The Ink Black Heart, page 44
‘This is perfect,’ said Robin, smiling as she took a small tape recorder out of her bag and set it on the table near Tim. ‘It’s so kind of you to do this.’
‘Oh, not at all, not at all,’ said Tim.
His early baldness was at odds with his unlined face, which was boyish, with attractive mottled-green eyes.
‘Do we order here, or—?’ asked Robin.
‘Yeah, it’s table service,’ said Tim.
‘Lovely town,’ said Robin, peering out of the window at a beamed house opposite. ‘I’ve never been here before. My husband’s always told me how nice it is. He grew up in Chelmsford.’
‘Oh, really?’ said Tim, and they talked about Colchester and Chelmsford, which lay a mere thirty-minute drive away, for the time it took for a waitress to come and take their order for coffee. During this interval, Robin managed to mention that her husband, Ben, was a TV producer. Tim’s eyebrows twitched upwards at that, and his smile became still warmer.
Once their coffee had arrived, Robin switched on her tape recorder, checked it was working and fussed a little about it being near enough to Tim.
‘Would you mind just speaking a little, so I’m sure I’m getting this? Give me a bit of a monologue or something.’
Tim launched at once into Iago’s soliloquy:
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse.
For I mine own gained knowledge should profane
If I would time expend with such a snipe
But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor…
‘Wonderful!’ said Robin, and played it back. ‘OK, that’s working perfectly… Yes, actually, I won’t rewind, that was marvellous, I’ll keep it on there…’
And so the fake interview began, Robin asking the series of questions she’d worked out beforehand about the uses and applications of dramatic techniques in education. Tim spoke with enthusiasm about the pleasure of bringing theatre to young people, often in underprivileged areas, and Robin asked many follow-up questions and made notes.
‘… and I actually realised how much I enjoy it when a friend of mine – actually, it was Edie, um, Ledwell, who created The Ink Black Heart?’
‘Oh, so dreadful, what happened,’ said Robin sympathetically. ‘I’m terribly sorry.’
‘Thanks… yeah… well, it was Edie who’s sort of responsible for me liking to work with kids. She used to help run art classes for special-needs children at an art collective. I wasn’t working at the time, so she roped me in to help and I loved it. There’s such a freshness to the way kids look at the world.’
‘You draw, do you?’ asked Robin, smiling.
‘A bit,’ said Tim. ‘I’m not very good.’
‘Must be a challenge, getting young people interested in theatre. They spend their whole lives online these days, don’t they?’
‘Oh, we explore internet use during our drama workshops – online bullying, trolls and so on, you know.’
‘D’you have any children yourself?’
‘Not yet,’ said Tim, smiling. ‘Need to find someone happy to have them with me first.’
Robin smiled, agreed that would help, then kept asking her questions. She didn’t want to capitalise on his mention of Edie Ledwell yet, nor to discuss The Ink Black Heart before Tim had been thoroughly convinced that he and his career were the real reason she was here. She therefore mentioned his recent starring role at his local theatre, which pleased him.
‘I actually had to wear a wig for the part because my character was seen both in his teenage years and in middle age and – well –’
He pointed, smiling somewhat ruefully, at his head.
‘The funny thing is, the local critic thought the bald head was the fake.’
Robin laughed and said,
‘Well, he gave you a very nice review.’
‘Yeah, I was chuffed… I actually based some of the character on one of the kids who used to hang around North Grove.’
‘Around where, sorry?’ said Robin, still carefully ignorant of most things pertaining to The Ink Black Heart.
‘Oh, that was the art collective where I helped out with the kids’ classes. You know that kind of hunched-up “don’t look at me” thing teenagers get when they’re growing into their bodies?’ As he spoke, Tim unconsciously took on the posture he was describing, and whatever Allan Yeoman had said about his limitations as the comic voice of The Worm, Robin was impressed by the ease with which he conveyed shyness and self-consciousness by small alterations in his own posture. ‘He had really bad acne, this kid, and he always looked like he was trying to make himself as small as possible, and my character, Lionel, he’s – well, he’s pure evil, really, but in the play you go back and see him bullied and denigrated and… that’s something drama can do so well in schools, actually: explore issues from life like bullying or abuse…’
‘This is absolutely fantastic,’ said Robin a few minutes later. ‘God, I wish Ben could hear this – my husband, I mean. He’s actually putting together a proposal for Channel 4 right now. He wants to take actors into a really deprived London school to work intensively with the kids. It’s a constant fight to keep funding for the arts, especially under the Tories, so, potentially, he’d be making a really strong argument against cuts.’
‘Wow, that sounds great,’ said Tim, raising his now-cold coffee to his lips and taking a sip in an attempt to hide (or so Robin suspected) the sudden eagerness of his expression.
‘Yeah. The project’s still at a very early stage, but I’m not going to lie,’ said Robin, smiling, ‘that’s part of the reason I’m here. Ben thought, with your background working in schools – plus the fact that you were in The Ink Black Heart – would be a selling point with the production company. It’s instant connection with kids who live on YouTube, isn’t it, who’ve never been in theatres in their lives?’
‘Yeah, I s’pose,’ said Tim, ‘although, of course’ – he gave an awkward little laugh – ‘some of them might despise me for ever having been in it.’
‘What d’you mean by that?’ asked Robin, carefully surprised.
Tim glanced at the tape recorder, so Robin shut it off at once. There was no need for him to know that a second recording device was still running in her open bag.
‘Well,’ said Tim, ‘given my time again… Actually, I feel disloyal saying it.’
Robin continued to look politely receptive.
‘I – well, I loved Edie, I really did. She was fantastic. But, to be honest, I might not have taken the part if she hadn’t been a friend. It’s pretty problematic, that cartoon, you know.’
‘I must admit,’ said Robin, faux-sheepishly, ‘I don’t really know much about it. I just knew it was a huge success. Actually, one of the people at Ben’s production company, Damian, is trying to make a programme about it – it’s really down to Damian that I’ve even heard of it. I suppose I’m a bit older than the target demographic.’
‘So was I,’ said Tim, and Robin laughed again. ‘I guess as time went on I got more and more uncomfortable with certain aspects of the characters and storylines. I don’t know whether you’ve heard of Wally Cardew? He was playing a character called Drek, which is – God, I feel such a shit for saying this, but he was clearly a Jewish caricature.’
‘Really?’ said Robin.
‘Yeah, you know: big nose, lived in the biggest mausoleum and kind of manipulated all the other characters. I tried to raise it with Edie. Fans were talking about it. We had a row about it, actually. She claimed Drek had nothing to do with Jewish people, that he was a kind of chaotic demon and she’d been inspired by a plague doctor’s mask, but I mean, we all need to examine our unconscious biases, right?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Robin, nodding.
‘And then Wally, who was the voice of Drek, did a YouTube video laughing about the Holocaust, so, you know – point proven.’
‘Oh, wow,’ said Robin, shaking her head.
‘Yeah. Josh and Edie sacked him, but the damage was done,’ sighed Tim. ‘And it wasn’t only Drek. Josh and Edie’s sense of humour was – it could be problematic. Kind of dark and sometimes a bit… I told her I didn’t want to read any more lines about The Worm being confused about being a boy or a girl, because we’d had complaints from non-binary kids. That caused another row. “A worm is a hermaphrodite, though.”’ Tim shook his head sadly. ‘Edie had had a difficult childhood. You couldn’t blame her for being – not ignorant, but…’
Tim seemed unable to think of an alternative word and simply shrugged.
‘This is exactly the kind of discussion we should be having on the reality show, if it’s made,’ said Robin earnestly. ‘It could be so powerful, listening to you deconstructing biases and so on. Actually – this is a bit off-topic, but Damian’s trying to track down people who knew Edie Ledwell. He wants to make a sympathetic, balanced programme. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in talking to him?’
‘Er… I don’t know,’ said Tim uncertainly. ‘You know, given that she’s only recently… and with all the controversy around the cartoon… I don’t know whether I’d want—’
‘Totally understand,’ said Robin, holding up a hand. ‘No, I’ll tell Damian it’s a no-go. You wouldn’t know anyone who’d like to talk? Anyone who was close to her?’
‘Well, Edie was kind of solitary, to tell you the truth. She didn’t have that many friends. There was a foster sister, though. She might be able to help. And Edie was in a new relationship when she died. Guy called Phil Ormond?’
‘Yes, I think Damian knows about him.’
‘I didn’t much like Ormond,’ mumbled Tim. ‘He… Well, I’d better not say too much.’
‘No, of course not,’ said Robin, but her expression remained encouraging.
‘She… I don’t think it was a very healthy relationship, let’s put it that way. I told her to get out. I wish she had.’
‘You aren’t suggesting—?’
‘Oh, Christ no!’ said Tim, with what looked like panic. ‘No, I don’t think he – God, no. No, I’m sure that far-right group’s responsible. That’s where all the trouble in the fandom was coming from, because of Drek. All these alt-right guys loved him. They started using his catchphrases and everything, and then, after Wally was sacked, they all went ballistic and started to attack Edie.
‘Personally, if I’d been her, I’d have written the character out of the cartoon. Made a stand. I mean, if the alt-right find your jokes funny, should you be making them at all? Not that – I’m obviously not saying it was her fault or – because, obviously, what happened was bloody terrible. But art should be moral, right?’ said Tim.
‘Oh, absolutely,’ said Robin.
‘Right,’ said Tim, looking reassured. ‘I genuinely examine every new project from that standpoint. I ask myself, “What’s this saying?” and also, “How could it be interpreted?” “Are there groups that might be harmed by this play?” – or production or whatever. “Does it deal in stereotypes or harmful tropes?” I don’t think Edie ever thought things through like that and… well…’
‘How did you two first meet?’ asked Robin.
‘Bar work,’ said Tim with a rueful smile. ‘We both got jobs in a bar in the West End, not far from Shaftesbury Avenue. I was between acting jobs and she was taking art classes and living in some dive of a flat. That was before she moved into North Grove and met Josh Blay.’
‘That’s her co-creator? Yes, Damian asked to speak to him but apparently he’s still not well enough.’
‘No, I – I heard he’s in pretty bad shape.’
There was a slight pause, and then a torrent of words burst from Ashcroft.
‘It’s been bloody terrible for all of us – I mean, obviously it has – our friend’s been murdered – and we’ve all been interviewed by the police, all of us who had any connection with the cartoon. I had to give a bloody alibi, if you can believe it,’ said Tim with a half-laugh of disbelief. ‘To tell you the truth, lately I’ve just been kind of worried I’ll be tarred by The Ink Black Heart for ever, so you asking to talk to me about the Roving School Players – I was, I know this sounds stupid, but I was really pleased, I felt like I was getting a chance to kind of be appreciated – not appreciated, but you know what I mean – for my other work. I just want to move forwards and make a positive difference in the world if I can.’
‘That’s obvious,’ said Robin warmly. ‘I can only imagine how stressful and upsetting all this has been for all of you. Having to give an alibi—!’
‘I mean, I had a cast-iron one,’ said Tim, watching Robin anxiously, ‘it isn’t as if – I was with someone all afternoon and evening, and they confirmed it, and the police are happy, so that’s that. But social media can be a kind of scary place. I mean, people can say anything about you on there. Twist stuff, make things up…’
‘So true,’ sighed Robin.
‘The whole situation’s already had real-life consequences for me. I had to leave – well, I didn’t have to leave, but I was living in London, sharing a flat with a friend, and he pretty much asked me to move out because the police came round and I assume he thinks the alt-right’ll start targeting him next or something. This is a guy I’ve known for years. He broke his leg six months ago and I was ferrying him around everywhere and – sorry, I don’t know why I’m – I don’t want to bother my parents with all this. Christ, you come here to talk about education and I’m banging on about – sorry.’
‘Please,’ said Robin, ‘don’t apologise. Of course you’re shaken up. Who wouldn’t be?’
‘Right,’ said Tim, looking slightly reassured, ‘and if there’s a chance – I mean, if you really think I’d be a good fit for your drama in schools programme, I’d rather you heard the truth from me than, you know, go looking me up on Twitter or whatever and find out the police questioned me. But as I say, I wasn’t the only one they questioned. I know they went to Wally Cardew and this guy Pez as well, who only voiced one of the characters for two episodes… But you didn’t come here to talk about all this, so, yeah – sorry. It’s been a difficult time.’
‘Really,’ said Robin, ‘it’s fine. I totally understand.’
‘Thanks… I seriously didn’t mean to lay all this on you.’
Robin took a sip of coffee before saying,
‘Damian told me the fandom’s kind of crazy.’
‘Some of them are a bit obsessive, yeah,’ said Tim, with another half-laugh.
‘He was telling me about some troll who’s quite a bully online,’ said Robin.
‘Anomie?’
‘Yes, I think so,’ said Robin, feigning surprise that Tim had the name on the tip of his tongue.
‘Oh, everyone who was connected to The Ink Black Heart knows who Anomie is,’ said Tim. ‘I mean, not who they are, but knows about them… Although I actually do think I know who it is,’ Tim added.
‘You do?’ said Robin, trying to sound only mildly interested.
‘Yeah. If I’m right, she’s very young and kind of disturbed. I think most of these trolls need to feel important, you know? I find most of the really difficult kids, at our workshops…’
Five minutes and several anecdotes about the beneficial effect of drama on troubled teenagers later, Tim paused for breath.
‘That’s all fabulous,’ said Robin, who’d had the presence of mind to turn the recording device back on. ‘Pity you couldn’t get that Ano-thingy on one of your courses.’
‘Yes, I think it would help her, I really do,’ said Tim seriously.
‘You couldn’t tell me, confidentially, who you think it is?’ asked Robin, with a coaxing smile. ‘Off the record. Damian would be so thrilled to interview her – you know, a warts-and-all picture of the fandom.’
‘No, I – I couldn’t do that,’ said Tim. ‘I might be wrong, mightn’t I? Anyway, if it is her, it could tip her over the edge completely.’
‘Oh,’ said Robin, now looking concerned, ‘if it’s a case of mental illness—’
‘I’m not sure she’s actually mentally ill, but I know she’s been in trouble with the police already and… No, I wouldn’t want to be throwing accusations around.’
Enormously frustrated, Robin glanced down at her notes and said,
‘Well, I think I’ve got everything I need here. This has been such a pleasure. I know Ben’s going to be fascinated by everything you’ve… Oh,’ said Robin, pretending to notice something left unanswered. ‘Who’s Pez, by the way? Is that someone else Damian should talk to? Is that their real name?’
‘No,’ said Tim.
The silence went on a little longer than Robin had expected. She’d only asked about Pez to try to lead the conversation back to The Ink Black Heart and Anomie one last time. Looking up, she saw that Ashcroft’s mouth was hanging open, as though he’d been paused onscreen. He unfroze a split-second later and smiled.
‘His real name’s just passed clean out of my head,’ he said. ‘God. I mean, we barely knew each other, but I should be able to… Pez… Pez. What was his bloody name?… no, sorry, it’s gone. But he didn’t actually know Edie, not properly, to be honest, so – or not, you know, very well at all.’
‘Not to worry,’ said Robin with a shrug and a smile. ‘Damian can always get the name from the credits if he needs it.’
‘Yeah… but as I say, Pez didn’t – he’s actually quite a… what’s the word? I’m not saying a fantasist exactly, but… No, I’m just saying I wouldn’t put much credence on stuff Pez says. He’s the kind of guy who says stuff for shock value. You know the type.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Robin, still smiling, but very interested in this assertion.
‘Only I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about Edie. Pez isn’t… What was his bloody name?’ said Tim with an unconvincing laugh.
They took their leave of each other outside the bar, both smiling as they shook hands. When Robin glanced back thirty seconds later she saw Tim was still standing where she’d left him, typing fast on his phone.
46
I dreamed, and saw a modern Hell, more dread
