The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1290 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

In a form of retaliation to Sister Maria, I agreed to do it the following Friday. I hoped it would make it hard work for her to get things ready, but she just nodded and wrote it in her diary. I would come in as the afternoon classes began and take the group until end of school. I would have a teacher and teaching assistant to help me.

On the way out I asked Trish why she’d shown the press cutting to Sister Maria, her reply made me feel cross and proud of her. She was proud that her mum had done something to be proud of, and she was proud of me.

I was cross that she should take things to school without my knowledge but proud of her for being proud of me. I’d got the distinct impression she wasn’t too proud of her birth mother. I didn’t tell her I was cross as I got the feeling she’d worked that out for herself and she apologised profusely. I made it clear to all the girls; that they took nothing of anyone else’s to school without asking the owner first. They seemed to get the message.

The next few days went past at a rapid pace. I visited Stella to find that Gareth had been to see her and they were still friends, although she hadn’t agreed to the engagement being reinstated until she felt better and left her prison. I didn’t want her jumping off the roof of the hospital again, so I agreed with everything she said. I’d taken Puddin’ with me and this time she stayed awake and seemed to accept that her mummy couldn’t come home just yet. She’s a lovely kid and is talking a bit. Much of what she says I don’t understand because I don’t have the phrase book, but I can appreciate ‘Annie Affie’ well enough.

She babbled much of the way home and we also listened to the CD she had of nursery songs. If I’d heard, Old McDonald had a farm, once more I think I might have had to book in with Stella.

I swapped Puddin for my baby and fed her, cleaned her and sat drinking a cup of tea while she kicked and rolled about on the changing mat while her bum aired. Her rash had healed nicely with the cream and egg whites–it sounds like a recipe but it wasn’t. On one day I used the nappy cream and on the next I used beaten egg white which you paint on with cotton wool and leave to dry, it protects the skin like an extra layer.

Once she was sorted and my tea drunk, I started on dinner–for a change, I did braised steak with mushrooms, a savoury rice and garden peas. Naturally, I make my own savoury rice, using Basmati and various herbs and spices depending on what I’m cooking with it, and I fry it for a few moments before adding the water and slow boiling it.

It was a Thursday and I was doing my talk tomorrow. I managed to find some of the Macbeth lines on the internet and printed off a dozen copies–I didn’t think there’d be more than a dozen girls. Some of the lines came back to me but most were faded in the mists of time. I also took some of my original scripts and director’s schedule for the Dormouse film.

It was late by the time I got to bed and I fell into bed and slept like a corpse. Trish had to wake me up the next day as the Today programme was being incorporated into my dream. I just managed to get them to school in time, before dashing home still wearing my pyjamas under my jeans and sweatshirt.

During the morning, apart from the essentials of feeding babies and myself, I re read my notes and my teaching notes. I had a schedule and a set of aims and objectives, one of which was not to get caught again by the persuasive Sister Maria.

I dressed smart casual, ate a light lunch put my notes and laptop into the bag and also the DVD I’d managed to get of Roman Polanski’d 1971 version of the film. I wondered how the girls would react to his naked sleepwalking scene for Lady Macbeth–was glad that didn’t occur in the play I did, the review would have been quite a bit different.

I arrived at the school as the children were returning for registration and whatever they did then. I took myself to the school secretary expecting her to show me which room we were using, instead she took me to the headmistress.

“Ah, Lady Cameron, so punctual, do follow me–I’ve put you in the hall.”

I was tempted to ask why, then thought if it turns into a workshop, the space might be useful. I followed along, knowing where it was as I’d spoken there two or three times. I walked into the hall and was met by a round of applause. The whole bloody sixth form was there, about fifty girls. So much for keeping it intimate–I was rewriting my lesson plan as I walked across the room.

I requested a digital projector and while it was being set up, I set up my own stuff, laptop and notes. I noticed that everyone had a copy of the play and one or two were holding copies of my book–the spin off from my film–I suspected they were here for signing.

The headmistress calmed everything down and introduced me. “Girls, you all know Lady Cameron, as a talented speaker, film maker and teacher. However, while in school she also played the part of Lady Macbeth, so she has actual experience of playing the part. As you know we’ll be auditioning for the part next week, so listen to what she says about it and about the play in general, it’s a tragedy but full of wonderful symbolism and multilayered plots. Lady Cameron is also going to talk a little about making her film, for those who are interested in that as a career–and as you may already know, she wrote, directed and presented it and co-produced it with her cameraman. So I think she knows quite a bit about making a documentary film. I give you, Lady Catherine Cameron.” There was another round of applause then to my horror she went and sat in with the girls. “I might learn something,” she joked as she took her seat.

I took the floor, “Thank you, headmistress, as always it’s a pleasure to come here and talk with your students. I’d like you all to pick up your chairs and come a little closer, form a sort of horseshoe.” I got them arranged with sufficient space if we did any actual role plays and so they could all see the film if I ran it. I think the sleepwalking scene is now definitely off.

“As Sister Maria said, I’ve had the dubious privilege of playing the lead female role in the Scottish play. It’s one of the best female roles in all of Shakespeare and there are all sorts of complexities within it. There are also all sorts of analyses of who did what–some films have suggested that Lady M not her husband, actually kills King Duncan, although this doesn’t happen in the play.

“But before we get into all that, let’s have a quick look at making a film...”

I led them through the process and they asked me some intelligent questions including one on costing and sponsorship. I tried to answer them as best I could. We had a short break, I was brought a cuppa and fifteen minutes later we returned to the Tragedy of Macbeth. I pointed out a few bits and pieces of the actual history, that Macbeth had been an honest and just king, who’d been misrepresented by Shakespeare as possibly Richard III had as well.

I had one or two of them–volunteers of course–to do one or two of the speeches then showed them how Polanski had done it on film. Then I was asked to show them how I’d done the sleepwalking scene. I didn’t take my clothes off.

I paced up and down scrubbing at my hands, ‘Out, damned spot! Out, I say! One: two: why then ’tis time to do’t. Hell is murky! Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?’

I tried to speak in a light Scottish lilt, although what the accents were like in the tenth or eleventh century who knows. They liked it and I got a standing ovation–they were such an easy crowd to please.

The bell rang for the end of the day and the headmistress once again took control. “Well, ladies, I don’t know about you but I think that was a brilliant afternoon with a wonderful teacher–I’ve learned loads about making films and doing Shakespeare, and I know who to ask if we can’t fill the lead female role.” The audience cheered at this and I blushed redder than a Wales rugby jersey. “Thank you so much for your erudition and entertainment. Ladies if you please, show your appreciation in the usual way.” They clapped and cheered and the secretary emerged with a huge bouquet of flowers, which the headmistress handed to me. “Thank you so much for your time and skill, I hope we might call upon you again one day to do another workshop. My original intention was to let a dozen or so girls come and work with you–I faced a mutiny, they all wanted to come, it’s easy to see why. Thank you so much.” She clapped and they all did so again.

They were such an appreciative audience that I knew the next time she trapped me, I’d surrender without a fight, because it was a delight to do, or would be if I had more time. Talking of which, I have to collect four girls who’ll be unimpressed if I keep them waiting.