The Rapunzel Dilemma Read online

  ‘He’s not just gorgeous,’ sighed Max, ‘he’s also an incredible actor. He’s going to be a huge star.’

  ‘And he obviously likes you,’ observed Lily.

  Max had smiled and practically blushed.

  Yes, Lily knew lots about Max and almost nothing about Ronan other than that he was a talented artist and a loner – a popular loner, too.

  ‘Which is a total contradiction,’ said Lily aloud as she pushed open the door to her room. ‘Oh, sorry,’ she added as Charlotte leapt up from her bed. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. I didn’t think you’d be back.’

  ‘Well, I am,’ said Charlotte tersely, pushing the letter she’d been reading under her pillow.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said Lily. ‘No need to get snarky.’

  ‘I’m not,’ retorted Charlotte. ‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’

  ‘Big night, huh? Was it a party or the theatre or just a night on the town?’ asked Lily lightly.

  ‘That’s none of your business.’

  Lily took a deep breath and looked her square in the face. ‘You know, I actually don’t give a crap where you’ve been. I was just trying to be friendly. I know you don’t like me, Charlotte, and I probably don’t like you either, but you don’t have to be such a bitch. But, hey, whatever. Go back to reading your letter and pretend I’m not here. I’ll do the same and that way, we both win.’ She dropped onto her bed, tugged her unfinished letter from her top drawer and wrote angrily:

  My new friend Max totally gets the challenges that so many aspiring actors face. He knows from personal experience just how cold and ruthless some people can be.

  Lily’s nib went through the page.

  She glared at Charlotte, pulled her iPod from her pocket, shoved her ear-buds into her ears and found her favourite Mountain Goats album. Then she screwed her letter into a ball and shoved it into the drawer. She couldn’t write that to Dad. She glanced at her watch. It was only midnight in Paris, maybe Angel was still awake. She’d text her and vent a little.

  She pulled out her phone and, to her surprise, it rang.

  ‘Lily, it’s me.’

  ‘Angel! I was just about to text you,’ said Lily. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d still be up.’

  ‘Grandmama and I just got home,’ explained Angel. ‘We went to the ballet and Monsieur Vidal was there and, oh Lily, I had to call you. I’ve got the best news!’

  ‘So spill,’ said Lily, wishing Charlotte wasn’t there so she didn’t have to pretend to be happy.

  ‘Monsieur Vidal wants me on the team for his summer collection. He said he’d been hearing good things about me and thought I’d benefit from the experience.’

  ‘That’s brilliant, Angel.’ Lily managed to sound enthusiastic. ‘Grandmama must be pleased.’

  ‘She said she was glad that Antoine still had an eye for talent.’

  ‘Definitely pleased,’ affirmed Lily. ‘She’ll be wanting you to start your own design studio next.’

  Angel laughed happily. ‘That’s what Dad said last week when I told him I’d started sketching again.’

  Lily felt as if a stone had lodged in her throat. ‘And he’s right,’ she said brightly. ‘You totally have to do it.’

  ‘One day, I hope,’ replied Angel. ‘But probably not for years. I’ve still got so much to learn.’

  Years, thought Lily forlornly. Angel’s only just begun her career and I already want her to give it up. Out loud she said, ‘We’ve both got loads to learn, but think of the fun we’re having along the way.’

  ‘Oh, Lily, I’m so glad you’re having fun,’ said Angel. ‘I so hoped the Academy would be everything you wanted.’

  ‘It is. It’s even better.’

  ‘How’s Max? Have you made lots of friends? I’ll bet there are loads of cute guys there.’

  Lily instantly thought of Ronan. He wasn’t cute, just devastatingly gorgeous. She was about to tell Angel about him when she remembered Charlotte was across the room. ‘Max and I went to the Tate tonight. It was awesome, but I’m pretty wrecked so maybe we can talk tomorrow?’

  ‘I can’t tomorrow, Lily,’ said Angel apologetically. ‘Grandmama’s taking me shopping.’

  ‘Is it a new season or is there a new designer in town?’ asked Lily and felt an unfamiliar pang of longing. She touched the locket around her neck. Maybe if her mother had lived . . . But growing up with Dad she’d just never been all that interested in clothes. It had been another source of disappointment for her grandmother. Which was ironic, because right now she thought she might enjoy shopping in Paris with the Comtesse.

  Angel laughed. ‘Both, I guess, but you know we never need a reason.’

  ‘Well, have fun,’ said Lily. ‘And call me when you can.’

  Somehow Lily got through Sunday. Max was out for the day (‘lunch and a show with Mother so she’ll keep paying my allowance’) and the first years were mostly ignoring her, so she spent the day in one of the rehearsal rooms memorising Titania’s lines. By Sunday night she was longing for Monday’s classes just so she’d have someone to talk to.

  Monday lunchtime, Max was missing from the dining room and Lily had resigned herself to eating alone again when, to her surprise, Phoebe invited her to sit with her and Gemma.

  Gemma clearly wasn’t happy about it, but Phoebe ignored her scowls. ‘Charlotte’s gone to tell Dr Frank that we’ve all agreed on A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ she explained.

  ‘Great,’ said Lily, trying to sound enthusiastic. She resisted the urge to ask who’d got what part – it was enough that she seemed to be emerging from social quarantine. The thought of quarantine made her look around for Ronan, but he wasn’t at the Dragons’ table.

  Shrugging, she turned back and asked Phoebe and Gemma about seeing David Tennant live on stage.

  Phoebe assured her he was ‘Amazing!’ and soon they were swapping notes about the plays they’d seen on Broadway and the West End. Phoebe couldn’t believe Lily had actually seen Arathula Dane in Macbeth. Even Gemma seemed impressed.

  ‘What was she like?’ demanded Gemma, speaking for the first time since Lily had sat down.

  ‘Amazing,’ replied Lily. ‘I never thought I’d feel sorry for Lady Macbeth but the Dane made her so human and real. I mean you could totally see how Lady Macbeth went from this ruthless, ambitious woman, to really hating what she’d done.’

  ‘I’d adore to see the Dane do the “Mad” scene,’ sighed Phoebe.

  ‘Maybe we could ask her,’ suggested Gemma.

  They were still talking about how they might pull this off when Max arrived.

  ‘Nice to see you roomies getting along,’ he said, smiling at them. ‘Hey, Lily, I was wondering if you wanted to run through the Dream with me after dinner tonight. I can book one of the rehearsal rooms and we can try out different roles.’

  Lily looked puzzled. ‘But aren’t you going to be Puck?’

  Max shrugged. ‘Maybe. I don’t know. The play hasn’t been cast yet, so no one knows what part we’ve got.’

  ‘But didn’t everyone choose their parts the other night? You know, after you all voted on the play?’

  They stared at her.

  ‘No way,’ said Gemma. ‘That was just people talking. We don’t get to choose – it’s up to the Dane to decide who gets which part, and that could take ages.’

  ‘Really?’ Lily felt a sudden surge of elation. Maybe she still had a chance at a good role. She might even have a shot at the Thorngold Trophy. If she won that, the Drake would have to let her stay . . .

  ‘I keep forgetting you missed orientation,’ said Phoebe, pulling Lily abruptly out of her daydream, ‘but that’s when they explained that –’

  ‘– that any play we do, we have to workshop it first,’ cut in Gemma.

  ‘But at summer school –’ began Lily.

  Max interrupted. ‘Summer school’s different. It’s only two weeks total, so there isn’t time to work on the play in the same way.’

  ‘You wait,’ said
Gemma. ‘We’ll probably spend a whole month reading the Dream, rehearsing the Dream, dissecting the Dream, walking it through –’

  ‘All without being assigned a permanent role,’ said Max. ‘Lots of amateur productions do it that way, but it’s kind of frustrating.’

  ‘Oh no, Max,’ cried Phoebe. ‘It’s wonderful! I love trying out all the different parts and reading the background material and imagining what it must have been like in Shakespeare’s day and –’

  ‘Imagining yourself as Titania,’ cut in Max waspishly. Then, seeing Phoebe’s face fall, he added in a kinder voice, ‘Which I’m sure you will be, ’cause you’d be perfect as the fairy queen.’

  ‘And you could be Oberon, Max,’ said Gemma. ‘King of the fairies! You’d be a great fairy k–’ she broke off as she saw Max’s brows snap together. ‘I didn’t mean –’ she began, blushing fierily as she realised her faux pas. ‘It’s just that . . . I’m sure the Dane has you in mind for it,’ she finished lamely.

  ‘And I’m sure she’s not the only one,’ said Max sweetly. ‘But, actually, I rather fancy myself as Lysander or Demetrius.’

  ‘Not Demetrius, Max,’ protested Lily. ‘Not when he’s so mean to Helena.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Max, smiling. ‘I rather like the idea of playing against type.’

  They discussed the play until it was almost time for class. Max had to see Mrs Wilson about changing his elective so Lily headed for the locker room with Phoebe and Gemma. As she inserted her locker key, Lily looked across to where Gemma was sticking a signed picture of David Tennant on her locker. ‘Did you get that on Friday night?’ she asked, pointing at the photo.

  Gemma nodded. ‘It was amazing. He talked to us and everything.’ She sighed. ‘He’s even more gorgeous in real life and super nice. He signed an extra photo for me to give to Charlotte.’

  Lily looked over at Charlotte’s locker. It was covered in West End playbills, all of them signed by famous actors, and in the centre she could see the autographed picture of David Tennant. She pulled open her own locker and picked up her signed copy of Ethan Hawke as Macbeth, her autographed Wicked program and the collection of tickets from the plays she’d seen on Broadway. She’d stick them up after class.

  ‘Come on,’ said Phoebe. ‘We don’t want to be late to Movement. I still haven’t recovered from the last lot of push-ups we got for being late.’

  ‘Dreyfuss is so tough,’ moaned Gemma. ‘I think it’s the Russian in him.’

  Lily took off her locket, carefully put it and her memorabilia into her locker and followed the girls to the studio.

  ‘Hurry up, people,’ called Mr Dreyfuss as they entered. ‘Effery-von to ze centre, please. Usual places. Quickly now.’

  As she hurried into position, Lily suddenly became aware of a group of half a dozen students standing in the far corner. She recognised three of them from the Depiction, but one in particular grabbed her attention.

  He stood a little apart, leaning against the wall, a sketchbook under one arm, watching them line up. He was rolling a stick of charcoal deftly back and forth across his fingers. When he saw Lily staring, Ronan grinned and winked at her. She felt herself blushing and quickly looked away.

  ‘Attention effery-von.’ Mr Dreyfuss waved the Pendragon students forward. ‘Ze Director has given permission for some of ze Pendragon students to draw our class today. Zeir task is to record ze moofink body. Your task is to remain relaxed, fluid and flexible.’ He frowned as several people giggled nervously. ‘I vant you all to forget zey are here. Empty ze mind and let ze body take control.’

  Lily did her best but it was hard not to feel as though Ronan’s eyes were on her every second. She knew that was nonsense when there were so many students in the room, but just the thought of him watching her – even for a minute – made her feel self-conscious.

  ‘Focus now, people,’ instructed Mr Dreyfuss. ‘Today ve are directing traffic! Effery-von find a space.’

  People moved quickly and Lily ran to the corner furthest away from Ronan.

  ‘You are all policeman directing traffic,’ called their teacher. ‘Begin!’

  As the class got underway, Lily tried to lose herself in the role as she always did. But, as she waved her arms at the imaginary cars and blew her pretend whistle, she could see Ronan on the other side of the room drawing Gemma. His focus was absolute and she felt a sudden twinge of envy at the thought of Gemma holding his attention like that.

  After several minutes of commentary and instruction, Mr Dreyfuss said, ‘Keep directing traffic, but now you are all lion tamers!’ He cracked an invisible whip at the nearest student, who jumped.

  Everyone changed stance and, as people moved about the room, the Dragons also moved, each of them finding a new subject to draw.

  Lily could see Ronan drawing Imran, his charcoal moving in long, sweeping strokes, and Imran talking to him out of the corner of his mouth while Ronan laughed in response.

  She tried to concentrate on the task at hand, imagining herself as a lion tamer with a steady stream of cars and motorbikes to manage, but the image of Ronan laughing with Imran kept forcing its way into her mind. Eventually she turned her back on them and tried to focus on making her body move with precision and intent.

  ‘Stop! Efferybody freeze!’ Serge Dreyfuss strode to the centre of the room and grabbed Rachel by the shoulders. ‘Vatch here!’ He pulled her shoulders back to open her chest and barked, ‘You see, you must be free in ze spine and chest,’ he shook Rachel a little, ‘and relaxed in ze neck. Ze moof alvays must come from ze centre. Nuzzing imposed from ze outside. Now you must find ze truth within!’ He let go of Rachel. ‘Try again!’ he commanded. ‘Only zis time you are a stripper directing traffic in Piccadilly Circus.’

  Several people laughed, but Lily felt her cheeks turning red. Pathetic! she thought. How are you ever going to make it as an actor if you can’t do a simple movement exercise without being embarrassed?

  But she could – usually. She’d never had a problem taking on a role – even an outrageous one – but then Ronan Carver had never been in the audience before.

  Lily shook herself in frustration. She must not let his presence stop her from performing. Ignore him and just get on with it, she told herself firmly.

  She glanced around the room. Over to her left, Charlotte was doing an excellent bump-and-grind as she waved her traffic through, and behind her Max was twerking madly while holding his imaginary vehicles in place. Phoebe was swaying her hips and Gemma seemed to be directing traffic as part of a pole dance. No one but Lily seemed inhibited by the Dragons’ presence.

  ‘So when do we start?’ asked Ronan.

  Lily spun round, her cheeks flaming. He was leaning against the wall beside her, spinning his stick of charcoal between his thumb and forefinger.

  ‘We?’ she said, arching an eyebrow at him and trying to sound nonchalant.

  ‘Sure,’ he replied, smiling lazily. ‘I’m drawing and you’re meant to be directing traffic.’

  ‘I don’t want –’

  ‘Better hurry up,’ said Ronan, ‘the angry Russian is heading your way.’

  Lily looked over her shoulder and saw Mr Dreyfuss coming towards her. She instantly held up her hand in a stopping gesture, pointed her toe, then bent forward and slowly drew both hands up one leg. She spun round so that Ronan was out of her sight line and began sashaying across the floor, waving an imaginary car on with each thrust of her hip, before coming to a sudden halt. She held out both hands and then, finger by finger, languidly pulled off first one invisible glove and then the other.

  ‘Not bad,’ said Mr Dreyfuss, watching her. ‘Only, see if you can do it in less space.’

  She nodded and slowly pivoted, wiggled her hips and shoulders, and held up the traffic with both hands in front, her knees bent and her butt sticking out.

  ‘Very goot, Lily. Keep going,’ said her teacher and moved away.

  ‘I agree with the Russian,’ said Ronan, drawing rapi
dly. ‘You are very good.’

  ‘And you’re an expert, I suppose?’ said Lily through gritted teeth.

  ‘On traffic management? No,’ said Ronan, smudging his lines with a sooty finger. ‘But I have seen one or two burlesque shows – not including this one,’ he added with a smile.

  ‘This is not a burlesque show!’ shot back Lily. ‘It’s Movement.’

  ‘It sure is, and damn hard to capture on paper.’

  ‘Having trouble?’ she asked sweetly.

  Ronan examined his picture. ‘I’ve done better.’ He flipped a couple of pages. ‘For instance, this one of Gemma is loads better than the one of you.’

  Lily choked, but before she could think of a suitable answer, Mr Dreyfuss shouted, ‘Take a breather, people.’

  With a sigh of relief, she stopped moving and said crisply, ‘So you can trash that picture, then.’

  ‘The one of Gemma or the one of you?’ asked Ronan, his eyes gleaming wickedly.

  ‘The one of me, you sadist.’

  He flipped back to his picture of Lily. ‘I could do that, I guess. Only I don’t usually destroy a picture just because it sucks.’

  ‘Lucky you’ve got the one of Gemma,’ said Lily, trying unsuccessfully to keep the catty note out of her voice, ‘or this whole class would have been a waste of time.’

  ‘Very lucky,’ agreed Ronan. ‘She’s an excellent subject and she’d be great to paint. She’s got a really interesting face. Intriguing. I could do a lot with Gemma.’

  ‘So why don’t you, then? I’m sure she’d be thrilled!’ snapped Lily.

  ‘Well, if you think it’s a good idea, I might ask her.’

  Lily hunched a shoulder. ‘Go ahead. I don’t care who you draw.’