Mr Blackwell: Teacher Student Romance (7 page)

28

The morning after the night before.

I have so many of them I’ve lost count.

Full of shame. Regret. Recrimination.

But this morning is different. I feel excited for the first time in years.

As I sip coffee by the swimming pool, Sigourney stumbles out onto the patio.

‘You didn’t sleep next to me,’ she accuses. ‘What the fuck?’

‘I don’t do that,’ I say. ‘Relationships aren’t my thing.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ she says, mascara grey and gritty under her eyes, lips obscenely nude without makeup.

That night, Sigourney came back. And the next. She told me she’d never felt this way about anyone.

The sex got wilder and wilder. At times, she completely lost it. She barely even noticed that I didn’t come, and I was in no hurry to point it out.

After a particularly intense evening, when Sigourney had rubbed her wrists raw against the rope and screamed every swear word under the sun, she told me she thought I’d made her pregnant.

Somehow I managed not to laugh. Aside from the fact I hadn’t come inside her, I’d used a condom every time anyway. She’d just been too drunk and coked up to notice.

I realised then it was time to end things. I never liked seeing one girl for too long anyway – the longer we were together, the more attached they got.

I know that sounds cold. Inhuman almost. But it’s not like I didn’t care. I just didn’t love those girls. I couldn’t give them what they wanted, so it was best they found out sooner rather than later.

When I told Sigourney that I never came with her, she flew at me – clawing at my face.

I told her it was over and ordered her a car.

The press got a few pictures, and Sigourney phoned me the next day – telling me she’d tell the paparazzi everything unless I took her back.

I told her to go ahead. No one threatens me. It’s as simple as that.

I really thought she’d do it. I was braced for my career to be over. But instead, she got together with another actor – Leo Falkirk. America’s blond, blue-eyed hero. And she phoned me incessantly from his house, telling me how much she still loved me, and how could I let some other guy fuck her after what we’d had?

I felt sorry for Leo. I’d worked with him before and knew he was a good guy. Open. Likeable. The opposite of me. How Sigourney ended up with him, I’ll never know. But she could work magic on men when she wanted to. I saw it happen. She just couldn’t work magic on me.

In the bed, Sophia stirs.

Light and dark.

‘What are you thinking?’ Sophia asks, and I see that she’s watching me, her eyelids soft and half-closed.

‘Bad things.’ I stroke her hair. ‘Horrible things.’

‘Tell me.’

‘Go to sleep now.’

‘I was dreaming,’ Sophia murmurs. ‘About when we met. Do you remember?’

‘Of course I remember.’

29

Summer

Ivy College

When I First Met Sophia …

‘Sophia Rose.’

Her name is just a biro scrawl on an audition sheet. Nothing more. One more young actor I’ll have to watch trying too hard.

Denise and I are in the Ivy College audition room, having just sat through ten so-so performances.

‘This girl will be good,’ says Denise. ‘I watched her audition tape.’

‘They’re all good on the audition tapes,’ I say. ‘Then they see me in person and lose the ability to stand. Christ – how many more of these do I have to sit through?’

‘You’re the head of Ivy College,’ says Denise. ‘You have to audition the students – it wouldn’t be right not to.’

‘I own the college.’ I flex my fingers. ‘Which means I can do whatever I like.’

‘Come on Marc. You’ll be teaching these kids. You have to see their auditions.’ She pats my hand. ‘You’re a good boy really. Much as you try to hide it.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure.’

‘I would. Ah! This must be her.’

I hear soft footsteps outside.

‘No high heels?’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘This is a first. She must be tall.’

But the girl who walks into the audition room isn’t especially tall. She’s the most ordinary girl I’ve seen all day. And yet I can’t help staring at her.

Soft, wavy brown hair. A slim, willowy body. Jeans, t-shirt and Converse. Ordinary. But utterly exceptional.

Sophia returns my stare with large, brown eyes and I’m nearly knocked off my chair.

There’s an innocence and goodness to her that is captivating. Just captivating.

I feel my jaw tighten.

Sophia watches me, but not in the usual way women do. Her eyes aren’t large or flirtatious and she isn’t smiling suggestively. She looks … surprised. Like we’ve met before and she isn’t expecting to see me.

I introduce Denise and myself.

Sophia tells us her name.

She looks so vulnerable, all alone in the audition room.

Some crazy part of me wants to take her in my arms.

Christ, what is wrong with me?

Sophia tells us she will play Lady Macbeth.

‘Ah,’ I say. ‘The evil lady of Shakespeare.’

‘Oh no,’ Sophia says. ‘She’s not evil. No one is wholly evil. Even bad characters have light in them.’

I feel a flicker in my chest.

Light.

People so rarely talk back to me. And certainly never anyone I’ve auditioned for the college. I feel a swell of respect for this sweet, young actress.

Sophia does her audition – a beautiful rendition of Lady Macbeth. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen, as a matter of fact.

I am mesmerised. I don’t want her to leave.

At the grand age of twenty-seven, I thought I knew myself. But I don’t. Because I’ve never felt like this before.

When Sophia finishes her audition, I hear Denise clapping.

I don’t clap. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I am rooted to the spot.

I sense Sophia takes this as disapproval, and she heads towards the door, thanking us for our time.

‘Miss Rose,’ I bark.

Sophia’s hand falters on the door handle.

I want to tell her the audition was beautiful. That I’ve never seen so young a woman add such depth to a character. That her ability to show emotion is incredible. And …
and
…

‘Light and dark,’ I say. ‘Is that what you believe? The good in everybody?’

‘Yes,’ she says.

I grip my pen so tight I can feel my pulse racing.

‘Thank you for your performance,’ I say. ‘I enjoyed it very much.’

When Sophia leaves, there is emptiness. And I become me again. Dark. Empty. Alone. Exactly the way it should be.

30

‘You liked her, didn’t you?’ asks Denise.

I snap my eyes from the door, chasing away images of Sophia Rose surrounded by light.

‘She was … good. But they’re all good.’ I’m still gripping my pen. ‘When does the next one arrive?’

Denise gives me a knowing smile. ‘
Good
Marc Blackwell? Who are you fooling? Not me. She was exceptional and you know it.’

‘She’s too young to be exceptional.’

‘Oh stop it. You must have seen what I just saw in that girl. The openness. The vulnerability. That raw emotion. Quite outstanding.’

‘I already told you she was good.’

‘So she’s in?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Marc—’

‘She’s far too young, for one thing.’

‘It’s not about age. It’s about maturity. Which she had in spades. She reminded me of you, as a matter of fact. Old beyond her years. And Marc – if you only knew about her family. Her mother died when she was young. She’s had to care for her father and a young brother. She needs Ivy College more than anyone.’

‘That girl is never going to go hungry.’

‘Then why wouldn’t we want her?’

‘Because—’

But I can’t answer. There is no reason. Except for the emotions that exploded when she walked into the room. I can’t explain to Denise that this girl is someone I could lose control over.

Denise shakes her head. ‘I think you’re forgetting how hard the acting world can be,’ she says. ‘Sophia is very beautiful and talented. But it’s not enough. She has no connections. No theatre background. Nothing that could give her a leg up. Without us she could get lost in the crowd. You know what it’s like out there. All the girls with rich fathers get the parts.’

I close my eyes, feeling pain behind my forehead. When I open them again, the world is swimming with light.

Maybe squashed in with the rest of the class I won’t notice her. Or maybe she won’t even accept the place …

‘I’m still not convinced we’re the best university for her,’ I say. ‘You saw how she was dressed. This is London.’

‘
Marc
Blackwell! What has gotten into you today? Look, I don’t care what you say. I’m signing this girl up. She deserves this place and I’m not letting your bad mood take it away from her.’

‘It’s not your decision to make.’

Denise laughs. ‘I’m not one of your silly fans, Marc Blackwell. You can’t tell me what to do. She’s in and that’s final. Now I’m going to make you a nice cup of tea and you’re going to cheer up. Okay?’

Denise knows full well I could refuse if I wanted to. But Sophia Rose truly does deserve a chance. And me being fucked up shouldn’t take that away from her.

‘Fine,’ I tell Denise. ‘Okay. Sign her up.’

I’ll just have to control myself.

31

Control.

That’s exactly what I didn’t do – control myself.

Sophia is sleeping now. The moon throws silvery light on her face.

God, she is so amazing.

I put my cheek against her skin, breathing her in.

I have never known love like this.

I would die to protect her.

The hurts and mistakes of the past … that’s where they’ll stay. The past. There will never be anybody else.

Sophia is mine and I am hers.

I lay the duvet over Sophia’s sleeping body, wrapping her against the chill.

She moves in her sleep, and I feel myself smiling. To think what I was before I met her … I was barely alive. She woke me up. Changed me. Forever. And I never want to change back. I never want to be the man I was before Sophia came along.

I was so sure we could never be together. I thought wanting her was a torture I’d just have to endure. But in the end I couldn’t help myself.

After Sophia’s audition, I tried not to think of her. I knew she’d be joining the college, and that my self-control would be tested. I had no idea to what extent.

The first time I saw Sophia outside my classroom I almost couldn’t stand it. And then having to give her a one-on-one audition, alone in the theatre …

When we were together – with me tutoring her – I knew I was living on borrowed time. My control would only hold out for so long.

Outwardly, I held it together that day. But inside, my emotions were churning.

After Sophia’s one-on-one, the other students felt like an invasion. It was our theatre – mine and Sophia’s. Our special place.

After Sophia’s one-on-one, I did five hundred press-ups and took a freezing cold shower.

I loved her. I knew it, but I couldn’t let myself feel it. I had to shut myself down.

That evening, I had a quick dinner with Denise in London, and meant to go back to my townhouse. But I didn’t. I went back to Ivy College and sat outside the theatre.

Our theatre.

Thinking of her.

32

I sit on the bench by Queen’s Theatre, my elbows on my knees.

It’s late. Almost midnight.

The one-on-one sessions are long finished. All the students are asleep in their rooms, and I should be at home.

Why am I here?

There’s a very simple answer.

I want to feel close to her.

Sophia.

I can feel her here. See her. Remember her walking into the theatre this morning.

I frown.

She was a little nervous, not quite sure of her footing. But on stage she lost herself in the part.

How can one girl affect a man so much?

This isn’t supposed to be happening.

I can’t get Sophia out of my head. I think of her daily. Nightly. No matter how much I struggle to push her away.

I thought I could handle this. But I can’t.

Sophia is like an actual ray of light. I swear, the theatre lit up when she was in it.

Of course, I didn’t let on how I was feeling. I was the strict teacher. Firm but fair. Kind at times, and I didn’t go easy on her.

When she said,
‘Everyone has light in them’ …
it nearly broke me.

‘Not everyone,’ I told her.

But I was wrong. I do have light in me. Something about Sophia lights me right up. I’m more open around her. Vulnerable.

I hate being out of control. But I like feeling human. I haven’t felt human in a very long time.

For Sophia’s one-on-one, I chose
Call of the Night
– a risqué, adult play starring a seductive ballerina.

You could say I was trying to torture myself. Or test myself. Perhaps I was. But I do happen to be a good teacher. And I knew it was a good part for Sophia. Something that could help her grow. Take her to the next level.

At first, Sophia said, ‘I can’t do this.’ She was so certain it was too much for her. But I knew different.

I made her get on the stage.

Then I offered to play Jonathan – the older man whom Jennifer is seducing.

It was torture, but I had to do it. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair. I couldn’t treat her differently to any of the other students. It is my job to teach her to the best of my abilities.

Sophia played Jennifer well at first. She even adlibbed. And she was sexy – as the character should be. But then she lost it.

She lost it because of me. I knew then that she had feelings too. It was written all over her face.

I had to end the session immediately. I’ve never felt so out of control. I wanted to grab her. To kiss her. To own her, all of her. Make her submit to me and feel things she’d never felt before … things she had no idea she even liked …

God.

Closeness. It’s not something I’m used to.

I have to conquer this somehow. I have to take control back.