“Wow,” Zach said as his attention turned to us, still wrapped around each other. “Rafe, bit much for a Tuesday afternoon at a primary school, mate.” He was attempting a disgruntled tone, but he couldn’t suppress his smile. Zach was still Rafe’s biggest fan.
“Daddy!” shouted Ozzie. “You can’t be back here! You can cuddle Miss Claralater.”
Rafe did a lot of that. Cuddling. Some of my haze had lifted since I’d seen my father, and I could see even more how veryverycareful Rafe was being with me. It was still all light touches, cuddles, no sudden movements, keeping his tone level and soft, even when I was frustrating him. It was like I was a bowl that he’d broken, and he felt like he had to hold me carefully in case I fell apart again.
“Okay, buddy,” Rafe said as I pulled away from him under the curious stares of the kids around us. He ruffled Ozzie’s hair and told him to break a leg before he sauntered off to find his seat as the lights dimmed.
“Showtime!” Lily whispered excitedly next to me, practically bouncing on the soles of her feet.
A spotlight clicked on, illuminating Mrs Clayton standing centre stage in a surprisingly elegant black dress.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” she began, her crisp voice cutting through the murmurs. “Welcome to Molton Prep’s production ofSweeney Todd.” She paused, clearly struggling to maintain her professional demeanour. “I feel I should warn those of a sensitive disposition that this production contains scenes of... enthusiastic violence.” A ripple of laughter went through the audience. “Before we begin, I’d like to thank Miss Summerfield for her, er, creative vision, and Miss Clara for her invaluable assistance with the children.”
Lily gave me a light shove and we both stepped out onto the side of the stage, giving the audience a small wave. I looked out into the audience and saw the Sterlings sitting near the front. The earl, the countess and Granny Sterling beamed at me, and Poppy blew me an enthusiastic kiss.
I’d been worried about seeing the Sterlings for the first time after everything happened. What would a family as posh as theirs think about having such a close association with a criminal’s daughter? But the first time they came over, when I was still bruised and swollen, Lady Sterling had hugged me for over a minute. It was one of the few times I cried. A maternal hug like that cut through the numbness, warming me from the inside out. Even the ultra-posh, reserved Granny Sterling had patted my arm, which was a level above her usual affectionate limit. Rafe’s dad had found me later when I was getting some water in the kitchen, staring out into the garden.
“Brave thing you did,” he said, and I nearly dropped the glass I was holding. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I-it’s okay. I’m a bit jumpy, is all.”
“I mean it, though. You’re a brave woman.”
“People keep saying that,” I mumbled.
“You don’t agree?”
“All I did was snitch. It’s not exactly––”
“Don’t be absurd!” he snapped. “You’re braver than most of the women and men of my acquaintance, and I know some extremely questionable fellows in the military. Without you, your family’s network couldn’t have been dealt with… via the legal route, that is.”
Before I could ask the earl what the other route would have been, he’d gone.
A wave of applause broke out, but Mrs Clayton wasn’t having any of it.
“I’d hold that thought if I were you,” she said ominously. “Let’s see how you all feelafterthe performance. So, without further ado, Molton Prep proudly presentsSweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street!”
Mrs Clayton walked off the stage as the lights came on to reveal the elaborate, if a little bizarre, set of old London, constructed entirely of cardboard, glitter and what appeared to be an excessive amount of aluminium foil. The parents burst into another round of applause and, despite my nerves, I found myself smiling.
When Margot finally made her entrance as Sweeney Todd, the audience’s reaction was a mixture of laughter and genuine alarm. The tiny girl, dressed in a miniature barber’s outfit complete with fake bloody apron, had a manic gleam in her eye that seemed far too authentic for comfort. I glanced out into the audience again to see the Duke of Buckingham grinning from ear to ear, whilst his wife, Lottie, gripped his arm, focusing on her daughter with a horrified expression.
Ozzie’s moment came at the end of the first act. Playing Sweeney’s first victim, he was positioned in the barber’s chair which was up on the higher part of the stage asMargot circled him dramatically, plastic razor gleaming under the stage lights.
“You’re cooked, Pirelli!” Margot declared, going completely off-script in a moment of inspired improvisation.
Then, with a dramatic flourish, she drew the plastic razor across Ozzie’s throat. Hugo Knightsbridge, one of the smaller year threes, was positioned behind Ozzie and let off a party popper with red streamers (something Lily had come up with when Mrs C banned a device that would spurt fake blood across the stage). Ozzie then began his dramatic death, complete with gargling and clutching at his neck. Margot handed him something from the depths of her apron and he fumbled with it at his neck until red blossomed from it and soaked his shirt.
A collective “Ewww!” rose from the audience, followed by uncertain applause as Ozzie’s “body” slipped off the chair and down the slide Lily had nabbed from her neighbour’s garden, onto the table on the lower part of the stage to be met by two other children dressed as equally bloodthirsty barber’s assistants, who were preparing to chop Ozzie up and turn him into a pie.
I looked out at the audience again, all now gaping in shock at the scene. Some camera phones were being slowly lowered.
Poor Lottie Harding looked like she might throw up.
Bloody Margot.
The interval was a blessed relief, until of course Zach dragged me out from backstage to join the Sterlings. Rafe wasn’t the only Sterling Zach worshipped. The earl had arrived last week for a Sunday roast with a black Labrador puppy.
“Heard you want to be a vet, my boy,” he blustered as he handed the squirming puppy to my open-mouthedbrother. “Can’t train to be a vet if you don’t have a dog. Bloody ridiculous.”
