by Katy Cannon
He asked questions too, about my life in the UK. I tried to think of the anecdotes from my life that sounded most Willa-ish, but there weren’t many. So mostly I just listened, and thought about what was waiting for me at the waterfall.
After a while, the path swerved into the shade of a row of trees. Then the row grew wider and, before I knew it, we were deep in a wood. The sound of running water – fast flowing, crashing against the stones – grew louder as we walked, and I knew the waterfall couldn’t be far.
Suddenly, my feet stopped moving. It wasn’t a choice – my feet just sort of made the decision for me.
It took Luca a moment to notice. I’m sure it looked like I’d just turned into a statue, right there in the middle of the forest path.
But inside, everything was swirling. All I could hear in my head was my mum’s voice – telling me stories, reciting her old sayings, singing as she cooked the dinner.
What if, by completing her bucket list for her, by asking the waterfall to get rid of my worries, I lost her for good?
I wanted to say goodbye to the anxiety and the fear but those were also the moments when I felt my mum’s presence the most, heard her voice in my head.
“What’s the matter?” Luca asked.
“I’m not sure I want to do this,” I said.
Luca sighed and started walking back towards me. “You couldn’t have figured this out two bus rides ago?” he said jokily.
“Sorry.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Willa. You wanted to come here. When we were researching it, I could tell … this is important to you, right? I don’t know why, but this waterfall matters.”
I nodded stiffly. Luca dropped his rucksack and sat down on a fallen log. “So. What changed your mind? Was it the dark and scary woods? Or the rushing river?”
“Neither.” I sat down next to him. I needed to find an excuse that fitted with Willa’s story. “It’s just … you know how sometimes you build something up in your mind and then when you finally see it or experience it, it’s not as great as you imagined?”
Luca frowned in confusion. “Wait … the legend goes that the waterfall washes away worries. Are you … worried that the waterfall might not actually have magical powers after all?” His voice was only gently teasing, and I knew that he was genuinely trying to understand my freak-out. But he was wrong.
I was worried that it would. Which was ridiculous.
What’s the worst thing that could happen?
The worst was that I’d stop hearing my mum’s voice in my head. Well, no, actually the worst thing was that I’d fall into the waterfall somehow and die. But even I had to admit that was unlikely.
A waterfall couldn’t take my mum away from me.
Now, what’s the best thing that could happen?
I could let go of my worries, like Mum promised. I could feel free again, the way I had when I was dancing. I could move on with my life.
It was time to take the next step towards being the person I was meant to be – not the fearful Alice I had been since Mum’s death, and not Willa either. Just me.
Is it worth the risk?
Yes.
Happiness is always worth the risk.
I got to my feet. “You’re right. I’m being stupid.”
“So we are going to see the waterfall?” Luca jumped up too, ready to follow me.
“Yes. We are going to see the probably-not-magical waterfall.”
Because the real magic I needed was all me.
I was ready to say goodbye and move on.
Tuesday, I spent the afternoon exploring Covent Garden and Leicester Square, while Hal went to science camp. Bored, I entertained myself taking photos of the London I was discovering, before remembering I couldn’t post them to my Instagram account. What was the point of living the London life if I couldn’t even share it online?
Frustrated, I added a filter to a shot of the cinema where all the movie premieres took place, without me in it, and loaded it to my account with the caption ‘Throwback Tuesday. Wish I was in London again this summer. #imisslondon #italianhell’. I figured the only person who mattered that was likely to see it was my mum, and it wouldn’t do any harm to remind her that I was still mad with her about how my summer turned out.
No need for her to know it hadn’t worked out that way at all, just yet.
At the end of the afternoon I met Hal again to catch the Tube home. Mabel was waiting for me at the station.
“How was your day?” she asked, as we walked back towards her flat. Already it felt like our routine, like it was something we’d do every day, for months. “Learn anything interesting?”
“Um…” I tried to remember what Hal had said they’d been doing that day. I’d have to actually listen tomorrow. I’d got him to type the details into my phone yesterday to text to Alice, so she could update her dad accurately, but apparently I needed to know too. “A few things. Oh, but the funniest part was when Hal almost blew up the lab.” That story I definitely remembered.
Wednesday, we spent all afternoon running short scenes and monologues in different styles, and different combinations of people, while Vincent and Billie observed and made notes on a clipboard. It was tons better than the trust falls and ice-breakers they’d had us doing on Monday – at least we got to actually act this time.
It was strange, pretending to be someone other than Alice now. I was so used to playing her part, to inhabiting her life, it was difficult to drop it to become Willa again, let alone a fictional character. But soon enough all my drama lessons from school came back to me, and I focused on thinking about who the character was and what they wanted, then trying to show that in my body and my voice.
Not that Vincent seemed to notice how hard I was trying, or how great I was. Mostly, he just praised Tuppence a lot. (Daisy said that her father was someone famous, which was why he made such a fuss about her. I made a mental note to ‘accidentally’ mention my parents in his hearing some time soon. But then I realized… Even though I didn’t think Vincent was still in touch with my mum, what if he used this as an excuse to contact her? I couldn’t risk it.)
The best part of the afternoon was when we got put into small groups – three actors and a director. Each group was given a short script to act out, with the director in charge of deciding how to stage it and guiding the others on how to perform it. To start, I was disappointed to be stuck directing rather than acting, but actually, I really got into it – to the point that the afternoon was almost over before I even realized how late it was.
Hal showed up at the Old Row Theatre stage door about an hour before we finished, just as we took a break before performing our scenes for the group. He was promptly adopted by Billie, who was finalizing the lighting for our scenes.
“If your boyfriend’s going to hang around here, he might as well come in and make himself useful,” Billie said, before giving Hal orders to meet her in the lighting box with two coffees in ten minutes.
“Is she seriously dating the homeless guy?” Rina, one of the lookalikes, asked, in the sort of voice that was supposed to be a whisper but really carried across the room. “That’s hilarious.” I shot her a glare. Lucky for her she wasn’t in my group, or I’d have found some way to get my own back.
“Why do they think I’m homeless?” Hal asked, as I pointed him towards the backstage coffee machine.
“Because they’re idiots.” Then I raised my voice so I could be sure they heard me. “And even if you were, it takes a special sort of awful to think that the nation’s housing crisis is funny.” Huh. Sometimes I even sounded like Alice when I wasn’t properly trying.
Rina muttered something about me under her breath. I ignored her.
I sent Hal off to the lighting box and headed back to the stage to watch the performances. I felt a slight pang that the others were up on the stage for the first time, while I sat in the wings watching. But they did well, and a warm sort of pride filled me as I applauded my group lo
uder than all the others.
Besides, I reminded myself, afterwards Vincent would be announcing who’d be performing which pieces in the showcase at the end of the following week.
He’d been watching us all day Monday and that day to decide who was the best fit for which part. I’d made an extra effort as director to demonstrate how I thought my actors should perform certain lines whenever he was in earshot. I hoped that was enough to secure me one of the best parts.
It wasn’t.
In a move I should have predicted but hadn’t, Vincent gave all the best parts to Tuppence and her friends. I rolled my eyes as I got handed the script for my monologue. A boring speech made by some queen centuries ago, that had nothing to do with anything. Not an obvious fit for Heatherside. And not even as much fun as directing.
It didn’t matter. Natural talent would show through, right? And if I, as the daughter of two actors, didn’t have natural talent, who would?
Of course, that didn’t stop me moaning to Hal about it all the way home.
Thursday, I was all prepared to go window-shopping for the afternoon, mostly to make me feel better about the stupid monologue, but Hal had other plans.
“We have a science camp day trip this afternoon. Have you ever been to the Old Operating Theatre?” he asked, with just a little too much enthusiasm.
“No. And probably for good reasons.”
Hal laughed. “It’s my favourite museum in London. Just fascinating. You should come with us!”
“Don’t you think your camp leaders might notice an extra person on their trip?” Billie might have welcomed Hal at the theatre, especially since he’d proved actually useful on the tech side, but I couldn’t imagine science camp being so accepting.
“It’s a public museum,” Hal pointed out. “I can just meet you there.”
“OK.” I was willing to give anything a try once. And I probably wouldn’t faint. As long as no one was coming at me with any needles…
Hal obviously sensed my lack of conviction. “And it’s not far from Shakespeare’s Globe. We can head there after, if you like?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Maybe the ghost of William Shakespeare would help me find the motivation I needed for my showcase piece.
Whenever I’d come to London with my parents, we’d mostly been up in the West End, perusing the shops on Oxford Street or watching street performers in Covent Garden. I’d explored the South Bank when we’d been to see something at the National Theatre, but rarely made it further than the London Eye or Borough Market for lunch.
The Old Operating Theatre had definitely not been on my radar.
After spending an hour looking at ancient medical stuff, and hearing Hal’s friend Toby describe how doctors used to saw off people’s legs and arms without anaesthetic, I was done. In fact, my head was spinning and my stomach felt disconnected from the rest of my body. Just as I started to worry that I might faint after all (how embarrassing would that be?) Hal’s teacher declared the trip over, and Hal raced across to tell him he was heading home from here.
We left a few science history diehards obsessing over some old bottles of poison and headed out towards the river, where I gratefully sucked in what passed for fresh air.
“Not planning on changing careers to become a doctor, then?” Hal asked, amused.
“Definitely not,” I confirmed. “What about you? You fancy the medical profession?”
Hal shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I like science – especially biology and chemistry. But I reckon I might like the research side more than the practical.”
“Like your dad?”
“Yeah, maybe. My mum’s a surgeon at the best hospital in London, and I know she’d like it if I followed in her footsteps. I hate having to choose which parent to make happy. Maybe that’s why I hang out at the Old Operating Theatre so often. Trying to figure out which path to take.”
“It’s an interesting place to try to figure things out.” How he could think at all with all those torture devices around was beyond me.
We ambled along by the river, up back towards the Globe.
“What about you?” Hal asked. “What are you going to be when you grow up?”
I rolled my eyes – such a little kid question.
“Can’t you guess? I am going to follow in my parents’ footsteps.”
Hal looked confused for a moment. “Biologist? No, wait, that’s the real Alice.”
I smiled smugly. “The fact you’d forgotten that I’m not her backs up my case for my future career.”
“Spy? Professional conman?” Hal guessed.
“Actor,” I said. “Like my parents.”
“So that’s why the theatre course was such a big deal.”
“Well, yeah. Obviously. Why did you think I was doing it?”
Hal shrugged. “I guess I always think of that sort of thing – drama and art and stuff – as hobbies. Not something people actually do as jobs.”
“Somebody has to,” I pointed out. “Or what would you watch on TV or go to the cinema to see? Not everyone makes it big, I know. But some people do. And I will too.” Of that much, I was certain.
The Globe was spectacular – a replica of how Shakespeare’s theatre would have looked in his day. There were no performances scheduled that afternoon, so I managed to talk my way on to a tour of the actual stage too.
It felt totally different to the small, shabby stage at the Old Row. As I stood in the middle, staring out at the tiers of benches up in the circle, and the standing-room-only area in front of the stage, I tried to imagine acting here.
“I guess this whole summer is just playing another part to you.” Hal appeared beside me unexpectedly, breaking through my daydream. “Are you ever going to come clean? Tell Mabel and Jon the truth about who you are?”
“Why on earth would I do that?” At least, not until I was safely back home with my parents. Then I’d tell them everything, to show them how much I didn’t need them to plan my life for me.
“Guilt, maybe?” Hal suggested.
I didn’t feel guilty. Alice and I had both taken control of our own lives, for the first time ever. What was so bad about that?
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t tell Mabel the truth now.” I moved towards the edge of the stage, sitting on the edge and jumping down to where the audience stood. Turning, I took in the view of the stage from here, my neck aching at looking up even for a few minutes. How great must the performances be to keep the audience doing that for hours? I loved the thought of being part of that. Of creating something that held people completely enthralled.
Hal jumped down after me. “Why not?”
“Because it would screw things up for Alice. She’s having a great time over in Italy. Why would I ruin that for her?” Not to mention that I was having a pretty good time here in London too. I mean, Alice’s descriptions of the village by my Aunt Sofia’s farmhouse sounded cool but the city suited me much better. Other than staring at Antonio, it didn’t seem like there was much to do there.
“So you’re doing this for Alice. Totally altruistic, right?”
I gave Hal my widest, brightest smile. “That’s me. Completely selfless.”
He shook his head. “I hope she appreciates all we’re doing over here to keep your secret.”
“Oh, she definitely does,” I assured him. “I mean, she’ll probably want to thank you personally when she gets back. Maybe even take you out.”
“Like on a date?” Hal asked.
I smiled mysteriously. “Maybe. Maybe.”
We turned a corner and suddenly the steady sound of the river turned into something more like the crash of waves against the sea wall in a storm.
The path was too narrow here for us to walk side by side. Luca had been in front so far but now he stepped into the greenery at the side of the path to let me go first. I smiled my thanks, my heartbeat kicking up a gear as I realized I was really, really here.
I sucked in a deep breath and clenched my hands into
fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. And then the waterfall came into view.
“Oh, wow.” Luca whispered the words. He was so close his mouth was almost against my ear, so that I heard them anyway.
Cascata della Fuga was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. Forget the oceans of the world, with their mysterious depths. Forget Antonio. Forget everything else, in fact.
It started high above our heads, a surge of water flinging itself off the top of a cliff and cascading down the rock face.
“I can’t decide if it looks angry or determined,” I said.
Luca looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “I was just thinking it was beautiful.”
“That too,” I agreed.
“Want to get closer?” he asked. “There’s an information board over there.”
I nodded, and we continued down the path.
“What does it say?” I asked.
“It’s the legend of Cascata della Fuga,” Luca said, scanning the board. “Huh. I didn’t know that. The story goes that some girl was supposed to marry an old guy she hated, but at the last minute a giant bird showed up and picked her up in his claws, carrying her away to the other side of the country. It dropped her here and her tears of relief grew into this waterfall.”
We both looked up at the fierce, forceful cascade of water.
“Legend is that if you stand under the falls and shout your fears and worries into the water, they’ll be carried away by the river and never bother you again.”
“That’s basically what Mum said. Well, apart from the ‘stand under the falls’ part.” Seemed to me that if I had to stand under that I’d have bigger worries.
“No, it’s OK.” Luca pointed to a small box on the information board with a map. “There’s caves behind the falls. Come on, let’s see if we can find the way in.”
He was off before I could agree – or disagree. I followed more slowly.
“Are you ready?” Luca yelled. But either he didn’t hear me say, “No,” or he didn’t listen. Instead, he gave me a small push forwards on the damp, muddy path that wound between the rocks and behind the falling water. Biting the inside of my cheek, I picked my way carefully along towards the hidden cave.
