Читать книгу Showtime - Jean Ure, Stephen Lee, Jean Ure - Страница 6

There are some people who think that being ballet students we don’t have to suffer normal school-type lessons such as maths and geography. They have this cosy picture of us dressed in our tights and leotards doing nothing but dance, dance, dance all day long. I wish! Not that I actually mind doing ordinary lessons. I really enjoy art and English. It’s true I don’t much care for maths, but that’s probably only because I’m not very good at it. I would willingly not ever have to solve an equation again for the rest of my life! But we have to do what Dad calls “the academic stuff” to make sure we’re properly rounded human beings. At least, that’s what they tell us.

“There is absolutely no call,” as Mrs Sinclair once bitingly informed us after we’d pulled faces at the prospect of a double period of maths, “no call whatsoever for a dancer to be ignorant.”

She would say that, of course; she is Head of Academic Studies. What she didn’t say, but what we all know, is that we need to be properly educated in case we don’t make it as dancers and have to go out and find regular jobs like other people. It’s what we all secretly dread. Caitlyn says it’s one of her worst nightmares. “I’d just die!” Like Nico she had to fight really hard to get to ballet school. Not because she has a dad that disapproved but because her mum is a single parent and couldn’t afford lessons.

I can understand why she worries, though in her case I honestly don’t think there’s any need. Mum, who is just about the most critical person I know, says that Caitlyn is a natural born dancer and that she has that elusive thing, star quality. I just don’t think she quite realises it! Even after all this time she sometimes doubts her own abilities. She’s not being mock modest, she genuinely is modest. Just as I’m not being boastful when I say that I’m actually well aware of my abilities. I know that I have a solid technique, a sense of the dramatic, and excellent ballon (meaning that I can jump very high and land very lightly). It’s important, Mum always says, to know where your strengths lie. Those are my strengths! But of course you have to be aware of your weaknesses, as well, if only so that you can keep working on them. I, for instance, have had to accept that my line is not as pure as Caitlyn’s and that I still have problems with adage. Gentle floating is not for me! I am far more of an allegro person. Quick footwork, fast turns. That’s what I’m best at.

When it comes to ordinary lessons, English is what I’m best at. I have quite a vivid imagination, I really enjoy making up stories, but what I love most of all is being chosen to read aloud, like last term when we did To Kill a Mockingbird and I put on an American accent and everybody said it sounded just like the real thing. Even Ms Turnbull, our English teacher, congratulated me. She said, “Well, done, Maddy! Very authentic.” I can do French and German, as well. And, of course, Spanish! I love trying out different accents.

On our second day back we had English immediately following morning class. We always do an hour of class first thing, then academic studies for the rest of the morning. Dancing all afternoon! I was quite excited when Ms Turnbull told us that because of the company bringing Romeo and Juliet back into the repertoire, we were going to be reading the play that term. I knew the ballet almost from first step to last. I must have seen it at least five or six times on DVD, with wonderful dancers such as Margot Fonteyn and Alessandra Ferri in the role of Juliet – a part I would give anything to dance – but I had never actually seen the play.

“We won’t be reading all of it,” said Ms Turnbull. “Just the key scenes that tell the story, to prepare you for the ballet. I think, however, that we should start with the Prologue, as that sets the whole thing up. And as there are, of course, far more men’s parts than women’s, I think we’ll give that to one of the girls.”

She paused, her eyes roving round the class.

I sat forward, eagerly. Me, me, I thought. Choose me! I knew I sounded like I was back in Infants. It was all I could do not to wave my hand in the air! But I’d already glanced through the Prologue and I knew I could make sense of it. (Which of course you can’t always in Shakespeare. Not without a struggle.)

“Let’s have … Roz! You read it for us.”

I sank back, disappointed. Roz is my friend but it has to be said she is absolutely useless when it comes to reading aloud. Especially Shakespeare. She turned and cast me this piteous look. She knows how passionate I am about anything to do with words. Plays, books, poetry. I do so hate it when they get all mashed and mangled! Still, the Prologue looked quite easy. Surely not even Roz could mess it up?

But she could! I listened in agony as she stumbled her way through.

“Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Venora –”

Verona, Verona! Had she never heard of Verona?

Roz stumbled on, obviously not understanding half of what she was saying.

“…from forth the fatal lions –”

I ground my teeth. Gently Ms Turnbull said, “I think, Roz, you’ll find it’s loins.”

“Oh. Yes.” Roz pulled a face. “Loins. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes …”

We finally managed to stagger as far as one of the scenes we knew so well from the ballet: a room in the Capulets’ house, with Juliet’s nurse, her mother (Lady Capulet) and Juliet herself. It’s where Lady Capulet breaks the news to Juliet that she is to marry Paris – even though, of course, she’s in love with Romeo. I sat up straight again, willing Ms Turnbull to notice me.

She did! But oh, guess what? She didn’t want me to read Juliet, she wanted me to read the Nurse. Silly old fat Nurse! A role always taken by dancers who are nearing retirement. My only consolation was that Caitlyn was Juliet and she didn’t actually have much to do in the scene. It was mainly me as the Nurse and Tiffany as Lady Capulet. Tiffany, to be fair, is quite a good reader. And the Nurse, as I quickly discovered, has a simply enormous long speech. (Thirty-three lines! I counted them.) Afterwards Caitlyn said that that was obviously why Ms Turnbull had chosen me to read the part.

“Nobody else could have done it!”

My cheeks went a bit sizzly at that. I hardly ever blush but even I can feel embarrassed on occasion. I muttered that I was sure Tiffany could have done it, which caused Amber to cry that Tiffany was absolutely brilliant! Which in turn obviously embarrassed Tiffany, cos instead of preening, as she normally would, she quickly said, “I’m nowhere near as good as Maddy. The way you got through that speech was amazing.”

It is not like Tiffany to be so generous, especially towards me. She finds it difficult, what with me having a mum and dad who both used to be members of the company, not to mention a brother who is one of their leading dancers. But then, when I think about it, I am perhaps not always very generous towards her. We simply don’t get on! Still, if a person is good at something you can’t not say so; that would be very small-minded. I’d found it really rewarding, doing a scene together. Not having to grit my teeth every few seconds or listen to Shakespeare’s words being messed up. (Venora! I ask you.) It didn’t alter the fact that what I still wanted more than anything was for Ms Turnbull to choose me as Juliet. We didn’t have English again until later in the week. I reckoned that the next big scene we came to would be the balcony scene, where Romeo sneaks into the Capulets’ orchard and sees Juliet appear on her balcony.

What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east and Juliet is the sun.

I knew the words so well, even if I’d never seen the play. I think they are probably words that most people know. Juliet’s, too:

O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?

I did so long to do the balcony scene! As soon as I arrived home I rushed upstairs to my bedroom to start practising it. I needed to be word perfect and to know the meaning of every line.

“So where are you off to in such a hurry?” demanded Mum.

“Got homework,” I said.

“Oh?” Mum sounded agreeably surprised. I am not, as a rule, so eager! “Sean’s going to be here in a minute. He’s coming to have a word with Dad about the new ballet. I’m only telling you,” said Mum, “because last time you complained about being kept in the dark and not having a chance to say hallo. But if you’re going to be busy with homework—”

“No, no,” I said. “I want to see him!”

I’m always happy to see Sean. I don’t count school, where we practically have to behave like strangers. I do like to be able to talk to him sometimes, though usually when he calls round he claims he’s in a mad rush and doesn’t have a moment to spare. You have to catch him at just the right time and practically beg for an appointment. In spite of that, we do actually get on really well. Caitlyn, with her mad hero worship, used to be horrified at all the bad mouth she says I give him. But it’s no more than he gives me! It’s our idea of fun. He might be an important person in the company, but he’s far from being grand. He is really quite easy-going, so long as you don’t try interfering in his life like I did last term when he and Danny temporarily split up and everyone warned me not to get involved, only I did anyway, cos that’s the sort of person I am, rushing in where (Dad says) angels fear to tread. Sean got quite mad at me, just like Jen had told me he would. It was worth it in the end, though, when he and Danny got back together. Sean even apologised for chewing me out.

I leaned over the banisters and called down to Mum. “Let me know before he goes!”

“Yes, all right,” said Mum. “Just get on with your homework! I’m glad to know you’re being so conscientious for once.”

It’s easy to be conscientious when you care deeply about something. I don’t honestly care very much at all about maths or geography, which was our official homework for that evening. Usually I just do enough to scrape by. But I suddenly cared so much about being picked to read Juliet that it almost hurt. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if Ms Turnbull chose one of the others and they messed it up!

I turned to the balcony scene and settled down on my bed to read it. Some of Romeo’s speeches were rather long, so I mostly skipped through those and concentrated on Juliet. I did hope, if I got chosen – fingers crossed! – I really did hope that whoever was picked as Romeo would be able to make proper sense of all his words. Maybe it helped that I’d seen the ballet so many times. I not only knew the story and all the characters but even when I came across words I’d never met before I was mostly able to work out what Shakespeare was saying.

I became so engrossed that I almost forgot I was in my bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed. I really felt that I was Juliet, standing on my balcony in the moonlight, exchanging forbidden words with my beloved Romeo.

Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

I actually jumped when I heard someone tapping at my bedroom door. For a moment I thought that Nurse had arrived and that I’d been caught out! And then a voice said, “Mads? OK if I come in?”

The door opened a crack and Sean’s head appeared. “Mum said you wanted to see me?”

“Oh. Yes!” I sat up straight against my pillows.

“So.” Sean closed the door. “What can I do for you?”

I was about to admit that all I’d wanted was the chance to say hallo, but then I thought that maybe, if he was in a good mood and not in his usual rush …

“Well? Speak!”

“I don’t suppose you could spare a few minutes?” I said. “Or are you in a hurry?”

“Not specially. Why?”

“D’you think you could read a bit of Shakespeare with me?”

He sighed. “If I must.”

I said, “Please?”

“All right, all right! Anything to oblige. What are we reading?”

“Romeo and Juliet. The balcony scene.”

“Oh.” He sat down next to me on the bed. “Slurpy lurv!”

“It’s not!” I was indignant. “It’s beautiful!”

“You think?”

I flapped at him with my Penguin Shakespeare. “You know your trouble?” I said. “You are just so unromantic.”

“Yup! That’s me.”

“Romeo and Juliet is one of the world’s greatest love stories.”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“I don’t know how Danny puts up with you. If I were him I’d—”

“Well, you’re not, so just get on with it. Romeo, Romeo—”

“But you’ve got a great long speech before Juliet comes in.”

“Soft what light through yonder window breaks it is the east and Juliet is the sun blah blah blah …do you really expect me to wade through all that?”

“Maybe just the last few lines?”

“Let’s skip straight to Juliet. Go on! Off you go.”

“Ay, me?”

“No! Her first actual speech … there.”

He jabbed a finger on to the page. I immediately sprang up and made like I was standing on my balcony, staring out into the orchard.

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and—”

“Hang about, hang about!” Sean held up a hand. “Gotta stop you right there. What exactly do you think she’s saying?”

“Well …” I knew what she was saying. It was obvious! “Romeo, Romeo, where are you?”

“Wrong. What she’s saying is, why oh why do you have to be called Romeo? If only he were called something else … in other words, if only he weren’t a Montagu. Anything but a Montagu!”

He could obviously see the disbelief on my face.

“Look, there’s a family feud, yes?” I nodded. “She’s a Capulet: they’re never going to let her marry a Montagu. So it’s not Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo, it’s Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”

I was still doubtful. “Are you sure that’s what it means?”

“I know that’s what it means.”

“How?” I said. “How do you know?”

“I know many things,” said Sean, smugly.

“So … you’re saying that wherefore means why?”

“Back in Shakespeare’s time,” said Sean.

I found myself torn between relief that at least he had told me so that I wouldn’t make an idiot of myself if I was chosen to read Juliet, and a feeling of annoyance that Sean, who didn’t even like the play, obviously understood it better than I did.

“If you want to know the truth,” he said, “the last time the company did the ballet was when I’d just started at the school and we all had to read the play and every single one of us got it wrong. Including me. That make you feel better?”

I nodded, gratefully. “What I don’t understand,” I said, “is why you don’t dance Romeo?”

“I will, I will! Probably next season.”

“It would make Caitlyn ever so happy. It really upsets her when Mercutio gets killed.”

“That’s one of my favourite bits!”

Cheekily I said, “Yes, I saw you staggering about, hamming it up.” I stumbled off across the bedroom floor, writhing and choking and clutching at myself in agony.

“Honestly, the nerve of it,” said Sean. “It asks me to give up my valuable time reading through some piece of romantic rubbish—”

“That’s why you don’t dance Romeo,” I said. “You’re obviously terrified of showing emotion!”

“Button it,” said Sean. “Any more smart mouth and I’ll leave you to get on with it by yourself. Start again, and try to make better sense of it this time.”

My hard work paid off! Two days later, when we had English again, Ms Turnbull chose me to read Juliet. By then I knew the scene so well I could have done it without the book. Oliver, who was reading Romeo, stumbled a bit but I pretended to myself that that was because he was hiding in the Capulets’ orchard, where he was in danger of being discovered at any moment. Maybe even by the vengeful Tybalt.

Afterwards Ms Turnbull thanked me for reading so well. She said I’d really brought Juliet to life.

“And congratulations for getting the first line right … Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? It’s the first time I’ve ever known anyone do so!” And then, since everybody was looking puzzled: “It doesn’t mean what you probably all think it means. Tell them, Maddy! What is Juliet saying?”

“She’s saying, why oh why do you have to be called Romeo?”

I managed to do it without blushing. It might have been Sean who’d set me right, but I thought I should be allowed to take some credit. I had, after all, put in a lot of effort, reading the scene over and over and over again, which I didn’t think anyone else had. I just wished there was someone I could tell about it. Mum, Dad, Sean … Hey, guess what? Ms Turnbull thanked me for reading so well. She said I really brought Juliet to life!

They would all be polite about it – well, Mum and Dad would be. Sean would probably claim it was all thanks to him. But none of them would truly be able to understand how important it was. How much it meant to me! I could only hug it to myself and bask in a warm glow of satisfaction.