O' for the love of Shakespeare (15 page)

The food is amazing and within moments I am
readjusting the line of my jeans as the top starts to dig in to my ever
increasing stomach.  Once I have finished eating I stretch back in my chair
trying to make more room for the food. 

“That was fantastic Angela thank you so much.” 
Everyone else grunts in agreement as they all continue to eat.

“You are very welcome; it is so lovely to have people
here for dinner.”  Angela looks around the table smiling at everyone.  Then she
turns to me.  “I have to say Jane I will be sad in particular to see you go
tomorrow, it has been lovely to have some female company around the place.”

“I will be sad to go too.  I’ve had a great
time here.  I’ll keep in touch though and maybe I could come visit?  Soon?  I so
want to see you happy.”  I look around the room hoping that Angela makes the
right choice and sells.

“I’ll keep you updated on umm developments.” 
Angela says quietly to me as if reading my thoughts.

“Good please do, you deserve so much more.”  I
say honestly.

Ben grunts loudly and turns to ask Chris about
how long their journey will take to get home tomorrow.  Looks as though things
haven’t changed all that much.  Strangely it feels comforting that Ben can
still be insufferable. 

Once everyone has finished dinner I help Angela
clear away everything from the dining room.  Angela gets out a stack of small
plates and I retrieve the cheesecake from the fridge.

“Ready?” 

“Ready.”  Angela hold the door open for me as I
walk through with the large dessert.

“Wow.”  Helen stares at the cheesecake.  “That
looks like the most perfect cheesecake I have ever seen.”  Everyone else
murmurs their approval and even Ben seems impressed.

Angela acts as mum and slices the cheesecake up
giving each of us a very large portion.    It is creamy with a crunchy biscuit
base.  I have never had a cheesecake so good.  Every bite that I put in my
mouth I close my eyes to savour the taste.   I must go back to the shop
tomorrow morning before I leave to get some more bits to take home.

I’m suddenly aware that Angela and Helen are walking
away from the table and I look up in panic that I am being left on my own with
the boys. 

“You stay there Jane you’ve done enough to help
today, Helen is going to help me tidy up the kitchen.  Relax for a minute.  Why
don’t you pour Jane another glass of wine Ben?”  The three of us sit in silence
for a few moments. 

“I’ll just pop these last few bits out to them.” 
Chris stands smirking and picks up a few stray serving spoons and the remaining
wedge of cheesecake.  Leaving Ben and I alone.

Act IV Scene II

‘There is nothing
either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.’  Hamlet

I look over at Ben who is sitting watching me. 
Meeting his gaze for a brief moment, I quickly look away.  I feel him move into
Angela’s chair so he is sat next to me.  I look longingly at the kitchen door
hoping someone - anyone - will come back but I strongly get the impression that
I have been set up.

“So.” Ben turns fractionally in his chair to
face me.  From the corner of my eye I see him drag his fingers across his jaw
rubbing his short beard.  His beard makes me think of Beatrice from
Much Ado
About Nothing
when she says ‘He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and
he that hath no beard is less than a man; and he that is more than a youth is
not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him.' 

Stopping my trail of thought I say, “it has
been so nice of your mum doing this dinner for all of us.”

“Yes and you seem to show a great interest in
my mum.”  Well his spite definitely hasn’t disappeared. 

“I think she is remarkable.”  I say honestly.  Ben
rolls his eyes and shuffles in his chair.  This is clearly not what he wants to
talk about.

“I have been thinking about what you said last
night at the play.”  He stretches out placing one arm on the back of my chair.

“What was that?”  I say shortly but Ben ignores
my tone and continues.

“You said watching the play outside allowed you
to feel as though you were part of the dream, part of the scenery.  That is
what you meant right?  That is how I have always felt too when I have been to
see the outdoor performances.”

“You liked it?”  I say doubtfully.  He doesn’t
seem the type to enjoy the theatre and I remember him saying he wished he
hadn’t bothered going that night when he found me sat with is mum.  Although I
did notice that he did laugh a great deal during the performance.

“Don’t look so surprised I moved to Stratford-upon-Avon
before mum even bought this place.  I love the theatre Jane.  Have you seen
anything else while you’ve been here?”

“Just
Othello
.”  I try not to think
about Malcolm on stage as Cassio.

“Is that what you prefer?  The Tragedies?”

“No not particularly.  I love all of them; the Comedies,
the Tragedies, the Histories they are all masterpieces, they all display every
possible emotion.”  I look at him straight on keeping eye contact.  If I am not
mistaken, he looks at me as if he is impressed.

“Yes that is very true.  He captures what it is
to be human in the most extraordinary way.”  I am aware that I am sat with my
mouth open in surprise, I snap it shut quickly before hopefully Ben realises. 
“I mean love for example, in his plays we see every possible degree of the
emotion.  In
Romeo and Juliet
, it is all youthful lust and impatience. 
You can hear the hormones raging in the words.  In
The Taming of the Shrew
there are the adult sexual innuendos in the banter between Katherine and
Petruchio.  And don’t get me started on his Sonnets.”  I open and close my
mouth several times trying to think of something to say.  He tilts his head
slightly waiting for my response.  His fingers graze the top of my arm – I
think – by accident. 

“I couldn’t have put it better myself.  I fell
in love with the language of Shakespeare at University, the beauty of it.”  I’m
suddenly feeling very self-conscious.  Ben stares at me his eyes scanning my
face.  “Maybe I should go check on the others.”

“Do you really want to go?”  His voice has
become deep and seductive.  “Because I don’t think you do?”  His eyes darken
and despite myself I feel excited being close to him.  But this is madness.  I
don’t even like him.

“Yes I can’t leave everyone to do everything in
the kitchen, I should go help.”  The words come out fast and panicked. 

“When do you get to do what you want to do
Jane?  When are you going to be brave enough to take the action you are so
scared to make?  When are you going to start to live?”  Why are men so suddenly
worried about the choices that I am making.  I don’t need a man to make choices
for me.  Shakespeare, I suppose, is the only exception.

“I am happy with my choices thank you very much,
I chose to come here because I love Shakespeare.  I think I am brave for coming
here on my own, even if you don’t.  I have never done anything like this
before.  I like to look after people - that does not make me a wallflower.  Have
you been speaking to Malcom or something?  Do I seem like someone who has their
life on hold?”  The little voice in my head is annoyingly screaming ‘YES!’  I’m
on my feet, Ben looks up at me perplexed.

“Malcolm?”  He looks at me confused, then
shakes his head.  “Jane look I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick
that’s not what I mean just that I think I understand what you want…”

I interrupt him, holding my hands up to stop
him.  “Never mind.”  I walk from the room in search of the others.  I find them
all sat around the kitchen table drinking tea and coffee.  They all turn to
look at me surprised. 

“Right.”  And as quickly as I entered the
kitchen I turn and storm out.  

“Wait Jane.”  I hear Angela call after me but I
don’t stop.  I walk pass Ben who stands as I come back in the room as if he expects
me to run back to him.  He reaches out to me.  Head down I plough on and run up
the stairs to my room.  I pace the room annoyed at all the people downstairs
and at where I am in my life.  My big speech of being brave, I know, amounts to
nothing here now I am alone.

I mean what am I doing?  I hate my job.  I come
home of an evening to an empty, silent flat.  I have two picture frames in my
flat, what does that say about my life?  Apart from Vic, I don’t have anyone
significant in my life.  Vic is getting married soon, so I won’t even really have
her soon.  If I disappeared tomorrow would anyone actually even notice?  I very
much doubt it.  My mum and dad might notice in a couple of months that I
haven’t turned up for dinner on Sunday but that would be about it.  I can’t
even imagine they would spot that I haven’t returned to work.  I have clung to
Shakespeare, lived in the world of his plays rather than choosing a life of my
own.  It was the safer option.  How did I get here?

If I ask myself what has happened of any real
importance in my life and I mean in reality not just the scenes I play out in
my head, I get a very quick answer of - nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  I was
born end of story.  I read about greatness but never achieve it.

If the world is a stage then in my life, play,
whatever you want to call it, I am a mere walk on background character.  I do
not even have my own lines.  Other heroines instead fill my story; Juliet, Lady
Macbeth, Titania, Beatrice to name but a few of Shakespeare’s wonder women.  To
be witty, beautiful, adored by men.  Just to be the heroine of your own play, I
wonder what that feels like.

There is a soft knock on my door.

“Come in.”  I say out of politeness not really
wanting to see anyone.  Angela slowly steps into the room.

“What did he do?”

“What, Ben?”  She nods watching me carefully. 
“He didn’t do anything, well he pissed me off a bit, but no he didn’t really do
anything.”  I fall back onto one of the beds, focusing on the map of cracks
above me on the ceiling.  “How did I get here Angela?”

“I don’t know what you mean sweetheart?”

“I’m mid-thirties, miserable in my job, staying
in a run down, sorry,” I briefly look up at Angela, “Bed and Breakfast on my
own, with absolutely nothing to show for my life.”  I rake my fingers through
my hair in exasperation.  “Surely I should have felt some emotions by now, not
just read about them.”  I feel the bed dip slightly next to my legs as Angela
comes to sit next to me.

“I don’t know about that, or anything really
about your life, but I do know that life goes by in a blink.  All we can do is
find a little bit of happiness and grasp on to it for dear life.  Life is to be
lived Jane not to be read about.  You won’t find your own hopes and dreams at
the end of any of Shakespeare’s plays.”  I sit up so that I am looking at her. 
She is right I know.  I have to live my own life.

“But where do I go from here?”

“Just focus on something and go for it.  I don’t
think I have ever met a young lady so passionate and kind.  You can do amazing
things Jane, if you choose to do them.”  She reaches to my face and tenderly
tucks my hair behind my ear. 

I thought I would be so happy on this trip,
that seeing Shakespeare’s birthplace would somehow help me realise all my
dreams.  That being immersed in Shakespeare would be everything to me.  All it
has done though is to heighten my realisation of how disappointed I am with my
life.  I have nothing but the words on a page.

“Hey you OK?”  Angela looks at me, concern
etched on her face.

“No.”  I look at her for a few moments.  “But I
will be.”  I force a smile.

“I know you will.”  Her face brightens like the
warmth of the sun has just hit her.  “Please come back down, it’s not a party without
you.”

“OK give me a minute and I’ll be down.”

“Promise?”

“Yes I promise.” 

“Good because I know that son of mine will be disappointed
if you do not.  I’m sure he feels terrible thinking that he has upset you.  He
likes you, I think.”  I raise an eyebrow and look at her.  “I know he comes
over a little arrogant and offensive but he is a good man, I promise.  Well.” 
She taps my knee with her hand and stands.  “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Yep won’t be long.”  Angela leaves the room
closing the door behind her.

I throw myself back on the bed again.  Were
Helen and Chris telling the truth when they said that Ben liked me?  They
didn’t know I was listening and why would they lie anyway?  It’s just too
weird, but then he was different towards me and he looked at me like he was
mentally undressing me when we were alone in the courtyard.  Ben is very
attractive and surprisingly complex, I contemplate. 

A new relationship with a man I have argued
with more than spoken to is probably not the answer.  Getting involved with Ben
would just be a diversion nothing more.  I try to put him from my mind,
resolving to abstain from the temptation. 

I’m a mess, my life is a mess.  I need to fix
me before I bring anyone else in to my chaotic, insane world.  I don’t know
where to go to next but I have finally realised that it is only I that can make
that decision, so I better make it a good one.

Slowly I stand up from the bed and position
myself in front of the mirror.  My face is blotchy, my hair is a catastrophe
and there are small creases spreading out across my shirt.  Not breaking eye
contact with the sad figure in the mirror I remove my shirt and using my
fingers I tidy my hair as best as possible.  I grab a long sleeved black top
from the drawer.  Great I look like a modern
Woman in Black
.  I still
look mussed up but not being able to do anything about my pale blotchy face I give
up.  Sadly, I leave the room to re-join the others.

“Jane?”  I hear the musical notes of Helen
calling me from the living room as I step off the bottom step.  From the sound
of chatting they’ve all moved from the dining room to the sitting room.  When I
walk in to the room I give everyone a weak smile.   Helen and Chris are
snuggled closely on the sofa, with Angela sitting looking uncomfortable next to
them.  Ben is sat on the only other seat in the room, the large armchair.

“Erm I’ll go grab one of the dining room
chairs.”  I say quietly.

“No honestly Jane, please take this seat.”  Ben
quickly jumps from the seat.  He watches me closely and if I am not mistaken,
he looks concerned.

“Um thanks.”  I quickly walk and take a seat. 
Small pink rosebuds cover the fabric.  It is probably the most girly furniture
I have ever seen.  I cannot imagine that Angela ever picked it.  It doesn’t
seem her style.  Expecting Ben to leave to go get a dining room chair I am
surprise when he instead sits on the floor by my legs and leans back against
the armchair.  He stretches his long legs out in front of him.  I can feel the
heat from his shoulder against my leg, he smells like fresh linen.

“Oh sorry Jane do you mind passing me my glass
of wine?  It is just behind you on the window ledge.”  He turns to look up at
me, a smile only ever so slightly touching his lips.  Matching Ben’s movement,
I twist to take the large crystal wine glass.  I’m aware that as I extend, my
top rises exposing my stomach.  Moving as quickly and as carefully as I can so
not to spill the red wine, I twist back so that my top returns to its proper
place.  As I look back to Ben, his eyes are fixed on the place where my skin
would just have been exposed.  Realising that I have caught him ogling he takes
the glass and gives me a quick cheeky smile.  I can’t help but smile a little
looking at the back of his head.  Who would have thought Ben perving on me?  No
Jane don’t go there.

“Sorry Jane can I get you a glass?”  I look up
and Angela is already standing.  She is smirking a little and I get the
impression she has been watching us.