had time to go for a quick swim. Not for the exercise – I could cross the lake in a few strokes – but for the feeling of being in natural water, surrounded by trees.
I sit by the reeds, and pull off my shoes and socks, sinking my warm feet into the icy cold water. The bottoms of my jeans get wet, but I don’t mind – I like feeling part of the woodlands.
A screeching sound sends a squirrel scampering back up a fir tree, and I snatch my feet out of the water.
What was that?
I take a few steps through the woods, feeling puffy soil under my bare feet, and realise I’m very near the college car park.
I peer through the trees, and see a black Ford Mustang screech to a halt in the car park. Brushing aside a sapling branch, I watch the convertible slide into a parking space reserved for college staff. It takes me a moment to realise I’m not breathing. The shadow in the car is tall and broad and, as I hear the door click, I grip my trainers.
Marc Blackwell emerges from the car, rests his elbow on the soft bonnet and looks over the college buildings. He’s wearing a tailored black suit and shirt, and takes a cigarette from his jacket pocket, lighting it with an effortless flick of his palm.
I’m momentarily mesmerised. The way he moves is so elegant. So refined. Even the way he inhales the cigarette and blows it towards the tarmac is like a dance.
He heads towards one of the college buildings and inspects the brickwork, looking up at the tall, red walls, his eyes following a crack that runs all the way up to the roof. Then he stalks back to his car, smoking and glaring.
I watch, barely breathing, watching him smoke and frown at the ground. Suddenly, his cigarette is finished, and he stubs it somewhere inside the car and slams the door.
He takes two strides towards the college, then – to my horror – turns and looks at the woodlands, right where I stand.
I freeze, and my heart beats in my throat. I feel my cheeks colour, and realise how stupid I must look, standing there with damp, bare feet.
Has he seen me? Oh god. Yes.
He walks towards me, a little smile playing on those dangerous lips.
I want to run and hide, but his eyes hold me frozen to the spot.
He looks even better than I remember him. Tall – taller than he looked in the audition, and his long limbs move like water. His light-brown hair is a little long on top, and falls slightly over his forehead and his left eye.
‘Miss Rose.’
I open and close my mouth. He remembers me. My teeth suddenly feel huge in my mouth.
‘Good morning, Mr Blackwell,’ I manage, not meeting his eye.
‘What, may I ask, are you doing out here with no shoes on? Don’t you realise it’s autumn? You’ll catch cold.’
I look at my bare feet, turning blue with cold now. What must he think of me, sneaking around in the woods, watching him? ‘Um. I was paddling in the lake.’
‘In the lake?’ Marc’s jaw hardens. ‘It’s cold in there.’
‘I like the water,’ I say, lamely.
Marc’s brow furrows. ‘I have a duty to look after my students. Don’t go paddling again.’ He runs a hand through his hair. ‘However. I’m pleased to see someone exploring these woods. I like people to enjoy my trees.’
‘They’re not your trees.’ I don’t mean to say the words out loud, and I feel red blush spreading up my neck.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘They’re ... the trees. They’re living things. Not yours or mine.’ I feel the red reach my cheeks.
Marc stares at me for a moment. He rubs his ear with his thumb and forefinger. ‘Still correcting me, Miss Rose?’
‘I ... no. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.’
‘Just like at your audition.’ Marc cocks his head. ‘I’m still intrigued by what you said that day. Light and dark. Seeing the goodness in every character. I wonder, Sophia. Do you see both in me? Light and dark?’
I look up at him. It’s not fair. He’s holding me with those eyes again, and I’m rooted to the spot. I can’t think. I can’t move. I’m about to answer. To tell him yes – I see both. But suddenly he turns and strides away.
Stunned, I watch his broad back stalk across the college car park.
After a few moments, I put on my shoes, and head back towards the college.
My first seminar with Marc Blackwell. Even thinking those words is scary, but after our little encounter in the woods, the thought of seeing him again is scarier than ever.
Standing in line outside the lecture theatre, I clutch books to my chest and feel my heart beat agai
nst them.
I think over what just happened. It was so surreal. Maybe I was dreaming. I wonder, Sophia. Do you see both in me? Standing so close to Marc Blackwell – it’s still affecting my body, even after the event. I feel wobbly, like I’ve just stepped off a fairground ride. I’m so nervous at the thought of him walking down the corridor. I try not to think of his eyes or his fingers or lips.
I check my watch. It’s five minutes to nine, but I’ve been waiting outside the lecture theatre for ten minutes now. I stopped back at my room to pick up my course books, and now they’re starting to feel heavy.
I can’t see Tom or Tanya – I guess maybe they’re nursing hangovers and will turn up as late as possible. But I see Cecile and Ryan. I smile and wave at them. Neither seems to notice me. By the sound of things, they’re too busy gossiping about Marc: parts they’ve seen him play and newspaper articles they’ve read about him.
And then, I hear clipped, measured footsteps.
Chapter 12
Someone whispers: Shush!
I clutch my books tight and turn to see the man I just saw in the woods – the tall, dark, blue-eyed actor who makes thousands of women weak at the knees.
Those eyes. They’re such a deep blue, like a Caribbean ocean, and suddenly I remember Tanya’s words: You see the whole world in them.
I’d planned to look away from him. To pretend we didn’t speak this morning. That the whole scene in the woods didn’t happen. But I don’t need to. He glides right past us in that agile, graceful way, head high.
I imagine he’s used to getting his own way, and having people bow and scrape. He walks like a man on a mission, and his shoes smack the hard floor like gunshots.
As he passes me I smell trees after rain and remember the card. I find myself inhaling deeply.
He stops and turns then, and I breathe out quickly. I try to keep myself steady, but I can feel my books slipping in my arms.
He looks down at me. ‘How did you enjoy your walk this morning?’
I swallow. ‘Very much, thank you.’
‘I’m glad to see you have your shoes back on.’ He raises an eyebrow and gives a quirky little smile that makes my heart squeeze.
