The Fairest Stars

Chapter Five: 'What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?'

‘That’s fantastic!’ cried Harry, pulling Isis into his arms. ‘I knew you’d get Juliet, I just knew it!’

'It’s going to be so much fun,’ Isis said into his chest, her words a bit muffled by his jumper.

‘I can’t wait to come and see you onstage,’ Harry told her. ‘When can I buy tickets?!’

Isis laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm. ‘We haven’t even started the rehearsals yet, silly,’ she told him.

 ‘When do they start?’ he asked.

‘Next week, I think,’ Isis replied. ‘That’s the thing I’m worried about, really,’ she said, with a little sigh. ‘I’m not quite sure how I’m going to fit it in.’

Harry frowned. ‘What time does Seb start his second job?’ 

‘He leaves at half six,’ Isis replied. ‘I think rehearsals finish at half five or six, from what they did last year.’

‘Mmm, that is a bit tight,’ Harry replied. ‘You could leave Freya with your mum, couldn’t you?’ 

‘Of course. It’s just not ideal.’ Isis paused. ‘I’ll have to ask her about it.’

Harry put an arm around her shoulders as they walked down the familiar corridor. ‘I’m sure she’ll be really proud of you, Is,’ he told her. ‘After all, your dad was really into theatrics, wasn’t he?’

Isis nodded. ‘I was kind of hoping that she might actually come and watch,’ she admitted. ‘If I could get her out this once, perhaps I could get her out more often.’

‘That’s a fantastic idea!’ Harry told her. ‘Aww, Isis, I just can’t wait for this!’

He was, thought Isis, probably more excited than she was, and that was saying a lot.

With a huge grin on her face, a grin that had been there almost permanently all day, she gave Harry another hug. ‘Me neither!’

*

As usual, Kael came home to a silent household. While he liked being alone, it sometimes creeped him out that every noise he made echoed around the rooms, the slightest bump from downstairs making him freak out, wondering if there were burglars. 

But this was how it always was now. Every morning, he’d get up to an empty household, his dad having already left for work, not to return until the evening, and his mother still in bed. She would be out socialising with friends and attending lunches and dinners most of the day, so Kael only ever saw his mother in the evenings, if at all.

It was ridiculous, really. He may as well have been still at boarding school for all the time he was spending with his parents. 

Kicking off his shoes, he poked his head into the kitchen in search of a snack. Settling for a bag of crisps, he made his way into the living room, and stopped short. His mother was in there, silently reading a book. A book, which, judging by the dodgy looking cover, containing a man and a woman clinging to each other with expressions that were probably meant to be the throes of passion, but looked more like they were suffering from severe constipation, was utterly crap.

‘Mum?’

She looked up, her heavily made up eyes blinking at him. ‘Oh. Hello, Kael.’ Putting the book down, she crossed one dark skinned leg over the other. ‘How was my handsome boy’s day at school, then?’ she inquired, patting the sofa cushion next to her. After spending the majority of her life in England, his mother had an almost perfect English accent, the Brazilian tones only coming through when she said certain words. Or when she was particularly angry or upset.