Ravenswood clapped his hands and interrupted them. ‘I want you to break up and rehearse scenes in groups,’ he announced. ‘Macbeth and Lady Macbeth here. Duncan, Banquo, McDuff and the other boys at the front. Witches down at the back.’
The other cast members picked up their chairs and bags, and created smaller clusters around the drama room. But Violet hadn’t finished with Rowan yet.
Violet continued. ‘You'll have to learn Hecate and the Gentlewoman and all of Lady Macbeth as well. Same thing happened to me last year when we were doing Grease.’ She pressed her hand flat against her solar plexus. ‘Mrs Tulloch didn't allow scripts on stage, so I had to learn both Frenchy and Sandy. It was hard, but I'm sure you’ll be fine.’
‘Yes,’ Rowan murmured to herself and rubbed her eyes.
Violet tried not to smile. She could smell Rowan's doubt. ‘Of course, nothing will happen to Angelika. But you know, just in case.’
‘You're right,’ Rowan said, her voice fading away to nothing. She stumbled to her feet and staggered into the centre of the room.
Violet squinted as she watched Rowan swaying. Was she drunk?
Rowan beckoned to Ravenswood. He followed her to a seat away from everyone else. They huddled together and worry lines spread across Ravenswood's face as Rowan spoke.
Violet smirked. Rowan must be pulling out of the production right now. Step one now complete.
Violet sauntered over to Lila and Holly at the back of the room, their three chairs positioned in a triangle. ‘My favourite line is ‘infected be the air whereon they ride,’ she said, dropping into an empty chair, and lacing her fingers behind her neck.
‘Infected?’ Lila screwed up her face. ‘Gross.’
‘But it gives me an idea.’ Violet leaned forward, her elbows resting on her black stockings.
‘We should get back to rehearsing,’ said Holly. She jerked her head towards Ravenswood who had left Rowan and was now deep in an argument with Wayne and Jason about the right way to pronounce ‘harbingers’.
‘We haven't got much time left today. And it'll be Friday before we know it.’
‘Infection,’ Violet said, locking eyes first with Lila and then Holly. ‘Wouldn't it be tragic if Angelika got sick? Someone would have to step in and take over.’
‘That's Rowan's job,’ Lila said.
‘Maybe.’ Violet raised her eyebrows.
‘Did Ravenswood change his mind? Did you talk to Mrs Petrakis?’ Lila's eyes widened like headlights.
‘People get sick all the time. It's just one of those things,’ Violet said.
‘Where are you going with this?’ Holly squinted. ‘You're not planning something dumb, are you?’
‘Me?’ Violet pressed her hand against her heart.
‘You can't make someone sick.’ Lila's eyes darted between Holly and Violet, her face crumpling. ‘Can you?’
‘No one would ever know. It's the perfect way to make Angelika miss the performance.’ Violet smiled.
‘Are you saying...?’ Lila's jaw dropped. ‘Hurt her? That's not cool.’
‘Wait a second,’ Holly said, tightly folding her arms. ‘I know you want this badly but—’
‘People have accidents all the time’ Violet shrugged. ‘Something small. Just enough to get her out of the way for a few days.’
‘Are you serious?’ Holly screwed up her face.
‘What?’
‘You can't do something like that.’ Lila lowered her voice.
‘Don't you think I should be Lady Macbeth?’
‘Of course,’ Lila said, cowered.
Lila and Holly frowned back at Violet.
‘Listen. It's obvious there's some kind of conspiracy. They're trying to force me out of the production. They're jealous. All of them. They don't want to be upstaged by me. Especially in front of Alan Wolf. But I'll show them.’
‘I don't think there's a conspiracy,’ said Holly said slowly. ‘When did you get to bed last night?’
‘What's that got to do with it?’ Violet snapped.
‘Maybe you need a lie down?’
‘Don't be stupid,’ Violet said with a dismissive flick of her wrist.
‘It could be low blood sugar,’ Lila said as she rifled inside her canvas bag. ‘My mum goes all woozy if she doesn’t eat.’ Lila rifled around in her canvas bag. ‘I've got some Strawberries and Cream here somewhere.’
‘I'm better than all of them.’ Violet sneered. ‘In fact, I should be playing Macbeth. Is this a dagger I see before me? If Ravenswood had any real guts, if he really wanted to do something truly different, he'd cast women in men's roles. He thinks he's so intellectual, but he's so suburban it makes me sick. I should be directing this production. I should take over the whole thing.’
Holly and Lila glanced at each other. Violet's cheeks burned, her head span with a million colliding ideas, fighting their way out of her mouth.
Violet squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. ‘But your little curse has given me an idea.’
‘It's not my curse,’ Lila said vehemently.
‘We could haunt her.’ Violet grinned.
‘That reminds me,’ Holly said. ‘Last night I had this weird dream—’
‘You shouldn't tell other people about your nightmares.’ Lila grabbed Holly's arm.
‘Since when?’
‘Mrs Khang over the fence told me,’ Lila said. ‘It passes on the evil.’
‘That could work.’ Violet nodded and rubbed her chin. ‘We could freak her out and she’d quit all on her own. What do you think she's scared of?’
‘Mice.’ Lila shuddered. ‘All those scurrying little feet.’
‘You're scared of your own shadow,’ Violet laughed.
‘Shadows,’ Holly mumbled.
‘Would Dahlia help us?’ Violet asked. ‘What time does The Three Torches close?’
‘You don't want to play around with that stuff,’ Holly said. ‘It's not straightforward. You shouldn’t mess with things you don't understand.’
Lila widened her eyes. ‘Like the bus driver said.’
Violet snorted. ‘Of all people, Holly. You've always sworn you never believed in that witchy stuff.’
‘I don’t.’ Holly stared at her shoes. ‘I just...’
‘We could be proper witches,’ Violet said. ‘It'd be method acting. It’s for the good of the play.’
‘You're talking about hurting people. Dahlia only does white magic.’
‘Whatever. We don't need her. Maybe we should just hide in Angelika's wardrobe. Jump out and scare her.’
‘She doesn’t look like she’d scare easily,’ Lila said, and all three girls turned to the front of the room where Angelika stood like a regal marble statue. Violet scowled.
‘Or I could put a few laxatives in a cake,’ Violet snickered. ‘Or better yet, rat poison.’
‘Rat poison? Are you nuts?’ Holly recoiled.
‘Only a little bit.’ Violet pinched her fingers, her eyes shining. ‘It'll be fun.’
‘Whoa.’ Holly held her hands up. ‘This is crazy. You're going to kill her over a part in a play?’
‘Stop being so melodramatic.’ Violet flicked her hair. ‘I'm not going to kill anyone. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything in front of you. You couldn't possibly understand.’
‘It's a play. It's not the war in Bosnia,’ Holly argued. ‘Listen to me. You need to get a grip.’
‘You never supported me,’ Violet hissed.
‘I've always been here for you but—’
‘Liar.’ Violet clenched her fists, itching to slap Holly across the face.
‘Please don't fight,’ Lila whimpered.
‘It's hard, I know, but Violet, you have to face up to reality,’ Holly said. ‘Life isn't fair. You weren't picked. It happens. But there's always next time.’
‘You never wanted me to get this part.’ Violet's heartbeat thumped in her ears. The pain was back, hammering a hole deep into her skull. ‘You're jealous, too. Like all the other
s.’
‘Please stop.’ Lila held out her hands to separate them.
‘Get out of here,’ Violet said. ‘Lila and I don't need you and your lies any more. Go back to your new best friend over there.’
‘Stop!’ Lila squealed and leaped up from her seat, covering her face with her hands. She knocked over a chair as she sprinted out the door.
‘Lila?’ Holly got to her feet. ‘Look what you've done. Lila?’
The rest of the cast hushed, dropped their scripts and turned to watch.
‘Scrag fight!’ Wayne and Jason cackled.
‘How dare you!’ Violet jumped up, yelling after them across the drama room. But she was left standing alone at the back of the room.
‘What are you looking at?’ With her hands jammed into her hips, Violet turned and glared at the smirking faces of the cast one by one.
Ravenswood clapped his hands. ‘It's four o'clock, so let's call it a day. You've all worked very hard. I'll see you back here tomorrow at nine sharp. Go home, take a break and then learn your lines.’
‘Traitors.’ Violet muttered as she rubbed her right eye with the heel of her hand. She bent down and packed her bag slowly. No one understood.
Lila's script lay abandoned on the floor next to her bag. The white pages were splattered with three drops of blood.
***
LILA
Last Night
Dressed in only a thin nightie, Lila stood shivering in the hallway. The wood-panelled walls were bathed a wine-coloured light. The winter wind slithered through every crack in her weatherboard house, its icy teeth gnawing at her bare legs and shoulders. Why was she here?
She shivered but for a different reason. Her pulse slowed as every cell of her body tensed. Her gut urged her to run.
Thump.
She tried to move, but her legs were like concrete stumps. She pulled at her heels, but the soles were firmly stuck to the floor.
Thump.
The red light dimmed.
Thump.
The footsteps drew nearer. Ever so slowly.
Thump.
The hallway darkened. In the blackness, the front door creaked open.
Thump.
Her heart boomed inside her chest. She bent down and tugged at her ankles, and finally she released one foot.
Thump.
She took a step through the viscous air, battling against an unseen force. But as she gritted her teeth and dragged herself towards the safety of her bedroom door, the thumping picked up speed.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
She pictured claws, teeth, flashing eyes. Devil. Demon. Maniac. Inhuman. Evil incarnate.
Thump.
She screamed but her voice was like a drowning gargle. She groped at the wood-panelled wall. Splinters stabbed under her fingernails. She propelled herself forward, inch by excruciating inch, as the thumps grew louder and, closer.
'Help,' she croaked.
She knew it was useless. It was always useless. No one could hear. No one would come.
Thump.
She stretched out and touched the safe metal of her bedroom door handle, and thrust the door open.
Thump.
Scrambling inside, she slammed the door behind her and fastened the lock.
Thump.
She jumped onto her bed and, hiding under the covers, waiting and shaking.
Thump.
The footsteps stopped, right outside the door. The handle rattled, but the door stayed closed. She gulped. Her breath locked tight in her chest. Blood thumping in her ears.
Then came the sound of metal on metal, as the lock jangled. She wanted to cry but it was pointless.
The lock clicked open. She woke with a start as her bedroom door creaked open. She pushed her head deeper into the pillows, feigning sleep, her lip trembling. The door opened slowly and tentative footsteps entered the room.
A tear dropped onto her pillow.
The door closed softly and the lock clicked again.
‘I know you're awake,’ he whispered.
Lila stifled a sob.
Chapter 5
RAVENSWOOD
Ravenswood smirked as he watched his cast scramble for the exit. One good thing about teenagers, you didn't need to tell them twice that class was over. The room rustled with high fives and air kisses, shuffling papers and zippers on bags and coats. Within seconds, cigarettes, lighters and bus passes were at the ready.
‘Angelika,’ Ravenswood called out over the ruckus. ‘Can you stay back for a moment?’
After a brief eye roll, Angelika composed herself and smiled calmly, relaxing back into her plastic chair. Violet huffed under her breath, the last to stomp out of the room, but Ravenswood ignored her.
The drama room settled into silence and outside the daylight was fading, Ravenswood watched through the large classroom windows as a thin fog trickled between the gum trees.
Ravenswood chewed his lip. Should he have asked Lionel to stay back? Meeting with a female student alone could be a bad idea. He didn't need a scandal in his first year of teaching. But Lionel didn't need the extra coaching. He wished he had a full cast of Lionels.
To be safe, he propped the classroom door wide open. Angelika watched him through heavy lashes. Her beauty was unquestionable but distant and stirred nothing inside him. She was his Trojan horse, the way to restore his reputation.
He turned a chair and straddled it to face her. She glanced at him curiously and he adjusted his scarf, her blue eyes seemed to belong to an older face. He felt their roles were reversed, as though she was the experienced teacher and he the student. But their age gap couldn't be more than six years.
‘You wanted to see me?’ she said, as though he was inconveniencing her.
He swallowed and leaned forward, reminding himself who was the adult. ‘You did well today.’
‘Thank you.’ She met his gaze directly, but respectfully.
‘However...’
She blinked, her face clouding for a split second.
‘Lady Macbeth is a difficult and demanding role,’ he said. ‘You were good but...’
Angelika’s eyes went cold.
‘I want you to be great.’
What was life like with a face like hers, Ravenswood wondered. Did the whole world drop effortlessly into her lap? When the curtain rose on Friday night, every eye would be on her, but this was nothing new for Angelika, she was born with a spotlight on her face.
With a little gentle steering, she'd shine. No one would believe she did it alone; such was the curse of a pretty face. And he, her director, would emerge as the true star.
‘Lionel is a commanding presence on the stage.’
‘He’s brilliant.’ Angelika nodded.
‘But you have the potential to be just as good. Better even.’
Angelika scrutinised him. ‘Do you think?’
‘Are you serious about acting, Angelika?’
She nodded half-heartedly.
‘Would you like some advice? Can I talk frankly?’
She smoothed the hair from her face.
‘There are a million beautiful girls in the world but to make a career, you need to stand out, be more than your face. You need to bring something new to the role, something fresh to the stage.’
‘But Macbeth's been done for hundreds of years,’ she replied.
‘Ah. But not by you.’
Angelika folded her arms.
‘This is your first time on stage as Lady Macbeth. What can you bring to the role that no one else can? A unique perspective? Enrich Lady Macbeth with your life experience, your thoughts, your feelings. Who is Angelika Ostholz's Lady Macbeth?’
Ravenswood watched Angelica's eyes darting back and forth as his words sunk in.
‘Start with Lady Macbeth. Who is she underneath? What is the face she doesn't show the world?’
Angelika narrowed her eyes. ‘She's frail. Is that what you mean?’
‘Is she? Do you
think she's weak?’
‘She's lost a child and she's still grieving. She's replaced her dead child with her husband and put all her energy into him.’
He pressed his fingers to his lips and nodded. ‘But think about the world around her, the historical context. A woman can never be King, no matter how clever or ambitious she is. Her husband is the only way she can get the power she craves.’
Angelika leaned forward with her head tilted.
Ravenswood suppressed a smile. The kindling was lit.
‘Some people play her as tragic like you suggested, and others as the puppet master behind Macbeth. But I think you—’
A groan drifted into the room. Breathy and quiet at first, it crept in from the silent corridor. Ravenswood jerked, his heart knocking inside his shirt. He bit down on his lip as the unnatural noise swelled and strengthened.
‘No,’ Ravenswood muttered, cupping his hands over his ears. ‘I don't hear you. I don't hear you.’
The moan became a shudder. The air throbbed all around them and built to a crescendo like a passing train. Ravenswood gripped the plastic chair as the beige ceiling tiles rattled above their heads.
‘Mr Ravenswood?’ Angelika said as she clutched at her throat.
Ravenswood stared wide-eyed at the open doorway. He watched the dark and waited for something to appear. But after a few seconds, the howl died away and the room and the corridor were quiet.
Ravenswood exhaled shakily. ‘Pipes. Yes, of course. They must be fiddling with the heating.’
‘But it sounded like a person,’ Angelika insisted, pointing to the dark corridor. ‘And then it didn't—’
‘It's an old building.’ Ravenswood swallowed hard and fiddled with his scarf, but his heart continued to thump hard under his shirt. ‘Back to what I was saying...’
‘Macbeth is her pawn?’ Angelika said with a squint.
‘Yes. But no. Is there more to Lady Macbeth? Look closely at Act 1. Read what she actually says. Read very closely.’
Angelika traced her bottom lip with her finger.
‘Think about it tonight. I'll look forward to seeing new depths to your portrayal of Lady Macbeth tomorrow.’
‘Thanks for the pointers.’ Angelika stood up, clutching her script to her chest.
The Flower and the Serpent Page 6