A Midsummer Night's Nightmare

There was one bit of news that went somewhat to making my life less uncertain. William Lewis insisted that Saskia sit for her Matriculation, fully expecting her to excel in all subjects, after all, she was an 'A' student, wasn't she? When she not only failed, but failed miserably, he demanded answers from Henry. Henry expressed surprise and produced her assignment grades for the entire year that indicated that she had received nothing less than an A+ for her assignments throughout the year. William then asked Saskia to produce her work, and that was when he saw red. While they had received an A+ grade, it was obvious, even to him, that these grades were not a reflection of the standards of work submitted.

He demanded more answers, and Henry was forced, reluctantly, and hoping that his teachers would back him, to invite an explanation from those same teachers. He wrongly assumed that they could not sheet any blame onto him. That was when the Area Supervisor became involved in the mess. He produced the papers that had been forwarded to him that had been correctly graded, along with a statement from all of her teachers to the effect that they had all been forced to give her A+ grades, whether she had earned that grade or not, almost invariably not. All papers that he had received were matched with those that her father had produced, and proved to be identical. Those that he received had been graded by her class teachers were marked with an 'F', a grading that was matched by the independent assessors.

Henry attempted to muddy the waters by bringing Melinda into the equation. In an attempt to have me portrayed as a serial offender, he alleged that I had also been having an affair with her. As my Lawyer, and now Melinda's, my father insisted on being present when Melinda was questioned. He had already spoken with both Melinda and Ellen, advising them not to speak with the police without him being present.

"Miss Barrett, were you in a relationship with the accused, who you knew as Dylan Smith, but who we now know was Dylan Mawson?" He was attempting to infer that there was something sinister in this.

"If I may clarify this issue of Identity?" My father interrupted.

"Yes, Mr Mawson?"

"My son chose to use his mother's maiden name when he began his university studies. He believed, whether rightly or wrongly, who knows, that he could not achieve the high scholastic standards that I had achieved at university, and to attempt to emulate me would place him under considerable pressure. There is nothing sinister about being known by a name other than his proper surname. As for whether he and Melinda Barrett are in a relationship, let me state, for the record that they were in a relationship, of sorts."

An admission this early in the piece came as a shock to the police. "What does that mean?"

"To put it simply, yes she is in love with him and yes, he is in love with her. That this love had not been of a physical nature speaks volumes, for not only the willpower shown by these two young people, but the strength of their love for each other. They had both agreed, with the full knowledge and approval of Ellen Barrett, her mother, that there would be no physical relationship between them until they were free of the restrictions placed on them by the legalities of their current situation."

"Are you certain of this, or are you just taking her word for it?"

"You already know about the purely platonic peck on the cheek after the play, and her holding his unconscious body after he had been badly beaten, these are, as far as we can ascertain, the only times that they have even touched. And for your information, we have taken steps to prove that there has been no sexual contact between them. Her doctors have assured us, and her mother, not that we needed this assurance, that she is still a virgin."

"We have been informed that she was seen visiting him in hospital, before he was transferred to Sydney, holding his hand and kissing him."

"What are you trying to tell us here? Are you saying that the tender contact with someone she loves, but who was unable to even respond to her, is in some way a sexual relationship?"

"What about Saskia's allegations that he is the father of her child?" He had realised that the current line of questioning was going nowhere.

"What about them? If you look closely at her allegations, she told Matthew McIntyre that she was pregnant to a teacher. She did not name that teacher, and she certainly did not actually specify that Dylan Smith was the father. She was angry with him, and she did have her reasons for implicating him. It was he that replaced her with Melinda in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', and he did this because she did not know her lines. He did not want her in the role in the first place, but was forced to cast her by Henry Rawlings. I think that you would be better off exploring the relationship between Saskia Lewis and Henry Rawlings, after all it was he that ordered her teachers to give her a much higher grade than warranted by her feeble scholastic efforts."

"But what reason would he do anything like that?"

"For money, pure and simple, that seems to be a popular enough reason. If you were to ask him why he ordered her teachers to give her the 'A+' grades on her assignments, it was to gain funding from her wealthy father for school projects. Funding which we have just been advised, has been withdrawn. He will tell you that he did it for the school, and that he has gained no personal benefit from these donations. That may be true, but it does not excuse his deception."

"Are you attempting to tell us that there was something more to his relationship with the Lewis family than meets the eye, something like that he may be the father of Saskia's child?"

"No, I am not telling you that at all, but what I am suggesting to you is that you should broaden the scope of your investigation, and not just confine it to my son, my innocent son, and Melinda Barrett, a girl who has done nothing more than fall in love, and find herself frustrated at not being able to fully realise that love."

Da Boss's assault trial was an exercise in hanging someone out to dry. Saskia denied having told him that I was the father of her unborn child, that was fair enough, but then she denied, when questioned under oath, having told him that the father was a teacher. She took from him the emotional excuse for attacking me. So, from an attack carried out in revenge for some wrong doing on my part, and an offence to him, it became an unwarranted and premeditated attack. As a result he received a longer term of incarceration than he otherwise would have expected.

Things happened of which I was blissfully unaware. The investigation broadened to include Henry Rawlings actions. Evidence given by the teachers regarding the marking of her assignments was damning enough, but then there was the suggestion that the relationship between Saskia and Henry had gone beyond the student/teacher relationship proscribed by law. As soon as the investigation began down that path Henry disappeared from sight. His shocked wife had no idea what had been going on between him and Saskia. She and Henry had been close friends of the Lewis's, and had attended many functions at their property. Saskia had maintained a respectful distance from Henry and her at these, so she would have said with confidence that there was nothing untoward going on between them. That it now appeared that this was not the case, and it had come as a complete shock to her.

I was granted extended sick leave, and when this ran out, and I had not yet fully recovered, I was dispatched by my parents on a world tour, in the hope that I would be distracted enough that I could forget the trauma. This did not happen, and after three months of drifting aimlessly from one city to the next, one country to the next, I decided that I could stand it no longer and returned home.

I made the decision that I should return to teaching. My first course of action was to gain something more than a general teaching qualification, one that would allow me to teach one subject. My choice was English. I enrolled in an English Literature degree which I could use to teach at a secondary, or even a tertiary level. I graduated with Honours and began applying for teaching jobs in adult education.

Fast forward fifteen years.

It was the first day of a new year's adult education English class. Some time ago I had made the decision that I still wanted to teach. I didn't think that I could cope with teaching young high school students, not after my previous experiences, so I went back to University to update and upgrade my teaching qualifications, and applied for this position.

"Now, who here has seen the 'Bourne Identity'?" Introductions over, it was now down to work. Most of the class raised their hand. "Okay, now who has read the book on which this film was based?" Two hands were raised. I addressed these students. "Apart from the Hero's name and the first twenty or thirty minutes of the film, would you have recognised that the film was based on the book?"

"No." Her name was Melinda Dillon. She was early to mid thirty's pretty, without being obviously beautiful. She was unusual in that she was an actress who had found some success in the glitzy world of Hollywood films, but had turned her back on that world to devote herself to stage roles back in Australia. Her reason for taking this class was to gain some experience in adult education with the view to undertaking tertiary studies, and becoming a drama teacher. "I've also read the Bourne Supremacy, and the Bourne Ultimatum, and they are nothing like the films, the plot lines are different, it seems as if, having decided to make the Bourne books into movies, the producers decided that violent action and special effects were the most important factors."

"You could be right. There was an earlier version of the Bourne Identity with Richard Chamberlain and Jaclyn Smith in the lead roles, this stayed close to the book, and as such was interesting for its time. The baddy was called 'Carlos', and at that time there was an assassin of that name running around. For its time it was relevant, but for our time, how many of you have heard of Carlos, or the Jackal?"

There were blank expressions all round. "Now recently there were three films made from a trilogy of Swedish novels, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire, and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest. Did any of you see these films?" Melinda's hand went up. "Did you read the books?"

"Yes."

"Comparing the films with the books, did you recognise the similarities?"

"Yes. While some obvious changes had to be made to translate the books into movies, they remained true to the original stories. The use of Swedish language and sub-titles preserved the atmosphere of the books, something that the Hollywood version of the Dragon Tattoo didn't quite pull off, at least in my opinion."

"Listen to Ms 'I know everything Smarty Pants', sucking up to the teacher."

I ignored the interruption. "It would seem that the movie going public agreed with you. I know of no plans for sequels. Now what does this tell us?" I looked at the students. "Is there no-one willing to hazard a guess?" I picked the marker and wrote 'communication' on the whiteboard. "What books try, sometimes successfully, to do, is to communicate the story that the author wants to tell, the message that the author wants us to understand. It is the author telling us a story. Now it could be for our amusement, or for our education, to shock us, or to make us go all gooey and romantic, whatever, and to do that the author has to communicate this to us."

"The movies too, try to communicate a message to us, again sometimes successfully, sometimes spectacularly unsuccessfully. The difference is that they have to get the message over in about ninety minutes, and to do that, they have to compress the story line to fit that time frame. The production teams have to make decisions on what to cut and what to keep. If they chose what the public want, they may lose the message the author is trying to communicate. It might still turn out to be a successful film, whereas if they chose what the author wants, the public might not want to see it. Hollywood, in general, is looking for a formula that is working for the time, and they will stick with that formula, and adapt the books to suit, until the public gets sick of it and stops going to see these films. The push then is to find a new successful formula."

"Central to all of that it is a process of communicating a message. When we study English, we are studying how different people have approached this subject of communication, and how communication has changed over the years. What was looked upon as proper communication a couple of hundred years ago is barely understandable today. Just as what passes for communication in today's world, text speak for instance, would be something of a foreign language to the people of a couple of centuries ago. The importance of all of this is effective communication. Now, the assignments that you will be given during the course of this year are your chance to communicate a message to me. What that message is, is up to you, but there will be two things that I will judge your efforts on, structure and content. I have already told you that the content is up to you, but the structure is non-negotiable. You will briefly answer the given question, you will then expand on that answer, and finally you will summarise that answer."

The more that I looked at Meli Dillon, the more that I got the feeling that I had met her somewhere before, and then it hit me, right between the eyes. "Ms Dillon, I wonder if I could have a quick word with you after class."

"Surely." She smiled at me. Had she recognised me? Had she forgiven me for turning my back on her all those years ago?

My thoughts were interrupted by John Wilson, the man who had interrupted me a second ago. "I suppose we have to look forward to you two getting all hot and bothered, will we?"

"There will be no getting all hot and bothered as you so delicately put it, in this class. You are all adult students, and all presumably here to improve your educational qualifications in order to further your career. You will be concentrating on your studies so that this year is not a complete waste of time. Do I make myself clear?"

The class filed out, leaving Melinda and myself alone in the room. The last student to leave was John. "Now you two behave yourselves, don't do anything that I wouldn't do." His smirking words fell on deaf ears.

"Am I forgiven?" I asked.

She looked at me, tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh yes, yes, years ago." She walked slowly toward me and I met her half way. We said nothing for some time, speech being irrelevant to communication, and impossible, because of the passion of our kiss.

"I didn't really need to take this class, but a friend of mine took it last year and she was forever crapping on about this wonderful teacher. I stopped breathing for I don't know how long when she mentioned your name, Dylan Mawson. I remember that was your real name from years ago. I could have just fronted up to meet her after her class, but I think that she was in love with you and I needed to find out if you were single and available without being too obvious."

I struggled for something coherent to say, "So, you got married then?" I asked. God, how pathetic can you be.

"Yes, but Dillon wasn't my married name, that is my stage name. I chose it to remind me of you, but while it sounds the same, I spelled it differently. My ex was a nice enough guy, good looking, hard working and a good provider. Just about everything that I could have wanted, except for one thing. He wasn't you. I tried, at least at first, but after a short time I gave up trying. He couldn't handle my lack of enthusiasm for our marriage, and we divorced ten years ago. How about you, did you marry?"

"Would you believe, no? It took a long time to recover from my ordeal. The physical part was bad enough, but the psychological side took even longer. I would not have made a good husband."

"But that was fifteen years ago, surely it didn't take that long to recover."

"No, not really, but I had another problem. Would you believe how many times I tried to find you? I even contacted your mother, but she couldn't or wouldn't tell me anything, where you were, what you were doing, nothing."

"I can understand that. Do you know that I blamed myself for everything that happened to you? My infatuation with you placed you in a difficult position, but I kept telling myself that if you loved me, we would find a way to resolve those issues. It wasn't until much later that Mum told me of the conversation that the two of you had, the bit before I arrived home that was, about how cut up you were about not being able to convince yourself that it wouldn't matter that you were my teacher, and that teachers were forbidden to enter into a relationship with their students and, on top of that, I was far too young. Even though I was over the age of consent, these were all valid reasons why we couldn't be together. I couldn't see that for some time. And then there was your arrest for abusing your position as a teacher by having sex with, of all people, Saskia Lewis. I wanted to go to the police and tell them that you couldn't have had sex with her, at least not when she said that you had, because you were having sex with me. I thought that I was the only person who could save you. My mother wouldn't let me lie to the police."

"I don't think that it will do us any good at all, this raking over the coals of what happened. It is all in the past and best forgotten."

"I know, but I have to tell you what I went through. You weren't the only one hurt by all of this. It was years before I came to terms with all of the issues involved."

"One thing that you were able to achieve, that was that you got into NIDA, and then on to Hollywood. You at least realised a dream of carving out a career as an actress."

"But that dream became a nightmare. Back in those days we were prepared to work for peanuts, and the studios made the most of that. We were signed on at Australian salary rates that were well below the standard contract rates for the local cast. Would you believe that when we cast in the second lead we were paid not much more than a local extra. We were given lousy parts that no-one else wanted until we had established ourselves in the eyes of the studios. It was only then that we were paid a decent salary. Still, it was no-where near what the 'A' list was getting, but more than we could hope to achieve back here."

"So what went wrong for you?"

"My marriage went wrong, that's what. It was wrong from the very start, before it started if truth be told. It was a marriage made, not in heaven, but in a studio deal. My co-star fancied me, and it was decided that it would be good publicity for us to become an item off screen. One thing led to another, and public opinion decreed that we should get hitched. No thought was given to my thoughts on this fiasco. I was told in no uncertain terms that I would not work in Hollywood again if I didn't agree to the arrangement. Like I said before, he was a nice enough guy, but he wasn't you. It had no show of lasting, and he started looking around for a replacement, not that I minded, but the word was spread that it was me that was unfaithful. In a way that was true, but the public weren't to know that I wasn't unfaithful to him, I was unfaithful to you when I married him. I never stopped loving you, ever."

"How do you know that it was me, and not your adolescent crush on me that you loved?"

"You don't remember this, but every afternoon, after school, I went to the hospital to see you. You were in a coma for three weeks, and I went to see you. At first the nurses wouldn't let me into the Intensive Care Unit, but I pleaded with them until they did. I must have made a pathetic sight, sitting there beside you, squeezing your hand so hard I almost broke the bones in it, and kissing that space between your swollen lips and the first bit of wire sticking out of your cheek that was holding your jaw together. Then when Mum came to get me, I would go home and study. I wanted to get good marks because I loved you, and didn't want to disappoint you by neglecting my studies. Mrs Roberts, Maureen, helped me as much as she could. You probably didn't know, but I got the impression that she was in love with you. I should have been jealous of her, but in my mind there was no-one but me for you."