No going back - 39. Colin 14: Being Theatrical

Colin had no idea what to expect when it came to the performance that the kids on Joe’s course were giving, he was looking forward to it but also a bit uncertain. He could cope if the play wasn’t his sort of thing, but what if the kids were rubbish, that was simply going be embarrassing, especially when it came to Joe’s thing about Owain’s family.

However, Sunday morning, he and Owain had a lazy start to things. Joe hadn't been a trouble to have around, but it was nice there just being the two of them. Colin had been a bit shocked when Owain had blithely mentioned their wedding the other day, and even more shocked when Owain suggested that Colin might propose to him.

Was it too early? It had only been a few months, but first the holiday together and then the last couple of weeks with Colin spending more time at Owain's partly because of Joe. It had felt right. The two of them in Owain's house. He'd even made enquiries and been surprised how much he'd get if he let out his flat.

But Colin didn't want to propose, or be proposed to for that matter, he wanted the two of them to decide together. And the idea of either of them getting down on one knee was just plain ridiculous. On Friday, he'd made time to pop into a couple of jewellers in town and found that rings were largely either hideous or expensive or both. And you couldn't get engaged without a ring, could you?

He just couldn't get the ideas out of his head; they'd been circling round and round. "I've been thinking, about what you said".

Owain looked at him, said 'What's that then?', but Colin knew he'd guessed.

"Getting engaged. I don't want to be proposed to", Owain's head came up in surprise, "and I'm not going to propose to you. I want us to decide together", Owain opened his mouth, but Colin ploughed on, "I think we should talk about living together, but I'd rather do that after we talk about getting engaged and all that. You said once that a relationship should be a partnership. Well, that's what I want, too."

Owain smiled and took Colin's hand, "That's the most you've ever said about us, about our relationship."

Colin went a bit pink, "It's been going round and round in my head. Sorry…"

"There's nothing to be sorry for. By engagement, you mean we both agree that we plan to get married."

"At some time. Yes."

"And exchange rings?"

Colin wrinkled his nose, "Thing is, I went and looked, the ones in town were either hideous or expensive."

Owain laughed, "Or both. I have a secret weapon. Ta da!"

He brought out a business card, plain yet elegant - Norma Rathbone. Art Jewellery. Craft, Design, Elegance.

"Who's she?"

"Guy at work got engaged, he and his boyfriend had rings made by this Norma Rathbone. Didn't cost a mint and they do look good. But I couldn't have a ring designed for you without your knowledge, could I?"

"So, we choose together", Colin smiled. "Have we sort of jumped over the bit where we discuss getting engaged?"

Owain grinned back, "Did we need to discuss it? I'm sure."

"And I am." They kissed and sat comfortably for a bit.

"I made a few quick enquiries on Friday, about letting the flat."

"And?"

"You can get a decent amount. Worth doing. It won't take much to fix up, get it nice."

"What about others?"

"Others?" Colin looked puzzled.

"Well, if there's a market, strikes me that as manage one flat, you might be able to manage a few, a different strand to the business. If they're going for a decent rent. You'd be able to sort out maintenance easy enough. Perhaps see your way to getting that getting that admin assistant to do more; get them to do the paperwork."

Colin had simply been staring at him, Owain looked worried, "Sorry. Tell me I'm talking out of my arse if it doesn't make sense."

But the man beamed at him, "It does. Complete sense. Reliable Renovations and Reliable Rentals."

"With a name like that, you'd have a reputation to live up to."

"I'm not bloody doing something half-arsed. Done properly or nothing."

Owain stood up, "There we are, life sorted. Now, we need to shower and get ready." He looked at Colin, "Join me for some celebration fun?"

---

Joe's course was taking place in a local college that was the proud possessor of a theatre. Built in the 1950s but still regarded as an asset. The college was based around an Edwardian house, to which additions, extensions and other buildings had been added to create a rather haphazard campus, 1930s, 1950s, and 1970s rubbing shoulders with the Edwardian original. The college had gone through several different incarnations but still held on, for the moment.

The end result looked rather grim, and hardly a welcoming place to study. The theatre was in a sort of courtyard made up of more recent buildings, most of which now hummed with activity.

They were welcomed by a couple of young people in black who gave them programmes and explained a bit about the afternoon's event. Mhairi was already there, standing outside the theatre and the three of them went off in search of ice cream. The audience was varied in age, class and ethnicities, a mix of parents and fellow students, Colin presumed.

A couple of display boards introduced the work of the youth drama project and a middle-aged woman sat at a table nearby, soliciting people to sign up as supporters. She didn't seem to be doing much business.

Colin picked up a leaflet as Owain turned to Mhairi, "How about it, a small step in patronage?"

She smiled, "Spend it before you've earned it?"

"I didn't think that we're earning it at all?"

"Oh, why not. Damn it." The lady was delighted to make two conquests and explained at length the benefits of the patrons scheme.

By the time the lights went down, Colin still wasn't sure what to expect. A middle-aged man appeared in front of the curtain, introduced himself as the director and explained how they were going to see various scenes, created and workshopped by the students, then in the second half there was a full staging of scenes from TS Elliot's The Cocktail Party.

The students’ scenes were varied and intriguing. A monologue from an angry young man written in the 1950s, a classic scene from Shakespeare but with genders flipped, two scenes featuring pop culture references that Colin failed to get, then at the end of the first half, Joe's scene.

A burly, dark-haired boy sat behind a desk, and a poised young black woman strode in, eyes blazing. Even knowing what lay behind the scene, Colin found himself being drawn into this tussle between two strong personalities, a man who saw no wrong in making money, whatever the outcome, and a young woman for whom principle was all. What was intriguing was that neither was completely sympathetic or even likable.

"Damn it, was our family really like that?", Mhairi shook her head.

"What's weird is that Blessing was nothing like Dad, yet I could recognise bits."

"What about grandad?"

"Convincing and scary."

"And brilliant, or is that proud Mum speaking?"

"You've every right. It was bloody brilliant."

"Mum, Uncle Owain, Colin, well what did you think?" Joe appeared, looking anxiously from one to the other.

Mhairi answered first, "It was brilliant."

"Had me gripped. Moses and Blessing were terrific."

"You aren't angry?"

"At what? Bits of it were scarily like Dad, but Blessing made it her own. Nothing to be angry about, love", Mhairi took his hands in hers, "I'm very proud of you."

"We all are."

"Mum, I've got to go and get sorted out for the second half, but Mr Walsh wanted a word."

Tom Walsh was a tall, sandy-haired man, with the sort of harassed look that probably came from being responsible for a couple of dozen lively teenagers for two weeks. He gave a nervous smile, “I trust that you enjoyed Joe’s scene and that the subject was not too distressing. He assured us that you had agreed…”

He came to a halt in the face of Owain and Mhairi’s astonishment. Colin thought that the sight of the three of them was a picture; poor man, he’d probably been worried he would be dealing with anxious relatives.

Instead, Mhairi gave him a beaming, proud Mother, smile, “I assure you we were in no way distressed. Impressed, more like. I’d no idea my son had it in him.”

Walsh nodded, “It is indeed a powerful piece of work.”

“And great performances, it was weird hearing Dad but seeing Blessing and she certainly made it her own.”

“And Joe threw in a bit of Nathan, my ex-husband, too.”

Owain was smiling at Walsh’s bemusement, perhaps they seemed crazy to him. “I assure you Joe caught the two well. We don’t know what was really said, but I think he caught it didn’t he?” Owain looked at Mhairi who nodded.

“That is such a relief, I was worried, but it is such a powerful piece. I do want to encourage Joe with it.”

Mhairi stared at him, “You mean this piece, or writing in general, or acting?”

Walsh pulled a face, “He’s a competent and useful actor but he has the potential to be a talented writer. We have writing workshops at the youth theatre and I’m hoping he’ll come along. But I would like to help him develop the scene.”

“The religious bigot and the arms dealer”, Owain had a wry smile on his face.

Walsh laughed, “Yes. I think there is more in it, I want to push Joe to go further with the material.”

“I have learned the hard way, Mr Walsh.”

“Tom, please.”

“Tom, that my son only does well when he’s engaged with a project. He’s already impressed his uncle’s boyfriend, Colin here, who’s a builder, with his talent, working on renovating my brother’s house. Now you talk about his writing. All can say is, I’ll do everything I can.”

Walsh nodded, “Thank you. I must see what’s happening backstage”, and he gave a wry smile.

Mhairi was quiet as they went back into the theatre, as well she might be. To realise your son was talented in some way, was one thing, but to see it in action and have a tutor like Tom Walsh spell it out. That was something else.

As they sat down, she said quietly, “Pride before a fall.”

Colin looked blankly at her, but Owain’s eyes had widened, and he nodded, “Takes me back”, he turned to Colin, “I’d arrived home from school, proud of achieving something, winning a prize or some such, only to find my parents’ congratulations tempered with injunctions about the sin of pride. It became something of a catch-phrase, pride comes before a fall.”

Mhairi pulled a face, “Gloomy bloody piece of advice if you ask me. Kids need a bit of encouragement.””

The play in the second half was a bit strange. For a start it was in some sort of verse, despite being written in the late 1940s. Colin had vaguely heard of TS Eliot; he and Owain had even tried, unsuccessfully, reading some of his poetry online. It was also some sort of religious allegory. Who knows.

They only performed selected scenes and Joe played a character who stepped out of the action to fill in the gaps. But it was still an odd piece and a challenge for the kids. Perhaps that was the idea.

Colin heard Mhairi whisper to Owain as they came out, “Was it just me?”

“Or was that a mighty strange piece?” They both smiled.

Safely outside in the fresh air, Colin leaned over to Owain, but Owain got in first, “Mhairi and I agree it was an odd piece.”

“For a group of kids. And what was it about?”

Mhairi smiled, “I expect it was intended to be a challenge, the sort of topic they might not usually come across.”

Owain rolled his eyes in response, “Cocktail parties and religious martyrdom.”

Mhairi was trying not to laugh, “I think I’ve had enough of religion, thank you.”

“Perhaps we need to see the whole play?”

Colin pulled a face, “Do we have to?”, but then grinned.

Mhairi shook her head, “Good job we enjoyed Joe’s piece. Can we believe him, Tom Walsh?”

Owain shrugged, “Why not? It was a good bit of work.”

Colin smiled, “You’d believe him if he was a maths teacher saying Joe’s maths was good, so why not his drama tutor?” He gave a wry smile.

Mhairi pulled a face, but it was a sort of resigned acceptance. She nodded, “You’re right, I suppose.”

The courtyard outside the theatre accumulated groups of people, presumably expectant parents. Mhairi and Colin were still mulling over Tom Walsh’s comments when Owain spotted him and walked over, he nodded.

“Tom, just going back to the subject of Joe’s scene, you might be interested to know that there’s going to be a display in Netherwich Library about our family.”

“Goodness, is that part of a local event?”

“No, they have a local history display, and we get to take it over. A local historian’s putting it together.”

“And the characters in Joe’s play?”

“Will feature.” Owain gave him a wry grin. He smiled in response and dashed off.

They met Blessing and Moses and their parents. Blessing’s family seemed as bemused by her acting skills as Mhairi was by Joe’s newfound writing, whilst Moses’ parents simply beamed.

They were able to finally tear Joe away and set off. There had been talk of having a meal out. Colin later found out that Joe had suggest that Colin cook, but Mhairi had evidently been outraged, not so much for the slight on her own cooking as that they couldn’t just come out and invite themselves round to Owain’s place and expect Colin to provide the food.

But nothing daunted, during the week, Joe had phoned Colin, ostensibly about the job with Reliable Renovations, but he’d slyly brought it up, not directly but Colin had offered almost before Joe had finished asking. So, there they were at Owain’s place, tucking into a casserole that Colin had left cooking – the new cooker had an automatic timer, much to Owain’s amazement.

Immediate compliments over, Joe was bashful about talking about the piece, but delighted at Tom Walsh’s comments as relayed by his Mother. He had originally thought the youth theatre’s writing workshops sounded lame, but agreed to give them a go and he was patently excited that Walsh thought enough of his piece to help him develop it.

“What about Sandra?” They all looked at Colin, not following his train of thought.

Mhairi cocked her head on one side, “Sorry Colin, I don’t follow.”

“The display she’s organising at the Library, Owain said he’d told Tom Walsh about it, and Walsh was interested, seeing as there are close links, but the Library might be interested in having a performance of Joe’s piece too. It all links up. And Joe’s related, to boot.”

“Joe?”

“That’d be brilliant, but how’d we do it.”

“I’ll speak to Sandra, after all I work with her other half. She’ll undoubtedly know who to speak to.”

Joe grinned, “It’d be ace to do it again.”