He turns
and holds up his watch
. ‘I have somewhere I need to be.’
‘Okay,
’ I venture.
‘It’s ...’ He waves his hands around. ‘
I hope this evening was helpful.’
He turns his back.
‘Will you help me again
?’ I ask, feeling like an idiot. Dazed by his kiss. A silly pupil with a crush on her teacher.
‘I don’t think you need any more help
,’ he says, walking away, and my stomach begins to churn.
‘What?’ I feel sick. ‘What do you mean?’ Is it my acting? Have I let him down? Or can he sense tha
t I have a crush
on him?
He still has his back to me, but he stops walking. He sighs, and I see his musc
ular shoulders move under his
shirt. ‘
Perhaps one-on-
one tuition like this ... it isn’t
a
very
healthy dynamic.’
‘I don’t understand,
’ I say, aware there’s a slight pleading tone to my voice. ‘Have I done something
wrong?
If I ha
ve, I’m sorry. Tell me and I won’t do it again
...’
He turns around then, and his eyes burn into
me.
‘But
maybe I will.
’
H
e strides
down the aisle, and out of the theatre.
Chapter 25
I sit on the stage, dumbfounded. I don’t understand what’s just gone on, but the sick feeli
ng in my stomach makes me think
I’ve
just done something very stupid
.
H
e
will do
what
?
What does that mean?
I know what I’d like to t
hink he’d like to do
, but
h
e’s a beautiful, intense, famous Hollywood actor, and I’m a twenty-something unknown from a small village.
Suddenly, I’m on my feet, running down the aisle and out of the theatre.
I see Marc walking across a trimmed lawn, the flutterin
g of cigarette smoke floating
from his hand.
I run up to him.
W
hen he sees
m
e,
a sad look creep
s
into his eyes.
‘I want to talk to y
ou,’ I say
.
‘I don’t know what just happened back the
re. But ... I’m sorry. Tell me what I did.
’
I don’t want to cry, but I can feel the tears welling up.
In a nearby tree, a few birds take flight.
Marc looks even sadder. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. ‘
You didn’t do anything
. I just ... I think I’ve taught you enough, now. I’ll see you at your next performance.’
‘But I haven’t learned nearly enough,’ I say. ‘Didn’t you see how much I improved, with just half hour of you teaching me?
But I’m not there yet.
There’s so much inside I want to bring out. I need you to help me -’
Marc shakes his head. ‘It’s not a good idea.’
‘Why not?’
‘Don’t you get it Sophia? Don’t you understand? Do I have to spell it out?’
I nod
, confused.
‘
Back there
,’ he says,
‘
I might have ... I could have ... I’m usually so in control. But just then ...
it
isn’t healthy for me to be around
you
like that
.
N
o
t one-on-
one
.
’
I twiddle my hair. ‘What do you mean?
’ My stomach is lurching all over the place. ‘I think ... I don’t want to guess at what you’re saying.’
‘I’m saying,’ says Marc, his voice practically growling
, ‘that if I’m around you like that again, thing
s might happen that cross the student teacher line. Am I making myself clear?’
The sickly feeling rises to my chest. So that’s it. He knows I have a crush on him, and he thinks I might compromis
e his status
.
‘Look,’ I say, ‘I promise I’ll be profession
al at all times. Yes –
I
was
attr
acted to you
just now
. I admit it. Probably
half the girls on this course are attrac
ted to you.
But I understand what you’re saying. I’ll make sure I
draw a firm line when I’m performing with you. Nothing that might compromise anything. Nothing that might put you in a bad light. I’m sorry – I was just feeling the part. I took things too far.
’
‘
Just you saying those wo
rds ... God,
this
is so wrong.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘
I’m not used to this,
’
says
Marc
. ‘I
’m always in control. One hundred percent.
And
with you
just then
...’ He runs his hand through his hair again
, and looks away
.
I swallow hard, and can barely squeeze out the next words. ‘
That kiss just then – I was trying to act. Trying to do what you wanted. I wasn’t trying to cross the line. And I won’t. I can keep my feelings for you locked up. No one will ever know. And if it’s true that you
... I don’t know, if there’s something about me that may compromise your position as a lecturer,
but
you can’t punish me for that.
I’ve been selected to be on this course.
There are times when I’ll need one-on-one tuition.
’
Marc’s jaw clenches and unclenches. ‘You’re right. Why should you suffer? I’ll get someone else
to teach the course. I’ll step aside
for this year, and find someone else to teach you
.’
I stare at him. ‘You can’t do that. Yo
u’re the
reason most of the pupils here
are on this course.
They auditioned because of you. You’re their hero. Their star. They want you to teach them. No one else.
’
Marc looks at me, and there’s a long pause. ‘This situation ...
if I remain a lecturer here this year,
i
t could become
unbearable. For both of us.’
‘For both of us?’
‘Yes.’
I look at my trainers
, and see the wet grass has stamped damp patterns onto the cloth.
‘Why
?’ I hear myself say.
Marc moves his face cl
oser to mine, and I see anger in his eyes. ‘Because I can’t have you. And
wanting something you can
’t have can
be a very difficult thing to handle. Especially if you’re used to getting whatever you want and whoever you want.’
‘You ... you want to
have
me?’ I ask, utterly confused now.
‘Are you
trying to make this more difficult than it already is
?’ Marc says
. ‘You know full well
I
can’t
have you.’ He takes a deep breath and lets
it all out. ‘I’m your teacher. And you’
re my pupil.
’
I feel like his stare
bu
rning holes in me
.
‘I didn’t know you wanted to have me,’ I stammer, trying to get my head around that sentence. ‘I thought ... it was
only
me, wanting you.’
‘It doesn’t matter what you feel for me
,’ says Marc, his voice stormy. ‘
I’d be
taking advantage of my position. You’re young
er than me
. Vulnerable. And I’m supposedly mature.
And if anyone found out, your reputation could be ... compromised. The press would hound you.
’
I stand there, my mouth opening and closing. ‘I ... don’t know what to say.’
‘
This can’t happen again
,’ says Marc. ‘
Not with you.
You deserve better.
God, if you knew what I was in to ...
don’t you read the papers?
Lectures aside, I’ll keep away from you. And I suggest you keep away from me.
’
He strides away
across the grass, and although every bit of me wants to run after him, I know it’s a bad idea.
I think about what he meant by ‘what I’m in to.’ Did he mean those pictures I saw in the
newspaper? I don’t know how I feel about that at all. Frightened. Excited. And way out of my depth. Not that any of those feelings matter, because Marc has just told me nothing can ever happen between us.
I turn and walk the other way, towards the accommodation block.
Chapter 26
After a restless night, I wake early
, shower, and go for a walk around the college grounds. It’s beautiful in the early morning, with the birds chirruping, and squirrels scurrying over the damp grass. I find myself, as I knew I would, heading towards the woodlands and walking between the trees.
One giant fir tree catches my eye, and I grab a branch and swi
ng myself up into its furry leaves
. Then I climb a few branches higher and
look around. I can see the red-
brick buildings, and enough green and brown leaves to make my heart feel full and happy.
A few metres away, I see ivy growing over the woodland floor. It snakes around and up a young oak tree, whose leaves are turning too brown and yellow, even for this time of year.
I jump down and
go to the tree, pulling ivy from
the trunk so the tree has a fighting chance of survival. I’m careful not to hurt the ivy too much, and pull it around and along the earthy ground, so it can grow in a healthier, better way that doesn’t hurt the oak.
‘Not keen on ivy?’
I hear a gravelly voice and smell cigarette smoke. My heart begins to pound. I turn and see Marc
Blackwell
standing behind me.
‘I thought you were keeping away from me,’ I say.
‘And you from me,’ Marc says.
‘I never agreed to that,’ I say, dusting my hands together to brush off loose soil.
Marc inhales from his cigarette. ‘I take this walk every morning. Except on the first day of term, when I saw one of the pupils in the wood already. And I thought it best to let her have the run of the place on her first day.’
‘That was kind of you,’ I say. ‘And I am keen on ivy.’ I stand up. ‘It’s one of my favourite plants. But it was hurting this tree. So I was retraining it. Setting it on the right path.’
Marc’s eyebrow raises. ‘
Setting it on the right path?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘So it doesn’t hurt things.’ Having him so close to me
again feels strange right now. I
t’s like we’re laced together and someone is pulling the strings tight.
‘
I never knew you were interested in plants.’
‘I love them. I kept my Dad’s garden back home. I plan to grow some things on my balcony too. I don’t feel right if I’m not around nature. I love these grounds so much.’
Marc blows out smoke. ‘I’d best be going.’
‘Wait!’ I call after him.
He stops.
‘We have a lecture soon,’ I say. ‘I mean ... are we just going to ignore ea
ch other? Is that what you want?
’
‘That’s what I was p
lanning,’ says Marc
. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be hurtful or cruel. I’m dealing with things the best I can. I’ll see you later on.’
‘Okay,’ I say, watching him walk away. ‘Later on.’
Marc’s lecture that morning is about stage presence. How some people are born with it, but also how it can be cultivated. How we can practise to achieve it. It’s interesting, but my hands are too shaky to make notes. I spend the whole class watching Marc, waiting for something, anything, to show that I didn’t just dream what he said yesterday. That there is something about me that interests him, even if nothing can come of it.
Marc barely glances at me. He doesn’t even look at me as he passes me a handout. He asks questions throughout the class, and although I’m often the first to raise my hand, he never once picks me for the answer.
At the end of class, all the other pupils filter out
,
but I stay behind. I can see some of the pupils giving me odd looks and nudging each other.