‘Which scene do you want to go through?’ Sinclair asks, throwing his bag onto a seat in the bottom row.
‘Hold on.’ I reach for my iPad and open the cover. ‘We’re in the middle of writing the farewell scene when Romeo gets banished from Verona.’
‘After he’s killed Tybalt?’
‘Yes, that’s the one.’ I scroll down my document. ‘Romeo’s sent into exile and Juliet’s just heard about it from her nurse.’
‘OK.’ Sinclair walks to the edge of the stage and presses both hands onto it. He pushes up and, in one smooth movement, he’s sitting on the stage. ‘Shall we carry on with that scene and you can write as we go?’
‘Yeah, sounds good.’ I put my stuff on the stage and I’m about to walk around to the little flight of steps to one side when Sinclair crouches down and holds his hand out to me. I hesitate for a moment, then let him pull me up.
He sits facing me, one leg bent, his eyes on the original text we’re adapting for our version. His blond hair flops into his face.
‘Good.’ I clear my throat quietly. ‘So, Juliet’s shocked at Mercutio and Tybalt dying but she’s standing by Romeo. And she’s in despair because her father has just promised her to Paris, and wants them to get married this same week. There’s no way you want to leave her here, but you know you won’t survive the night in Verona if you bump into the Capulets. You’d ratherflee under cover of darkness, but you can’t psych yourself up to it, so you stay until daybreak. OK?’
Sinclair looks one hundred per cent focused as he glances up from the text. I’m still as fascinated as ever by watching him slip into the part, shedding his own identity as he does so.
‘OK, let’s get started. We haven’t settled on the words for this bit yet, so just improvise and we’ll see what happens.’
I try to gather myself, then speak Juliet’s first lines.
‘“Is it true what they’re saying in the streets, Romeo? Tell me it isn’t so.”’
Sinclair’s expression is blank and I can see the shock and despair in his face. And feel him pulling himself together for Juliet.
‘“What are they saying?”’ he asks tonelessly.
‘“That Tybalt’s dead. That you killed him. Is it true, Romeo?”’
His jaw muscles stand out as he lowers his head. ‘“I’m not proud of what I’ve done.”’
‘“My God, Romeo! Do you know what that means? My father is raging! He wants you dead, he wants—”’
‘“I know, my love,”’ he interrupts harshly. ‘“It wasn’t my intention but Tybalt left me no choice. He would have killed me, he was so angry. And as for your father . . . I can’t stay in Verona. I’ve come to bid you farewell.”’
My throat constricts. I’m amazed – we’re only acting and yet, somehow, we’re not. ‘“So it’s true?”’ I whisper. ‘“You’re banished?”’
‘“It’s the only way, my love.”’ Sinclair’s eyes are on me, his expression so insistent that I can’t move. ‘“I can go and live, or stay and die.”’
‘“Then I’m coming with you.”’
‘“Don’t be silly.”’
‘“I’m not being silly, Romeo, I’m desperate! Don’t do this to me.”’
‘“Do you think this is fun for me? I’m going out of my mind at the thought of having to be apart from you.”’
‘“Then stay here,”’ I beg. ‘“Please, at least for a few hours more. It’s not morning yet, you can stay.”’
‘“Can’t you hear? The birds are singing, the sky is growing lighter. I have no more time.”’
‘“Let me go with you,”’ I whisper. ‘“Take me with you, I mean it.”’
‘“You know I can’t,”’ says Sinclair, looking me right in the eyes. ‘“It’s too dangerous.”’
‘“I don’t care.”’
‘“But I do. I must always care when it comes to you, don’t you see?”’
