Tony: the argument

[set in January 2002 – Rushton is 77]

There was little Rushton had to say that morning.  Late January, with frost on the grass.  Pamela seemed to be disturbed by something – the weather, was it?  Cold and grey, as usual.  He sat down to breakfast, fed the dog some chocolates, and leafed through the morning paper.

“I just looked in the cupboard under the stairs.”  Pamela came into the room, carrying some old magazines.  “There’s so much in there.  I can’t see how we’re ever going to sort everything out.  I mean everything that isn’t needed.”

He was not happy.  Sorting out was all too much on his mind.  What was needed, when it came to it?  He lowered his newspaper, and spoke sourly –

“As if there wasn’t enough to do already.”

Pamela looked hurt, but seemed minded to go on.

“But, well ...  who will do it, all our stuff, when we’re ...”  She paused, significantly.

This was too close to the bone, and at this time of the day, especially.  Rushton slapped the newspaper on the table.  The dog leapt up from her bed, with an alarmed barking.

“I’ve just about had enough!”  Why was he saying this, he asked himself?  “You go on and on these days, about tidying up and sorting out - moaning about this, moaning about that!”

There were tears in her eyes, though she was stung, also, by his words.

“That’s unkind, John.”

But he seemed committed, at whatever cost, to having his say.

“There’s no peace here anymore – I always seem to be under your feet ...”  He swept his hand over his face and looked at the table, laid ready for breakfast.  “I’ll just have to go away ... stay somewhere else ...”

She could scarcely believe his words.  After all that she had done to help him, almost to nurse him through the worst days of his depression ...  Now he was threatening her with something she feared more than anything else – to be left alone.

“Why?  Why are you saying this?”  She looked at him, expecting to find his face a mask of anger.  But no, he sat still now, his eyes gazing vaguely ahead, his face white and haggard.  The dog was licking his hand – he looked down.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured eventually.  Was he in tears?  Perhaps, yet in the trembling of his hand, as she watched him absently fondling the dog’s ears, there was something beyond tears, something beyond life itself.  He seemed lost in a private desolation.

The “sub-text” here is that Rushton knows he is dying, but does not want to alarm his wife, who nevertheless wonders at the cause of his excessive anger.

Tony: the Rushtons' "dislike"

[set in the early 1950s – Rushton and his wife Pamela, recently married, are living with Rushton’s parents]

Christmas Day was pleasant enough in those days, particularly with the novelty of shared presents, which were still sometimes addressed, rather self-consciously, to “the happy couple”.  Yet as the festive mood faded, and energy with it, there came the annual ritual which Rushton and his new wife dreaded more than most events in the year – the arrival of his sister Elaine, her husband Jolyon and their three girls.  They would subsequently invite the Rushton household back to their own home for a post-Christmas party.

It was not that Rushton felt the slightest animosity towards them.  On the contrary, he and Jolyon often joked together, and played at mimicry and making up absurd characters and stories.  Christmas, however, seemed to impose on Rushton’s brother-in-law the necessity of making his mark as a society host, of entertaining in a self-conscious, indeed self-reverential, manner.  As for Elaine, her natural effusiveness craved for some kind of outlet, which Christmas, of all times of the year, provided in abundance, and the three girls were more than willing accomplices in her efforts.

Pamela looked gloomy.  Rushton guessed why.  “Managed to get yourself a headache yet?” he quipped.  “I suppose I’ll have to go and face them alone.”

“That’s not really fair”, she replied, with a slight pout of her mouth.  “You’ve often ended up with a bad head yourself.”

She was wearing the light blue polka dot dress he had given her for Christmas.  Did it suit her?  He could not decide.

“Alright, I’ll come down with you,” she smiled.

They descended the stairs to his parents’ living room, just as a loud crash at the front door announced the opening of festivities.  The arrival of Elaine was an event in itself, setting Christmas cards swaying and flapping on the mantelpiece as she flowed in with her large contingent of long-haired, snuffling Pekinese dogs. 

“Hello!”  “Hello!”  Behind Elaine, affable and agreeable, Jolyon trotted nonchalantly, his wide mouth smiling broadly, as he flicked the ash from a prodigiously large cigar.

“You found the champagne?  Good!  Good!” he purred, fingering the lapels of his brand new jacket.  “You must come back for afters, and, of course, the world premiere!”

It was only to be expected.  Being a professional film cameraman himself, he was never averse to turning the lens upon his own family’s exploits, and what better time than Christmas to act as master of ceremonies and expert commentator upon his extensive home movies?  Yet this would only be the centrepiece of proceedings.  Beforehand, the three girls would entertain the Rushtons with charades.

It was the films which were most deeply engraved upon Rushton’s memory.  The projector would be set up in the lounge, the chairs arranged beneath it, a large white screen at the front.  Jolyon, with some kind of controller which he caressed lovingly in his hand, would introduce the latest holiday footage, a barrage of smiling faces and holiday skies.  Pamela would sit, red-faced, smiling, stifling her yawns, whilst Rushton, nursing a Pekinese on his lap, would make suitable responses as required.

"Now Rome", Jolyon frowned, "was a bore!"

"Of course!" Rushton smiled ironically,  "the ruins, the paintings ...."

"The traffic!" Jolyon simpered.  "Couldn't hear myself speak!"

This, Rushton reflected, would have made a change.

Sandra: The argument

Sarah stormed into May's kitchen and dropped her empty coffee mug into the sink, causing it to shatter into a thousand pieces.  May startled by the noise left her ironing and  went to investigate.
'Oh Sarah', she exclaimed 'Not another one of my poppy mugs. That's the second one this week'.
'Yes well, it wasn't me that broke the first one was it?' Sarah glared at May.
'If you do not want me here you just have to say the word and I will go. No doubt Mum and Carl will put me up in exchange for me cleaning up their mess!  You can live here happily with your poppy mugs and your brass ornaments and those two stupid old men'.
'Sarah', May clearly shaken by the outburst looked at her grandaughter. 'What on earth has got into you?'
May walked towards Sarah intending to give her a hug but Sarah turned her back on her.  Sarah's shouders were visibly shaking and May knew she was crying.
'Sarah', she said more gently this time. 'Just tell me whats wrong. Why are you so upset and angry with me?'
Sarah flashed her eyes at her Gran, 'You are such a fraud,' she  shouted 'Making out you care about everyone when really the only person you care about is yourself.  I am sick and tired of living in a house full of geriatrics.  One of whom has been in my room again by the way'
'I told you to keep your door locked Sarah. You know I have tried telling the pair of them that they must not go into your room.  The trouble is the poor dears forget what has been said five minutes after they have been told. What's missing this time'?
'It doesn't matter whats missing does it? They have no business being in there at all'. Sarah replied.
May was beginning to lose patience with Sarah. 'Just tell me what's missing and I will search their rooms for it.  If I can't find it I will replace it'.
'I told you Gran, it doesn't matter. just forget it' Sarah picked up her coat from where she had flung it earlier 'I am going for a walk, I will see you later'.
May sighed and shook her head. 'Teenage girls, all that passion, all those hormones'. She found some newspaper and cleared up the remains of the mug, then returned wearily to her ironing.

========================================================================
May is unaware that the missing item from Sarah's room is a pregnancy test kit. Sarah loves May dearly and does not know how to tell her that she might be pregnant. She hits out at May but is really angry with herself for getting into this predicament.

Sue: Argument/Clash

“You promised me you would be home by eight this evening, so that for once, we could sit down for a proper meal together. I finished work early, shopped, and cooked your favourite meal. You’ve finally waltzed in, two hours late, and all you care about is pouring yourself a drink. ” Sara’s voice was matched by her stance, aggressive with a slight tinge of martyr.

Mike sighed. “I’m sorry darling, I got caught up in a late meeting. I did actually make my apologies and leave before the others to rush for the train but for once it was on time and I missed it by a minute. It’s not too late for dinner, we can still eat together.”

His pleading voice seemed to have no effect upon Sara, who launched into a diatribe of his faults. As she cited the number of times he had put work before her, he realised he was on the back foot and tried another tack. “ You’ve hardly been here for me of recent times, I can’t run my timetable to fit with your erratic work schedule.” For an instant, it worked. Sara looked deflated and slightly contrite, she paused; then gave him a strange look before returning to her tirade. “ You promised to support me, we knew that when I went back to work, I would have to give it my all to get back up the ladder.  You promised to do your bit around the house, that we’d take it in turns to shop and cook, and that we would both try to make time for each other. You never cook, I can’t remember the last time you did any housework and I always come last on your busy agenda. You said you would be back by eight and once again you have let me down. The dinner is ruined and it’s all your fault”.

Mike was unsure of his next move. He was torn between guilt, a wish to counter her list with one of his own and the need to restore some degree of harmony between them. Perhaps he could cite the number of times she had changed arrangements at the last minute, neglected him and put her own work first ..

Subtext – Sara and Mike are both having extra-marital affairs but do not suspect each other, as they are too busy trying to cover their own tracks.

Ros - Arguement

Holly turned away forlornly.  She knew that once her mother had made up her mind there was no turning back.  She had been surprised at her mother's vehemence.  After all she was only proposing to go to a local club with Marie, on a Friday night.  It wasn't as if they were planning to go to London and she would be quite happy to agree to be home early.  She just wanted to go to see what it was like, to experience what all the other girls were talking about, to feel something like normal  for once.

She wasn't aware that her step-father had heard the conversaton until he addressed her mother.

"That was a bit hard Caro, wasn't it?" Neil spoke quietly.

"What do you mean?"  Caroline retorted.

"Holly's sixteen.  It wouldn't do any harm if she went out now and then, specially when Marie would go with her."

"Since when is Holly's social life your business.  Just butt out, Neil."

"Caro, you know I don't usually interfere but I just think on this occasion you may have over reacted,  just a tad", Neil replied mildly.

Caroline stared at ther husband hard.  For a moment it seemed that she might be going to relent, that she had heard what he said and was inclined to agree with him, but the moment past and she launched forth.

"I don't trust that Marie one bit.  If it wasn't for her Holly wouldn't have had this clubbing idea in the first place.  You know the kind of girls who go to these clubs and what about the men who hang out there?  We've seen girls, with dresses up to their thighs and men of all ages ogling them, queuing outside Jacky's in town.  Maureen told me that her daughter, Lana,  had her drink spiked and had to be taken to A and E to be pumped out.  Is that what you want for Holly?  If something can happen to Lana who can see, what chance has Holly got? "

"I think you are being over dramatic, Caro.  The girls just want to have some fun, to meet their friends and dance. My colleagues often tell me that they go and collect their daughters at the end of the evening and no harm seems to come to them. I believe that most of the time they all stick together and don't even have much to do with the boys. Holly has got to learn to live in the world sometime.   Marie is very sensible.  She'll look out for Holly"

Caroline, hands on hips,  looked at her husband quizzically.  This insistence wasn't his usual style.  He was normally quite happy for her to deal with Holly and yet here he was sticking up for her and Marie.

"You seem to feel very strongly about this."

"Well, not reallly", replied Neil backing down, sensing that he was getting in deeper than he had planned."I just think it would be nice for Holly to go out occasionally",  he added lamely.

"She does go out.   We are all going to the cinema tomorrow, or have you forgotten?"

Neil sighed and retreated behind his newspaper.  He was glad that Marie was not about to witness his pathetic performance.

Hilary week 9 - conflict conversations

Note from Hilary - You really need to have read week eight What Ellen hates most' for this to make more sense!'




As Ellen put down the phone her mind was trying to formulate the conversation she would have with Jason on his return from work.


She had to make him think that Carrie's accident was less serious than it was,  or it would ruin the break she had so carefully arranged for them. It had rubbed the enjoyment off the surprise. It was just so unfair that throughout all the subterfuge, she had not once let it slip that they were going to spend a fabulous weekend with Jonathan and his new girlfriend in their apartment in one of the Haussmanian buildings in western Paris. And now darling Carrie had rained on her parade yet again.


She had worked so hard to arrange this trip. Jonathan had finally given in to her pleading and, possibly because he also wanted to show Ellen that he could still gain the attention of an attractive woman after the separation from her which had left him so desolate, he had invited them to stay.


She knew that she and Jonathan would never work because of the man he was.  He had wealth , charm and a good heart. His wealth was not inherited but accrued through the sale of his fantastic sculptures which had, for a while made him the toast of the London art establishment.  Jonathan was far too amenable and far too attractive and although he had worshipped her, she knew that one day, way in the future, when she became less attractive, someone else would make a play for him, and probably succeed.


At five o'clock,Jason opened the front door; his tall, elegant frame reaching  to hang his coat on the equally elegant, but oversized, Edwardian hall stand which took up half the space in the large hallway. Dropping his briefcase to the hall floor, he stepped through the ornately painted kitchen doorway into the large kitchen where Ellen was sitting peeling prawns at the oak table, wearing a green pinafore with 'Talk to the Hand' printed in large red letters on  it.


" How's things?" Jason picked up the kettle and turned to the sink. He always said the same thing as soon as he saw Ellen. Partly this irritated her, but she also liked the sense of continuity and belonging that it evoked. 


" Fine" she responded. " Just a little thing, but nothing to worry about, Carrie's in hospital." 


Jason turned from the sink to face her.


" What do you mean? Why? What's wrong ? "   The questions came at her like sharp, little needles. 


She had to take a deep breath to calm herself before she countered " It's really nothing, Sadie's with her. They think she'll be out in a couple of days".


" Well, what the hell happened? Why is she in hospital? We'd better get up there."


" No. No need, Sadie is with her and she's fine. " Ellen was fighting to keep her voice calm.


"Anyway, after supper let's talk about this weekend, we have a lot........." Ellen was cut short by Jason's insistent voice.  "Fine, but before we talk about it, I really think we should go see Carrie. Just to put your mind at rest El." 


"Sadie is with her!" Ellen almost spat the remark at Jason, then quietly she spoke again. " You know how difficult my relationship can be with Carrie, she would rather have Sadie than me - or you". She gently stroked the sleeve of Jason's shirt and whispered in his ear. " Let's talk about the weekend. You are just going to love what I have done for us". 


As she led him by the hand through to the sitting room where she had laid out the Eurostar tickets, she looked at him and said " I love you, you know that don't you Jason?"


"Of course, but you still haven't told me what is wrong with Carrie." Jason looked perplexed as he spoke. 


" Darling - she just had a little accident. You know how she dramatises everything. Now come over and see what I have for you". As she spoke, she winked at Jason and led him slowly to the couch.


Subtext:


.............The daughter Carrie has begun an affair with Jason, her now ex-school teacher. Ellen does not suspect this but still has a feeling of fear when Jason mentions Carrie's name. She doesn't understand this feeling at all.

What Ellen hates the most - Hilary week 8

Ellen Danby is used to being admired. She has a charisma which sits like an aura around her. When she enters a room, men are instantly drawn to the deep blue eyes and dark, auburn hair which she always wears loose, curling in thick waves around her face. She has the ageless beauty that good bone structure seems to ensure;  high cheekbones and slim neck which belies her fifty years. Women find her a threat, even though she is in a relationship with Jason. No doubt this is enhanced because Jason is ten years younger than Ellen. This flags 'Danger' to any other woman who is herself in a fragile partnership. Insecurity shows itself in a variety of ways.Women will actually remove themselves physically from her presence and, place a firm hand through their husband's or partner's arm, steering them away in an animalistic show of territorial superiority. Such is their fear of this woman's allure.
Ellen is aware of this power and uses it shamelessly. If she does not command full attention at all times it worries and frustrates her.

 Ellen had just completed her daily run on the footpath which runs behind her house in Newland Park.As she stopped to re-tie her lace she smiled, remembering the sweaty young men who also completed this daily ritual and eyed her longingly. It was where she had met Jason her current partner.
" Partner in crime," she mused as she remembered the episode in the Knightsbridge shop a couple of weeks ago  " and we got away with it too." She giggled to herself as she opened the little gate at the rear of her garden and stepped up to the back door.

As she turned the key in the lock she could hear the phone in the hallway and raced to pick up the receiver.
"Mrs Danby?" a woman's voice came from the receiver before she lifted it to her ear. The voice was officious and Ellen immediately stiffened.

"Yes - who is this?" Ellen had the sinking feeling that it was the police. " Oh hell, they had CCTV, they've recognised me from it. I knew it, we had just too much fun for it not to have consequences. "

A panic rose in her stomach as she remembered the ridiculously easy theft from the Knightsbridge shoe shop. A silly schoolgirl -like dare, now threatening to ruin her life. The Louboutin shoes had sat in her hallway ever since she got back from the weekend, as a reminder of this funny prank that Jason had suggested and she had agreed to, now they were evidence of her stupidity.

The voice on the other end of the phone broke into her thoughts like a shard of glass.

" This is the Northbridge hospital Mrs Danby.  I'm afraid I will have to ask you to get here as soon as you can. Your daughter has had an accident". There was a slight but significant pause before she added,  " with some pills"

" I have three daughters, what's her name?"
Ellen knew exactly which daughter it was, but she needed to play for some time in order to calm the rising anger that started to well up in her.

" It's Carrie, Mrs Danby." this time there was a sensitivity in the nurses voice. " We can explain a little more - when you get here" she said gently.

"I'm afraid I can't come in right now" Ellen said briskly " I will contact my other daughters. One of them will come in shortly I'm sure"

"Mrs Danby, your daughter is very poorly! " The nurse was obviously concerned at the seemingly cool response.

" Sorry, I can't, I will tell the girls and someone will be there soon."  Ellen slammed the phone down.

She felt a strange mix of anger, fear and shock flowing through her body. Angry because once again, Carrie had stolen her thunder. She knew that Jason would be so concerned about Carrie when he returned from school that he would immediately contact the hospital.  They were due to catch a train to Paris the next day to celebrate their one year anniversary. Now, once again, Carrie had spoiled her mother's adventure.

The fear was a strange emotion. She could not work out where it was coming from or why. She had always been strong, since those early days in the home when she had needed to fight to make her way in the world. Now she was experiencing something she had not felt since her mother was taken away when she was four. That terrible day and those awful feelings were seared into her brain, and it shocked her that she was again experiencing them.

" That little bitch," she thought " she's done it again." And she immediately raised the phone to call Sadie.









>...........................................attempted suicide of Carrie. How will this affect Ellens sense of perspective?. Will she finally put someone else at the centre of her world, and will this last? Does she really hate not being the centre, what has caused this resentment of anyone else getting the limelight?

Week 9--Peter--Character Conflict

Above Russell Bay, the sky lay - a vast blue dome .   On the horizon, menacing clouds were gathering .  To the west, the icy cliffs of Cape Wilson ran like a gleaming white crocodile out into the sombre blue waters where icebergs in the distance drifted like fantastic cathedrals .  On the other side of the bay, grey craggy mountains stood monolithic, covered with carpets of snow .  SS RADEX EXPLORER stood at anchor a mile offshore . 

Near the pebbled beach the long, timbered roof of the HF depot was just visible above the drifts of snow .  The high wire fence that lay around ripped open with gaping holes .   The once neatly ordered crates and barrels were cast around in wild confusion .   Lying on a scrambled array of metal pipes, a polar bear lay motionless,  blood seeping out of its stomach and staining the snow a ruby red .   Another lay crumpled by the small generator house and Arctic fox hung on the fence like washing blowing in the pitiless wind.

Inside the depot, Construction Engineer Gerald F Haldane sat in his office in despair, one hand supporting his chin, the other close to a mobile phone, frozen by indecision .  Shouts and bangs broke into his reverie .  Haldane listened for a moment, got up angrily and wrenched open the door.

“What the hell is going on here!”

Two burly operatives in oilskin coats and snow-bespattered hoods were struggling with a teenage boy, who was kicking and shoving and trying in vain to break free.

“Sorry, Gerry found this kid tampering with the generator plant.”

“Let me go .   Let me go .  You’ve no right to hold me here.”

Haldane eyed the boy .  A man quick to judgement he was at the end of his tether .  “Tie him up and put him in the storeroom”, he almost snarled .  Ned, trussed up like a dead turkey, was thrown onto floor and, as the door banged behind him, was engulfed in gloom.

Back in his office, Gerry Haldane finally, almost with relief, seized the phone.

“Good morning, boss.  We’ve found a kid .  In the generator room.”  Haldane paused .  His voice full of surprise when he continued. “Part of the attack on the depot?  I don’t think so, boss .  No, it was about a dozen bears and foxes .  No people involved at all, as far as we could see .  Beretti was on duty, yes .  Knocked unconscious .  Hasn’t come too, yet .   They tried to batter their way into the operations room but we shot two of them .  No, we didn’t frighten them off .  No, there was a long, low whistle and they all suddenly retreated .  The place is in chaos .  Yes, boss .  I’ll get Denton and Reeves to bring him out immediately .  Yes, sir.”  

Fifteen minutes later Ned found himself being marched out across the jetty and, handcuffed, sat in the stern of a small motorboat, which began to chug its way slowing across the bay .  An icy breeze blew against his face as the prow of the boat cut its way through bits of brash ice that floated about like confetti .  As he looked around he could see a flock of black and white petrels bobbing on the water not far away.

There were shouts from SS RADEX EXPLORER and a metal ladder was lowered down the bulwark as they approached the vessel .   Ned was led up onto the main deck by Denton .  Two sailors grabbed his shoulders and he was marched across the deck to the foc’sle.

The warm cabin he entered was like a small laboratory .   Long tables ran down the centre, crowded  with bottles in wooden supports, test tubes, flickering meters  and computers .  Several men in white coats were studying graphs, photographs and charts.

Bob Newington’s office was in a small attached room .   A short, stocky, balding man with a broad bespectacled face, he sat importantly behind a neat desk. .  “Take the handcuffs off him Bailey” he ordered “and leave us.”

Bailey blew hard with surprise and rolled his eyes but did as he was told .   

Seated, rubbing his wrists, Ned stared about him .   The walls were covered with charts.

“Now, young man,” said Newington in a low, determined voice .  “What is this all about?”

Ned remained silent, turned his head to one side sullenly and stared blankly at the wall..

There was silence for a moment but Newington, quite unperturbed, continued “Well, let me tell you why we are here.”  Ned looked across at him, almost impertinently, as good as to say ‘Don’t bother .  I know the answer.”

Bob Newington almost read his mind .  “You’re quite wrong,” he said calmly .  “This is a scientific survey on behalf of the Arctic Exploration Association .   Our task is to measure the age of the ice on this island and study the geology .  Furthermore  we have been instructed by the Government of Finland to examine the dormant volcano Mt . Houdenc.

Ned was listening intently now .   “You are not exploring for oil?”  The note of surprise in his voice did not go undetected by the boss, who shook his head emphatically .      

“Not at all .  Our presence here is entirely for scientific purposes, and when we have completed all our tests and gathered the data we seek, we shall leave .  Now are you ready to answer this question ?  How and why are you here?”

Still wary, Ned raised his head. “You won’t believe my answer to your first question”, he said, shaking his head.

“Try me.”

“I was on a pier in Northern Ireland .  A girl called Maisie took a photograph and moments later I found myself here on Bering’s Island.”

Newington scrutinized Ned for a moment, trying to control the anger that was surging up within him .  His diplomatic tone was now abandoned.. “Don’t be funny with me son”, he rasped in a low menacing tone.

“See, I told you  that you wouldn’t believe me.”  Ned was almost jeering.

“Of course, I don’t.” Newington said angrily .  “You’ll be telling me next that you organized the polar bear attack on our depot.”

“Yes, I did – with the help of Nochoska.”

“Nochoska!”

“My polar bear friend.”

Bob Newington was livid .  His patience exhausted .   “Bailey, Timson!” He roared .  The two burly sailors burst in and grabbed Ned.  “Get this lunatic out of here and lock him up in the spare cabin.”

*********

  

Julie - Argument

Cassie bounded into the kitchen, expecting to see David finishing his breakfast; instead, Helen was sitting at the round, glass table, drinking a cup of tea.

‘Where’s Dad?’ Cassie asked, ‘Is he ready to take me to look round the college?’

Helen lowered her cup and shook her head.  ‘Sorry, love, he didn’t come home last night.  He had to stay in Birmingham because he didn’t get his work finished yesterday.’

Cassie was devastated.  She had been looking forward all week to visiting Norbridge College, where she planned to start a Secretarial course in September, and her father had promised to take her to the Open Day.

‘What about me?  What am I supposed to do?’ she whined.

‘Don’t worry, Cass, I’m going to take you.’

‘Oh, great,’ replied Cassie, ‘Now I am worried!’  Helen’s driving was legendary, for all the wrong reasons. 

‘Well, I thought you might be grateful.’

‘Why is Dad never here?’ Cassie said, ignoring her.  ‘I’m so fed up with him saying he’ll pick me up from parties and then he doesn’t turn up and you have to do it.  He’s such a let-down.’

‘Perhaps you might consider how I feel in all this,’ Helen replied, sarcastically. 

‘You’re used to it.  I’m only 16; he’s my Dad.  I believe him when he says things.  Well, I did, not so much now.  I’m getting used to him never being here, and never doing what he says.’  Cassie was fighting back tears now, but Helen was becoming angry.

‘Cassie, you are being unreasonable.  You’ve no idea what that man has done for you.  He has to work.  He works hard so we can live here, and you can have the things you want.’

‘What I want is for him to be here more.  It isn’t fair.  When Greg was younger they used to do all sorts of stuff together.’

‘It was just fishing, Cassie – boys’ stuff.  He did take you once but you didn’t like it; you just felt sorry for the fish.  He did other things with you.  He used to take you to Fircombe on market day when they had the livestock markets and you used to like to look at all the animals.’

‘Well, we didn’t go much,’ Cassie said, stubbornly.  ‘He just doesn’t care about me.’

‘Of course he does,’ Helen shouted, becoming more and more exasperated on her husband’s behalf.  ‘He cares about you very much.  You’re so ungrateful, perhaps I won’t bother to take you to Norbridge either.’

‘Well, please yourself,’ Cassie retorted, and stomped out.

***

Cassie doesn’t realise David is not her real father.  Helen has always been worried that he favoured Cassie’s brother, Greg, because he was David’s natural son.

What neither of them know at this point is that David is having an affair…

Homework

Hi all
Here's a note of the homework.

Write a scene in which two characters clash, but for reasons that only one of them really knows. In other words, one of them is withholding something. Don’t say what the subtext is in the piece, but you can give the subtext in a note at the bottom.

Here are some examples that you can use - or you can make up your own:

Two people are having problems in their relationship. They argue. However, the real problem is that one of them is having an affair. Never make it clear that this is what is happening. Only you, and the character, know this.

One person is being bullied at work. They start taking days off sick. The boss calls them in for an explanation of their behaviour. They don't tell the boss what's wrong.

Good luck and see you next week.

Gary

character loss - Sheila

I had real problems with this, it virtually turned into a short story.  I have cut it down, but not really happy with it.

Homework character

All her life Joanna had wanted to be financially secure.  Business studies and hard work achieved this.  She projected the image of a successful business woman and actually ran a small, but very successful exclusive shop.  Her main products were fashion accessories, jewellery, and lather goods.  All were hand-made locally.  She had started her business while she worked for a large department store. 

Working days and evenings, and even a few nights, Joanna had built up her selection of suppliers.  She bought only the best, the prettiest, the most flamboyant, and she aimed high.  She had started selling on line, and then gone on to open a small shop in a well known part of London.  Her parents had helped her financially to set up the business, but she had done so well she had paid them back, and was making a profit.

Joanna met Tom one evening at a friend’s dinner party.  She had never been in love before and at 26 she fell hard.  He said he loved her.  He told her he was working as a reporter in London for an American paper.  He seemed to know everyone.  After meeting her parents, he introduced her to a pretty young woman, his sister, who was visiting.  Apparently their parents had died in a car accident some years earlier.

Three months later they were married, her parents, his sister and all their friends were present at the ceremony.  Their honeymoon was in Barbados.

They returned home in style, took a taxi to her flat, into which he had moved.  Joanna unlocked the door, opened it, and saw there was no furniture.  It was all gone, her beautiful furniture was gone.  She stood there stunned, then turned to look at Tom.  He comforted her, took her to a neighbour, then left to call the police.

Half an hour later, he had not returned, she was panicking, what was wrong.  Her neighbour went with her to her flat, the door was still open, Tom was gone.  Jo collapsed in confusion and her neighbour called the police instead. 

Two officers arrived, sat her in her neighbours living room, and talked.  While she was away, her shop had been vandalised, all the stock removed or smashed if too heavy.  A woman named Lucy, who was supposed to be Tom’s sister had told all the staff to go home, the business was closed.   Joanna, now really frightened, called her father and asked him to check her bank account and business account,  He rang back in a few minutes and told her the worst news she could have received.  Both her accounts had been hacked into, everything was gone, or spent.  Tom must have been using her cards all the time they were away, or his sister had used the ones she didn’t take.

Jo was very angry, frightened and confused.   Why did Tom do this? What was the point.   She had lost everything, her home contents, her business, her money, all gone.

What could she do?  She was nothing without her business. The police would try to find them, they said.

Her parents took her home with them, there was nothing left, but a pile of her personal belongings in the bedroom of her flat.  Her parents put everything into two suitcases left in the bedroom and took her, unresisting down to their car.

At her parents home, Joanna shut herself up in her old room, with it’s old single bed, to mourn her lost husband, lost love, and lost everything.  Her mother knocked tentatively on the door after a couple of hours, and found her curled up on the bed, holding a picture of Tom, which she was slowly shredding into tiny pieces.  Her mother told her the police were coming in about an hour to take a full statement from her.  She nodded, and looked up.

‘What am I going to do? He’s taken everything I had. He has removed all my money from the bank and maxed some of my credit cards.  He sacked my staff, and closed the shop.  The stock is ruined and has to be paid for, I think I am broke. Mum.  It took me 6 years to get to this stage.  I can’t do it again.  Why, Mum why?’

‘Tomorrow, we will go to the shop and see what we can salvage, your Dad has already spoken to the landlord, and informed him what has happened, and that you did not authorise trading to stop.  The rent is paid for another six months.’

‘Thank you mum, I am so frightened.  I have always been afraid of having nothing to live on, and now it has happened.  The flat is rented, I can’t pay for more furniture.’   She broke down in tears, her fears and her panic obvious to her mother.

Jo was inconsolable.  She was so angry that she had allowed herself to be taken in by Tom and his sister, or was she his sister?  She was hurt, she thought he loved her, but he had taken everything she possessed, and left her almost penniless.

Finally she fell asleep, and dreamed, of Tom, driving off with a big lorry carrying all her possessions, leaving her standing on the pavement, homeless and terrified.  He was shouting at her, ‘It’s your own fault, you deserved it, and it’s mine now.’  Joanna woke screaming at him, sweating and tearing at the sheets that had wrapped themselves around her.   She sat in the dark, sobbing, feeling sorry for herself. ‘I want my life back.’ She whispered.

ROS - WHAT CAROLINE DREADS

Caroline sensed that there was something different about Holly.  She couldn't quite put her finger on it because she was as ever quiet, polite and softly spoken  however Caroline observed that when Holly did speak, she did so with a new authority, which surprized her. There was of course Marie. Caroline had noticed that she was constantly glancing at Holly as if she too saw something different about her.  Marie was never short of words, even if they were the wrong ones.  She frequently deferred to Holly, drawing her into the conversation, encouraging her to express a view on every subject. Caroline recognised that she should have been pleased with her daughter's increasing confidence but she found that she wasn't.  She was used to Holly being a spectator in the family but now she was becoming a player, someone whose opinion counted, whose wishes could not be ignored.  Caroline was used to having things her own way and she didn't intend that to change.  But what had brought about this new situation she brooded?  Perhaps it was no more than Marie's presence and influence that had emboldened Holly. A temporary state of affairs.  Once Marie was gone the status quo would return.  But would it?  She feared that there might be something else afoot.  Something to which she was not privy.

Caroline might have gone on speculating for sometime if one evening she had not overheard the girls talking in Holly's bedroom.  Caroline was blessed with acute hearing ,and although their voices were hardly raised above a murmur, she identified a few words which made her pause and creep closer to the closed door. She justified eavesdropping to herself, as she always did when she was dealing with Holly, that it was for her own good.  She refused to listen to her better self which questioned her behaviour and her motivation, so different when it came to Holly, so - unfair?  Caroline swept such thoughts aside and strained to listen.

In the event Caroline was thwarted because the voice of Lady Gaga rose to drown out the girls' conversation.  But Caroline had heard enough to be alarmed.  The name that she had not allowed to  pass her lips or anyone else's for the past seventeen years had been spoken..  What did they know?  Worse still what did they  plan to do with what they knew? Was this the root of Holly's changed demeanour? She was in possession of  some knowledge which made her feel more powerful?  Caroline's mouth went dry and a knot formed in her stomach.  Her instinct was to want to confide in someone but she dismissed the notion  at once.  Whatever was about to happen she would have to deal with alone.  Perhaps it wasn't too late. She counselled herself to remain calm and to think things through.  After all she had been successful in keeping her past at bay all these years. Surely it wasn't beyond her wit to manage the situation? She couldn't, wouldn't,  allow her daughter and a meddling French au pair to upset her life, to overturn everything for which she had strived. Caroline turned on her heel, gathered herself together and descended the stairs as if everything was in perfect order. But in her head there was a state of turmoil and fear such as she had never experienced before.

Sue: Inflict pressure..

Charlotte was still reeling from the success of her debut solo act. Last night, the audience had collectively held their breath, gasped, laughed and applauded in all the right places. It was one of the best moments of her life. To cap it off, after the show, she and Martin had been invited back to Sam and Chloe’s trailer for a drink. This simple invite was their long awaited symbol of full acceptance into the heart of the circus community.

She peeped out from the sidelines to observe and gauge the mood of tonight’s audience.  This was rapidly followed by double, treble, then multiple re-takes, as she tried in vain to find ways in which to deny, erase, or change what she saw. They should have been three hundred miles away, but sitting just three rows from the front, were her parents, brother and two nieces. Her separate worlds had just collided.

Her first feelings were of shame and fear; she absolutely did not want her family to know that she had joined the circus. The reflection of herself performing, recast through her family’s eyes, instantly made her feel out of place and ridiculous.  They must not see her in a sequinned leotard and heavy stage make up. They must not know that she had lied to them and was here, not in London at a General Dental Council conference. There was no way she could go out there and perform this evening. Almost simultaneously, she realised the potential enormity of what would happen if she did not perform. She would lose the respect and acceptance of her circus family. She may never again be trusted to deliver a solo act, nor experience the joy of and instant feedback of audience applause.

To cope with the whirling maelstrom of her thoughts and feelings, Charlotte instinctively defaulted to her comfort habit of making lists. If she could assess the pros and cons of her options, she would be able to find a logical way to decide what to do.

Fifteen minutes later and with only ten more to go before she was due to step into the ring, Charlotte’s lists had grown unwieldy but gave her no clear answers. She realised that her attempts to bridge both worlds had resulted in conflicting tensions and an overall feeling of displacement and transience within each world. 

The only things she knew for sure were that Martin would back her, whatever the decision...and that she was not ready to make a decision.

What mattered most? The judgements of her parents, family, peers and inbred sense of what was appropriate, or her new “family”, the joy of performing and audience feedback, and an opportunity to break free from societal norms?  What did she actually want?

She wanted approval, respect, acceptance and a sense of belonging to both of her very different worlds. She wanted status, financial security and to feel successful. She wanted freedom and the constant flexibility to make her own choices, with no adverse consequences.

Whatever she did next, there would be adverse consequences.

Out of nowhere, an expression much used by the performers, which had shocked her when she first heard it, came into her mind. “Tits and teeth”. It was a showbiz version of the less vulgar, “hold your head high and stick your chest out”.

Her cue was coming up; she took a deep breath, put her shoulders back and walked out.

Charlotte continued walking until she reached the car.

At the time, she could not make sense of what she did, nor why she walked away from the circus.

In retrospect, she realised that she was unable, perhaps eventually unwilling, to break free from her roots and inherited, innate sense of her expected place in the world. In her heart of hearts, she had known that her circus “family” was temporary, as it would constantly form and re-form from a fluctuating group of itinerants.

She and Martin realised that their attempts to bridge both worlds had led them to feel like impostors in each of them.

Charlotte still wanted her life to be different, but in the future, more definite choices would need to be made.