The lights dimmed as the Fairy Queen drew back her trident. The
music rose to a crecendo. Ruth, cowering and half blinded by the
spotlight, saw that the prongs were needle-sharp. She saw the woman
prepare to strike, and closed her eyes. She couldn’t watch as-
The audience gasped. She cried out, and felt herself falling
backwards. Then she felt arms around her, Patrick’s arms, lowering her
to the stage. He knelt, cradling her in his arms. She felt a tear fall
on her cheek.
“It’s ok,” she said, opening her eyes and trying to smile at him. He
bent his head low over hers. She whispered to him, as her eyes closed
again. His arms tightened around her and another tear fell. He
couldn’t speak. Dimly she heard the happy music of the finale start up,
as if in another world. It seemed so remote, and fading...
Ruth awoke with a start and sat up. The room was lit by the dim
light of early morning. The others slept- she could hear Agnes snoring
softly. She lay down again and covered her face with her hands as she
wept and shivered.
Today was the day. The adjudicator’s special performance of Iolanthe was
to take place in the Buxton opera house, with Ruth playing the title
role. The adjudicator herself was to play the Fairy Queen. The
prisoners had wondered about that. They knew she had formerly been an
actress but had thought she had long retired. But when they had read
the revised script as far as the finale they realised why.
“But she can’t do that,” Agnes had said. They had all turned and stared at Ruth. “She just can’t!”
Ruth had looked at the stage directions again. It was quite clear.
“She can,” she had said quietly. “She can do whatever she likes with us. No one can object.”
“But I thought she was just trying to scare us when she talked about- about this!”
Ruth shook her head. “It seems not.” She read the page again,
trying to take it in. The adjudicator was going to kill her, right
there, on stage.
“But it’s just such a- a preposterous idea,” Adam protested.
“The Romans did it,” Ruth replied in a detatched voice. “They used criminals. It’s not as far fetched as it sounds.”
“But you- you can’t let her do this,” Patrick said.
“How can I stop her?” Ruth said angrily. “There’s nothing any of us
can do,” she said. “I as good as volunteered. Either I accept it and-
and try to get through it somehow without breaking down, or I scream and
protest and die anyway. Besides,” she added more calmly. “What do I
have to loose?”
And so they had rehearsed, and Ruth had done her very best to learn
the part perfectly. It was something to do, to take her mind off what
was going to happen just before the finale. Patrick was to play the
Lord Chancellor, the others were in the chorus. But they seemed somehow
awkward, as if they were shy of talking to her in case they said
something to upset her, or perhaps guilty. Even when they did speak the
subject was avoided. So she had been lonely and silent when she most
felt the need to talk, and to be reassured.
All of this came back to her as she lay there in the early morning,
sobbing silently. She was frightened and felt very alone.
There was a light touch on her arm, and she looked up. Patrick had
been lying next to her, asleep or so she had thought. Now he reached
out to her, taking her hand, his expression all concern.
“Can I do anything?” he whispered. She shook her head.
“It’s just a dream,” she whispered back. “I’ve had it every night-
each night it ends with her killing me in a different way. But this was
the worst.” She sat up, and he put an arm around her and took her hand
with his free one. “I don’t know whether I can get through this,” she
said. “I’ll break down, forget my words, beg and scream for her mercy
and die without a shred of dignity. I never thought that would matter,
but now...it does.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It should be me that’s going through this, not you.”
“There’s no ‘should’ about it,” Ruth said. “It shouldn’t be happening to any of us.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s all my fault this is happening.”
“Anything you’ve done against me I’ve long forgiven,” she said,
leaning her head against his. “Remember that. Please, you’ve been such
a friend to me, can I ask you one last thing? Please stay with me, as
much as you can, until it’s over? I don’t even know how she’s going to
do it, and if it takes a long time I...any courage I’ve got won’t last.
If you can, please don’t leave me alone now. I’m more scared than I
thought I would be...”
“Of course I will,” he replied.
That day was the worst of their captivity. The performance was not
till the evening, and Ruth did not know how she got through the day. At
last, the door was unlocked and the adjudicator stood there, the
fantoms looming behind her.
“So,” she said, looking down at Ruth. “Did you think someone would
come at the last moment and rescue you in the nick of time? This isn't
one of your stories. Nothing’s going to save you.”
“I know,” Ruth said quietly. During the long days of imprisonment
she had tried to dream new stories, new adventures. But she thought of
the contrast between herself and her character in her stories and knew
all too well that they were not real life.
They took the TTC to the theatre. None of them were sure why, the
adjudicator just seemed to enjoy showing it off. They changed into
costumes and prepared for the show, Ruth’s heart racing with all kinds
of fear.
She stood, waiting, by the door to the stage. She could hear the
audience on the other side of the curtain, and wondered if they knew.
Were they here to enjoy a the spectacle? Had they been forced to come?
Or did they simply not know what was going to happen?
Somewhere in the depths of the building, a bell rang. It was time.
The story continues...
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