Chapter 3
Chapter Three
JACK
Stratford-upon-Avon
I can hardly believe I’m about to leave Stratford. As I glance around my room, strangely tidy and empty, a wave of unexpected melancholy washes over me, something I never thought I’d feel.
I’ve always imagined moving to London someday, to study dance at a top academy, but it always felt like a dream too big to come true.
And now, here I am, bags packed, about to move to Soho and start studying at the most prestigious contemporary dance academy in the whole of England…
and for a moment, those old doubts creep in about whether I’m really up to it, whether I truly have what it takes to become a professional dancer.
Will I be able to keep up with my peers? Can I meet the standards of a school like this? So many talented dancers didn’t make it. Do I have that extra something it takes to turn this into a real career?
During the difficult teenage years, when I was targeted by bullies, my self-esteem, something that had always been solid, started to take a hit.
But over time, thanks to my family and a growing self-awareness, I’ve learnt how to fight off those thoughts.
And even now, when they sneak back in from time to time, I know how to shut them down.
All I have to do is think about the sacrifices, the sweat, but also the recognition I’ve earned over the past few years.
It reminds me that I don’t just have passion and natural talent, I have the drive and the discipline to work tirelessly, always pushing myself to deliver the best performance I possibly can.
“Jack, sweetheart…” Mum bursts into my room with her usual flair, and for once, I’m actually grateful for her lack of filters, because that infectious cheerfulness of hers is exactly what I need right now to shake off the last of my nerves.
“I’m ready, Mum!” I reply straight away, smiling. I lift my beige rucksack off the floor and swing it over my shoulder. As I bend down to grab the handle of my old leather suitcase, she gently places a hand on my arm, firm, but soft.
“I know you’re ready, Jay…” she says, looking straight into my eyes. And even though she’s using that sweet nickname from when I was little, I know she’s not only talking about the luggage.
So, I set the suitcase down again, and without needing to say a word, I take her hand, pull her close, and wrap her in a tender hug.
For once, it’s Mum leaning on me, not the other way round, and we end up in this strange role reversal where she’s supposed to be the one comforting me, but I’m the one holding her up. It’s a new feeling, a little unsettling maybe, but not a bad one.
Realising that even the strongest people can be vulnerable sometimes, that parents are human too, just like everyone else, I think that, in the long run, it makes us love them even more. Or at least, that’s how I feel right now.
After a few moments of quiet, Mum lifts her gaze to mine, and even though her eyes are misty, I can tell she’s found her usual strength again.
Dad’s downstairs waiting to drive me to London, but she’s decided to stay behind, officially to look after Auggie, a little boy she sometimes babysits from her class. Though I have a feeling she preferred to say goodbye here, to make the parting just a bit easier.
I’ve travelled alone many times before, for school, for work, so Mum’s used to seeing me go. But this time, the goodbye feels much more final.
Maybe she’s less ready to see me leave the nest than she thought she’d be. But knowing her, she’d never let her emotions get in the way. She straightens up to her full height, which actually matches mine, and gently strokes my cheek before speaking again.
“I just wanted to tell you one thing before you go, Jack… I know your dad’s downstairs waiting, but these past few days have been such a whirlwind of preparations, it feels like time just slipped away…”
Her hand, warm and soft, lingers on my face as I nod to encourage her, I don’t want to make this any harder than it already is. She carries on, surer of herself now.
“I have no doubt you’ll make us proud, Jack.
I’ve always believed in you, and I always will, and not just because you’re my son, but because I know exactly what you’re capable of.
What I wanted to say is… if at any point things get too hard, if you ever feel like you need a break to think, or even just to rest, this will always be your home, Jack.
Your dad and I will always be here for you, sweetheart, though something tells me you won’t need to come back. ”
Then she gives me a playful nudge towards the door, adding, “Now go! Spread your wings, go and take London!”
I’m already halfway out the door, unable to reply because of the lump in my throat, when Mum calls out to me one last time.
“One more thing… Don’t be too hard on your brother, Jack.
I know Ian’s not the easiest person to get along with, and I also know he hasn’t been there for you the way he should’ve been, especially when you needed him most. But I’m sure he’s had his own struggles too, even if he’s not one to show it… ”
I start to respond, but she cuts me off gently.
“Ian loves you, believe me. And right now, at least, he’s trying to be a good brother. While you’re in Soho, just promise me you’ll do your best to get along with him, and with the others too, alright?”
There’s no point arguing. Besides, it’s only a temporary arrangement. So, I nod and give her a reassuring smile.
“Alright, Mum. I promise I’ll do my best.”
“That’s my boy!” she beams, ruffling my hair affectionately. “You’re a real sweetheart…”
Then she stops, looking at me with such warmth in her eyes that I’m suddenly on the verge of tears again.
“Sometimes I wonder who’ll be lucky enough to win your heart… I just hope it’s someone who truly deserves you, because you’ve got so much love to give, Jack.”
Luckily, I’m spared the awkwardness of having to reply, because Dad, clearly getting impatient, starts shouting from downstairs.
“Ally! Jack! Where have you two disappeared to? I haven’t got all day!”
“Alright, alright, we’re coming!” Mum calls back as we head down the stairs, one after the other.
When we reach the ground floor of our little house, I’m surprised to see that it’s not just my dad waiting for us, Nate is here too. Well, Natalie. My best friend.
She’s the only person I’ve ever seriously considered the idea of being with. At least, until the day she tried to kiss me and I instinctively pulled away. The awkwardness in that moment was so overwhelming it left no room for denial, it had been a terrible idea.
Since then, we’ve stayed well away from any grey areas. As friends, we work perfectly, and neither of us wants to mess with that.
Sometimes I wonder if, deep down, Natalie might still want something more, especially in those moments when she thinks I’m not paying attention, but catches me with that sideways look. The kind that’s hard to ignore.
But I’ve learned to push those thoughts aside. She’s one of the very few people who truly get me, who accept me exactly as I am, and I’d never risk our friendship for anything in the world.
“Jack!!” Natalie shrieks, leaping off the sofa. Then she runs over and throws her arms around my neck like she hasn’t seen me in years, even though we said goodbye just last night.
Nate can be a bit dramatic sometimes, but so can I, so we put up with each other without too many complaints.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, still surprised, as she squeezes me tight.
“Did you really think I’d let you leave without saying goodbye one last time?” she replies, suddenly serious.
“Let’s not get carried away…” I laugh, a bit embarrassed. “I’m planning to come back between exams. You’re not getting rid of me that easily!”
“Oh, I know!” she grins, giving me a cheeky wink. “I bet you’ll use the excuse to check up on your students, too!”
“Well, it won’t hurt to pop in from time to time,” I tease. “Especially to keep an eye on the new teacher…”
I’m winding her up, of course, Natalie’s taken over the pre-dance classes I used to teach at the Stratford Dance Academy.
Natalie and I followed the same path, the dance course at Stratford-upon-Avon College, but unlike me, who went on to specialise in modern and contemporary dance, she chose the classical ballet track.
Either way, job opportunities for young dancers like us aren’t exactly abundant around here. So, after finishing college, we both ended up teaching part-time at the local dance school, where, funnily enough, we both took our very first steps as kids.
Most of our students are children and teenagers, and even though the pay is low and the work exhausting, I have to admit, I love it. I adore having the chance to introduce little ones to the basics of dance and watch young talent blossom right in front of me.
Of course, I’ve grown attached to all my students, even the more unruly ones, and I already know I’m going to miss many of them.
But all jokes aside, I honestly believe I’m leaving them in very good hands.
For now, Natalie hasn’t had her chance to leave Stratford yet, but I know she’s genuinely happy for me, and without a doubt, her time will come too.
After giving me a playful elbow, she shakes her head full of chestnut curls and shoots me a look I can’t quite read.
“I’m going to miss you, Jack…”
“I’ll miss you too, Nate,” I reply honestly. “But I’m guessing you’ll come visit me in London pretty soon, won’t you?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“In a few weeks Next to Normal is back on stage, so you’d better get ready to have a guest!” she says, already buzzing at the idea of seeing her favourite musical again.
“Yeah…” I murmur, lowering my voice. “I just hope that by the time you get there, I’m no longer living at my brother’s place…”
“I heard that!” Mum calls out.
“We need to go!” Dad adds, more firmly now, and I know it’s really time to hit the road.
Mum and Nate walk us out to the car, where Dad’s old Ford estate is already parked. After one last round of goodbyes, I slip into the passenger seat, buckle my seatbelt, and glance over at my dad.
He rests a hand on my shoulder for a moment and gives me a look full of quiet understanding.
As always, even though he doesn’t say much, he seems to grasp what people are feeling far better than his reserved nature would suggest, and right now, I’m certain he knows just how overwhelmed I am.
I could’ve easily taken the train, but he insisted on driving me to London himself, and coming from someone as private as Drew McAvoy, that gesture speaks louder than a thousand words.
As he finally starts the engine and the green landscape of the Midlands begins to blur past my window, I can’t help but wonder… will this always be home for me? Or will I grow new roots in London, strong and steady enough to take the place of the ones that have held me together all this time?