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moonchildreads · 4 months

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Chapter 24 - Up Where We Belong

IN THIS CHAPTER: Graduation gowns, strawberry milkshakes, and Wayne asks a question [9.9k]

WARNINGS: dealing with grief (nancy, dottie, eddie to a less extent), writer not knowing how graduations are in the us

A/N: happy new year!!!! i hope everyone is having a wonderful start of 2024, here's your belated christmas gift from yours truly. if you read this and think "that's not how that works", then i don't know what to tell you bestie but i tried. i watched a TON of graduation ceremonies on youtube and i pulled heavily from those, aside from borrowing things from my own not-american graduation. i hope you enjoy it anyways! (and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!) <3

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All we have is here and now All our life, out there to find

Friday, June 13th - 1986

Wayne Munson had walked the halls of Hawkins High School several times throughout recent years courtesy of his nephew’s misbehaving, but never making it past Principal Higgins’ office was turning out to be a problem. Resigned, he stomped on his cigarette gently before following a family that looked like they knew where they were going, regretting not taking up Eddie’s offer to escort him inside before he disappeared in search of his friends and fellow graduates. Graduation. Ain’t that a funny thing to think about, Wayne mused. The auditorium, he noted as he finally found it, was decorated in bright orange and calming forest green, a Class of 1986 paper banner hanging from the dark curtain that was doing its job as an unassuming background at the very back of the room. On the stage, there was a regal-looking wooden lectern, and a small table with stacked up rolls of paper tied with orange and green ribbons; next to it, a bunch of black chairs where teachers would probably be sitting during the event had been carefully lined up into a single row.

Excitement filled the air. It was in the murmurs of the people taking their seats, skimming their programs to proudly find the names of their kids printed on the semi-matte paper. It was in the way the school’s faculty could not stand still, barely having time to say hello to everyone walking in before they were off to check yet another little detail so everything could go as smoothly as possible. Wayne walked down the central aisle trying to find a good spot to sit in while feeling a bead of sweat go down his back. The last time he’d worn a suit, any suit, had been to his mother’s funeral eight years before; in fact, he still only owned that one suit. The temperature in Hawkins was steadily rising as June turned into July, and Wayne felt incredibly stuffy in his clothes but he didn’t dare wear anything less for such a special day. Eddie had defied all odds and was now a High School Graduate, the first Munson to walk to stage in three generations. Truth be told, his Uncle was willing to bet that he was actually the first one to do so in their entire family history, and thus, Wayne wore the suit, and the shirt, and the tie, and searched for a seat near the front to witness his nephew doing the exact opposite of what the whole town had always expected him to do: succeed.

Bianca, Donny’s mom, was fussing over her youngest grandson, Francesco, when she saw Wayne looking a little lost in the crowd and waved at him to wordlessly invite him to sit with them. The eldest Munson approached them with a smile, settling himself on the row behind the Vitale family who was so very busy trying to keep little Francesco and his (barely) older cousin Marco from running down the aisles and bothering other families.

“Good to see y’all made it,” Wayne commented, shaking Donny’s dad Angelo’s hand before turning to Vittoria, Donny’s heavily pregnant older sister. “Though I coulda sworn I heard you were on bed rest, missy.”

“I am, but what my doctor doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she laughed, hand resting over her swollen belly. “This little lady hasn’t stopped kicking me all day, I think she’s more excited than I am to finally be outside the house!”

“It’s a special day, I’m sure the doctor won’t mind too much as long as we take it slow,” her husband said, kissing the side of her head. “Say hi to Mr. Munson, Marco.”

“Hi!” the little boy said, standing between his parents’ seats. “Whose Grandpa are you?”

“Marco!” his dad exclaimed, but Wayne laughed loudly.

“That’s not a grandpa, you dummy! That’s Eddie’s dad,” said Francesco, before grabbing his cousin’s hand and leading him towards Nonna Giulia down the row in search of the candy she always kept in her purse.

“I’m sorry,” Vittoria said with an apologetic smile. “They read this picture book about families at pre-school and now he thinks all men with white hair are grandpas.”

“Ah, it’s fine. I know I’m not gettin’ any younger,” Wayne joked, his eyes straying to the side of the auditorium where the seniors were finally getting ushered into formation.

The Vitale family craned their necks to see their boy, and Wayne in turn searched for his: Eddie was standing near Jeff towards the middle of the line, the two of them engaged in conversation as they waited for everyone to get into their respective places. It wasn’t that Eddie wasn’t paying attention to what his friend was saying; he was clearly answering back and keeping the chat going, but it seemed to his Uncle that he was searching for someone in the crowd, eyes scanning rows of unknown family members for a face he hadn’t yet found. Wayne was about to lift his hand to let him know where he was sitting, but it soon became apparent that Eddie hadn’t been looking for him - he had been looking for the short haired girl who had just ran into the auditorium with a panicked look on her face and an askew cap on her head.

Dottie hurried over to where her classmates were standing, enveloping a curly haired girl Wayne wasn’t familiar with at the very back of the line in an enthusiastic hug before doing the same with Donny. Wayne saw with an amused smile how Eddie waited patiently for his turn while she hugged Jeff, and how all his anxiety looked like it was melting away as he embraced her, eyes closed and face buried in her hair. After saying their hellos, Dottie kept walking to the front of the line where she greeted a strawberry blonde girl with excited hops and shared an equally loving hug with both her and Gareth. Her dad watched her with a fond smile from his place near the doors, a program held tightly in his hands. Taking pity on the poor man who Wayne knew was attending the event alone much like he was, he motioned for James to join their mismatched group who gladly took the offer, walking briskly towards the still empty seat next to Eddie’s uncle. James greeted Donny’s family before getting comfortable on his wooden chair and let a long breath out. Finally.

“Long morning?” Wayne asked, knowingly.

“Be grateful you don’t have a teenage girl in your house, Wayne. It was near impossible to get here on time,” James scoffed.

“Can’t be worse than Ed’s allergy to his damn alarm clock. It went off for a whole 15 minutes before he got up today.”

“Did it wake you up?”

“Nah. Was already up reading the paper but I wasn’t about to turn it off for him. He just rolls over and keeps sleeping if I do,” he said, and James shook his head with an affectionate smile on his face.

“Teenagers, right?”

“Yup. Teenagers.”

Over the few short months Wayne and James had known each other, they had learned to appreciate the quiet but hard work the other did for their respective kid. It wasn’t easy to be a single father, and even though Wayne wasn’t Eddie’s biological dad, there was no doubt in James’ mind that he fulfilled that role wonderfully in the boy’s life and heart. The Munsons and the Burkes had gone through a lot over the years, that much was undeniable, but on that hot Friday morning both fathers could be proud that their kids had made it to the other side relatively unharmed, all the while somehow finding each other to rely on along the way. If Dottie and Eddie were going to be inseparable all summer as they had been since the day they met, it was only fair James and Wayne got to compare notes on parenting and commiserate over the little annoying things they’d miss once the kids had left the comforting safety of their family homes.

Before they could continue their talk however, teachers began herding the seniors into a neat single file and getting into their places on the stage, Principal Higgins taking his spot behind the lectern. Excitement amplified as the crowd hushed - only suppressed coughs and a few little children’s voices could be heard in the quiet room. Wayne saw Higgins approach the mic and took a deep breath letting the pride he’d been feeling all morning take over him. The heat of the almost-here summer was forgotten outside in the parking lot, along with his smushed cigarette butt and the heavy weight he’d been carrying since a CPS agent left a scared 8-year-old Eddie on his doorstep all those years ago.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Hawkins High School Principal Thomas Higgins,” the man began, voice booming across the room with the aid of loudspeakers; Dorothy peered at him over the shoulder of the taller girl standing in front of her. “On behalf of the faculty, staff, and administration of Hawkins High, we’d like to welcome family and friends, and most importantly, to our seniors to the Commencement Exercises of the Graduating Class of 1986.”

Higgins paused for effect and the crowd followed his cue by breaking into happy applause - the aforementioned seniors gleefully waved to the few family members they could find within the sea of heads straining to look at them. The Class of ‘86 stood patiently to the side towards the back of the auditorium, waiting to be called into the main aisle where their names would be announced one by one and they’d go up the stage, accept their diploma, and go back downstairs to the rows of chairs at the front left that had been reserved for them. The full graduating class was small, no more than 40 students, and Dottie wondered how different things would have been for her if she were graduating with her New York classmates in a year that comprised around 400 kids instead of doing it in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Please, rise from your seats and join us in singing the National Anthem, followed by the Hawkins High School Spirit Song,” Higgins announced, and the sound of creaking wooden chairs filled the air as everyone followed his request.

Dottie sang along to the National Anthem without thinking too much about it, but when the first notes of the Hawkins High school song came through the speakers, she realized she had no idea what the lyrics were. No one had told her they’d be singing it during their only rehearsal, and certainly no one had spared a moment to teach it to her in the last six months. She wasn’t even sure she knew a spirit song even existed before that very moment. Eyes surveying over the crowd of family members, she saw that most if not all were singing along - the only ones not joining in were probably those who hadn’t attended Hawkins High and lived in a different town, perhaps even in a different state altogether. Heat rising up her chest under her dark green gown, she turned her head to the front, feeling very much like an outsider amongst her peers for the first time in months. Bryan Butler right behind her sang louder as the song was ending and she tried to not call attention to herself to let him take the spotlight. Once the music stopped, Principal Higgins neared the lectern to continue his speech.

“Thank you, you may be seated now,” Higgins said, and the wooden creaking resumed for a second as everyone sat back down to watch the rest of the ceremony. “The Hawkins High School Class of 1986 has experienced many memorable moments over the last four years, and Hawkins is proud of how these young graduates have worked and persevered through hard times to get to this day. We as faculty could not be prouder or more thrilled to celebrate with them, and we look forward to sending them off onto the next chapter in their lives. Parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and other family members, we are honored to have you here today as our guests to celebrate our graduates and we thank you for your support. Please clap along as the Class of 1986 proceeds to their places.”

The speakers began playing Pomp and Circumstance March No.1 in D and the crowd broke into fervent applause once more, Michael Allen leading the way for his fellow seniors to stand in the central aisle right below the middle set of stairs where they’d wait to be called to the stage. As they fell into their designated spots, Dottie finally recognized who had been assigned to stand right in front of her; it was Robin Buckley, the shy band nerd she had met at Family Video a few weeks earlier and briefly bonded with over their shared love of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. She was wearing white Converse sneakers with little drawings in blue and black ink, and the edges of her black rolled up jeans could be seen poking below her gown. She’s so cool, Dottie thought, not knowing that Robin was desperately trying not to scan the audience lest her nerves paralyzed her. Not even painting her nails bright orange had saved them from being chewed on this time around.

“Hawkins High School’s Class of 1986 was given the opportunity to choose a member of our staff to read their names as they cross the stage today,” Principal Higgins explained as three people already on stage stood from their seats. “I am honored to announce that this year, our Assistant Principal Mrs. Elaine Chandler will present the diplomas to our newest graduates. Mrs. Suzanne O’Donnell, Mr. Leopold Hauser, and myself will present them with their diploma cover, graduation medallions, and honor cords if applicable. Elaine?” he motioned for her to switch places with him.

“Thank you, Principal Higgins,” said Assistant Principal Elaine Chandler, adjusting her glasses on her nose as she looked down the list of names in front of her. “Allen, Michael,” she called first from behind the lectern, and the crowd clapped as Michael went up to her and received a hug and a rolled up certificate before moving down the stage towards the other teachers to shake their hands.

Dottie’s palms began sweating as more names kept being called and her time as a Hawkins High student slowly came to an end. Even though she had felt very much like an intruder looking in through a window during her first few months in the town, she had to admit that was happy here now - certainly much more happier than she’d ever been back in New York. Here all the teachers knew her name without having to read it from a file. Here she had a group of friends she’d go to literal Hell and back for, and she had a boyfriend who loved her the way she’d always thought love should be: easy and gentle. Here she had attended the best prom of her life, and her face would be permanently attached to a club that had given her the safety she’d never gotten anywhere else to finally, truthfully, be herself. Here Dottie had been at home.

While Barnes, Kathleen was getting her extracurricular honor cords for being part of the cheerleading team, Mrs. Chandler called upon Buckley, Robin and Dottie suddenly found herself at the front of the line. Robin climbed the steps with as much grace as she could muster while being pretty much mortified, and Mrs. Chandler soothed her with friendly pats on her back before presenting her with her diploma. The tall girl accepted it with shaky hands, her rings glinting under the stage lights, when a loud cheer rang above the polite applause of the crowd. Robin laughed, half embarrassed and half grateful, and when Dottie turned to see where the sounds were coming from, she found not only Dustin and Erica hooting and hollering besides a couple who were clearly Robin’s parents, but also that Steve guy that worked at Family Video with her, the one that Robin had described as her strictly platonic best friend with a capital P. It looked like retail did bond you forever after all.

Mr. and Mrs. Buckley looked between confused and amused as Steve pinched his bottom lip and let out a loud whistle - a chortle escaped Robin’s mouth while a cheerful Mr. Hauser, who had been her favorite teacher all four years of high school, put her graduation medallion around her neck, nerves all but forgotten before she skipped her way down to Mrs. O’Donnell to receive her extracurricular honor cords for being in band. Huh, that’s curious, Dottie thought distractedly. Didn’t know Dustin and Erica were such good friends with her and Steve. I wonder how they met.

“Burke, Dorothy,” called Mrs. Chandler through the speakers, jostling Dottie out of her musings.

This was it. The moment of truth. Dottie climbed the stairs and accepted a hug from Mrs. Chandler, hearing her friends cheering for her loudly in the background when her damp fingers came into contact with her diploma. She glanced at the crowd and time seemed to stop when her eyes found her Dad, a proud smile on his face and his program tucked under his armpit so he could clap loudly for his daughter. She waved at him and Wayne, who had also stood up to cheer for her, and time resumed after a blinding flash went off and she was whisked along to where the rest of the teachers were standing. She shook hands with both Principal Higgins and Mr. Hauser even though she hardly knew both men, and accepted her diploma cover and her graduation medallion before turning towards Mrs. O’Donnell. She was about to hug her teacher when the old woman presented her with her own honor cords, entwined green and orange ending in delicate tassels dangling from her manicured hands.

“That’s not- I’m not-” Dottie began.

“You have one of the highest GPAs in your year, besides being involved in two extracurriculars. Congratulations, Miss Burke. You’ve earned this,” O’Donnell said, and it was perhaps the only time in the whole semester Dottie had seen her genuinely smile.

“T-thank you,” she managed to get out, letting the woman drape the cords on her shoulders and rushing to her seat before she began bawling on stage.

“Hey, congrats!” Robin whispered once they were both seated next to each other, shaking her own cords lightly. The ceremony continued with no regards to their little chat.

“You too! Didn’t know I had qualified for any of this, I think everyone saw me have an aneurism up there.”

“Nah, everyone’s too nervous about not tripping down the stairs on their way back, don’t worry about it.”

“Coleman, Gareth,” Mrs. Chandler announced, grabbing Dottie’s attention.

Carver, Jason hadn’t even reached the sidestage stairs to go down after accepting his diploma when Gareth, in his haste to get everything over with, tried to climb two steps at a time and got his feet tangled in his dark green gown. Cunningham, Chrissy, who was right behind him, quickly caught his arm before he could lose balance and hit the floor. He quietly thanked her with red cheeks and embarrassed eyes before he finally went up the stairs, one step at a time. Chrissy went back to the front of the line while other classmates around Dottie and Robin snickered at the little mishap; Gareth accepted his diploma and other paraphernalia, and got the hell off the stage as quickly as humanly possible.

“Thank God that wasn’t me,” Robin muttered, and Dottie grimaced in agreement.

Gareth ended up awkwardly sitting between Jason and Chrissy, but much to his relief, they had all been assigned to the row behind Dottie. Taking advantage of the proximity, he leaned forward to talk to his friend as the ceremony progressed and Chrissy quickly joined, stopping to give Dottie a kiss on her cheek from her seat behind her as a second greeting. Jason watched the scene unfold and asked himself when had his girlfriend started hanging out with people he didn’t know. He thought he knew everything about Chrissy - when had that changed and to what extent? Selfishly, he couldn’t help but think about what the future would look like for them when they left for college. Chrissy was headed to OSU and he would be at Indiana State, almost four hours and more than 250 miles between them. Would this be their last summer together? He didn’t like to entertain that thought.

Davis, Monica, Foster, Kyle, and Hanson, Randall were some of the names they didn’t pay much attention to until Humphrey, Andrew was called to the stage. Jason distracted himself from his anxiety over his relationship possibly having an expiration date by clapping loudly for his best friend. Dottie and Gareth shared a mischievous look: Andy wasn’t wearing any bandages on his nose anymore, but the dark purple shadow under his eye was still very visible with the bright stage lights illuminating his face. After him came Hurley, Marcie, one of Dot’s colleagues from the newspaper club, and Kemper, Lucy, the girl who had sold almost everyone their prom tickets. Morgan, Theresa was on stage when Dottie realized she knew almost all the people in her graduating class by name now, even if they had never spoken to one another before. In New York, she’d never known the names of all the people within a single class, not since elementary school at least. She wondered if they remembered her, but then decided she didn’t care that the answer was probably a resounding no.

When Munson, Edward was called to the stage, Dottie and Gareth stood up to make as much noise as possible, both infinitely proud of the long haired boy with the charming eyes who was accepting the one piece of paper that had seemed so elusive all this time. Dustin and Erica hollered at him, and the rest of the Hellfire Club, still in line waiting to accept their diplomas, joined them in their antics. When Principal Higgins went in for a handshake, Eddie pulled him into a hug; the older man laughed and let it happen, a sort of fondness for the metalhead’s unwavering resilience present in their interaction. He accepted his medallion and his own honor cords for being the Chapter Leader of a student organization, and just before he climbed off, he approached the edge of the stage with a dazzling grin.

“Here it comes,” Dottie muttered, anticipating her boyfriend to give the middle finger to the entire town and bolt as he had declared he’d do on multiple occasions.

What Eddie did instead was find his Uncle in the crowd and bow deeply in his direction as people clapped for him like it was the end of a play. Wayne pretended to not be choking back tears as his nephew got off the stage, lips pursed behind his fingers trying to hide the grin threatening to break out on his face.

“Coward,” Gareth said, and Chrissy hit him in the shoulder.

There was no time for Eddie to do anything more but find his seat, because immediately after him came Patton, Jeffrey, and exactly ten names later, came Vitale, Donatello. The teachers laughed and cooed at his excited nephews jumping up and down the aisle, cheering for his favorite Uncle. One day in the not so distant future, they’d probably be handing them their diplomas too. Just how many faces in the crowd had walked through these same halls, attended the same classes, and some of them even had the same teachers as the Class of ‘86? A much younger and recently married O’Donnell, a Higgins as a History teacher prior to his Principal days, a Kaminski after his eldest son had just been born. Never before had the kids in the Hellfire Club felt as much part of the Hawkins High community as they did now - it almost felt unfair that they had to permanently leave the place to finally feel that way.

“And last, but certainly not least,” said Mrs. Chandler when there was only one person left to climb up the stage. “-Wheeler, Nancy, the valedictorian for the Class of 1986 who will say a few words for us and her fellow graduates after receiving her diploma.”

The crowd broke once again in loud applause as a red cheeked Nancy in her dark green gown and bright orange valedictorian stole greeted all her teachers with a few flashcards containing her speech in her hand. Karen Wheeler looked at her daughter with shiny eyes, infinitely proud of her little girl that’d grown into a smart, capable woman right in front of her. In a few months she’d be far away, following her dreams, and taking a piece of her mother’s hopes with her as she did so, but none of her fears. Holly raised her arms, silently asking to be lifted up so she could see better, and Karen picked up her youngest daughter, pointing at her big sister in the distance so she could wave at her. Nancy took her place behind the lectern and looked at the audience, a carefully put together mask over bittersweet eyes that Dottie had almost become used to seeing on her friend. If she stared into a mirror too deeply, she could recognize the dents in her skin of her own mask, now laying shattered at her feet.

“Honorable guests, Principal Higgins, Hawkins High School faculty, academic and supporting staff, friends, families, and graduates - good morning,” Nancy began, voice soft but pleasantly clear. “It is with great pride that I stand here before you on such a special occasion to deliver this speech, which I promise I’ll try to keep short and sweet,” she lightheartedly smiled at her audience before she grew solemn once more. “However, before I start, I would like to ask you to join me in a moment of silence to commemorate the students and family members who could not be here today with us, and to remember the victims of the Starcourt Mall Fire on July 4th, 1985.”

Not a sound could be heard for a few heartbeats, and Dottie watched the faces of the town she’d come to love morph from amused to weary. There was real mourning here, a deep gash left open in a community that couldn’t heal properly because some wounds were just too deep to scab over. Eddie had told her everything he knew about what had happened, the official story everyone that hadn’t been involved in the tragedy repeated when asked, and her heart constricted when she saw Dustin and Erica in their seats with their heads down. They looked downright haunted. Steve sat next to them, watching over them with such turmoil in his eyes that Dottie had to wonder if there was something they were all missing about what happened. Had Steve also been in the mall with them? Had Robin, who was quietly sitting next to her like she was reliving a horror movie behind her eyes, her fingers absentmindedly tangling and untangling themselves in her honor cords?

Karen, sitting next to her unaware husband and emotionally closed off son, took a few deep breaths to keep her tears at bay and gently kissed Holly’s head before shifting her baby on her lap to hold her against her chest more tightly, like someone could snatch her off her arms at any given moment. Dottie twisted her mom’s engagement ring on her left middle finger and bit the inside of her cheek while blinking away the wetness gathering on her lash line. Not now, she scolded herself. Later.

“Thank you,” Nancy said, breaking the silence and moving onto her next flashcard. “Four years ago, we arrived at Hawkins High as children, and we are now leaving as young adults with our whole lives ahead of us. Some will go on to college, others will enter the workforce, but all of us will take the lessons learned here and let them guide us to become who we were always meant to be,” she turned to look to her side. “I'd like to thank our teachers for sharing their knowledge with us, for being patient and pushing us to achieve great things. With their help, our Hawkins High Mathletes reached their first ever state finals and brought home the silver medal earlier this year.”

There was a loud cheer coming from somewhere in the auditorium that sounded very much like Rick Stewart, exiting Captain of the Hawkins High Mathletes. Some people laughed goodnaturedly and joined in, the teachers clapping proudly at their labor being recognized. Nancy smiled and continued, knowing the applause would only get louder as she read the next part of her speech.

“I'd like to thank our coaches and counselors for making school more than just homework. You taught us about discipline, teamwork, and integrity, which led our basketball team to win the 1A North Central Conference Championship for the first time in 22 years,” the applause that followed was deafening, and it took several minutes for it to die down before Nancy could keep going. “I'd like to thank our families for supporting us in more ways that we could ever count, for chaperoning our dances and field trips, cheering for us at our sporting events, and attending all our plays with so much love and commitment, that our Drama Club was able to extend their winter run of West Side Story with a packed audience every night until their closure.”

The cheers this time were much more subdued, yet polite and sustained enough to not be embarrassing to the Drama Club members and their families in the audience. It was clear, however, where the town’s loyalties stood: Indiana’s love for basketball was known throughout the country, and Hawkins wasn’t the exception to the rule. Nancy looked at her graduating class and grabbed the last two flashcards in her pile.

“No one achieves success alone, and we are truly grateful for the help and guidance we’ve received during our years as Hawkins Tigers. However, if my classmates indulge me for a second, I’d like to ask each of you to think about a moment where you felt proud of yourself. Think about the things you’ve accomplished here, and the challenges you’ve overcome. A great woman by the name of Eleanor Roosevelt once wrote, you gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do. Our time as Hawkins High School students has come to an end. We did it, Class of ‘86. We did the thing we thought we couldn’t do, and we’ve learned that we can take the next thing that comes along, so keep moving forward. I’m proud of you, and I hope you are too. Thank you, and congratulations to us all.”

Dottie followed Nancy with her eyes as she shook Principal Higgins’ hand once more and left the stage towards her seat. Her hands were shaking lightly, and her lips were pursed, but she almost looked lighter, like she’d left significant weight behind that had nothing to do with public speaking related nerves. Nancy’s speech had been beautiful, there were no doubts about that, but it was strange to think about someone like her looking at her high school years as something that had been horrific to live through. She was popular enough to not have been bullied, pretty enough to have been desired and looked up to, smart and well-off enough to never have to worry about not fitting in.

High school was certainly hard for almost everyone, but the way Nancy had spoken about it left a familiar bitter taste in Dottie’s mouth. If Eddie had been right when retelling her the town’s recent strange happenings, Nancy had probably been thinking about her friend Barb when writing her speech. She would have most likely graduated alongside her, maybe she’d be headed to a nearby college where the two girls could still see each other often, or to a completely different one across the country and they’d have to call every weekend with updates on their new lives. Holland, Barbara should have been called up to the stage between Hall, Suzanne and Humphrey, Andrew, but now she was just another name added to the always-growing list of people who ought to have been there, but ultimately couldn’t be.

“Thank you for that inspiring speech, Miss Wheeler,” said Principal Higgins, returning to his place behind the lectern to close out the ceremony. “Graduating is an amazing achievement for these students, and we here at Hawkins High are excited to see the things they’ll accomplish in the future. By the authority vested in me by the Governor of the State of Indiana, Mr. Robert D. Orr, I confer the appropriate diplomas for the Class of 1986. Graduates, please move your tassels to the left,” he smiled at his now former students. “Congratulations Tigers, you can now throw your hats!”

As they had been instructed during rehearsals, they threw their hats directly above them, not wanting to lose them on the way down before they could take pictures with them but in the excitement and elation of the graduates, some caps ended up on the floor, prompting kids to search for the lost items under their chairs while their classmates cheered above them and congratulated one another. Dottie hugged Robin again while Principal Higgins said his goodbyes through the loudspeaker without anyone really hearing him, families eager to leave the auditorium and get into their cars quickly to avoid the inevitable bottleneck at the entrance of the parking lot.

“Thank you all for coming and being part of this special moment,” Higgins said, voice ringing above the loud chatter and scraping of chairs. “Please drive safe and have a good weekend!”

“Dad!” Dottie called upon seeing James talking to Gareth’s family near their cars. He waved at her in acknowledgment and she turned to her friend to say her goodbyes. “I’ll call you as soon as I have my new schedule down, okay? We can go to the movies some day!”

“I’m gonna go see family up North next week, but I’ll call you when I get back,” Chrissy said, arm still tangled with hers. “We have to go see the new Karate Kid coming out soon, Ralph Macchio is so cute.”

“I’m not even gonna correct you on that because I do wanna see it with you, but just know I think you’re crazy,” the brunette said, laughing at her friend.

“Well, excuse me, bad boys aren’t everyone’s type,” the blonde retorted, a secretive grin gracing her fairy-like features before she pulled her into a goodbye hug. “I’m gonna miss you!”

“We’ll see each other soon! You go have a great trip, forget about this boring town for a while.”

After the girls said their goodbyes and went in separate directions, Dottie watched Chrissy greet her family with curious eyes. She didn’t know much about the Cunninghams and was surprised to see that her newest and most unlikely friend had a little brother she had never mentioned before. He must have not been the right age to be in high school yet or he’d probably be under Jason’s overprotective wing, especially if he was athletic like his big sister.

Chrissy might have looked small and dainty, but there was a certain fierceness cheerleaders had in their step - their aura had been painstakingly trained to command a room and demand attention. And yet, Dottie noticed that as Chrissy turned from her unassuming Dad to her elegant Mother, the brightness she radiated seemed to dim ever so slightly, even if her charming smile stayed in place.

“There you are! I was looking for you everywhere,” James exclaimed, her thoughts instantly lost to the wind. “Congratulations, honey. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Dottie melted into his hug, knocking her cap even more askew with his shoulder. “They gave me honor cords, did you see? I didn’t know I had earned them!”

“I’m seeing them now! You worked so hard, good job.”

“Congratulations, sweetie!” Lydia, Gareth’s mom, said, pulling her into a hug. “Have you met Gretchen yet? Gare’s big sister?”

“Hey, congrats,” Gretchen said with a polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, hi! It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” Gretchen said, eyes sparkling with mischief as she saw Gareth approach with two more kids toddling behind him. “I’m always really curious to meet any girl who would even talk to my brother in the first place, but you seem normal enough.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Gareth said, and Erica snickered.

“Honestly, he’s lucky we’re nice to him,” the middle-grader joined in, making Gareth groan in annoyance.

“You’re my friend, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Congrats, Dot!” Dustin said, hugging the older girl from her right side, prompting Erica to cuddle up to her on the left. “We’re super proud of you.”

“Aw, Dus,” she pouted, leaning her head on his. He really was like the little brother she’d always wanted and never had. “Thank you, you’re so sweet. I’m happy you two could be here!”

“It was fun! We enjoyed it.”

“I saw you guys with that Steve guy earlier, did you come with him?”

“You know Steve?” Dustin said, curious.

“Yeah, he works at Family Video with Robin!” Dottie said.

“You know Robin?” it was Erica’s turn to ask.

“Uh, yeah, we’re classmates? She was sitting next to me throughout the ceremony- wait, how do you know them? What am I missing here?”

“Nothing! Steve’s, uh- Steve’s our babysitter!” Dustin hurried to say. “Did you know he used to date Nancy a while ago? That’s how we met, through Nancy. And we know Robin through Steve. Hawkins is a very small place.”

“W-what? Nancy and…”

“Yeah, she dumped him in front of everyone at a party and he’s been all mopey and sad since then,” Erica said, prompting Dustin to elbow her. “What? Just the facts!”

“Uh…,” Dottie looked at Gareth, dumbfounded.

“Anyway,” Dustin continued, aware that multiple eyes were on him. “He’s our babysitter.”

“Dustin, you’re fifteen,” Gareth laughed. “You’re a little old to still have a babysitter.”

“My Mom’s protective of me, okay? I’m an only child.”

“And he’s a good babysitter?” Dottie asked, amused.

“The best. Steve’s… yeah, Steve’s great. More like an older brother figure than a babysitter,” Dustin smiled, clearly fond of the older boy. “You should hang out with him, I think you’d like each other.”

“Stop. Just stop,” said Erica, knowing where Dustin was headed.

“What?” he shrugged, feigning innocence.

“Alright, let’s take some pictures!” said Lydia, not having paid any attention to the kids’ conversation.

While they were in the middle of taking photos, the remaining Hellfire Class of ‘86 joined the group with their respective families. Eddie snuck up behind Dottie while she was distracted taking a picture with Jeff and picked her up, arms encircling her middle and spinning her around while she giggled unabashedly, hands coming to rest on his forearms when he put her down but didn’t let go. Wayne had to hide a chuckle while he talked to the other parents; his nephew really wasn’t as smooth and mysterious as he thought he was, and Wayne had been around the sun too many times to not recognize what he was seeing between Eddie and his little lady friend. Gretchen, in turn, looked at Donny and lifted an eyebrow at him quizzically.

“What have I missed?” she quietly said, a smirk lifting the corner of her lips. She’d always liked Donny the best out of all his brother’s friends, and was aware that as much of a good confidant as he was, he never shied away from gossip.

“He said he wanted to wait until after graduation to ask her out so I don’t think anything has happened yet,” Donny muttered back, crossing his arms and leaning closer to her friend’s big sister. “They’re totally gone for each other, though.”

“You don’t say,” Gretchen said and turned to Erica who looked very interested in their conversation. “What do you think?”

“I think he’s too chicken to ask her out,” Erica laughed. “But they have been looking really cozy lately. That’s suspicious.”

“Eddie knows she’s into him,” Donny said, making Erica’s eyes widen. “Forgot to tell you about that.”

“You bastard, I thought we had a good thing going and you’re withholding information from me? Nuh-uh, this is betrayal. I want reparations.”

“Oh, she’s feisty,” Gretchen said.

“Come to the restaurant this weekend, I’ll give you ice cream and we can catch up and compare notes,” Donny offered, genuinely interested in keeping his friendship with the fiery younger girl intact. “But it has to be this weekend, Dot starts working with us on Monday.”

“How big is that ice cream?”

“Big as you want.”

“Deal,” she put out her hand for them to shake on it, but it was merely a formality - Donatello Vitale had no intentions of ever crossing the one and only Erica Sinclair again.

As families began saying their goodbyes and heading to their cars, it soon became clear that Eddie and Dottie did not want the festivities to end so fast. They’d already taken multiple photos with everyone and with each other, waved Dustin and Erica off as they climbed into Steve’s red BMW, and even said hello to the Wheelers, but they would just not leave each other’s side, always fluttering around one another no matter what was happening. If James thought anything strange about it, he didn’t mention it, but as Wayne looked at his nephew’s beaming smile, he realized he didn’t have the heart to cut his happiness short when there was such an easy solution to their problem.

“You two have any plans for lunch?” Wayne asked James, finishing up another smoke.

“Not really, no. I was thinking of picking up some burgers to celebrate. Why? You have any suggestions?”

“Well, me an’ Eddie like to go to the diner down on Randolph on special occasions. Thought you might want to join us,” he smiled at the kids who were now both staring at him expectantly.

“Can we go, Dad?” Dottie asked with hopeful eyes. “They have crinkle fries - you love crinkle fries!”

“That’s really kind of you, Wayne, but we don’t want to intrude,” James was saying, but Eddie hurried forward.

“You wouldn’t be intruding, sir. We both graduated today, we can celebrate together!”

“Come on, Dad, they wouldn’t ask if they didn’t want us there.”

Both older men looked at each other with knowing eyes and James sighed theatrically before conceding, his daughter cheering happily at the new impromptu plans. The teens quickly headed in the direction of their cars deep in their own happy little world; their parents amusedly looked as Eddie opened her door for her and helped her in while they talked about burger combinations and debated about their orders.

“Meet you there?” James asked Wayne, also getting into his car.

“You bet. Come on, boy, quit the yappin’. You’ll see her again in ten minutes, she’s not gonna run away from you!”

“Jesus Christ, Wayne!”

Eddie and Dottie had already been to the diner down on Randolph a few times; some of them before they’d begun dating and once after, but never with their parental figures as unofficial chaperones. The booth at the back they loved to sit at was occupied, so they chose a table near the front instead - the diner was bustling with energy as multiple families had had the same idea as them and got a headstart on their kids’ summer holidays. Eddie helped Dottie with her chair, thoroughly enjoying how shy she’d get whenever he did something remotely gentleman-like, and plonked himself next to her, quickly engaging in conversation about the menu she was holding. James had no option but to sit in front of his daughter as Wayne took the seat in front of Eddie, both of them also busying themselves with their own menus.

The teens tried to act normal in front of their elders, they really did, but it was such a lovely day, and they were celebrating one of the biggest achievements in their short lives that it was as if they’d forgotten that friends didn’t usually look so smitten with one another. Wayne took little peeks at them over the bright laminated piece of paper in his hands, catching how Eddie was stroking the side of her arm resting on the table with his pinky finger while she talked; he loudly coughed when James put his menu down and took his reading glasses off, the unexpected sound making them jump and separate instantly just in time for him not to see them. A young and friendly looking waitress approached their table, pad of paper and pen in her hand.

“Hi! Are you ready for me to take your order or are we waiting for the wives to arrive?” she said with a perfect customer-service smile. Dottie blinked up at her twice, her face morphing into a blank expression.

“No, thank you, it’s just gonna be us four today,” James said politely.

Today, he’d said. Like Margaret and Maureen were off doing other things, like working or shopping or attending a jazzercise class, and couldn’t join them for lunch but they’d probably be around later. Like they weren’t gone forever. Like they were still alive. Nancy’s speech rattled around in Dottie’s brain, her eyes glazing over and her ears filling with invisible cotton. James and Wayne ordered their food, and Eddie ordered for both himself and her, very much aware that something was bothering her. Her sight was stuck to her Dad’s hand resting on the cheap laminate tabletop. The gold band that had been there on his finger since Margaret and him had said I do all those years ago taunted her, glinting under the fluorescent lights of the diner. They’d promised each other forever, and what did they get? What did she get?

“Dot,” Eddie muttered, hand sneaking down the table to settle on the exposed skin of her knee. “Darling, can you hear me?”

“Huh?” she turned to look at him in a daze.

Behind him, there was a table where a family sat: a father, a mother and a daughter, barely older than she’d been when she’d lost the most important woman in her life. The baby gurgled in her Mom’s arms, and the woman cooed at her, noses nuzzling against each other’s. Dottie turned her head towards the other side of the diner where a mother was cleaning up a little boy’s face, chocolate staining his chubby cheeks.

She had just graduated from high school and her mother wasn’t there. She hadn’t been there when she got her first period, during her first heartbreak, or when she won a spelling bee at age seven. She wouldn’t be there when she graduated college, when she got her first job, when she got married to the boy who was holding onto her leg with worried eyes. She would never be there, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. It was always going to be just them.

“Honey, are you okay?” James asked, leaning forward.

“I-I’m sorry,” she managed to get out before she stood up and bolted outside and into the parking lot, her chair scraping against the floor in her haste to get out of the diner.

“I’ve got it, sir,” Eddie said before he sped after her, his chains rattling with every long step he took to catch up with her.

In silence, James and Wayne watched their kids through the huge windows next to their table. When Dottie saw Eddie running behind her, she turned her back on him, hugging herself as she tried to keep her emotions together. She lifted a hand to wave at him over her shoulder and said something - probably that she was okay, that she didn’t need help so he should go back in - but as he came closer, it was evident that the storm that had been brewing inside her all morning was on the brink of overtaking her. All it took was feeling his hand hovering on her shoulder for her knees to buckle as she folded onto herself, Eddie instantly rushing forward to catch her and pulling her into his chest, her back rising up and down violently as she sobbed into his graduation gown. He chewed on his lower lip as he held himself together, never one to cry in public where people could see him and judge him for it. He muttered something into her hair, his chin resting onto the crown of her head, gently rocking her side to side as her sobs subsided.

“She was really lonely until we came here, y’know,” James said, breaking the quiet that had fallen on their table. Wayne could only look at his nephew, the gentleness he’d always known he’d possessed perfectly on display. “All her new friends are great to her but Eddie… you’ve got a good boy there, Wayne.”

“They’re both good kids,” Wayne said, matter-of-factly. “It’s a damn shame they’re so young and been through so much already.”

“Yeah, it is.”

In the parking lot, unaware that they were being watched, Dottie lifted her head from Eddie’s chest, an embarrassed smile on her lips as she fanned her face with her hands in an attempt to dry her tears without ruining what was left of her mascara. Eddie, still holding onto her, blew on her cheeks; she laughed, heart feeling equally heavy and light at the same time. There was joy and levity to be found in shared grief, that was something new she had learned from him.

“Sometimes I feel like Eddie understands her better than I do,” James admitted, fingers toying with his wedding band.

“They understand each other in ways that you and I never will,” Wayne mused. “That ain’t a bad thing. Actually, I think it might be healthy.”

“Mhm,” James agreed, half lost in his own thoughts.

Dottie squeezed Eddie one last time like she was mentally preparing herself, gathering strength for whatever came next, and nodded once to let him know that it was okay to let her go. Eddie followed her inside quietly, holding the door open for her as they filed in and sat once again at their table. They both looked very tired, and perhaps even a little bit flustered at having to face their guardians after bolting out of the diner so unexpectedly. Dottie leaned forward to grab a napkin to blow her nose.

“M’sorry,” she said, eyes low. James grabbed her hand gently.

“You okay, honey?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. S’just a lot, you know?”

“I know,” her Dad said, watching her glance at Eddie next to her.

“Can I… is it okay if Eddie and I go to the lake after lunch?” she asked, shy. “We want to burn some cards.”

“Yeah, of course,” James said, knot tightening at the base of his throat and fingers tangling with his daughter’s.

Eddie was silent through the entire interaction, hands hellbent on shredding the paper napkin in front of him to minuscule pieces. Wayne could feel their table shake as he bounced his leg frantically, something he had long understood as his nephew’s tell when holding back tears. The waitress, unaware of what had just transpired, came back at that moment with their drinks and two milkshakes for the teens. Dottie smiled at them with wet eyes, and Eddie had the indecency to look sheepish: she hadn’t mentioned to him she wanted one, but he knew she loved strawberry milkshakes from this specific diner because they made them with real strawberry ice cream and not the powder. He must have ordered them when she blanked out. The simple gesture felt like balm for her anguished soul.

“Well, I’d like to propose a toast,” Wayne said, dissipating the remaining uncomfortable tension at their table. “To the Class of ‘86.”

“To the Class of ‘86,” James joined him, clicking their bottles of Coke together in the air.

Food arrived shortly after, and as an easy conversation sanded whatever edges were still sharp for the moment, Wayne observed the tender behavior of the kids sitting in front of him. It wasn’t as playful as it had been before, no, this felt much more… intimate. Considerate. Muted, yet still softhearted. Not missing a beat in the story she was telling to her Dad, Dottie grabbed the cherry on top of her milkshake and left it on top of Eddie’s. He gave her a toothy grin before popping it into his mouth, and she shook her head at him fondly. Yeah, this ain’t a bad thing at all, thought Wayne, taking a bite out of his food and laughing along with James at the ridiculous gossip Dottie and Eddie were sharing about their now former classmates.

“Okay, hold on a second before you run off,” Wayne said, as his nephew ushered his friend towards his van.

After lunch was done, it was decided that Wayne would drive Eddie and Dottie back to their trailer so they could get Eddie’s van and head to the lake for what they were calling The Card Ritual. The eldest Munson didn’t really understand what it meant, but it seemed that James knew what they were talking about so he didn’t ask too many questions about it - all he knew was that the kids were going to buy some cards at Melvald’s and then burn them, and that Dottie was emotional over the whole thing. If burning some paper brought peace to her heart, then who was Wayne to judge? He’d indulged in far more destructive coping mechanisms throughout his youth, evidenced by his unshakeable smoking habit.

After they’d said goodbye to James, they climbed into Wayne’s truck and headed to Forest Hills, graduation caps, gowns, and his suit jacket now discarded into the backseat. The heat kept rising in the early afternoon and Wayne just wanted to get out of his clothes, drink a glass of icy cold water, and take a nap in his undergarments next to his trusty fan, but he felt like there was a pressing conversation to be had before he went in and could finally relax on his day off.

“What’s up?” Eddie asked, Dottie coming to a stop next to him.

“I just gotta know, kid,” Wayne turned to her. “Does your Dad know about you two or do I have to play dumb with him?”

“W-what? What do you mean?” she asked, nervously.

“I may not be young, but I ain’t blind, sweetheart,” he smiled. “You’re not in trouble, I just wanna know how to act around your old man, that’s all.”

“He doesn’t know,” Eddie muttered, grabbing Dottie’s hand and surprising her with how quickly he confessed. “No one knows, we haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Except Chrissy,” Dottie said.

“Except Chrissy,” he conceded. “She knows because I asked her for advice, but she’s the only one.”

“How long?”

“Huh?”

“How long has this been going on?” Wayne asked, pulling his lighter out of his pocket.

“Uh, like two weeks? We’re not, like- we’re not official yet,” Eddie scratched his neck uncomfortably.

“Not offi- Edward,” his Uncle hardened his stare. “I taught you better than that.”

“Shit, I swear I was gonna do it today! Wanted to wait until after graduation, I’m not trying to be a flake-”

“It’s okay! We talked about it,” Dottie said, hanging onto his arm. “I don’t mind waiting, we just thought it’d be best to keep it a secret for now,” Wayne turned to look at her, wary. “Mr. Wayne, please, I’d announce it at the next Town Hall meeting if he’d let me.”

“We share all the same friends,” Eddie explained. “They’ll wanna know all the details, and I just- she breaks up with me and I’m the biggest loser in Hawkins, you know how those assholes are.”

“Oh my god, stop calling yourself a loser!” she whined.

“Don’t break up with me, and I won’t be!” he argued back, but it was clear he was being silly about it.

“Okay, so what’s the situation here? You two dating or not?” Wayne asked, getting back on topic.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, smiling down at her with hearts in his eyes. “We’re dating. I was gonna ask her to be my girlfriend officially later today but I might as well do it now since you’re so nosy.”

“It’s not like anything’s changing anyways,” Dottie said. “We just didn’t put a label on it, but I’ve kinda been his girlfriend since that party we went to a couple of weeks ago.”

“Hell yeah you are. And I’m your boyfriend, right?”

“No, you’re my private driver,” she deadpanned. “Of course you are, Eddie, what kind of question is that?”

“Just making sure, darling,” Eddie said, and Wayne snorted at how smug his nephew looked.

“Well, then… you two can go now, I guess. I’ll keep the secret.”

“Thanks, Mr. Wayne,” Dottie said, coming to hug him. “We’ll tell people soon, we just want a little bit of privacy for now. The guys can be so nosy sometimes.”

“Don’t I know that, kid,” he chuckled. “I’m real happy for you two.”

“I’m really happy too,” she whispered to him, a bashful smile on her face.

Eddie finally let her into his van, her white sundress and summery sandals a stark contrast against his ripped jeans and chains. They were an odd couple if one only looked at their clothes, but it was so clear that they vibrated at the same frequency that Wayne couldn’t help but think that he should have expected this development sooner. He didn’t know why he’d chosen to believe them when they’d said nothing had happened between them the night of the party. His nephew went towards the driver’s seat when he called to him again.

“Ed, a word,” he was dead serious as Eddie jogged to where he was standing.

“Yeah?”

“You treat that girl right, okay?” Wayne said, voice low so she wouldn’t hear from the van. “I don’t wanna hear shit from her Dad about you bein’ stupid with her.”

“I know.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not gonna fuck this up, Wayne. I love her,” Eddie told him, so sure of what he was saying that it knocked the wind out of his Uncle’s lungs for a bit.

“Love, huh?” Wayne laughed softly, and Eddie shrugged with red ears but looked so very happy. “Go, have fun. And take care of her.”

“I will,” he nodded.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Wayne said, ruffling his hair roughly like when he was just a boy barely taller than his own hip. “And your Momma would be too.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, eyes full of unshed tears. “I’m proud of me too.”

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The Observer Peter Capaldi

‘The government has been too terrible to make fun of’: Peter Capaldi on satire, politics and privilege

📷 ‘I’ve had to pretend to be more amenable’: Peter Capaldi wears blazer by oliverspencer.co.uk; shirt by toa.st. Photograph: Simon Emmett/The Observer

Tom Lamont Sun 14 Jan 2024 08.00 GMT

One winter morning, a Doctor Who comes calling. The Glaswegian actor Peter Capaldi lives about an hour’s walk from me and instead of us meeting in some midway café, the 65-year-old wanders over (leather booted, woolly jumpered, cloaked in a dark winter coat that sets off his pale-grey hair) to have coffee at my kitchen table. My son is off school with flu, medicating on Marvel movies and barely able to believe his luck as the actorly embodiment of an alien superhero wanders through our flat. While we’re waiting for the kettle to boil, I ask Capaldi whether he ran into any other Doctor Whos on his walk through the actorland that is suburban north London.

He grins an unguarded grin you don’t often see on screen. Capaldi became famous as the permanently angry spin doctor Malcolm Tucker in the BBC comedy The Thick of It, which ran from 2005 to 2012 and, after that, between 2013 and 2017, he played the sternest, least imp-ish Doctor Who in decades. In his new Apple TV show, a police procedural called Criminal Record, which Capaldi co-produced with his wife, Elaine Collins, he stars as an ageing detective: another scowler. Now, coffee in hand, he smiles affectionately. So, did he bump into any other Doctor Whos this morning? “David [Tennant, 10th Doctor] used to live in Crouch End, near me. Matt [Smith, 11th Doctor] lives around here. Jodie [Whittaker, 13th Doctor] is nearby, Christopher [Eccleston, 9th Doctor] too, I think.” But no, no encounters with his fellow alumni this morning, Capaldi says.

📷 ‘You can’t be the cynical melancholic I naturally am’: Peter Capaldi wears coat by Mr P (mrporter.com); jumper by uniqlo.com; trousers by reiss.com; and shoes by johnlobb.com. Photograph: Simon Emmett/The Observer

“You do run into each other. You have a laugh, a gossip, you share. There aren’t a lot of people who have been in that role in the centre of that storm. Most people think the job is being on the Tardis and running around with Daleks. Which it is. That’s the fun part. But there’s a lot of other stuff you have to do, too. You’re kind of the face of the brand and the brand is very big. You can’t be the cynical melancholic I naturally am. You have to pretend to be a version of yourself that’s far more amenable.”

Is it a bit like being the Queen?

“Kind of,” he says. “You embody for a time this folk hero, this icon. I was able to comfort people in a way that would be beyond the powers of Peter. You could walk into a room and people gasped with delight. It doesn’t happen any more.”

Capaldi grew up in 1960s and 1970s Glasgow. His Italian-Scottish family lived in a tenement block. “We had nothing. We had zilch.” From a young age he exhibited signs of artistic talent, though he characterises himself, then and now, as a seven- or eight-out-of-10 at various crafts. “When I was young, I was good at drawing. My grandmother used to say that came from Italy. She felt that I was an absolute throwback to Leonardo da Vinci – her direct line to Michelangelo! It confused me because I wanted to do these other things, play music, act – which one was I supposed to do?”

📷 Great Scot: Peter Capaldi wears blazer by ralphlauren.co.uk. Photograph: Simon Emmett/The Observer

After graduating school at 18, this confused cross-artistic trajectory continued. “I tried to be an actor, but I didn’t get into drama school, so I went to art school. When I was at art school, I joined a band.” In his early 20s, Capaldi released a single as part of a group called Dreamboys; then he quit music and spent most of his 20s acting, getting small jobs in theatre and TV as well as a walk-on part opposite John Malkovich in 1988’s Dangerous Liaisons. In his 30s, he decided to concentrate on directing.

In 1993, a short film he directed, Franz Kafka’s It’s a Wonderful Life, won him an Oscar, industry recognition that launched Capaldi off on a heady but doomed sojourn in America. Well caffeinated and gripping the edge of my kitchen table to tell the story, he recalls what happened when he was courted as a hot prospect by the Weinstein brothers, Bob and Harvey, then the co-presidents of Miramax and at the height of their power and influence. Capaldi spent a year working on a screenplay for them, at the end of which Bob flew him out to Manhattan to discuss casting and production. As far as Capaldi was concerned it was a formality; bottles of champagne were cooling at home.“I thought I was off and away.”

📷 Feel the heat: in The Thick of it. Photograph: Everett Collection/Alamy

Miramax sent a limo to pick him up from the airport. “I fell into conversation with the driver, lovely man, Ralph. When I got out of the car I gave him a big tip. Because I was a big shot now, you see. Then Ralph said: ‘I’ve been told to wait for you here.’” Uh oh. “Inside, all the people in the office were avoiding my eye. Bob said, ‘I’ll come straight to it, we’re not gonna do the movie, my brother Harvey says he doesn’t know how to sell it.’ He said, ‘But we love you! You’re one of the family! You’ll always have a place here!’ Needless to say, I never heard from him again. Obviously, while I was in the air they’d had a discussion and changed their minds. I was so dumbfounded as I climbed back into the limo I just laughed. I had no money, because we’d bought a little house in Crouch End, and I had no career, because I’d turned my back on acting.”

In a gesture that Capaldi has never forgotten, Ralph the limo driver tried to give him back his big tip.

As we chat, the postman rings the bell, delivering packages. Council tree surgeons are working on the road outside. My son needs water, words of comfort, possibly he just wants another good long look at Capaldi. I’ve never interviewed anyone in my own home before and the limitations of the format are becoming apparent. But Capaldi seems to respond well to the setting and its lack of frills. His adult daughter and her family have been visiting, brand new baby in tow. When I apologise for all the noise and interruptions, Capaldi says it’s nothing compared to a newborn.

📷 Fun fact: in Paddington 2. Photograph: Supplied by LMK

He and Collins were young parents themselves when his directing career fell apart. Arriving back in London from the disastrous Manhattan trip, “The initial feeling was shock. Then a pragmatic survival instinct kicked in.” Capaldi rejoined the auditioning circuit. “I was a psychiatrist in Midsomer Murders. I was a beekeeper in Poirot – AN Other Actor. Someone else would have turned down these parts first.” Collins, until that point an actor, too, decided to pivot into development and production, a career move that has worked well for her.

Artists often do their best work while they’re at their lowest, perhaps because they feel they haven’t much to lose, little to be afraid of. Sloping into a Soho audition room in the mid-2000s to meet Armando Iannucci about a new political comedy, Capaldi remembers being in a foul mood. He’d just come from an unsuccessful audition for another BBC show, “being taped like I was Vivien Leigh reading for Scarlett O’Hara”. He remained grumpy when Iannucci admitted there wasn’t yet a script for The Thick of It, they were going to try improvising instead. “I knew Armando was supposed to be a comedy genius, but at that moment I was, like, ‘Yeah? Let’s see some of your comedy genius then. Fucking show me what you’ve got, you Oxbridge twat.’ My whole attitude that day was essentially Malcolm Tucker’s, and it informed the improvisation we did.”

📷 Folk Hero: in his new series Criminal Record. Photograph: Ben Meadows/Apple

When The Thick of It debuted, Capaldi entered the sitcom pantheon overnight. Revisiting episode one, what’s glaring is how fully formed, how exquisite a character Tucker is. Alan Partridge, Samantha Jones, Frasier Crane, David Brent … these creations had to be discovered over time by their actors and writers. With Tucker it’s all there from word one, the controlled fury, the foul-mouthed eloquence, that constant convenient deployment of hypocrisy. Capaldi played the part for seven years, winning a Bafta mid-run. It led to other memorable gigs, as a news producer in 2012’s The Hour and as Count Richelieu in a 2014 adaptation of the Musketeers story. He was Mister Micawber in Iannucci’s 2019 reimagining of David Copperfield, a fun role that was bookended by two equally fun Paddington movies, released in 2014 and 2017.

Promoting these projects, Capaldi would be asked to give a view on political events of the day, as seen through the eyes of the character who made his career. What would Malcolm Tucker think of Brexit, or the pandemic response, or the premierships of Johnson or Truss? Capaldi long ago stopped answering these questions. “For one thing, I need about 10 writers, Tony Roach and Jesse Armstrong among them, to supply Malcolm’s bon mots. But more than that, I think these [recent Conservative] governments have been too terrible to make fun of. I think they’ve been incompetent and corrupt and I’m not going to make jokes to give them time off.”

📷 ‘You’re the face of the brand and the brand is very big’: playing Doctor Who. Photograph: Everett Collection Inc/Alamy

We talk about how weird it is that political satire should have fallen into abeyance in the 2020s – perhaps because, as Capaldi says, “things have been too bad to make fun of. Making fun normalises situations I don’t think should be normalised. The planet is burning. They’re pumping shit into the rivers. I’m not gonna be part of making jokes about that… All this highfalutin life I’ve had,” he says, of the awards parties, the film roles, the immortal runs as a sweary spin doctor and an inscrutable Doctor Who, “is because I went to art school. My parents couldn’t afford to send me. I went because the government of the day paid for me to go and I didn’t have to pay them back. There was a thrusting society then, a society that tried to improve itself. Yes, of course, it cost money. But so what? It allowed people from any kind of background to learn about Shakespeare, or Vermeer, or whatever they wanted to learn about. Why did we lose this, this belief in ourselves?”

For Capaldi, the world of acting feels narrower now, meaner in a way that seems to mirror British society at large. He thinks of his industry as one in which subtle discriminations hold sway and “gatekeepers and Aztecs still decree who shall be admitted… I think there’s a real problem. There isn’t the funding or support for young people from poorer backgrounds to get into the theatre. And indeed there aren’t the theatres.” He wonders about the teenage Anthony Hopkinses out there, talented, without the obvious means or encouragement to train in the arts. And the inverse, actors who Capaldi, in his frank and acid way, characterises as privileged duds.

📷 Shared vision: with his wife and co-producer Elaine. Photograph: Trinity Mirror/Mirrorpix/Alamy

“This business is full of people who are not the real thing,” he says, “people I perceived to be artists ’cos they had posh accents, but who didn’t have it, they just sounded like they did.” He goes on to tell a tantalising but intentionally vague story about a major star he worked with, someone who revealed themselves through the course of an acting collaboration to be a dud hiding in plain sight. He won’t provide details (“Too easy to figure out. When everyone’s dead I’ll tell you”), but he says the experience changed him professionally, leaving him more aware of his own limitations, but grateful to have a little vinegar and grit in the mix. “There’s a kind of smoothness, a kind of confidence that comes from a good [paid-for] school. That’s what you’re struck by: they seem to know how to move through the world recognising which battle to fight, where to press their attentions. But it can make the acting smooth, which to me is tedious. I like more neurosis. More fear. More trouble, you know?”

I think this part of his skillset expressed itself well during the three-season run on Doctor Who, when Capaldi was prepared to come across as remote, a little unreachable. “I don’t set out to make the audience like me,” he says. “Because my characters don’t know an audience is there.” For me, his high point as the Doctor was an episode called Heaven’s Gate, a chronology-stretching tale written by Steven Moffatt in which the Doctor is set a sisyphean task of endurance that lasts about 50 minutes or so in screen time and several millennia in narrative terms. Capaldi didn’t play it as a hero. He wasn’t charming or boyish. In this episode especially, he was grim and patient and knackered. It was a rare occasion when the character, apparently alive for hundreds of years, seemed old.

📷 Burning bright: with John Malkovich in Dangerous Liaisons. Photograph: Everett Collection/Alamy

In the new TV show, Criminal Record, he explores a more mortal kind of ageing, life’s third act, its inevitable professional humblings. Capaldi plays a London DCI in his 60s, coming to the end of a career, already moonlighting as a private security contractor, intimidated by the thrust and purpose of a younger colleague at the Met played by Cush Jumbo. As Jumbo’s character grows in confidence, Capaldi’s shrinks. It is a paradox of experience he can relate to. “I find the older I get, the closer I am to who I was,” he says.

I ask him to explain.

“Like I’m returning to… ‘roots’ is the wrong word. I feel more and more like my mother and father, more and more keenly aware of the values they had.” He provides an interesting example, how he has become all thumbs around the act of tipping in restaurants: “I can be in a complete sweat about that.” He can imagine his parents, both dead now, in a similar muddle. “From the background we come from, you can have a bit of anxiety about coming across as grand. So you have to allay that by making sure you are communicating with everybody, all the time.”

Capaldi shakes his head, chuckling softly. He has finished his coffee. He’s about to put on his big coat, say goodbye to my son, and walk back through Whoville to his home and his family. Before he leaves we return to the subject of actors from privileged backgrounds. He says he feels mean, like he took unfair advantage of them in their absence. “It’s not their fault,” he says. “It’s just that there’s less and less of my lot in the arts.” And this concerns him, he continues, because “people of all backgrounds are sophisticated, are interesting, are equally prone to tragedy and joy. Any art that articulates that is a comfort. Art is the ultimate expression of you are not alone, wherever you are, whatever situation you are in. Art is about reaching out. So I think it’s wrong to allow one strata of society to have the most access.”

He nods, feeling he’s expressed himself better. I agree.

Criminal Record is streaming now on Apple TV+, with new episodes every Wednesday

Fashion editor Helen Seamons; Grooming by Kenneth Soh at The Wall Group using Eighth Day; fashion assistant Sam Deaman; photography assistants Tom Frimley and Tilly Pearson; shot at Loft Studio.

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