My first scene without him was bad, but not as bad as the one where not even Grace, the Nurse, is on stage with me. There’s just me, on the balcony that’s nothing more than a little gallery with a wooden ladder leaning up against it, because Mr Acevedo prefers a minimalist set.
It’s the attention of several hundred people, fixed solely on me. I haven’t the faintest idea how my body can be this calm.
I don’t even try to copy Eleanor because I know that can only fail. I speak the lines differently from her, in my own way. I’m thinking about Charlie. I put all my despair, and all my fascination, into them.
It goes crazily fast. Our first kiss, a real kiss, Charlie’s lips on mine, warm, calming; his flight from Verona; the elixir I have to swallow so that I can be dead for a couple of days.
I’m almost more afraid of this moment, when I have to lie motionless on the stage, than all the scripted scenes put together.
Charlie finding me, his hands shaking me by the shoulders, lifting me.
Don’t move.
Just don’t move.
I was afraid I’d want to laugh, but I hear his despair and it’s so real that laughing is the last thing on my mind. He’s acting even better than he does with Eleanor. I don’t have to look at him to be sure of that. I can hear that he’s crying, just from his voice, quiet yet clear in this deathly silent space.
His hand movements are precise and gentle, his lips stroke over mine before he lays me down again.
Keep your breathing shallow so the audience can’t see.
When Charlie has taken the poison and slumped down beside me, I count the seconds until I can wake up.
The fact that there’s only a little light on us while the rest of the stage is dark makes it easy to weep bitter tears when Juliet realizes that Romeo is dead.
I am aware that these are my last lines on stage, so I force myself to forget everything. Nothing else matters. Only Charlie, who doesn’t move as I take his face in my hands and kiss him because I love him, and then I find his dagger, kneel beside him and raise it.
I’ve had one single rehearsal, earlier on, with Charlie and Mr Acevedo, but I don’t think about that as I slip it between my ribs and sink to the floor with a cry. I don’t think about anything. My mind is blank.
It’s over.
I’m dying.
Charlie’s body tenses, barely perceptibly as I collapse onto him. It’s a relatively comfortable position, for which I’m secretlythanking my stars, because I’m going to have to hold it for the next ten minutes.
My heart is racing, but I only notice once I’m lying with my head on Charlie’s chest and feel his beating surprisingly calmly and slowly. Is he asleep? For a moment, I’m genuinely unsure, but then I feel his hand, on the side facing away from the audience, reaching for my body. His fingers stroke my leg, it’s a tinywe did it, and he doesn’t stop until the very end.
I force myself to breathe more slowly and with every passing minute while Capulet and the Nurse find us and say their final lines, my pulse settles more. The adrenaline is draining from my body. Charlie’s here, everything is fine. We actually did it.
‘Hey.’
I jump as he moves beneath me. Why is everything so loud all of a sudden?
It takes me a while to twig that it must be thunderous applause. Then I see that the curtain is closed. I raise my head; the others are already hugging.
‘Did you nod off?’ Charlie sounds amused and thrilled all at once, as I clamber up from him.
‘Only for a moment,’ I murmur. He kisses me, and I’m weak at the knees as I stand up. Charlie holds out his hand. I see the delirium in his eyes, and the relief.
‘We did it,’ I whisper, but it’s drowned in the applause, which is still going strong.
‘We did it,’ Charlie repeats, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me. We kiss and everything else just fades away.
Mr Acevedo is shooing the others around the curtain so that they can make their bows to the delighted audience. Charlie and I are to go last. After Louis, Gideon and Grace, who receive enormously loud claps and cheers.
Charlie lets go of my hand, slips through the curtain, and the crowd goes wild. It’s the moment that the last remnant of panic drains from my body, making way for pure euphoria.
Charlie is standing in centre stage, holding his hand out to me. As I make my way forward, everyone stands up. They actually stand up.
