‘We’re going to be fine,’ said Jason. ‘Everyone relax.’
‘You telling me to relax makes me even less relaxed,’ said Pip.
‘Whatever happens,’ I said, ‘it’s been fun, right? It’s all been fun.’
Everyone nodded. We all knew it had.
Whatever happened with the play, with the society, with our strange little friendship group …
It had all been so much fun.
‘Let’s do this,’ said Jason, and we all put our hands in.
Jason was on stage first. With a microphone and dressed as Romeo – in brightly coloured contrasting prints.
‘This is just a little pre-show announcement,’ he said. ‘Firstly – thank you everyone for coming. Very nice to see such a large and impressive turnout, no doubt thanks to our incredibly extensive publicity campaign.’
There were some chortles in the audience.
‘Secondly, I just wanted to inform you that we’ve had some … mild issues, trying to prepare this play. We had some … cast disputes. And we’ve had to rush through some of the final scenes. Everything is fine now, we hope, but … it’s been quite the journey getting here. There’ve been a lot of tears and heated WhatsApp messages.’
There were more chuckles in the crowd.
‘For those of you who don’t know,’ Jason continued, ‘we at the Shakespeare Society decided that for our first ever show, we would perform a selection of scenes rather than just one play. All of these scenes are, in one way or another, about love – but we leave it up to you to interpret what sort of love these scenes are depicting. Pure, toxic, romantic, platonic – we wanted to explore all sorts. In any case, it’s going to be quite a bit shorter than a regular play, so we’ll all get out in time for a late pub lunch.’
Some whoops from the crowd.
‘Lastly,’ said Jason, ‘four of us wanted to say that we’re dedicating this performance to the person who managed to bring us all together after everything sort of fell apart.’
He turned and looked at me in the wings, his eyes finding mine.
‘Georgia Warr is the reason this play is even happening,’ he said. ‘And it might just be a small play, but it matters to all of us. Quite a lot. And Georgia deserves to have something made just for her. So, this one’s for you, Georgia. This is a play about love.’
It was a bit of a mess, but it was wonderful. We started with a comedy, Rooney and Pip going on as Benedick and Beatrice, and soon the audience were in stitches. I somehow found myself hearing the story of Much Ado About Nothing as if I had never heard it before. It was alive in front of me. It was beautiful.
Twelfth Night was up next. Which meant it was nearly time for me to go on.
And that’s when I realised I was fine.
No nausea. No running to the bathroom like Romeo and Juliet in Year 13.
I was nervous, sure. But a normal level of nervous, mixed with excitement to perform, to act, to do the thing I really, really enjoyed.
And when I went on and did my ‘Come away, death’ speech, I really did have fun. Jason and Sunil went on after me as Orsino and Viola, and I watched from one side, smiling, relieved, happy. I’d done it. We’d done it.
Jason and Rooney did some Romeo and Juliet, making it look as passionate as if they really were dating. Then all of us did some King Lear, where Lear tries to figure out which of his daughters loves him the most. And then I was Prospero with Sunil as Ariel from The Tempest, both of us needing the other but wanting to be free from our magical bond.
Rooney and Pip came back and did more Much Ado, where Benedick and Beatrice finally admit they love each other, and when they kissed, the audience roared with applause.
And finally, we ended with A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Or, rather, I did.
I sat in the throne of flowers and read the final lines to conclude the play.
‘So, good night unto you all.’ I smiled gently at the faces of the audience, hoping, praying this had all been enough. That this wouldn’t be the last time I performed with my best friends. ‘Give me your hands if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.’
Sunil dimmed the stage lights, and then the audience were on their feet.
We took our bows as the audience cheered. This wouldn’t go down in university history. This wouldn’t be anything special to anyone else. People would forget about this, or just remember it as that kind of weird but interesting student play they saw one time.
Nobody else in the universe would see this play.
But I guess that made it ours.