O' for the love of Shakespeare Read Online Free PDF Page B

week.  I’d love to teach you, properly.”  I smile back
at her, maybe I should one day take her up on the offer.  “Oh we nearly almost
forgot we need to give you your birthday present dear.”  Mum starts rifling
through the cupboard underneath the television.
    I’m actually fairly optimistic as the present
that she pulls out looks like a small reading book.   “Thank you Mum and Dad,
that’s really nice of you.”  Once in my hands I pull open the wrapping paper. 
It is a book.  Oh goodness it’s a self-help book.  Have I really sunk so low in
my life that my parents, my odd dysfunctional parents, feel that I need
guidance from self-help books?  “Yes erm thanks.”  I choke out.
    “You’re welcome.”  Dad says not looking up from
the newspaper.  I’m sure he has absolutely no idea what present I have just
been given for my birthday.  Mum nods congratulating herself on her brilliant
choice of present.  She stands now by dad’s chair and uncharacteristically
gently places her hand on his shoulder.  Dad drops the paper instantly and
lovingly squeezes her hand.  I look at them and for maybe the first time ever I
am jealous of their relationship.  It is far from being perfect but they do at
least have each other.  Maybe I will have a quick flick through their present…
    “Right I better be off.”  I feel numb, after an
awkward hug with both parents, I am out the door and on my way home.  
    Exit Mum and Dad, thank goodness!
    This is a nightmare, it is eleven and all I
have packed are pants and one very unattractive but comfortable bra.  What is
the point of having so many clothes but not being able to find anything that I
actually want to wear?  I swear my floor has a layer of four inch discarded
garments that I have tried on and then quickly decided that they are not
suitable.  Breathe Jane, breathe.  Keep it simple.  I grab a couple pairs of
skinny jeans, shirts, vests, t-shirts and a floaty emerald coloured dress which
I am not sure about as I think I look like a tepee which has moss growing on it
when I try it on.   It was purchased in a moment of weakness on one of the rare
occasions that Vic had managed drag me out shopping with her.
    In complete despair at my wardrobe I wonder
over to a small set of drawers in my bedroom and pull open the bottom drawer. 
Vic has left a few outfits here in case she ever has too much to drink and
decides to sleep over.  I know ninety percent of the clothes in here will be
too small for me but I pull out everything and I am rewarded with an A-line pretty,
pale duck blue dress.  I slip it on and scrutinise my reflection, I know it
would look better on Vic but it fits me and it is nicer than anything I own. 
I’m sure Vic will not mind me borrowing it to wear this weekend.  Folding it
carefully I place it on the top in my wheelie case.  There I’m finally packed. 
A shiver of excitement runs through me, I retrieve my Complete Works of
Shakespeare and fall asleep in the world of Iago whispering in Othello’s
ear, the bastard.

 
    Act I Scene III
     
    “Once more unto the
breach dear friends, once more.”  Henry V
     
    What is that horrific noise?  I try swinging an
arm to stop wherever the discord is coming from but my limbs won’t help me.  I
blink, trying to clear the blur.  First things first - find the noise and kill
it.  I am so not a morning person.  My brain slowly kicks in and I remember the
bleeping is coming from the alarm on my phone.  How did Shakespeare get so much
work done without an alarm?  Anyway, it means it is six in the morning and
Thursday is finally here.  I wriggle in bed, stretching, check all of me has
woken up, grab my phone and swipe it to stop the alarm.  With uncharacteristic
energy for this time of the morning, I leap up from bed and dash to the
bathroom for a shower.  I cannot help but smile the whole time I’m getting
ready, dancing to music that only I can hear as I dry my hair, pleased that