A Gift from The Bard

Emily

I step back from the board to judge how effective the book's marbling technique is; or rather, how good my attempt at using the technique is. Actually, the right-hand side, where I'd started to get the hang of it, is surprisingly effective. The question is whether it's going to be worth the effort; will the statues look much better?

I ought to clean up because I'm sure Suzie will be here soon so I pour brush cleaner into a paint-stained glass jar that looks like it's been used for the same purpose in the past. I splosh the brushes up and down, turning the clear liquid a milky-grey as the acrid smell of the cleaner stings my nose.

I'm drying the brushes on a rag when I hear Suzie's voice calling and my heart gives a happy skip. "In here!" I reply from the left-hand container. I turn to see her face peep round the door. She smiles at me before looking around.

"So, where are the statues?" she asks.

"They're in the other container. This is where they store the paint and I was working in here because of the rain earlier."

"Oh wow, is that the marble effect?" Suzie asks, reaching out towards the board.

"Don't!" I exclaim. "The paint's still wet. You think it looks okay?"

"Yeah, really good, actually; you're so clever." I feel a glow of pleasure at her praise. "Was it difficult?"

"Not too bad, once you get the trick of it," I tell her, trying to be modest. "It'll be harder on the statues, of course, because of their shapes."

"So do I get to see them or are they top secret?" she asks. I wonder if she'll notice when she sees Venus? Well, if she's going to then it's probably best when there are just the two of us.

"No, they're not secret. Come on." I lead the way to the other container and remove the padlock before pulling the locking bar. "Here, give me a hand: the doors are heavy and stiff, this one especially."

With the doors open the white of the statues stands out against the dim interior of the container. The plinths are still just bare wood, spattered and stained with the white of the plaster. The bow in Cupid's hand is wood and was made for me by Paul, one of the set crew. I intend to coat it in a layer of plaster to make it a bit more rounded and chunky as if carved from marble; I used the same method with the walking stick on my figure of the old man in the exhibition. The statues are looking good, even though they're not quite finished.

"They're getting close now," I tell Suzie, unable to keep the pride from my voice. She nods, stepping forward to inspect them. "Tom's been really helpful too," I add, not wanting to claim all the credit.

"What, as a model for Cupid," she laughs, pointing to the statue's dick. I know that I teased Tom in almost exactly the same way but somehow, from Suzie, it seems... I don't know, sort of wrong. Her casual acceptance that I might be sexually interested in Tom is a little surprising. No; if I'm honest, it's disappointing: I thought she might be at least a little bit jealous of Tom.

"No!" I snap back, more sharply than I should. "Tom was too shy to pose," I add, with a smile, trying to sound disappointed that Tom wouldn't strip. "The statue is a sort of amalgam of several classical statues."

She nods as she moves on to study Venus. Looking over the statue a suspicious, wary look appears but she says nothing. Perhaps I'm just imagining it. Finally, she looks at me. "Venus is certainly more... curvaceous than I expected." I nod, not sure what to say. "Is she an amalgam too or did you have a person in mind?"

"I was thinking of someone," I admit bashfully. I worry that my blushing face will incriminate me but Suze doesn't seem to notice.

"Did you ask Tati first?" Suzie's question so totally unexpected that it's just as well she keeps talking. "I mean I'm sure she'll be very flattered to be portrayed as the goddess of love but you might want to warn her, or at least let her see it, first." I can sort of see why Suzie has assumed that it's Tati, though the few times I've seen Tati she's been wearing loose-fitting, flowing clothes, so it's hard to know what her figure is like. I can only assume Suzie has seen her wearing more form-fitting clothes. However, I decide to go with the easy lie rather than admit to Suzie that it was actually her I had in mind.

"Oh, er, I hadn't thought of that. I obviously wasn't copying, er, Tati exactly," I reply. "I was just, you know, inspired by her figure and thought that a more womanly figure would make a better contrast with the Cupid statue." Looking at Venus and Suzie side by side I can see the statue's likeness to Suzie and it is a little disconcerting that I was able to reproduce her body's form so accurately just from memory. How can she not see herself in the statue? Perhaps, in her mind, she is still the chubby girl of our schooldays.

"The face isn't Tati's though," Suzie observes.

"Well, no. I mean, that could be a bit embarrassing so I sort of adapted the face of a real statue," I tell her honestly.

"Good point: Tati would feel like everyone knew what she looked like naked; not to mention the questions about whether she'd posed for you."

"That's what I thought. So, are we going for a drink?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Of course."

"Right, you can help me shut up both containers then."

At the pub we buy drinks -- a half pint of dry cider for Suzie and a vodka and coke for me -- and head out into what they laughably call the beer garden. In fact, it's a small patch of grass with half a dozen tables beside the pub and separated from the road by a low fence. Still, in the gentle and rather humid warmth of the early evening, it's nicer than being inside.

We chat about what we've been doing: how Suzie is getting on at the library while I tell her about the statues and making all the masks and how it means I'm working almost full time on the play. "Apart from the inevitable chores at home like cutting the grass or washing the car," I add, "though as Mum and Dad give me an allowance, I can't really complain." She nods.

"Emmy, are you happy?" she asks abruptly.

"Uh, well, yes, I guess," I reply to her unexpected question. "What about you?"

"Sort of, I suppose. I'm glad we're friends again. This evening at the hall and walking here felt a bit like the times we've spent together in the past, before..."

"Before I was horrible to you Suzie, I know," I admit sadly.

"Oh, Emmy, I'm not looking to blame you; you've done so much to make up for what happened. I've loved our letters over the past year and you've said sorry so often that I don't want any more guilt from you." She pauses, her mouth tight. "I should be completely happy that we're so much closer."

"What's the matter, Suzie?" I ask, taking her hand.

"No, it's just me. We're never going to go back to where we were. No, that's not what I mean; I guess we're both going to meet new people, have boyfriends and girlfriends and you'll go to Birmingham or Kent or whatever university next year... I guess life moves on."

"So, are you saying you and Beth...?" I leave the question hanging and she gives a sigh.

"No, just sort of friends so far; we get on well enough but, well, I have no idea if she's, you know, even a bit bisexual, let alone gay. The truth is that I don't exactly trust my intuition on this after... er..."

"Suzie, you know that was my fault: you had every reason to think that I fancied you." Perhaps I should tell her that I think am -- well, definitely probably am -- bisexual, at least a bit anyhow, but how would that help? I messed her around once and ended up hurting her; I won't do it again. I wonder if now is the time to admit that it's not Birmingham or Kent Universities for me, as I'd told her a few months ago, but that I've provisionally accepted a place at the University of Bath, a journey of just over half an hour away from Bristol by bus and much less by train.

"So how are you and Tom of the ginger beard getting on?" she asks before I can say any more. Never mind, I'll tell her in a couple of weeks when I get my final results.

"Oh, yes... we're friends, though we, er, we've been out a couple of times, actually."

"Sounds like a bit more than just friends. Is he your boyfriend?" Suzie asks, looking at me intently.

"Well, I suppose... I haven't really thought about him like that." This isn't quite true but the whole 'Is he my boyfriend? / Do I want to be his girlfriend? / Do I necessarily want a boyfriend at this point? / Is this just about sex?' debate is just too complicated to explain. "I mean, I should be going off to Uni in, well, just a few weeks really, so..." Suzie nods, saving me the difficulty of further words, fortunately.

"I understand, Emmy: you don't want to fall heavily for someone you can't be with for long." I know I shouldn't, but I can't help wondering if there's more than one meaning in that comment.

"Emily!" Tom's unexpected voice makes me jump and I look to see him standing just on the other side of the beer garden's hedge, a disconcerted smile on my face. "Oh, um, hi Suzie," he adds. "I've just finished work; can I join you?" I hesitate, unsure of whether to say yes or no.

"Of course, Tom," Suzie replies, looking towards him with a smile. He smiles back and turns to head for the pub's entrance.

"Oh, Suzie," I manage as she drains her glass, "we were going to chat, you wanted to talk."

"We have talked and we can talk some more another time; spend some time with the man who's very clearly interested in you." She picks up her bag, checking it's closed.

Perhaps she is being kind; wanting me to have a boyfriend, someone to be happy with. The thing is it feels like a rejection and that hurts, especially after our friendship seemed to be getting better again. Perhaps that's what she meant by we can't go back and that I've been foolish to think otherwise. I see Tom approaching behind Suzie. Maybe it's time to move forward.

"Hi," says Tom and I smile at him.

"Bye Emmy; bye Tom," Suzie says, the use of my pet name another little pang. "See you at Theatre on Sunday." And with that, she turns and leaves.

"Can I get you a drink?" Tom asks.

"Yes please, I'll have another vodka and coke." Yes, time to move forward.

Tatiana

The cast mill around and I can feel that they are starting to settle together as a group and are gaining confidence that the production will be a success. Nonetheless, I do hope young Emily-Rose hurries up with the fitting of the masks. I know she's right, wanting to make sure that all the actors can see and speak whilst wearing them, but they are only for one scene and there remains a great deal of rehearsing needed. Still, I do like her suggestion of making all the men animal masks and all the women birds; that should be most effective and I look forward to seeing the result.

She really is a very talented designer and artist, as the statues she insisted on showing me when I arrived attest. The fact that Venus has a figure like Suzie is perfect. My eyes seek out the young actor: she is chatting with Beth and Joe.

I've been worried that I came on too strongly to Suzie with the massage, for though she seemed receptive and compliant initially, there was a wariness afterwards that suggested I must be patient. However, her exams are all over now and she seems happy to be in the play so perhaps it is time to try again. I shall have to look for a pretext this afternoon.

I start to move, aiming to drift close enough to Suzie to eavesdrop on her. However, my plan is thwarted by the arrival of Nick Forrester and even before he opens his mouth I have a pretty good idea what he's going to say.

"Tati, I really must have a word about those statues young Emily has created. You know, I'm not a prude and the Venus statue is very well done, artistic even, but the Cupid... I mean the real statues were covered by a fig leaf, everyone knows that..."

"Actually, the fig leaves were an artefact of Victorian prudery, I think you'll find, and Emily-Rose has reproduced very accurately the style and nature of a classical statue." I know he means well but this is the third time he has raised this and it is becoming tiresome. I smile. "Did you know that the Romans considered a large penis the sign of a barbarian?" I ask. I remember my Classics professor, Julia Penrose, telling me that as she slipped an un-Romanly large dildo into me. Her education of me in the delights of Sapphic love was entirely extra-curricular and utterly wonderful. I focus again on Nick. "I am most impressed that Emily-Rose has been so diligent in her research." I am, I admit, deliberately trying to make him uncomfortable to get this over with and the slight reddening of his neck suggests I'm succeeding.

"Well, I... I can see your mind is settled on the matter. Just remember, if there are complaints, don't say I never warned you." I concede his point and at last, I can move on; my remembrance of times with Julia has done nothing to quell my desires for Suzie; quite the opposite.

Suzie is still talking with Beth and Joe, recounting something about working at the library. The way she keeps looking at Beth... yes, there's definitely an attraction there. However, unless Beth is very shy, that attraction is not reciprocated. Hmm, Beth's touch on Joe's arm and that coy look... I foresee disappointment and heartache for young Suzie. I shall speak to her at the end of rehearsal... something about the way she interacts with Joe, perhaps or, yes, how she plays the ending as she and Benedick marry, something I've mentioned to her before but we've never properly looked at. I clap my hands. "Right, ladies and gentlemen, tempus fugit so we must get started. Emily-Rose, if you have any more masks to fit, could you perhaps do so between scenes? Thank you."

Beth

I feel much happier and more confident after this afternoon's rehearsal: no fluffed lines, no tangled or mispronounced words and I even feel I'm starting to understand properly what's being said. I really should thank Suzie for all her help with, well, everything I suppose.

I look around and see she's been cornered by Tati. I feel a bit sorry for Suzie as Tati seemed to be making a lot of notes every time Suzie had a scene. I think Suzie noticed too because she seemed a little nervous when she's always been so confident before.

She glances away from Tati and her eyes meet mine with a worried look. Perhaps I should go over and rescue her... I don't know: Tati can be a bit scary at times and she might not like me interrupting. I ought to, though, because Suzie has helped me.

"Beth, you were really good today." It is Joe, adding being lovely to being handsome and fit. I don't know how Suzie manages to concentrate when she has to kiss him; I'd be a dribbling mess! God, he's sooo hot!

"Sorry, what did you say?" I ask as he stands there, obviously waiting for my answer to a question I didn't hear. See what I mean? He turns my brain to mush.

"I asked if you'd been studying hard to learn your part. You were, you know, really on form today."

"Oh, yeah, I have... and Suzie's been helping me understand the, er, the role," I tell him, too bashful to admit that without Suzie I'd understand practically none of it.

"You know, it's a shame you didn't get the part of Beatrice. Don't get me wrong, Suzie's clever and she can certainly act but, you know, Beatrice should be like the whole package: smart and sassy and passionate and beautiful."

"Suzie's pretty," I reply, feeling I should stand up for her after the help she's given me, "and clever and passionate."

"Well, she can, you know, act passionate but I don't think she really feels it."

"But she gets to kiss you!" I exclaim and then wish I hadn't. I shouldn't be acting like a dippy schoolgirl just because of his smile and the way he's looking at me... oh god!

"Well, she obviously doesn't think that kissing me is something to get excited about." He grins but I'm ready this time with a better answer.

"Perhaps it's not," I tease and my answer seems to please him.

"Hmm, perhaps I should ask Chris about your kissing?" he suggests.

"You could, but he's queer, so that might not be useful," I point out, making Joe laugh.

"True... but if a queer man thinks you're a good kisser you must be bloody fantastic!" He suddenly turns a little more serious. "I can't go to the pub now with everyone; it's my sister's birthday, you know. Can I, er, can I give you a call and we could meet up, maybe?" Holy shit: he wants my phone number!

"Er, sure," I reply, trying to act cool even as my heart races in my chest. "Have you a..." I don't bother finishing as he's offering me a pen and the inside cover of his script to write on. "Thanks," I say, jotting my number down. "Perhaps I should get your number."

"Don't worry, I'll call," he assures me. "Now, I must dash as I'm late: it's my sister's birthday and I need to buy her a decent bottle of wine." With that, he hurries away and I watch him leave, a little stunned by what just happened. I suddenly realize Suzie is standing beside me, looking distinctly unhappy. "Are you alright? Did Tati give you a really hard time?"

"What? Oh, yeah, a bit; she can be really picky and demanding. She wants to work on the ending so that Beatrice doesn't lose all her fire and passion and suddenly seem like she's become a little, subservient wife. Anyway, what did Joe want?" The abrupt question throws me a little.

"He, er, he was just chatting, telling me he thought I'd performed really well today. I think I did too but it's all down to you; thank you, Suzie," I tell her honestly and then give her a hug, which seems to make her happier. "Are you coming to the pub?"

"Yes, definitely." She glances across and I follow her gaze to see Tom and Emily together.

"They seem to be getting on very well, don't they?" I say.

"Yes, they do," Suzie replies simply.

Chapter 6: Plots and Plans

Tatiana

I sip the cold but weak gin and tonic, hoping the small amount of alcohol will calm me without dulling my wits. That I feel quite as nervous as I do is a surprise and leads to the disconcerting conclusion that I'm more enamoured of young Suzie than I should be. It's not that I don't want her complete obedience and submission, not at all, it's just that... no, don't be silly: I've never worried about the affection of my past pets any more than Mistress Julia worried about whether I felt affection for her. I do feel affection for my first mistress though, I always did...

I swallow the last of the drink and place the glass in the sink. Outside the kitchen, I check my reflection in the hall mirror. Good: outwardly the same, so she'll not suspect anything. That's probably not true. After the massages last time she must have some idea: Suzie is a bright girl, after all. That she is coming suggests she's willing.

I pop upstairs to check everything is in place. Yes... oh, that's the doorbell.

"Come in, Suzie," I say, holding the door open in what is, I realise, an almost perfect replay of her first visit. The glance she gives suggests she thinks so too, though this time it is a Tuesday evening and she has come from her work at the library.

"Hi, Tati." Her face is flushed from her walk here and the warmth of the evening.

"You look a little hot and bothered, Suzie my dear. Come on through to the kitchen and let me fix you a drink before we start." She nods her thanks as she enters and I direct her along the hall to the kitchen at the end. "I don't have cider, I'm afraid, but I do have more of that wine you liked last time. Or perhaps a nice, refreshing gin and tonic? So reviving on a warm evening."

"I, er..." I see hesitation in her eyes, though whether it is nervousness, uncertainty as to what to choose or whether to have a drink at all I cannot tell.