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“D’you think you could read a bit of Shakespeare with me?”

He sighed. “If I must.”

I said, “Please?”

“All right, all right! Anything to oblige. What are we reading?”

“Romeo and Juliet. The balcony scene.”

“Oh.” He sat down next to me on the bed. “Slurpy lurv!”

“It’s not!” I was indignant. “It’s beautiful!”

“You think?”

I flapped at him with my Penguin Shakespeare. “You know your trouble?” I said. “You are just so unromantic.”

“Yup! That’s me.”

“Romeo and Juliet is one of the world’s greatest love stories.”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“I don’t know how Danny puts up with you. If I were him I’d—”

“Well, you’re not, so just get on with it. Romeo, Romeo—”

“But you’ve got a great long speech before Juliet comes in.”

“Soft what light through yonder window breaks it is the east and Juliet is the sun blah blah blah …do you really expect me to wade through all that?”

“Maybe just the last few lines?”

“Let’s skip straight to Juliet. Go on! Off you go.”

“Ay, me?”

“No! Her first actual speech … there.”

He jabbed a finger on to the page. I immediately sprang up and made like I was standing on my balcony, staring out into the orchard.

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and—”

“Hang about, hang about!” Sean held up a hand. “Gotta stop you right there. What exactly do you think she’s saying?”

“Well …” I knew what she was saying. It was obvious! “Romeo, Romeo, where are you?”

“Wrong. What she’s saying is, why oh why do you have to be called Romeo? If only he were called something else … in other words, if only he weren’t a Montagu. Anything but a Montagu!”

He could obviously see the disbelief on my face.

“Look, there’s a family feud, yes?” I nodded. “She’s a Capulet: they’re never going to let her marry a Montagu. So it’s not Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo, it’s Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”

I was still doubtful. “Are you sure that’s what it means?”

“I know that’s what it means.”

“How?” I said. “How do you know?”

“I know many things,” said Sean, smugly.

“So … you’re saying that wherefore means why?”

“Back in Shakespeare’s time,” said Sean.

I found myself torn between relief that at least he had told me so that I wouldn’t make an idiot of myself if I was chosen to read Juliet, and a feeling of annoyance that Sean, who didn’t even like the play, obviously understood it better than I did.

“If you want to know the truth,” he said, “the last time the company did the ballet was when I’d just started at the school and we all had to read the play and every single one of us got it wrong. Including me. That make you feel better?”

I nodded, gratefully. “What I don’t understand,” I said, “is why you don’t dance Romeo?”

“I will, I will! Probably next season.”

“It would make Caitlyn ever so happy. It really upsets her when Mercutio gets killed.”

“That’s one of my favourite bits!”

Cheekily I said, “Yes, I saw you staggering about, hamming it up.” I stumbled off across the bedroom floor, writhing and choking and clutching at myself in agony.

“Honestly, the nerve of it,” said Sean. “It asks me to give up my valuable time reading through some piece of romantic rubbish—”

“That’s why you don’t dance Romeo,” I said. “You’re obviously terrified of showing emotion!”

“Button it,” said Sean. “Any more smart mouth and I’ll leave you to get on with it by yourself. Start again, and try to make better sense of it this time.”

My hard work paid off! Two days later, when we had English again, Ms Turnbull chose me to read Juliet. By then I knew the scene so well I could have done it without the book. Oliver, who was reading Romeo, stumbled a bit but I pretended to myself that that was because he was hiding in the Capulets’ orchard, where he was in danger of being discovered at any moment. Maybe even by the vengeful Tybalt.

Afterwards Ms Turnbull thanked me for reading so well. She said I’d really brought Juliet to life.

“And congratulations for getting the first line right … Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? It’s the first time I’ve ever known anyone do so!” And then, since everybody was looking puzzled: “It doesn’t mean what you probably all think it means. Tell them, Maddy! What is Juliet saying?”

“She’s saying, why oh why do you have to be called Romeo?”

I managed to do it without blushing. It might have been Sean who’d set me right, but I thought I should be allowed to take some credit. I had, after all, put in a lot of effort, reading the scene over and over and over again, which I didn’t think anyone else had.I just wished there was someone I could tell about it. Mum, Dad, Sean … Hey, guess what? Ms Turnbull thanked me for reading so well. She said I really brought Juliet to life!

They would all be polite about it – well, Mum and Dad would be. Sean would probably claim it was all thanks to him. But none of them would truly be able to understand how important it was. How much it meant to me! I could only hug it to myself and bask in a warm glow of satisfaction.