A Christmas Gift. Sue Moorcroft
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then.’ She returned to Joe in the corridor.
He glanced towards the now subdued room they were leaving behind. ‘Do you need to wait for their tutor?’
‘It’s not how we generally do things. The tallest one, Tomasz, can’t always afford things like guitar strings and he gets protective of his possessions, but Oggie likes to treat the students like adults as far as possible. I think they’ll be OK now they’ve let off steam.’ She opened a pair of doors.
‘Oggie was always good at treating kids as if each one mattered.’ Joe stepped into the lofty hall beyond the doors.
Georgine followed him in. ‘Did you work at Oggie’s last place? I know he was head of a big academy in Kent.’
Joe looked away. ‘He taught at my school in Surrey when I was a teen. He put on the plays and concerts and I did scenery shifting and stuff. It took me a while to fit in, but Oggie helped. I kept in touch with him through college and we became friends over the years.’
‘Wow, you’ve known him for ages,’ she said encouragingly. She did the maths in her head, knowing Oggie to be in his mid-forties. ‘The Surrey school must have been one of his first jobs.’
He shrugged.
Nobody could accuse him of drawing things out with his chat, chat, chat, she thought. ‘This is the studio theatre. We’re incredibly lucky to have it. Some rehearsals take place here but we put performances on at the Raised Curtain, a theatre attached to a local academy.’ She cast her satisfied gaze over a drum kit standing near mic stands, amplifiers and equalisers. The front rows of the retractable seating were out but the rest were tidily away like a giant set of drawers ready for rehearsals.
She speeded up as she led the way back up the corridor. ‘The main building used to be a house called Lie Low, the bolthole of a Carry On star and then a shady businessman.’ They passed dance studios, Joe glancing in on students and giving the brief nods he seemed to consider sufficient interaction as Georgine continued to provide background information. ‘Acting Instrumental’s a small independent further education college. Our current roll is eighty-four students across two year-groups. The cafeteria’s through here. Oggie got funding to subsidise lunches so the take-up is high.’ She turned right. ‘This is my room.’ She laughed to see a garland of turquoise tinsel hanging from the handle. ‘I’m collecting Christmas props so people are bringing me their cast offs.’ She whisked past, heading straight for dance rehearsal.
She paused at the door. ‘This is the big rehearsal room. Maddie’s working with dance students on our Christmas show, A Very Kerry Christmas, Uncle Jones. The students are Level 3, which is the same as A Level.’ She stepped inside. At one end of the room a stage space was denoted by yellow gaffer tape on the floor where a small dance troupe was learning a routine.
Maddie glanced round without pausing in her dance. Tall and willowy, her fair hair pulled back in a plait, she flashed a smile before returning her attention to the teenagers who were mirroring her movements. The shuffles and thumps marking the rhythm of their feet made Georgine’s heart lift.
‘Forward, back,’ Maddie called, ‘step-two-three, change, step-two-three, back, leg lift, and chassé … and then we’re ready for the last part of act one, scene two. Let’s try it to music.’ She clicked a small remote in her hand and a lively jive tune burst onto the air.
‘Here we go … two, three and forward, back …’ The troupe moved as one, girls in leggings and boys in jogging pants, all eyes on Maddie unless a head turn was required with a step.
‘Wonderful! Concentrate but don’t frown, chassé, back, leg lift,’ Maddie sang gently. Frowns vanished, limbs moved in time.
Georgine’s toes were already tapping. She whispered to Joe, ‘Each student will keep a progress log: how their creative journey’s developed, decisions made and the effect on the audience. We make rehearsal and show-night videos too.’
‘Great.’ His nod definitely looked approving.
Encouraged by this slight sign of engagement, she went on. ‘We’re extraordinarily proud that we’re open to students’ choices, nurturing them, cheering them on, proactively helping them make whatever they can out of music, dance or drama. A kid can come here without a single GCSE and try vocational qualifications from entry level up to Level 3. The “can do” attitude here is awesome.’ She laughed at her own enthusiasm. ‘I love how amazing, how fantastic Acting Instrumental is.’
Joe actually smiled. ‘I’m sure you’re proud of helping it happen.’ It probably counted as gushing from Mr Chat and Personality.
Georgine turned back to the dancers, jigging on the spot to the catchy number. ‘I need to watch the rest of this rehearsal and get involved. You OK to look on?’
‘Yep.’ But Joe, to Georgine’s surprise, moved further into the room with her to continue the conversation. ‘Will they dance to recordings on the night?’ His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.
‘No, this is a rehearsal track. The show’s composed by Jasmine, an alumna who went on to university and won a scholarship that paid her final year’s tuition fees. She’s provided rehearsal recordings that her music student mates have played on. We have two bands of our own, but they’re still rehearsing separately at this stage.’
She half expected Joe to look bamboozled by so much detail, but his deep brown eyes were aglow with what looked like satisfaction. ‘Ace.’
Georgine could only agree.
Before them, Maddie was still mirroring the troupe’s routine, occasionally calling out the steps, gaze moving back and forth to monitor each student. Unable to contain her impatient feet, Georgine thrust her shiny Christmas show file at Joe and moved up behind Maddie, picking up the steps to dance along.
A couple of the students grinned her way and Maddie, seeing Georgine in the mirror, implemented an impressively smooth about face to dance opposite Georgine. Forgetting all her pressures and worries, Georgine laughed aloud as the troupe moved forwards and she had to reverse. It was a bit like being Ginger Rogers to a bunch of Fred Astaires … apart from wearing jeans and trainers instead of a swirly dress and heels.
At the close of the segment Maddie called, ‘Three, two, one, cha-cha-cha, and sliiiiiide, jazz hands. Fantastic everybody! Quick break. Grab a drink if you want one.’
Back down to earth now the dancing was done, Georgine caught her breath and approached her colleague. ‘Maddie, I’d better introduce you to the new guy, Joe. Oggie was one of his teachers, apparently, and he has technical experience.’
Maddie sipped from a bottle of water and winked. ‘The cutie rocking the designer specs? What’s he like?’
‘Nice to look at,’ Georgine admitted, ‘but flippin’ hard work. Hardly speaks.’
Yet when she took Maddie over to Joe and made the introductions, Joe flashed a smile, showing no signs of shyness. ‘I’ve really enjoyed watching,’ he told Maddie, and went on for a whole minute about how great the dancers had looked and what a shame it was that there weren’t more male dance students.
Then he turned back to Georgine and returned to using only necessary words. ‘Oggie’s texted. I need to go to Fern’s office and apply for my DBS online.’
‘OK, I’ll show you there.’ Georgine turned back to the dancers. ‘You’re doing brilliantly! I’ll be back shortly.’ Then Georgine delivered Joe to the capable hands of Fern, with her bouffant silver hair and air of unflappable calm.
She skipped back to dance rehearsal trying not to mind that Joe had turned to Fern’s computer with such an obvious expression of relief.
After filling in all the necessary boxes on-screen