by David Belbin
“Ms Howard wants me to play Romeo,” he said, as though it was an imposition, rather than an honour. “But it’s too big a role. If I was doing it, I’d miss a load of lessons and never get up to speed on revision before Easter. So I think I’ll go for Tybalt instead. He’s got a nice juicy part, but then he gets killed, so I wouldn’t be in the majority of rehearsals. How about you? What are you going for?”
Rachel expected Nick to assume she would go for Juliet. But he didn’t. He acted like the lead role would be his for the taking but she would have to audition for a menial one.
“Ms Howard wants me to audition for Lady Capulet,” she told Nick. Half-listening, he asked for a refill of coffee. He didn’t need more caffeine, Rachel thought. He was hyper enough already.
“That’d be good,” Nick said. “Lady C’s mainly in the early parts of the play, too. We’d be at some of the same rehearsals.”
Rachel paused. “She’s also asked me to audition for Juliet.”
“Really?” Nick thanked the waiter. “That’s a big role.”
“Nowhere near as big as Romeo.”
“I don’t know,” Nick said, with a sly smile. “If you’re going for Juliet, maybe I should go for Romeo.”
“I don’t think so,” Rachel said, absentmindedly sipping the dregs of her cappuccino. “After all, as you say, it’s a huge part. Also, Romeo and Juliet aren’t in it together that much — I think there are only four scenes or so.”
Nick smiled and stroked her hand. “But I can’t have some other guy kissing you,” he said.
Rachel removed her hand from his. She looked around the spacious bar to see how private they were. The lunchtime rush was over. There were three other couples at tables. The handsome barman was chatting up an attractive woman who was too young for him. Rachel turned back to Nick. He looked painfully earnest.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I think you should take whatever part you want,” Rachel said. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”
“Have I offended you somehow?”
“No, it’s not that …”
Nick shook his head. He had a penetrating gaze when he wanted. Its intensity unsettled her. “You thought I was being jealous?” he asked.
Rachel tried to explain. “You’re the experienced actor. You know what happens on stage isn’t real.”
Nick began to speak quickly, his words tumbling over one another. “All I meant was - if you get to play Juliet, then I’d rather be the guy playing Romeo. Everything else may be acting, but the kisses are real. I know, ‘a kiss is just a kiss,’ but I want to be the only one kissing you.”
Rachel shook her head. Part of her wanted to manufacture a row with Nick, to give her an excuse to walk out. But that would be too cruel. “If that’s really the way you feel, tell him the truth,” Mum had counselled when they discussed it last night. Mum had told Rachel that she was being immature - pulling out at the first sign of trouble. But Rachel had made up her mind.
“What is it?” Nick asked, putting his hand over hers. “What’s wrong?”
“This doesn’t feel right,” Rachel said.
“What do you mean?”
“Us.” She took her hand away.
“But, on Thursday, we ...”
“I don’t want to talk about Thursday.”
“I don’t understand.”
Rachel hated herself. She wasn’t this cruel, heartless person. It was only a character she was playing. But she didn’t know any other way to behave. How did you finish with someone? She’d never done it before.
“This isn’t working,” Rachel told him, fumbling in her purse, no longer sure what she was saying. “I should never have gone out with you in the first place.”
“Why not?” Nick pleaded. “What have I done? What do you want?”
“I don’t know,” Rachel said, conscious that a couple of people were turning round to look at them. “I don’t know what I want. All I know is, you’re not it. I’m sorry, Nick.”
Rachel slammed a pound coin down on the table to pay for her coffee. Eyes watering, she hurried out of the bar.
Nick still had to pay for the coffees. She had a minute’s grace. Rachel ran across Middle Pavement, into the entrance of the Broadmarsh Shopping Centre. She took the escalator down, then hurried past the Caves of Nottingham exhibit and Forbidden Planet comic shop. The second escalator took her into the mob of Saturday afternoon shoppers. Rachel let them carry her along until she stopped outside C&A, making the Christmas crowd part around her. The shoppers were all too preoccupied to notice the fifteen- year-old girl in the middle of them, wiping the smudged make-up from her sad face.
Fifteen
“Where’s Nick Cowan?” Judith Howard asked on Tuesday lunchtime, five minutes after the final auditions were due to begin.
“He was off school yesterday,” Mike told her. “Still ill, I presume.”
“That puts a spanner in the works,” Judith complained. “But I suppose we’d better get on with it.”
There were eight people auditioning, four of each sex. Michelle Harper was quickly cast as Rosaline. She’d wanted to be Juliet, but seemed happy. That left Marie Foulks from year nine and two girls from year eleven: Rachel Webster and Sarah Smythe. The three were equally matched. Rachel was the best-looking in Mike’s eyes, but Sarah Smythe had the better voice. Marie had a grating voice, Mike thought, but was very confident and manifestly younger than the other girls, which would give the production an interesting angle. Marie was also more experienced. Nick could see that Judith was tilting towards casting her. He and Joyce Jones had a say in the casting, but Joyce also liked the younger girl.
The four boys were all reasonable. None stood out. Stuart Bentley might make a good Tybalt. Paul Johnson would do as Mercutio. A rather overweight boy called Troy Martin seemed to cast himself as Friar Lawrence. A potentially handsome but rather bland-looking boy called Mark Kepper clearly thought he had the part of Romeo in the bag. Mike thought he would be better cast as Paris, the older man who Juliet’s parents want her to marry. They were still short of a Romeo, a Benvolio, Capulet and Montague. The two fathers weren’t crucial parts, but even if Nick Cowan agreed to play Romeo, they were one down.
“Perhaps we could have Mike play Paris?” Joyce suggested. “He’s the right sort of age.”
“It’s a thought,” Judith said. “I’ve cast staff in productions before.”
“I’m not an actor,” Mike protested.
“You seemed very confident with Rachel the other day,” Judith told him, but Mike was relieved when she didn’t press the idea.
They continued trying the auditioners in new combinations. It was clear that Rachel or Sarah would make a good Lady Capulet, but doubts were beginning to creep in about Marie Foulks. She was one of those arrogant kids who did a drama workshop every weekend and thought she knew better than the teachers what “real” acting was.
“I think she might get on my nerves,” Judith Howard confessed in one of their frequent conferences. “Let’s try Rachel again. Joyce, could you have a go at her face - do something with her hair, too?”
Joyce Jones went and made Rachel up. Marie Foulks, seeing this, looked like she was about to go nuclear. When Rachel returned, her hair brushed back, face paler and lips painted a narrow, pale pink, she looked younger than Marie, and much more innocent. Judith got Rachel to change her voice slightly, so that it was more like that of a precocious child than a woman. Mike thought that she was perfect.
“I’m still not sure,” Judith said. “Rachel looks the part, but I don’t know if she’s an experienced enough actress. She’s only had bit parts before.”
“I think she’s good enough,” Mike said, though he had nothing but his own intuition to base it on.
“I don’t know Rachel well enough,” Joyce commented, tactfully, “but I’m sure that Marie would shape up. We could knock the attitude out of her.”
Judith called the three girls to her.
“S
arah, we’d like you to play Lady Capulet.”
“Thanks, Miss.”
The other two girls looked like the nervous finalists in a beauty contest. Rachel glanced at Mike for reassurance. He smiled sympathetically back, but couldn’t offer her any. He didn’t know what Judith had decided.
“We all liked both of you two girls,” Ms Howard said, “and it’s a very difficult choice. We’d like one of you to play Juliet and the other to act as understudy. But I’m afraid we can’t decide which one of you until we’ve cast Romeo. I promise we’ll have a decision by the end of the week.”
Marie and Rachel groaned. The two girls didn’t look at each other. Mike guessed that it was demeaning for Rachel, being in competition with a girl two years younger. They left, and Judith went over for a final word with the boys. It was nearly afternoon break. Mike, Judith and Joyce were free because they usually had an English department meeting at this time, but they all had to teach after break. The boys left, parts not yet finalized. The teachers were about to go, too, when Nick Cowan poked his head through the door.
“Where have you been?” Judith Howard asked, not trying to hide her annoyance.
“Off sick, Miss. I was feeling a bit better this afternoon, so I came in. I wanted to apologize for missing the audition.”
“It’s only just finished,” Judith said. “You could have come along.”
“Sorry,” Nick said, sheepishly. “I thought it was on at lunchtime.”
“Sit down,” Judith said. “We might still have a part for you.”
Nick looked reluctant. He was far too polite to risk offending his teachers, Mike decided, but he wasn’t all that bothered about being in the play, either.
“What role did you have in mind?” Judith asked him.
“I didn’t want anything too big,” Nick said, “not with exams coming up. I thought, maybe, Tybalt.”
“We’ve already cast Tybalt,” Ms Howard said, though this wasn’t strictly true.
“Oh. What’s left then?”
Judith glanced at Mike for support. She wanted him to hook Nick, then reel him in. Mike found himself playing along.
“There’s Romeo’s father, Montague, and Juliet’s father, Capulet,” Mike said, matter of factly. “Neither of those is a big role. The other part which we haven’t made a definite decision on is Romeo himself.”
Nick’s eyes met Mike’s. The boy had an intense gaze which Mike found a little unnerving.
“Who’s Juliet?” he asked.
“That can’t be decided until we know who’s playing Romeo. It’s between Rachel and another girl, Marie Foulks.”
“I know Marie,” Nick said. “She was in Edinburgh with us this year.”
“Are you interested?” Mike asked.
“I would be, if it wasn’t for the exams,” Nick said.
“The play will be over the week before Easter,” Judith Howard assured him. “You’d have plenty of time for revision, I promise.”
“If I took the part,” Nick asked, “would I have a say in who got to play Juliet?”
The cheek of it, Mike thought. Nick was almost blackmailing them. He would only play Romeo if his girlfriend got to play Juliet.
“We’d welcome your opinion, Nick,” Ms Howard said. “But mine is the final decision. And, if my decision happens to be the same as yours, I trust you’ll have the tact not to tell anyone of your involvement. Do you understand?”
“Perfectly,” Nick said.
“And you’ll take the part?”
“All right.”
Judith smiled, then purred the question which she thought she already knew the answer to.
“And who would you like to play opposite you as Juliet?” Nick looked from Ms Howard to Joyce Jones to Mike, almost as though he expected one of them to tell him the answer. Then he put his head in his hands. Why was he making a show of it? He must know that Mike knew he was going out with Rachel. The three teachers glanced at each other. Then Joyce and Judith were both looking to Mike for the next move.
“Are you all right, Nick?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Nick muttered. “I’m making up my mind.”
The three teachers sat there as the bell went for the end of break. Slowly, Nick raised his head.
“Well?” Judith said, her patience almost gone.
Nick took a deep breath. “Rachel,” he said. “I’ll play Romeo, as long as Rachel’s Juliet.”
As Mike and Phil were driving away from school that day, they passed Rachel and Becky, walking home.
“This’ll only take a minute,” Mike said, slowing down. He waved at Rachel and got out of the car. She looked pleased to see him.
“I thought I’d put you out of your suspense,” he said. “You got the part.”
Rachel looked like she wanted to kiss him. “That’s wonderful,” she said. “Oh, thank you, sir. That’s brilliant!”
Mike was getting back into the car when she remembered to ask, “Who’s Romeo?”
“Nick is.”
Her face fell. Becky, too, looked annoyed.
“But Nick wasn’t even at the auditions,” Rachel complained. “I thought…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Never mind. Thank you, sir. See you tomorrow.”
As Mike and Phil drove off, the two girls were already in deep discussion. It was surprising, but obvious: Rachel had finished with Nick. Now the lad wanted to use the part to get her back. That could cause problems in the play; Judith Howard would be fed up when she found out. But Mike wasn’t.
“What’s the good news?” Phil asked, as they turned on to Gregory Boulevard.
“Pardon?”
“You’ve got a smile on your face. First I’ve seen in a fortnight.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Mike said. “Nothing at all.”
Part Two
One
Term was over. Murky autumn had given way to crisp, clear skies in the approach to Christmas. Rachel was feeling good about the world. She had no school for two weeks, and, tonight, she was going dancing.
On her way back from Becky’s, Rachel saw an unfamiliar car outside the house. Quietly opening the front door, she could hear Mum’s voice in the kitchen.
“I know this sounds very callous now, but it will get easier. The wound might never heal, but scar tissue will grow over it ...”
Then another woman’s voice, one which Rachel didn’t recognize. “It’s hard to explain what it’s like without him. I still burst into tears five times a day. The children are being much more mature about it than I am, but I don’t know how we’re going to cope when it gets to Christmas. You see, I had no idea …”
Rachel went upstairs. Another of Mum’s friends’ husbands had walked out on her. For as long as Rachel could remember, Mum had attracted these wounded birds, anxious to learn how to cope in a world without men. Mum, ten years after being ditched by Dad, talked convincingly about women not needing men, how they were only good for making babies. She meant it, too. Rachel didn’t agree with her.
Did Rachel miss Nick? Not much. She still saw him every weekday. He stared mournfully at her in lessons. She wished that he wasn’t in the play next term. Maybe being in the play would force them to get on with each other. Nick would get over her. He would find someone else. And so would Rachel. But not yet. Only yesterday, Mark Kepper asked her out. Mark was good-looking, but had a real reputation as a user. Rachel turned him down without a second thought. Mum was right about one thing: having a man wasn’t everything. Her own life came first.
Rachel wanted coffee. She heard the car outside leave, so went downstairs to the kitchen. But Mum’s guest was still there. She was about Mum’s age, and had clearly been crying. Rachel thought she recognized her, but didn’t know where from. Mum spoke.
“This is my daughter, Rachel. Rachel, you remember Tina Scott?”
“Rachel. Of course,” Tina said. “You came to Colin’s funeral. He used to speak about you.”
Rachel was stuck for wo
rds. “I was very ... very …”
Mrs Scott squeezed her hand. “We all were. But Colin wouldn’t have wanted us to grieve for ever. Life goes on. That’s what he would have said. What’s your new teacher like?”
“Nice,” Rachel said, not sure if this was an insult to Mr Scott’s memory. “But not very experienced. I’m sure he’ll get us all through the exams, but I still - I still miss ...”
She found herself crying. Then Mrs Scott was crying, too. Mum had to comfort them both.
When Mrs Scott finally left, Mum made herself and Rachel some strong coffee.
“You could have timed that better,” she told Rachel. “I bumped into Tina at the shops, looking suicidal, so I dragged her back here. I’d just about calmed her down when you turned up.”
“I’m sorry,” Rachel said. “I didn’t mean to break down like that.”
“I know you were very fond of him,” Mum said, comfortingly.
“I was,” Rachel said, “but it wasn’t only that. Mrs ... Tina was right. Life does go on. Mr Scott’s barely been dead for two months, but I haven’t thought about him for weeks. Doesn’t that make me awful?”
“No, that’s silly. There’s so much happening in your life that you have to leave things behind, keep moving on. There’s no need to feel guilty.”
Rachel stared into space.
“Where are you going tonight?” Mum asked, sitting down opposite her.
“Rock City. There’s a bunch of us going to celebrate the end of term.”
“All girls?” Mum murmured, as she stirred sweetener into her drink.
“Gary’s giving us a lift.”
“Just you be careful. I don’t want you having too much to drink or trying some kind of drug and ending up in bed with a strange man.”
“Mum, even if I wanted them, which I don’t, I can’t afford drugs or lots to drink,” Rachel protested.
“You don’t have to have the money,” Mum lectured. “There are lots of men who’ll give them to a good-looking girl like you.”
