The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1622 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Julie, can you look after Catherine for a couple of hours this afternoon?”

“I s’pose so, why?”

“I need to go out.”

“Where?”

“Why does that matter?” I challenged and felt even more guilty than I did before.”

“It doesn’t but usually you say where you’re goin’, that’s all.”

“Sister Maria invited me to something at the school.”

“I thought you avoided that place like the plague ’cos they always catch you for somethin’.”

“I’ll just have to take that risk won’t I?”

“So what’s next, Othello or ’Amlet?”

“What d’you mean?”

“Well, you got lumbered for talks or doin’ their plays for ’em, so woss next?”

“I have no intention of doing another play for them, my thespian days are over.”

“Goin’ ’etero now are we?”

“Going what?”

“You said your lesbian days were over–never ’ad you down as one of them,” she was smirking so I knew she was trying to wind me up.

“I said thespian, meaning relating to the stage, comes from some ancient Greek or other. Thespians are actors.”

“Oh, I musta misheard you,” she smirked.

I shook my head and left her to clean up the dirty dishes while I went to change. I decided I go smart casual, jeans–okay, DK jeans with a CK top, my ankle boots and leather jacket. I hadn’t worn it since I’d helped recover Julie from the Isle of Wight. It had been cleaned but thankfully she didn’t see me wearing it so there were no flashbacks. I had suggested she go and see her bio-parents but she always had an excuse for not being able to. I even offered to pay for her to go by the hovercraft but she declined.

They sent her a birthday card and a cheque, although she didn’t say how much it was for. While hanging stuff in her wardrobe, I discovered she’d ripped the cheque in half–it was for five hundred pounds. Perhaps she saw it as them trying to buy her, but she could have taken the money and run–or is she beginning to develop some sense of morality. I know when she first came to me, she’d have taken the money then. Unfortunately, I couldn’t raise the point because she’d accuse me of snooping–I hadn’t been but she wouldn’t believe me. Oh well, such is life.

I pulled on my Burberry scarf–I know, too much information–and went to the school. I hadn’t expected to see hordes of women there plus the press, presumably waiting to see Matt, he was a definite A-lister. There was also a couple of police on the gate stopping people entering. I beeped my horn at the crowd and some got out the way some swore at me. Eventually a copper came to see what was going on and I told them I’d been invited by the headmistress to the afternoon workshop.

“And who are you then, madam?” he asked me.

“I’m Cathy Cameron, Matthew and I did Macbeth here a few months back.”

“Did you now, so how come we don’t ’ave you on the official list of those who might attend?”

“Sister Maria only invited me this morning and I had to alter my schedule to come–I’ve got three girls here so will have to collect them anyway.”

“Hold on,” he said and he went to consult with his colleague. He returned, “Are you Lady Cameron–the dormouse lady?”

“That’s me.”

“Well you’re not on the list but you have a reputation for causing trouble, so you’d better go through.”

“Causing trouble? I don’t you know.”

“That isn’t what they say down the nick.”

“Probably an exaggeration, I’ve have had run ins with some of your colleagues in the past, but we’re on good terms these days.”

His friend opened the gate and I was allowed in. I parked the car and walked into the school and to the headmistress’s office. She was with her guest apparently but the secretary took me to the hall–I knew the way quite well by now. I slipped in through the door and sat quietly on a chair at the back, neither Sister Maria or Matt saw me.

“So, ladies, I give you Mr Matthew Hines,” said Sister Maria and sat down behind him.

“Thank you, headmistress, well, ladies, the last time I was here I was asked to do Shakespeare–you know, some old git who died ’undreds of years ago, an’ ’oo I’d ’nothing to do with since school.

“I mean, I was an actor–did drama school and all that, but we didn’t do Shakespeare, it was all contemporary stuff. I was essentially a film actor–you know, action–roll ’em–cut, that sort of stuff and I got lumbered with doing Shakespeare and with some amateur drama group students. As I came here, I thought I’d made the biggest mistake of my life–in fact, I saw my career in ruins and I half contemplated crashing the car so I couldn’t keep my promise through injury.”

The audience gasped at this revelation. I sat there feeling surprised myself–I had similar feelings before we did it.

“I’d had a video sent me of a woman doing some acting class with you lot and she looked as if she had some idea of what she was doin’, so I came and met with her. I mean, I could always crash the car on the way back, couldn’t I?” The girls laughed at this statement.

“I met with my presumed leading lady, and she was only an amateur as well–I tell you, I nearly died.” So did I, wishing I’d stayed home, I felt a hot flush coming on and a drip of sweat ran down my back and there was me thinking I’d save his bacon, his reputation and the play and it wasn’t so–least not in his eyes. I felt very disappointed and if I’d been able to leave without him seeing me, I’d have gone, there and then. Stupid man.

“It seemed she’d done the play when she was in school, but her workshop showed me that she had something–she knew the part and something that blew me away was when we met in a restaurant–our first meeting, my wife was heavily pregnant and we were late, so I expect my guests thought I was a right twit–we’d got held up by an accident on the motorway, but hey, I was buying them dinner at an expensive restaurant, so they could wait a bit.

“Turned out I’d made a number of wrong assumptions. The waiter knew them, so I asked if they dined there often–turned out they owned the bloody place. Boy did I feel stupid.” The girls laughed politely at this. “Anyhow, we, the three of us, just me an’ my guests, my wife was feeling a bit under the weather, ordered and over dinner I discovered just who and what I was working with.

“When you’re still feeling a bit unsure of what someone can do and how it might reflect on you, you tend to be a bit defensive–in my case that meant acting like a bit of a twit. I almost dismissed her when I discovered she taught at a university and wasn’t a professional actor. I said so to her and she just bit my head off.” A nervous sort of gasp went round the audience of schoolgirls.

“But it was the way she did it that absolutely gobsmacked me. She replied in character–talking in a flawless Scottish accent and as if she was Queen Gruoch, who was the real wife of Macbeth. I was totally and utterly blown away, she scolded me like she was a mediaeval queen–and boy did I deserve it. Not only that, but she taught me quite a bit about acting on stage and presenting myself.

“I mean, like most actors, I’ve got an ego the size of California–she didn’t take any notice of it, she corrected my lines when we were rehearsing and my accent when I got pronunciations wrong–she was so much more the professional than I was, and yet, I knew the tickets would be sold because of me. Ironic innit? But it’s her you want to come and speak to you not me–anyhow, it’s me you’re stuck with.”

Sister Maria got up and spoke to him very quietly and he almost started, he went very red and began to scan the audience. I knew then my cover had been blown and I was about to make a run for it when he said loudly, “Ladies, I’d like to introduce my partner in crime, Lady Cathy Cameron–come on down the front, Cathy.” The girls all turned round and applauded. I blushed and went reluctantly to meet Matt and Sister Maria.

The sod got me to re-enact the scene from the play when he tells her he’s just killed Duncan. Somehow I remembered enough of the lines to do it. The girls were so kind with their applause.

Then we did a question and answer session which we stopped because the bell rang and we ran out of time and I had three little piggies to collect. So what did I think of Matthew Hines–a great deal more by the end of the afternoon than I did at the beginning. His ego might still be as large as it was, but I know he can be honest and acknowledge the contribution of others to his success. Yeah, he’s okay.