O' for the love of Shakespeare (10 page)

BOOK: O' for the love of Shakespeare
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Act III Scene I

 

‘Get thee to a nunnery.’ 
Hamlet

 

“Sorry I really should go to find Mrs McCree to
apologise, you should get dressed.”  I try not to make eye contact with him.

“Really are you sure?  Have I done something
wrong?”  If I am not mistaken, he sounds a little bit hurt.

“No not at all you are lovely.”  It is true he
is lovely, sweet and gorgeous.  The problem is I had built up a whole different
image of him and now I feel disappointed that he is something else.  However,
that is my problem not his.   

“So can I still see you tomorrow?”  He says
pulling on his jeans.

“Umm yes OK shall I meet you at the café in the
theatre at ten tomorrow morning again?”

“Great.”  He breaks out his knicker-dropping
smile and grabs his jeans to start getting dressed.  I still can’t help having
a little pervy look as he buttons up his shirt.  He really is the most
beautiful man I have ever met.  I grab my top that was thrown in passion on to
the floor and slip it back on. 

Once Malcolm has dressed and grabbed up his wallet
and phone from the other bed, he walks over to me and gently kisses my cheek
while squeezing my hand.

“Happy Birthday again Jane, I’m a bit confused
by what just happened but I can’t wait to see you again in the morning.”

“Yes, see you then.  Thank you again for today,
I’ve had a really lovely birthday.”

Standing alone in my bedroom once again, I
brush my hair through so I don’t look quite so mussed up and go out in search
for Angela to apologise and explain.  I find her dusting in the living room,
she must have seen Malcolm leave.

“Hi Angela.”  I stand on the threshold of the
room not wanting to interrupt her work.

“So, good date?”  She’s laughing, thank
goodness she’s not upset.

“I guess I’ve had worse.” I smile shyly.

“So why did he rush off?  I thought you two
would be upstairs making the beast with two backs by now.  I hope it wasn’t my
interruption that called a halt to all the fun.”

“Angela!  No things had gone off the boil a tad
before that.”

“Really?”  She looks confused.  “From what I
saw I think that young man could warm up anything he so wishes.”

“Yummy isn’t he?”

“So what’s the problem, you’re obviously
attracted to him?  I’m old enough probably to be his grandmother and I was
thinking of jumping him.”

“Attraction is not the problem.  I thought he
was something he’s not.”

“OK that makes no sense, you’re going to have
to elaborate a bit more than that.  Tea?”

“I would love a cup thank you.”  So we head off
to the kitchen together and in my humble experience a cup of tea can fix anything.

“You know my love for Shakespeare, well, I had
thought Malcolm shared that with me.  I had assumed him choosing to act in
Othello
meant he must live and breathe Shakespeare as much as me.  I mean he actually
gets to speak Shakespeare’s words for his profession, how much better can it
get?  Turns out though it’s just a job to him and he dreams of starring in some
action film.”

“Hang on, I thought you said you were meeting
someone called Ryan today?”

“Yes that is what I thought too but his actual
name is Malcolm, Ryan is his stage name.  The name Malcolm is not sexy enough
apparently.”  I roll my eyes.

“So now you are completely confused about the
man you fantasized about - Ryan - and the man you actually had the date with,
Malcolm right?”

“Spot on, yes Malcolm is lovely, but he’s not
Ryan.  I thought I was dating Romeo but ended up somehow with Malvolio.”  I’m
not even making sense to myself anymore.  Angela looks at me confused. 
“Malvolio from
Twelfth Night
, Malcolm was wearing an item of clothing that
reminded me of a particular scene.  During the play, Malvolio goes to Olivia,
you see he believes she is in love with him.  Malvolio is the Steward in
Olivia’s household.”  I add.  “He goes to Olivia wearing yellow stockings and
gross garters thinking that is what she wants but it is all in fact a trick being
played on him.  Olivia actually detests the colour yellow and cross garters and
is not in love with him at all.”  Angela looks at me as if I am crazy, not the
first time someone has looked at me this way.

“Yellow?  What was Malcolm wearing that was
yellow?  I think I would have noticed if he was wearing stockings.”  She pauses
blushing.  “Oh!”  There we go she has remembered the one piece of clothing he
was wearing.

“Yes exactly.”  We both giggle.  Angela nods as
if she understands.

“Jane do you base a lot of decisions based on
scenes from Shakespeare plays?”

“Yes.”  I say quickly without really thinking. 
“I mean no, I don’t mean to, but I suppose it sometimes plays out that way. 
There are just so many things that happen to me that remind me of a plot or a
character.”  The problem is that no one in real life can even remotely live up
to the characters.  I was so stupid thinking that there was someone out there
that could match up to Romeo.

“I don’t think decisions on men based on their
choice of underwear should be included within that though dear.”

“Yes maybe you are right.”  I smile.

“So is there any hope for our action hero?”

“Malcolm?  I don’t know.  I don’t think so.  I
need to think.”  I know what Angela has said about not badging Malcolm but all
I can think of now when I think of him is the egotistical Malvolio in his
canary coloured stockings.  Not quite the Shakespearean hero I was hoping for.

If I spend the rest of the day on my own I will
just fixate on these events trying to make sense of my thoughts and I just want
to enjoy the rest of my birthday.

“I don’t suppose you would like to go out for
dinner with me tonight, to say thanks for the lasagne last night. My treat?”  I
ask Angela.

“Sorry dear, every year on Midsummer Night I try
to see a performance of
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
, it’s my favourite
Shakespeare play.  Now and then they do outdoor performances - it is dependent
upon the weather of course - but being such a sunny day the play is going
ahead.  So I will just be grabbing something quick to eat tonight.”  My mouth
drops open and I look at her in shock.

“I know you are surprised but I appreciate
Shakespeare too dear, I wouldn’t have chosen to buy this place if I didn’t.”

“Sorry, yes of course, well that sounds just lovely,
I hope you had a nice evening.”  A strange expression crosses her face and then
she smiles.

“Why don’t you join me?  I’m sure I can rustle
you up a ticket?”

“Really?  I would absolutely love that do you
really think you could get me a ticket?”  I say excited.

“Yes of course, no one should spend their birthday
alone.  Come down to the kitchen at seven for something quick to eat and then
we will walk round together.”

“Thank you so much Angela, I can’t wait.”

Feeling like I need to wash events of today off
I decide I need a shower before going out tonight.  My eyes squeezed shut I
stand letting the water run over my face trying to process exactly what
happened today.  Having my eyes closed also helps me in trying not to notice
the mould embedded into the silicon around the edge of the old bath.   

Malcolm is a very nice man but martial arts
really?  Could I really start a relationship with a man that I do not really
have anything in common with?  Well nothing that I have in common that I know
of so far.  As Juliet said ‘
What's in a name? That
which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.’
 
Maybe I could just use
him for his body.  I have never been with anyone who affects me so much
physically.  I know deep down though that is not me and Malcolm is far too nice
to do that to.  Hopefully a solution will come to me before ten tomorrow
morning.  I know already I cannot tell him that I thought he was Cassio, Romeo,
Lysander all rolled in to one sexy body he will think I’m nuts.  I think I‘m
nuts.

Looking at my clothes I realise I should have
asked Angela if I needed to dress up for tonight.  Playing it safe I decide to
put back on my black trousers and pair it with a tight black vest thinking
being outside I can then put my blazer on over the top.  I had thought about
trying to get one more wear out of Vic’s blue dress, but being not sure if we
would be sitting on the ground, I decide trousers are the safest bet.

Realising I haven’t checked in with Vic all day
I decide to give her a quick call, but it goes straight through to answerphone
- she must be otherwise engaged with Oliver.

“Hey Vic only me, thanks for your message this
morning.  Just to summarise my birthday so far; I nearly capsized a rowing
boat, had a hot man pretty much naked in my bed and now I am off out for the
evening with the lady who runs the Bed and Breakfast.  Speak later, love you.” 
There that should give her quite a lot to think about.

I get down to kitchen at ten minutes to seven
relieved to find Angela standing cooking wearing black leggings and another
floaty, this time purple, tunic top.

“Oh hi Jane, come in, come in, take a seat.”

“Thanks can I give you a hand with anything?”

“No I’ve just done something quick and easy
tonight I hope that’s OK?  Jacket potato and salad?”

“Sounds great thanks.”  I spot the knives and
forks on the kitchen top so I pick them up and put them out on to the kitchen
table.

“Sorry we are going to have to eat this pretty
sharpish, we don’t get allotted seats or anything so the earlier we get there
the better spot we will get.”

“Me eating food quickly is not a problem.” I
say laughing.  “Do we take a blanket to sit on?”  I shovel in a large piece of
baked potato and then quickly have a gulp of water as the potato is far too
hot.

“Some do but I seize up if I sit on the ground
for too long so I always take a fold up chair.”  She points to a couple of
chairs folded against the door to the garden.  “I got one from the shed for you
too.”

“Thank you and thank you for dinner again it’s
lovely.”  I start to feel really excited about going out with Angela tonight. 
“You look great by the way Angela that colour really suits you.”

“I thought it time to start wearing some colour
and I had these couple tops buried in the back of my wardrobe that I hadn’t even
ever worn.  Didn’t know if they were a bit too vibrant?”

“No strong colours look great on you.”

“Well I’m still trying to figure out what to do
about this place but you were right I need to start making little changes to
make me feel better.  I can’t spend the rest of my life trying to force myself
to make good a dream that just doesn’t work for me anymore.”  The words do not
match her expression though, she looks like she could cry.

“I know this must be a very hard decision for
you Angela, there is no need to rush it.  Take it one day at a time.”

“To be honest I think the decision will be
taken out of my hands soon.  I’m barely covering the bills on this place and we
are at the height of the holiday season.  By the winter all the money will be
gone and I will have no other choice than to sell.”  I wish there was something
I could do or say to help.  She shakes her head and says, “right enough of all this
self-pity for tonight we are going to enjoy the last of your birthday and go
find some fairy magic.  I never get to go out so this is a rare treat for me to
have a night off from cleaning and this place.”  She waves her hand and smiles
but the smile does not reach her eyes.

Plates empty we pile them in to the sink and I
promise to come to the kitchen when we get back from the play to do the washing
up.  I grab the two fold up chairs and Angela retrieves a small cooler bag that
I hadn’t spotted.  She spots me looking at the bag.

“Just a few little goodies for us.”  She says
with a wink.

The hotel is only a ten-minute walk from the
Bed and Breakfast.  The grounds are not very big and I think they probably will
have room for no more than forty people to watch the performance.  I can see
now why Angela has said to get here early.  Already there are about ten couples
setting up picnic blankets close to where the actors will perform.  We decide
on a spot slightly to the right next to a bed of rose bushes.  The colours
range from soft pale pink right through to fuchsia. 

I open Angela’s chair and then position mine
right next to the flowers.  Once seated Angela starts to empty the contents of
her cool bag.  Out comes a cooled bottle of
rosé,
three plastic cups and a box of chocolates.

“I approve, this all looks perfect, thank you.”

“You have to thank Helen for the bottle of wine,
this is the one she picked up for me.”

“I’m glad I bought a bottle of red so I do not
have to drink that awful stuff,” a man says sounding ill-tempered.

Enter Ben.

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