She finally found the room in which the class was being held, after navigating what seemed to be a never-ending network of corridors and passages, taking bites of her sandwich as she went. She was beginning to regret the garlic mayonnaise filling she had opted for – pausing to check her breath quickly she winced – and hoped there wouldn’t be any love scenes, or indeed anything that would require her to stand within three feet of anyone else. She dumped the rest of the sandwich in a bin, quickly checked her appearance in a compact mirror and was pleased to see the rather reconstituted chicken hadn’t managed to lodge itself between her teeth, took a deep breath and walked into the room.
It was smaller and stuffier than she had been expecting, with fraying orange carpets and grey windows which looked like they had been hermetically sealed lest heaven forbid any air should get in. There was a small fan whirring in a desultory fashion on a desk in one corner. The other desks had been pushed to the corner of the room and there were about a dozen chairs arranged in a semi-circle in front of a small white board. She assumed the small area in front of the chairs was supposed to be the acting area. She was unimpressed.
Her feelings were apparently evident to the other occupants of the room. Kate noticed a lady standing at the far side of the white board, regarding her with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile.
“Not exactly the Donmar, is it, but I do hope you will feel able to stay with us!”
Kate blushed and, not wanting to cause offence, began muttering an apology.
“Don’t worry, no offence taken. The college has clearly decided to spend their frankly pitiable drama budget on getting the best staff rather than the best carpets – of which I am hopefully a prime example. Hilary Barnet. How do you do – apart from clearly needing some work on your entrances?”
The woman extended her hand after delivering this speech. Perplexed, Kate just about managed to introduce herself with Anna’s name and slunk to a seat while the woman consulted a clipboard.
“Ah yes, Ms Roberts. You were in the indomitable Gregory’s class last year, weren’t you?”
Kate nodded her assent. If this woman said she had been taught by an indomitable person called Gregory and had recorded these facts in her efficient-looking clipboard, who was Kate to argue?
“Yes, well, I shall expect a lot from you then. I didn’t see you in action, but you’re the only one in the class that got moved up to the intermediate level. I imagine you were expecting to be in the studio like last year?” Kate nodded, happy to agree to the easy feed of questions. “Well, don’t worry, this is only temporary – my schedule says we’re moving to the studio in week three after they’ve finished a two-week short course in there. Who knows, perhaps by then you will have learned how to speak in sentences!” smirked the woman, before turning back round to the white board. Kate gasped. She couldn’t believe how rude this woman was being. She saw a couple of the students whispering to each other behind their hands and shooting her covert glances. Kate was beginning to wonder whether she had just stepped into an alternate universe where rudeness amongst adults was acceptable, or else some kind of time warp which had taken her back into school again but by mistake had put her in the life of someone who had done badly and had been bullied.
She was considering leaving while she could, when a man in the chair next to her leaned towards her and whispered “Don’t worry. She’s actually not that bad. I reckon it’s just with each academic year she gets further and further away from the stage so has to create a grand role for herself in the classroom.” He smiled, brown eyes twinkling humorously. Kate laughed, appreciating the man’s attempt to put her at her ease.
“I’m Ben, by the way,” he continued, extending a hand. Kate could smell a musky kind of aftershave as she leant in to take his hand. Realising this meant he could probably also smell her eau de garlic, she made the handshake a fleeting one, though long enough to notice the soft robustness of his hands.
“Hi, Ben. I’m K- Anna.”
“I know,” he countered, winking.
Kate blushed. It was a long time since she had been winked at. Her dad used to wink at her when she was little, but since then she had found that it usually just meant a best-avoided guy was making a lame attempt to reel in a possible conquest. Neil may well have winked at her when they first met; it was the sort of thing he would do. The wink of this Ben individual was more of a friendly wink, though, she decided, showing her that he would be an ally in the class, rather than someone to be cold-shouldered for having lecherous intent. Besides, if he wanted to flirt, there were less attractive people than him, she acknowledged to herself.
Before Kate had time to respond, the tutor had turned back to the class. She stood in the centre of the semi-circle, and allowed her gaze to fall on each of the students in turn.
“Welcome! As you will know, I am Hilary Barnet and I am your tutor for the course. As you should have seen from your course guides, we are going to be focusing on characterisation. With the course only lasting one term we’re slightly limited, I’m afraid. The first few weeks will be about improvisation, working out the moods and expression you can bring in character to particular scenarios.”
That sounded great, thought Kate, smiling. She noticed Ben smiling too and they exchanged a brief glance. Kate returned her attention to Hilary.
“Then we’ll do some brief textual analysis and work towards a semi-staged performance of a couple of scenes so you can apply what you’ve learnt and you can perform to your adoring fans, or rather whatever long-suffering friends and family and possibly a dog you are able to round up.”
“I might bring a cat,” whispered Ben. Kate giggled, eliciting a stern glare from Hilary. Kate looked at the floor while Hilary continued.
“It will be quite a journey that we go on together in the coming weeks – a mental and spiritual one, and in some cases, physical, as you explore all that you can give of yourself to a character.”
There was a giggle at the word “physical” from the two girls who had been whispering earlier, and again they shot glances in Kate’s direction. They seemed to have an inexplicable fascination with her. Maybe it was just ‘new girl’ syndrome. Another glare from Hilary silenced them.
“Right. Let’s get down to it. There are a few familiar faces here, and some people I don’t know so well. I know some of you know each other – or may already have taken the bold step of initiating social intercourse” (giggles again from the two girls) “but as befits a first class today we are going to do introduction exercises.”
Kate relaxed. She needn’t have worried about that Viola speech then, she thought, wiping her hands against her jeans, conscious that her palms had been sweating since she had been in the room. She shot a covert glance at Ben. A friend had told her that everyone, in a relationship or not, did a subconscious ‘Would I or wouldn’t I?’ test when they met a member of the opposite sex to assess if they would sleep with them, if it came to it, so why not get it over with, consciously? Shaggy chestnut hair, slight stubble covering a strong jaw, well-defined eyebrows that showed perhaps the slightest signs of plucking to avoid the dreaded monobrow –
“Right, everyone!” shouted Hilary, clapping her hands. “Let’s get started. You two, work together,” said Hilary, gesturing to Kate and Ben, “and we’ll see what we come up with!”
Damn. She’d missed the instructions. Still, it couldn’t be that difficult.
“Why don’t you go first?” said Kate, turning to Ben. He began to speak, his lips plump and full, Kate saw, but a bit on the dry side. As if on cue, Ben moistened his lips. Kate jerked back slightly, hoping she hadn’t been caught in her assessment. Now she felt like the sleazy one – Ben may have winked at her, but she had almost been mentally undressing him.
“So, you got that?” he queried,