He’s here to make a start on his movie and today’s a trial run.
Right now the slanting sunlight pools on their tense, focused faces as they work through the drama piece I’ve set them, one of my favourites. It’s from a play about love and loss, hope and despair, the twists and turns of fate and how a chance remark or a misplaced glance can lead to joy or death.
We’re working on the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet.
It’s going surprisingly well. They totally get the passion, the jealousy and the violence. They get the feuding and the loyalties, the sex, the interfering adults and the street fights. To them this is home turf. Even the language is just another gang speaking its own code. They don’t know the words but they get what they mean.
As they act it through I almost kid myself they’ll remember some of it; at least till they get back out on the street and real life kicks in again.
Foolishly I feel proud. I love my work.
Right now there’s a hushed silence as we all lean forward, keen to see how Winton, our new Romeo, gets it on with Suki, our Juliet. Their balcony greeting was a triumph – delicate and intense.
Winton has a problem with one of his lines. Unknown to him it’s one of the most famous in literature and one of the best loved in Shakespeare.
‘But soft! what light through yonder window breaks?’
Ever fascinated by their take on things I wait while they explore the image here.
Winton’s genuinely perplexed. ‘But soft? What’s he sayin’ to her? “Hi, Babe, your butt’s soft?” C’mon, man. He’d just say, “Hi.”
There’s a ripple of laughter and another voice joins in. ‘High? Sure is if he thinks light kin break windows. What’s he on, man? Ms Dean, kin we break a window? Like – a sound effec’ or sump’n?’
Sometimes the students teach me more than I teach them. Behind his camera even Eldon’s grinning.
I’m calling a halt before we get too deeply into the precise dosage of Romeo’s pre-Juliet entertainment when a slender girl walks into our midst. She looks round calmly, seemingly unaware she’s interrupting something.
We all go into freeze-frame.
Early in the year the students here are edgy. I tend to get the odd stray wandering in from other classes. Today word will have gone round about the movie-making so I’m expecting several. Sometimes they even join in.
But this girl puzzles me.
She has the confident air of a socialite, plus she’s beautiful in a fair, haughty kind of way. She has high cheekbones, hazel eyes and silky hair. Her eyes fasten on me with a glimmer of satisfaction.
‘Hi.’ I speak low in the sudden silence. ‘Are you looking for somewhere?’
‘This the drama class? I just found it.’ She has a light accent. She tilts her head and smiles. ‘Mind if I watch?’
‘Sure.’ I grin. This one must be from rehab. Her manner is cool but something about her is tense, like she’s hiding something. They’re often like that. ‘Take a seat.’
Behind us the camera keeps on whirring. We carry on with the lesson and I’m deep into some complex stage instruction about facing to the front so their voices will carry when I hear a flurry of movement at the back of the hall. More visitors.
I ignore it, but now the silence lengthens as the students stare past me at something over my shoulder. Slowly I turn round to see who it is and I freeze.
Darnley? Here?
He’s standing just inside the door, flanked by his men. I watch spellbound as they fan out silently along the walls. The students are equally mesmerised. They’ve all seen hit men on TV. They know instantly these are the real deal. And all eyes, mine included, fasten on the striking figure at their head, his presence as arresting as his namesake predator.
He scans the room, pointedly ignoring Eldon, and then fixes on me. For an earth-shattering second I feel slow heat rise in my cheeks then his gaze passes on without interest. A smile of surprised greeting dies on my lips as he fastens on the blonde, now gracing a battered canvas chair near the front of the stage, her slender legs in a model’s pose.
He strides across the room, grabs hold of her arm and hauls her roughly to her feet.
He knows her?
He speaks low but his angry words are clear and forceful. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
She glares up at him, gives a sulky toss of her head and allows herself to be led away. As she goes she darts an angry glance at me. She snorts through small, finely drawn nostrils.
At the door Darnley turns to Eldon, his voice low like it’s an afterthought. ‘Ditch the camera.’
Instantly his men manhandle the camera out of his brother’s grasp and vanish out of the door after Darnley and his prey.
Eldon looks on, as astonished as the rest of us.
The whole episode takes about three minutes.
Eldon curses as he stares at the space between his hands where the camera was. He looks so comical the students burst out laughing. They think it’s part of the drama and he’s acting the clown. Mercifully the tension shatters and now he sees the funny side too. He grins round at them, an instant hit.
Crisis averted.
I breathe a deep sigh of relief while they break into excited chatter.
‘Wow, awesome.’
‘Who was that?’
‘Was he part of the play?’
‘Cool.’
Winton, my sulky new Romeo, is a petty thief here for help with anger management. He looks shaken, his best lines far upstaged. ‘What the fuck?’
The girls are still in shock, mouthing o-mi-god to each other like so many dazed goldfish as Darnley’s own special brand of stardust sparkles in his wake.
The diversion is a huge hit but now I’m in shock too.
Darnley? With a blonde? Here?
And even worse – the cold hostility of his look and his air of suppressed fury. I fight down my own and force myself to grin. Under the surface, questions bubble up and simmer, festering into rage. He could have warned me. ‘Don’t mind them,’ I say, airily. ‘They’re on loan from CSI.’
My joke causes a new flurry of excitement. As my phone signals I snatch it up.
It’s from Darnley. Pigtails?
Shit.
Eldon’s
