Love Lessons

by David Belbin

  The play dominated everything. The dress rehearsal was on Monday, and went OK. However, there was to be a teachers’ strike on Tuesday, the day they opened. The school was closed. Ms Howard had everyone involved with the play come in anyway, to go over the rough patches one more time. The teachers who weren’t on strike could be seen hanging around the empty school, looking guilty. Mike, however, didn’t have to choose between the strike and the play. He had his interview.

  Ms Howard hurried around, harassing everybody. Yesterday, the lights had been a disaster. Several had blown. She’d had a man in all this afternoon checking them and finally seemed satisfied. Now she was going over the blocking with Rachel.

  “Remember, the sightlines during the dance scene are very narrow. You mustn’t get carried away.”

  It was an hour before the performance. They were in the girls’ dressing room, across a corridor from the boys’ one. There was a knock on the door and a familiar voice called, “Everyone decent?”

  Rachel heaved a sigh of relief. Mike walked in, still wearing his best jacket. She wanted to ask how he’d got on, but wasn’t supposed to know where he’d been.

  Ms Howard gave him a grumpy look. “Any joy?” she asked.

  Mike shook his head. “I was runner up. The internal candidate got it.”

  “Bad luck,” Ms Howard murmured, unconvincingly.

  Rachel was relieved. She hadn’t wanted Mike to move back to Sheffield. What she really wanted was for him to get a job somewhere else in Nottingham. That way, they could see each other easily and move in together when they chose to, not when circumstances dictated. Rachel gave her boyfriend the smallest of affectionate glances. He turned quickly away.

  “I’ll get to the boys’ dressing room,” he said. “Good luck everybody.”

  The play was Mike’s first involvement in a school production, so he had nothing to compare it to. Nick made a pretty good Romeo, but there was something missing in his relationship with Juliet - you never really got the sense that they were crazy about each other. Rachel was adequate, though her voice disappeared at times. The supporting cast were mixed. Only Troy Martin, as Friar Lawrence, had a real presence. The set was too sparse. The lighting was all over the place, and the pauses between scenes were almost unbearable. By the end of the evening, Mike had decided that you needed a sixth form to do Shakespeare properly.

  But maybe he was being too critical. The Head described the evening as a triumph. Mrs Perry even came on at the end, after the curtain call, to praise the cast - and Judith Howard - to the skies. Mike, and the other teachers who’d helped, weren’t mentioned by name.

  Mike managed to contrive to take several of the cast home, including Nick and Rachel. He went a roundabout way to ensure that he dropped Rachel off last. Finally, they were alone together for the first time in ten days. Mike parked at the end of her street.

  “What did you really think?” she asked.

  They had important things to discuss, but all Rachel wanted to talk about was the play.

  “You were fine,” he said, “except for a few points where I couldn’t hear you.”

  “Yeah. Ms Howard mentioned them.”

  “The main thing was, it could have done with more passion.”

  “It’s hard to fake passion,” Rachel said.

  “It’s called acting,” Mike said, in a light voice, trying not to sound condescending.

  “If I hold him too close,” Rachel protested, “Nick starts to think that I mean it.”

  “Let him think what he wants,” Mike insisted. “Tomorrow night, kiss him properly.”

  “You mean like this?”

  She leant over and pushed her mouth against his. Mike was hungry for her, but couldn’t take the risk. He pulled away.

  “Not here,” he said.

  “Where?”

  “Next week. Phil and Tracey go away on Tuesday.”

  There were people walking by the car, he realized: young people. They could be on their way back from the school.

  “You’d better get out now,” he said.

  Rachel opened the car door and did as she was told.

  “Goodnight, sir,” she said, loudly. “Thanks for the lift.”

  Mike shivered for a second or two, then drove away.

  Rachel lay on her tomb, listening as the play unfolded around her. Romeo killed his rival, Paris. Then, seeing Juliet’s lifeless body next to that of Tybalt, he took poison and killed himself. Tonight, Nick and Rachel had gelled better. Rachel was glad, because her mum was in the audience. She got ready to wake. Next, Friar Lawrence came in and saw the dead bodies. Rachel got up, and spoke her words.

  “O comfortable Friar! Where is my lord?”

  The friar told her and Rachel sent him away. She didn’t like her last lines in the play much. Romeo got so many great speeches, but she was left with a few pitiful words, berating the man she’d lost for having left Juliet no poison to kill herself with. Rachel wanted a tragic speech, not this teenage tantrum.

  Tenderly, she leant down and kissed Nick. Then the watchman made a noise outside. Rachel picked up Romeo’s knife.

  “O happy dagger!

  This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.”

  As she pressed it against her breast, a blood-balloon burst and Rachel fell to the floor. She had five long minutes on the hard stage as the families appeared and learnt what had happened. Then it was over.

  Tonight’s applause was louder and warmer than the night before, and there was no embarrassing speech from the Head. Nick and Rachel held hands as they took a second curtain call, then smiled warmly at each other as they walked off stage.

  “Walk you home?” Nick offered. “It’s a nice night.” “Sorry,” Rachel told him. “My mum’s here.”

  As she hurried into the dressing room, Mike put an arm around Rachel’s shoulder.

  “Well done. You were brilliant.”

  Rachel gave him her most dazzling smile, but Mike turned away and missed it. He was speaking to Nick. “You too, Nick. Well done.”

  Mum was equally impressed. When they hugged, it was the first time they’d been close to each other for a few weeks. As they were leaving, Ms Howard’s advised Rachel to take the next day off school in order to rest up for the final performance.

  “I’ve said the same to Nick. I know how much energy all this takes up.”

  Then Mike was by the door, in sweater and jeans. Mum didn’t recognize him at first. Rachel hoped he wouldn’t offer them a lift. He didn’t.

  “Wasn’t that your English teacher?” Mum asked, as they walked into the cool, night air. “Is he involved in the play?”

  “He did a lot in rehearsal,” Rachel told her. “He helped me with my lines.”

  “Funny,” Mum said. “I don’t remember you mentioning that before.”

  Fifteen

  Having the day off school didn’t help Rachel relax. Still, the final performance of the play went nearly as well as the night before. Mr Hansen was there, using the school video camera to make a record of it. This made Rachel even more nervous than usual, but she didn’t fluff too many lines.

  Dad was in the audience, as were Carmen and Becky. He waited for her afterwards.

  “You were tremendous,” he said. “I was really proud of you.”

  “Thanks,” Rachel said. “That means a lot.”

  Becky bounded over. “Carmen had to go,” she explained. “She said to say that you were excellent. I thought so, too. You know, I was wrong about you and Nick - you made a really convincing couple.”

  Then Becky noticed Rachel’s father, who was smiling warmly at her.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Rachel?”

  “Actually,” Becky said, “we’ve met before, years ago. I’m Becky.”

  As Dad chatted to Becky, Rachel caught Mike’s shoulder. “Are you coming to the party, sir?” she asked.

  “For a few minutes,” he said. “But I have to give Mr Hansen a lift home.”
/>   “How about you, Becky?” Rachel offered. “There’s a bit of a party back stage for the cast and friends.”

  “Why not?” Becky said.

  Rachel kissed her father goodbye.

  The party wasn’t much of a party. Being at school, there was no alcohol. It was mainly an excuse for people to let their hair down now that the play was over. Nick had made a tape, which he put on. The music was too trendy for most of the cast, but a few kids danced anyway. Mr Hansen played around with the video camera, trying to get embarrassing shots of everyone. Ms Howard watched indulgently from a corner of the room.

  “Dance with me?” Rachel said to Mike, finding him near the tape machine.

  “I’m not sure ...” Mike’s expression said he thought it was a bad idea.

  “For a minute or two,” Rachel insisted. “C’mon. That’s what young teachers are meant to do.”

  “I guess.”

  Nervously, Mike gyrated to Blur’s “Girls and Boys”, a song Rachel didn’t like. As Phil pointed the video camera in their direction, Becky blocked his view.

  “Put that camera down and start dancing,” she ordered the maths teacher. Phil Hansen did as he was told. Soon after the song was over, however, he and Mike left the party. They said abrupt goodnights to the cast and teachers.

  “I guess it’s time for us to go, too,” Rachel told Becky.

  Nick, she saw, was being chatted up by Marie Foulks. Rachel wanted to say goodnight to him, but felt awkward about it. She and Becky walked home through light rain.

  “It’s ages since we’ve had a proper talk,” Becky said.

  “The play’s over now,” Rachel told her. “Things’ll be different.”

  “Is the play all that’s over?” Becky asked.

  Rachel answered uncomfortably. “You mean ...?”

  “Your mysterious boyfriend.”

  “He’s back at university,” Rachel said, wishing that she didn’t have to lie, not tonight, when she was feeling so elated.

  “No, he’s not,” Becky said. “You were dancing with him ten minutes ago.”

  Rachel stopped cold. “Pardon?”

  Becky gave Rachel her old, no-nonsense stare. “I guessed weeks ago,” she said. “But tonight confirmed it - the way he didn’t want to dance with you, and Mr Hansen dragged him home as soon as the song was over. He knows, too, doesn’t he?”

  Rachel stared at the pavement and nodded.

  “In which case,” Becky said, “I think that the least you can do is to tell me all about it.”

  They went to Becky’s bedroom and talked. There was no need to swear Becky to secrecy. She was Rachel’s oldest friend and it was a relief to tell her.

  “You said you knew ages ago,” Rachel said when she’d finished. “How?”

  Becky gave her a slightly patronizing smile. “You had this glow about you,” she said. “I could tell how you were feeling - it was like me and Gary last summer. And I knew it wasn’t just a one-afternoon stand. There had to be a reason why you weren’t telling me about it. You had to be seeing someone you shouldn’t.”

  “But Mr Steadman? I mean, Mike?”

  Becky shrugged. “Once I figured it must be a teacher, it could only be one of two. I thought it was Mr Hansen, but then I kept noticing the way Steadman looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching. At first, I thought it was me he was eyeing up. But I caught you sneaking looks at him, too.”

  “Is it that obvious?” Rachel asked, concerned.

  Becky shook her head. “Only to me, I think.”

  “I’m relieved,” Rachel said. She asked the biggest question on her mind. “But what do you think?”

  “You know what we used to say,” Becky told her. “Only idiots get crushes on their teachers.”

  “This is more than a crush,” Rachel insisted.

  “So you told me,” Becky said.

  The two girls burst into giggles.

  “It’s the best bit of gossip I’ve heard all year,” Becky said when they’d stopped, “and I can’t tell anyone. Do you know how frustrating that is?”

  “I can imagine.”

  “So what are you going to do next?”

  Rachel told her about the Oasis concert. “After that, we’ll have to play it very quietly. Hopefully, Mike will get a new job lined up. But there’s also the exams. I’m way behind.”

  “So I’ve noticed. At first, I thought it was just to do with the play. Still, it’s not too late. We said we were going to revise for English and History together, remember?”

  “Let’s do that,” Rachel said.

  It was getting late. Becky saw Rachel to the door.

  “Do you think what we’re doing is wrong?” Rachel asked.

  Becky met Rachel’s gaze. Rachel saw sympathy in her eyes, but no sign of a judgement. “Who knows what’s right or wrong?” Becky asked. “I mean, if you really love each other... But it’s dangerous. He might lose his job and you...”

  “Yes?”

  Becky thought for a moment. “You’ll probably be all right,” she said. “But be very careful.”

  “I am being.”

  Rachel walked home in the pouring rain, relieved that she’d told Becky. The rain didn’t matter. The play had been a triumph. Mike loved her. Becky was still her best friend, and the Easter holidays started tomorrow. Even Mum, when Rachel came in late, didn’t complain about the time, or her walking home alone, but poured them both a drink to celebrate the end of the play. For the first time in weeks, Rachel fell asleep quickly, not worrying about anything.

  Sixteen

  The Easter holidays were a honeymoon. With Phil and Tracey away and Mum at work, Rachel and Mike could see almost as much of each other as they wanted. And there was the concert to look forward to. Mum was disappointed that Rachel would be away from home on the night before her birthday, but could hardly deny Dad his half of her day.

  She and Mike drove to Sheffield and parked on a side street, then walked to the Arena. There were coaches outside from places as far away as Plymouth and Scotland. It was Rachel’s first gig and she was full of anticipation. Mike told her that she looked great. Walking in with him, Rachel felt proud and not at all out of place, like part of a real couple.

  “Uh-oh,” Mike muttered.

  “What is it?” Rachel asked.

  A woman of about twenty was coming away from one of the food stalls. She was with an older man in a leather jacket. The woman noticed Mike and Rachel. For a fleeting moment, she seemed uneasy. Then her lips became a pout. She gave Rachel a cool, appraising look. Rachel took an instant dislike to her.

  “Hello, Mike,” the woman said, in a neutral voice. “How are you?”

  “Fine,” Mike said. “This is Rachel. Rachel, Emma, and Steve.”

  Rachel smiled at the woman.

  “Nice to meet you,” Emma said, with an odd look.

  The man nodded, with a fierce frown, but didn’t speak.

  “Let’s find our seats,” Emma said.

  As he walked past Mike, Steve grunted something which Mike didn’t react to. So, Rachel thought, that was Emma. She didn’t look anything special. For a second, she worried that they would be sitting next to them. But, no, Mike explained, he’d bought all the tickets, but hadn’t been able to get four seats together. He and Rachel had the better ones.

  They found their seats. Mike and Rachel were in the raised side tiers on the right of the stage. There was a gap between them and the main body of the hall, which was in two all-standing sections, where people could dance. It was like being at a huge house party. The “no smoking” signs were being ignored and half the crowd seemed to be high on something. Rachel felt high on life itself.

  The lights dimmed. Mike gripped her hand. Music boomed out of the PA. Rachel recognized an old Beatles’ song, from Yellow Submarine. The song was followed by another from the same album, “It’s All Too Much”. Then the Arena went completely dark. Oasis took the stage. A year ago, they hadn’t had a record out. Now they were the b
iggest band in the country. It was like a fairy tale and Rachel felt part of it. The music began.

  As Oasis launched into “Rock’n’Roll Star”, the crowd went wild. Rachel jumped up and down. She would have liked more room to dance, like the crowd in the standing area. There was something strange about the standing area, though. The bigger, back section was crowded. The smaller front section, partitioned off with wooden barriers, was less than half full, even now. Rachel asked Mike why.

  “They can’t have more people standing than would normally sit there,” he explained, between songs. “Fire regulations, or something.”

  The band seemed to agree. Before the third number, the singer complained about the empty space. As the group launched into their new single, a tide of people swept across the other side of the Arena, knocked over the barriers and began to climb into the front section. The house lights came up, but the band played on.

  Then the surge began on their side. People from the back standing section vaulted the wooden barriers, then ran down the alley to the front. People from the side tiers by Mike and Rachel jumped down into the alley and followed them.

  “Come on!” Rachel said to Mike.

  “It might be dangerous,” he said, in his teacher’s voice.

  People were helping each other over the wooden barriers. The floor was now a mass of wild, exuberant bodies. Security staff ran around like frightened farm animals, not knowing how to regain control. Rachel wanted to take her chance before they succeeded. She turned to Mike.

  “I’m going. I want to dance.”

  Rachel jumped the four or five feet to the floor. Reluctantly, Mike joined her. They ran to the front. A security guard grabbed at Rachel, but she shook him off. Then Mike helped her over the barrier, and they were in.

  The house lights stayed on, even when security was restored. The front section was now a thronging mosh pit, but there was no crush. During the acoustic set, everyone stopped throwing themselves against each other and held lighters aloft. Rachel felt like she’d died and gone to heaven. Oasis ended the set with her favourite Beatles’ song, “I am the Walrus”. Rachel, elated, sang along with every word.