their auditions.’ She pats my hand. ‘You’re a good boy really. Much as you try to hide it.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure.’
‘I would. Ah! This must be her.’
I hear soft footsteps outside.
‘No high heels?’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘This is a first. She must be tall.’
But the girl who walks into the audition room isn’t especially tall. She’s the most ordinary girl I’ve seen all day. And yet I can’t help staring at her.
Soft, wavy brown hair. A slim, willowy body. Jeans, t-shirt and Converse. Ordinary. But utterly exceptional.
Sophia returns my stare with large, brown eyes and I’m nearly knocked off my chair.
There’s an innocence and goodness to her that is captivating. Just captivating.
I feel my jaw tighten.
Sophia watches me, but not in the usual way women do. Her eyes aren’t large or flirtatious and she isn’t smiling suggestively. She looks … surprised. Like we’ve met before and she isn’t expecting to see me.
I introduce Denise and myself.
Sophia tells us her name.
She looks so vulnerable, all alone in the audition room.
Some crazy part of me wants to take her in my arms.
Christ, what is wrong with me?
Sophia tells us she will play Lady Macbeth.
‘Ah,’ I say. ‘The evil lady of Shakespeare.’
‘Oh no,’ Sophia says. ‘She’s not evil. No one is wholly evil. Even bad characters have light in them.’
I feel a flicker in my chest.
Light.
People so rarely talk back to me. And certainly never anyone I’ve auditioned for the college. I feel a swell of respect for this sweet, young actress.
Sophia does her audition – a beautiful rendition of Lady Macbeth. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen, as a matter of fact.
I am mesmerised. I don’t want her to leave.
At the grand age of twenty-seven, I thought I knew myself. But I don’t. Because I’ve never felt like this before.
When Sophia finishes her audition, I hear Denise clapping.
I don’t clap. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I am rooted to the spot.
I sense Sophia takes this as disapproval, and she heads towards the door, thanking us for our time.
‘Miss Rose,’ I bark.
Sophia’s hand falters on the door handle.
I want to tell her the audition was beautiful. That I’ve never seen so young a woman add such depth to a character. That her ability to show emotion is incredible. And … and …
‘Light and dark,’ I say. ‘Is that what you believe? The good in everybody?’
‘Yes,’ she says.
I grip my pen so tight I can feel my pulse racing.
‘Thank you for your performance,’ I say. ‘I enjoyed it very much.’
When Sophia leaves, there is emptiness. And I become me again. Dark. Empty. Alone. Exactly the way it should be.
30
‘You liked her, didn’t you?’ asks Denise.
I snap my eyes from the door, chasing away images of Sophia Rose surrounded by light.
‘She was … good. But they’re all good.’ I’m still gripping my pen. ‘When does the next one arrive?’
Denise gives me a knowing smile. ‘ Good Marc Blackwell? Who are you fooling? Not me. She was exceptional and you know it.’
‘She’s too young to be exceptional.’
‘Oh stop it. You must have seen what I just saw in that girl. The openness. The vulnerability. That raw emotion. Quite outstanding.’
‘I already told you she was good.’
‘So she’s in?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Marc—’
‘She’s far too young, for one thing.’
‘It’s not about age. It’s about maturity. Which she had in spades. She reminded me of you, as a matter of fact. Old beyond her years. And Marc – if you only knew about her family. Her mother died when she was young. She’s had to care for her father and a young brother. She needs Ivy College more than anyone.’
‘That girl is never going to go hungry.’
‘Then why wouldn’t we want her?’
‘Because—’
But I can’t answer. There is no reason. Except for the emotions that exploded when she walked into the room. I can’t explain to Denise that
‘I wouldn’t be so sure.’
‘I would. Ah! This must be her.’
I hear soft footsteps outside.
‘No high heels?’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘This is a first. She must be tall.’
But the girl who walks into the audition room isn’t especially tall. She’s the most ordinary girl I’ve seen all day. And yet I can’t help staring at her.
Soft, wavy brown hair. A slim, willowy body. Jeans, t-shirt and Converse. Ordinary. But utterly exceptional.
Sophia returns my stare with large, brown eyes and I’m nearly knocked off my chair.
There’s an innocence and goodness to her that is captivating. Just captivating.
I feel my jaw tighten.
Sophia watches me, but not in the usual way women do. Her eyes aren’t large or flirtatious and she isn’t smiling suggestively. She looks … surprised. Like we’ve met before and she isn’t expecting to see me.
I introduce Denise and myself.
Sophia tells us her name.
She looks so vulnerable, all alone in the audition room.
Some crazy part of me wants to take her in my arms.
Christ, what is wrong with me?
Sophia tells us she will play Lady Macbeth.
‘Ah,’ I say. ‘The evil lady of Shakespeare.’
‘Oh no,’ Sophia says. ‘She’s not evil. No one is wholly evil. Even bad characters have light in them.’
I feel a flicker in my chest.
Light.
People so rarely talk back to me. And certainly never anyone I’ve auditioned for the college. I feel a swell of respect for this sweet, young actress.
Sophia does her audition – a beautiful rendition of Lady Macbeth. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen, as a matter of fact.
I am mesmerised. I don’t want her to leave.
At the grand age of twenty-seven, I thought I knew myself. But I don’t. Because I’ve never felt like this before.
When Sophia finishes her audition, I hear Denise clapping.
I don’t clap. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I am rooted to the spot.
I sense Sophia takes this as disapproval, and she heads towards the door, thanking us for our time.
‘Miss Rose,’ I bark.
Sophia’s hand falters on the door handle.
I want to tell her the audition was beautiful. That I’ve never seen so young a woman add such depth to a character. That her ability to show emotion is incredible. And … and …
‘Light and dark,’ I say. ‘Is that what you believe? The good in everybody?’
‘Yes,’ she says.
I grip my pen so tight I can feel my pulse racing.
‘Thank you for your performance,’ I say. ‘I enjoyed it very much.’
When Sophia leaves, there is emptiness. And I become me again. Dark. Empty. Alone. Exactly the way it should be.
30
‘You liked her, didn’t you?’ asks Denise.
I snap my eyes from the door, chasing away images of Sophia Rose surrounded by light.
‘She was … good. But they’re all good.’ I’m still gripping my pen. ‘When does the next one arrive?’
Denise gives me a knowing smile. ‘ Good Marc Blackwell? Who are you fooling? Not me. She was exceptional and you know it.’
‘She’s too young to be exceptional.’
‘Oh stop it. You must have seen what I just saw in that girl. The openness. The vulnerability. That raw emotion. Quite outstanding.’
‘I already told you she was good.’
‘So she’s in?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Marc—’
‘She’s far too young, for one thing.’
‘It’s not about age. It’s about maturity. Which she had in spades. She reminded me of you, as a matter of fact. Old beyond her years. And Marc – if you only knew about her family. Her mother died when she was young. She’s had to care for her father and a young brother. She needs Ivy College more than anyone.’
‘That girl is never going to go hungry.’
‘Then why wouldn’t we want her?’
‘Because—’
But I can’t answer. There is no reason. Except for the emotions that exploded when she walked into the room. I can’t explain to Denise that
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