Chapter 5

In the autumn of 1967, the year before Toby’s eighteenth birthday, on the first day of what was their final year at King Henry’s College in the city, Andrew Stevenson had been made Head of School. As the announcement was made at the first assembly of the new school year, there was a spontaneous burst of applause from the boys, for it was a popular choice. Toby clapped his friend delightedly on the back as he stumbled from his seat in the back row of the assembly to take his place beside the Headmaster on the platform.

Then the choice of Second Prefect had been announced and Toby was dumbfounded. He had never for one moment thought that he would be selected for such a position and he had to swallow hard and blink several times as he took his place beside his friend and colleague. So it was that their final year at the College had started on a very high note for the two young men and as they moved their belongings into the special study reserved for the Head of College and his Assistant, they could barely contain their glee.

‘I can hardly wait to get home tonight,’ laughed Toby, ‘Mum and Dad will be thrilled to bits.’

‘The Head has got to be out of his mind putting you and me in charge of the place for a whole year,’ chuckled Andrew as he stacked his text books onto the shelf above his desk, ‘It’ll be chaos.’

‘No it won’t,’ said Toby earnestly, ‘We must try very hard to get it right.’

In fact, with Andrew’s natural gift for leadership and Toby’s flair for organisation, it quickly became obvious that the Headmaster had actually made two very good decisions. The prefect body worked well under their guidance and several masters commented to one another that they had seldom known the school to run so smoothly right from the start of a new academic year.

The year absolutely flew by and after the excitement of the Easter holidays Toby had been quite reluctant to go back to school at the beginning of their final term. Towards the end of it, of course, they would be sitting their A level examinations, which would have a huge bearing on the direction that their lives would take once they finally left secondary education.

One morning just after the summer term had begun, Toby was sorting through the pile of circulars, memoranda and notices that was always passed to him for distribution and action. He suddenly came across something which fired his enthusiasm at once.

‘Hey Andrew,’ he said, holding out a piece of paper, ‘Look at this.’

His colleague took the notice from his hand and scanned it quickly. He laughed.

‘You’re not going to volunteer to make a fool of yourself surely?’

‘Well, not to make a fool of myself, but I think I’ll offer to help backstage. What about you?’

Andrew wrinkled his nose dubiously.

‘Yes, backstage would be all right. The only thing that bothers me is that if we volunteer at all we’ll probably be press-ganged into auditioning for parts.’

The notice was an announcement by the Principal English master that he had decided to attempt to revive the long defunct Dramatic Society, with a view to staging an English translation version of ‘The Miser’ by Molière right at the end of the school year. A level examinations generally finished towards the end of June and the most senior boys were then always at something of a loose end until the term finally finished in late July. All interested members of the school were invited to an exploratory meeting to be held in the Assembly Hall later that week.

Toby’s enthusiasm for the project was infectious and the very next Upper Sixth form English period was entirely taken up by a discussion of the idea. Toby found himself appointed as Stage Manager and Special Assistant to the Producer and spent a few days before the meeting canvassing support amongst his fellow members of the Sixth form.

Both Mr. Singleton, the English master, and his Special Assistant were highly gratified by the extraordinary turnout for the first meeting of the New Dramatic Society. Well over forty boys attended.

‘This is remarkable,’ murmured the tall bespectacled master to his assistant as they made their way up to the platform, ‘Has it anything to do with you?’

‘Well, I have tried to stir up a bit of interest, sir,’ admitted Toby with a grin.

‘I think that there’s little doubt that we’ll be able to go ahead with the production,’ declared Mr. Singleton, ‘The only factor against us now is going to be time.’

He called the meeting to order and gave a general outline of his aims and ideas. Then, for the benefit of those who had not had a chance to see a copy of the play, he went through the list of characters whose parts would need to be filled and gave a synopsis of the story.

‘Now,’ he said at last, ‘Before we go any further I have a little piece of information to impart which I am sure will be of great interest to you all. You will doubtless have noticed that there are three female parts in this play, those of Frosine, Élise and Marianne. Having had a talk with the Headmaster before announcing this project, I decided to offer these parts to girls from one of our local schools.’

There was a definite buzz of interest in the hall at the mention of the word “girls”, a rare commodity in a single sex school like the College.

‘This afternoon,’ continued Mr. Singleton, once the hum of conversation had died down, ‘I went out to Benningford Hall and held auditions with the help of the Head of the English Department there. The response from the Sixth form girls was very positive and I have pleasure in announcing that the three parts in question have already been filled most satisfactorily.’

Pandemonium broke out in the hall and there was sustained cheering and applause. Toby leaned over to Mr. Singleton.

‘I bet you’ll get two hundred people at the first audition, sir,’ he laughed. Who are the girls? I know one or two girls in the Sixth Form at Benningford.’

‘I believe that you know at least one of those who we have chosen quite well,’ replied his English master, smiling wryly, ‘When I can make myself heard again I will reveal all.’

He held up his hands for silence and eventually some sort of order was restored.

‘I’m sure that you will be interested to know the names of those who are filling the parts, particularly as one of them has a brother here at the College,’ he continued.

Toby looked over at Andrew, whose eyes were like saucers. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

‘The part of Élise will be played by Miss Natasha Stevenson,’ continued Mr. Singleton.

All eyes in the room turned to her brother and there was much laughter and applause.

‘The part of Frosine will be played by Miss Samantha West,’ announced Mr Singleton. He paused significantly, ‘And finally, the part of Marianne will be played by Miss Emma Knight.’

There was a roar of approval from the Sixth form, most of whom had seen Emma around the school on several occasions and a scarlet-faced Andrew found himself being clapped on the back enthusiastically.

‘I bet I know who’ll audition for the part of Cléante now, sir,’ chuckled Toby to his English master.

‘Oddly enough,’ smiled Mr Singleton, ‘A certain young lady said exactly the same thing to me earlier this afternoon.’

Once more he held up his hands for silence.

‘Auditions for the male parts will begin on Monday afternoon. Those interested can obtain copies of the play either from me or from Toby Adamson. Thank you very much for your attention, gentlemen. I look forward to seeing many of you again on Monday directly after school.’

With that he closed his file and walked from the stage. Uproar broke out yet again and Toby found himself surrounded by boys demanding a copy of the play.

Later, as he and Andrew walked back to main school to pick up their belongings, he took a slim volume from his blazer pocket and handed it over solemnly.

‘You’d better start learning your lines,’ he said.

Andrew looked appalled.

‘I’m going to have serious words with Miss Emma Knight about this,’ he muttered.

‘Nonsense,’ laughed Toby, ‘With Em and Tasha involved it should be an absolute groove. I’m almost tempted to audition myself.’

‘Why don’t you then?’ enquired Andrew challengingly.

Toby shook his head sadly.

‘I’ve got too much on my plate as it is. Being S.A. to Mr. Singleton as well as Stage Manager and keeping up the Duty Rotas for College is taking up all my day. I’m already hardly finding time to study.’

‘Yes, I take your point and anyway you couldn’t be onstage and backstage all at the same time.’

‘Precisely.’

‘It’s a shame, but at least you’re involved in it one way and another.’

‘Does that mean you’re going to audition?’

‘Yes, well, I shall have to, shan’t I?’ chuckled Andrew, ‘Apart from anything else I’ll need to keep a firm eye on Emma and protect her from all the randy buggers in the Upper Sixth.’

Toby roared with laughter.

‘Now there’s a true statement if ever I heard one.’

‘Hey, have you got the car today?’

‘Uhhuh. I knew I was going to be late. Why? Do you want a lift?’

‘Wouldn’t run me over to the farm, would you? I’m dying to see Emma to talk about all this.’

‘Yes, sure,’ replied Toby willingly as they arrived at the main portals, ‘We’d better get a move on though. I’ll race you to the top of the building.’

In a manner hardly befitting their senior status in the school, the twosome hurtled up the four flights of stairs to their study in the eaves of the old building.

‘Beat you,’ panted Andrew as he flung himself through the door.

‘Yes, but only just,’ gasped Toby as he reached the top of the staircase and leaned against the firedoor to catch his breath, ‘When I consider how unfit I am and how fit you’re supposed to be, I can see that the First XI is in for a bad season.’

‘I’ll have to talk to Emma about that too. I can’t be getting enough of the other. Did you know that one good session is supposed to be as good as a five mile hike?’

‘Having seen you perform a few times recently I know where you’re going wrong,’ chuckled Toby, ‘You let Emma do all the work.’

‘Hmm,’ Andrew looked at him guiltily, ‘I think you could be right. We’ll have to try out some new positions.’

Grinning at the thought, the two of them picked up their cases and made their way back downstairs.

‘The car’s in St. Michael’s Lane,’ said Toby and they turned left across the quad.

‘You know this has been such a useful privilege,’ commented Andrew as Toby unlocked the boot of his mother’s car and they threw their blue Globe-Trotter book carrying cases into it carelessly.

‘If you’d only pull your finger out and pass your test, you could take advantage of it too,’ observed Toby drily.

‘That’s very true,’ agreed Andrew as he settled into the passenger seat, ‘But then I’d have to talk Mummy into letting me borrow her car. I’ve decided that it’s much better to let you do the begging and then simply hitch a ride. It’s a great position for you official chauffeur to the Head of College.’

‘Official driver,’ corrected Toby the scholar, ‘The word “chauffeur” suggests that I’m getting paid and I haven’t ever noticed any money changing hands.’

Andrew guffawed.

‘Next time you have to stop for petrol I’ll buy you a gallon.’

‘Great,’ said Toby and promptly pulled into a filling station to take advantage of his friend’s glib promise before it was conveniently forgotten.

‘You know, I’ve been thinking,’ announced Andrew as they wound their way along the country lanes that led to the Knight’s farm.

‘Good Lord,’ gasped Toby in mock horror, ‘That’s very unusual for you, isn’t it?’

‘Fool. No, listen. I’ve been thinking about the fact that Tasha is going to be in the play.’

‘Go on.’

‘Well it’s just that it doesn’t sound like Tasha. Not the new, sad, withdrawn, introspective Tasha who came out of that broken relationship with youknowwho.’

Toby was silent for a little while.

‘It does sound a lot like Emma though, doesn’t it?’ he commented.

Andrew laughed.

‘Oh yes, it sounds like Emma all right. She’s a real show-off.’

‘Takes one to know one,’ snorted Toby in amusement.

‘You’ve hit the nail on the head,’ decided Andrew, ‘I bet that Em said that she’d do it, but only if Tasha would too.’

‘Good for Emma,’ Toby was full of admiration, ‘You said that she was determined to make Tasha snap out of it and if this doesn’t do it then nothing will. She’ll have the whole damned College drooling over her. If that doesn’t mend her bruised ego then I’ll eat my hat.’

Just then they arrived at the farm and Toby swung the car into the driveway and drew to a halt outside the house.

‘Are you coming in to say hello?’ asked Andrew.

‘Yes, OK, though I don’t suppose I’d better stop for long.’