One Perfect Pirouette (13 page)

chapter 20

Only six classes to go before the NBS audition, but who was counting? Me. Nobody dared to complain or groan in front of Ms Ellergren, but grumbles in the changing room were growing. There was no dancing in the intensive classes at all, only going over and over the same stuff on positions and steps and jetés and everything we all knew backwards. But Ms Ellergren seemed obsessed with absolute perfection, and we all felt more and more like an army regiment in every class.

It didn't bother me as much as the others – I knew I still had a lot of work to do on my arms. Ms Ellergren reprimanded me about it at least three times each class, and I'd had nightmares about it, too. Besides, I had my practice in the youth hall with Ricky, where we danced and created our own choreography and had fun. Even doing weights with Mum was fun, too. But the strain was showing on the other girls, especially Stephanie and Danielle.

I'd put my shoes on and was ready to go into the studio to warm up when they turned up, their whiny voices announcing them before they pushed open the changing room door. ‘It's totally boring,' Stephanie said. ‘She can't tell me the NBS is like this. I've been to the public days – they do all kinds of dancing.'

‘My legs ache so much I can't get to sleep,' moaned Danielle.

Stephanie sniffed when she saw me. ‘I suppose Miss Perfect here loves the boredom. Too dumb to manage anything more.'

‘There's no dancing in the NBS audition,' I said. ‘It's like a class. We've got to show we know the groundwork.'

‘Oohh, groundwork. Where did you learn that big word?' Stephanie flipped her fingers at me.

I could hear Mum saying,
She's not worth wasting your time on,
so I scooted round to the door and left them sniggering behind me. In the studio, it took me a few minutes to calm down. My hands kept clenching, wanting to punch Stephanie in the face, and my legs felt jerky. I had to calm down, breathe. When class began, I'd settled down enough to concentrate, although I could still feel the anger seething away inside me and it actually energised me more. Several times, Ms Ellergren commended me on a jeté or an arabesque, and even my pirouettes earned me a smile.

But for every good mark she gave me, Stephanie's face darkened a bit more, and I dreaded facing her after class. As soon as we'd finished, I headed for the door, but Ms Ellergren called me back. ‘Go and change,' she said, ‘and then I want to talk to you.'

Stephanie had hung back to listen and now she glared at me and stalked away. In the changing room, she'd obviously said something nasty just before I walked in – I was greeted by silence, and Antoinette and Kate wouldn't look at me. I changed quickly, packed my bag and tucked it under the bench before returning to the studio. What did Ms Ellergren want? Was it me? Wasn't I doing well enough? Or wasn't Orrin cleaning the studio properly?

Ms Ellergren was reading some papers, which she put down on the piano before smiling at me. Two smiles in one day! ‘I have been given the schedule for the NBS auditions,' she said. ‘Your appointment is on the final day, Friday.'

‘I'll tell Mum,' I said.

‘You'll get a letter yourself, but you also need to give your mother these.' She handed me the papers. ‘This is information about scholarships and bursaries. After watching you for the past few weeks, I have a very strong feeling that you will be selected, my dear.'

‘Really?' I gulped and coughed. I was so astonished I could hardly speak.

She smiled again. ‘Yes, really. But it's not just about your dancing. Has anyone explained about the physical analysis?'

I nodded. ‘Mrs Calzotti said they examine your body and test things like your hip rotation and flexibility, and your Achilles tendons.'

‘Exactly. That is a huge part of it. If your body isn't made for the extremely high level of dance expertise required, there's no point in their accepting you.' She held out her hand. ‘Give me your foot.' I did as she asked and she told me to arch and flex it a few times while she held and stretched it more. ‘Good. Now –' She let me stand again and gazed at me thoughtfully.

‘Is there something wrong?'

Why was I here? Despite everything, was she about to tell me I was wasting my time?

‘A ballet dancer needs more than the right body and perfection in the basics. What I see in you, Brynna, is the artist with a soul, but it needs more nurturing. Do you practise outside class time?'

‘Yes, of course.'

‘Your technique is very good now – I can see you've been working hard. What I want you to concentrate on is the poetry and music in your dancing. Save technique for this class. Explore yourself through experimenting and dancing. Use
Swan Lake
or one of the other ballets, play the music and feel your way into responding to it.' She tilted her head. ‘That's all. See you on Saturday.'

I left the studio, a bit dazed, her words whirling through my head. The changing room was empty and I barely noticed that my bag was on top of the bench instead of under it. Mum was waiting outside for me. As we drove home, I chatted to her, but my brain was on another planet. It wasn't until I unpacked my bag in my bedroom that I realised something was wrong with my ballet shoes. The ribbons were missing, but it was more than that. I held them up in horror. Someone had cut big holes in them, holes that would be impossible to repair.

‘Mum!'

My scream held all my dismay and hurt and panic. She came running. ‘What? Are you hurt? Did you fall?'

With the tears rolling down my face, I showed her my shoes. ‘They're ruined!'

Her mouth simply gaped. She stared at the shoes as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. ‘Who on earth did that?'

‘Stephanie.' Who else would be so vindictive?

She grabbed them from me. ‘Right,' she said grimly. ‘What's this girl's surname? I need to have a few words with her mother.'

Mum angry wasn't something you wanted to experience, and one part of me loved the idea of her paying out on Stephanie and her mother, but another part said Stop. ‘There's no point. It'll only make her happy that she's upset me.'

‘I can't let this go, Brynna. I did it once before and it messed things up for years.'

‘What do you mean? What happened?' Here it was, the secret again, the extra thing she'd never told me. Was she going to tell me now?

She sat heavily on my bed, gripping my shoes as if they were stress balls. ‘The Olympic team. Why I never went to Seoul.'

‘You were injured,' I said. ‘Of course you'd be upset about it.'

She shook her head. ‘It was more than that. The accident on the court – it wasn't an accident. The other girl didn't trip and fall on my leg. She did it on purpose. She saw I'd landed awkwardly with my leg out and she pretended to trip.'

I stared at Mum and my heart stopped for a moment, then banged in my chest so loudly that it gave me a fright. I gasped. ‘Did they ban her? Did she get penalised?'

‘No,' she snorted. ‘She was all over me with apologies and they believed her.'

‘How could she live with it?' I said. ‘She stopped you from competing in the Olympics!'

‘She lived with it just fine. She went to the trials and made the team.'

Finally I understood what Mum was talking about – that some people would do anything to get what they wanted. A deep, dark chill ran through me. ‘Are you saying that Stephanie might do something like that to me? If we don't tell her mum?'

‘Yes. This has to stop now, before she does worse. I have no doubt her mother will deny it – she might even be spurring her on – but by speaking out, we let them know we'll fight back.'

‘Did you fight back?' I asked her, hoping she wouldn't be mad with me.

‘No.' Mum held up my ruined shoes. ‘I didn't want to look like I was sour-graping. But instead it ate away at me for years and destroyed my love of the game. If I'd said something then, made an official complaint – because I did have supporters who agreed with me – then at least I would've dealt with it, instead of shoving it aside.'

I looked at the ruined shoes. They were nothing compared to a broken leg. ‘But you did keep playing.'

‘Not really. The woman moved to Bendigo and I couldn't bear to be on the same court as her. I chickened out. Stupid me.'

I'd never heard Mum talk like this before, but now I began to understand all the things she'd said to me, what lay behind them. More than ever, I didn't want to let her down. ‘Okay, let's do it.'

Needless to say, Stephanie's mum was abusive on the phone, denied it all and said I was just jealous of Stephanie. But Mum had the last word. ‘I'll be keeping these shoes as evidence. If I see any more of this kind of behaviour directed at Brynna, I'll make damn sure your daughter is expelled from Ms Ellergren's school. You can bet on it!' And she slammed down the phone.

‘There,' she said to me. ‘Done.'

I hugged her again, and knew that somehow Mum had just blasted a demon of her own into outer space.

chapter 21

I was half-expecting Ricky not to turn up at the youth hall the following afternoon, but he was there and full of energy with his basketball tucked under his arm.

‘You want to dance or shoot hoops?' I said.

‘Dance! Basketball's tomorrow night.'

‘You mean your old team's back together?'

‘Not really,' he said. ‘This'll be a new team and the rumour is that we're getting a new coach. I didn't think anyone would want to coach a team from round here.'

I hesitated. Mum hadn't actually said she was applying for the job. Besides, if she did get the coaching gig, she mightn't want me saying who she was. It felt weird, seeing her become this person who was an expert in something other than being Mum, but I didn't want to mess it up for her. ‘So, are we dancing or not?'

‘Yeah.' He looked sheepish.

‘What's the matter?'

‘I brought some music.' He pulled a mess of cords and little boxes out of the front of his jacket. ‘See? iPod and speakers.'

‘Those tiny things will be loud enough?'

‘Sure. Wait and see.'

‘Okay. Let's warm up first.' What kind of music did he think we were going to dance to? Rap? Hip-hop? He'd have a good laugh at me when he discovered I had no idea how to dance to those things. I'd have to wait and see what it was.

Having to force my feet into my old shoes was horrible, but they were all I had. Luckily I hadn't grown any more, so it was the familiar pinching I was used to. I sighed and tied my ribbons, trying not to think about my damaged shoes. We went through all the barre and centre exercises, then he set up the little iPod unit and pressed
Play.
I nearly fell over when
Swan Lake
burst out of the speakers.

‘Where did you get that from?'

He grinned. ‘Off the internet.'

‘It's my favourite!'

‘Cool. So, what'll we do?' He stood there, waiting for me to lead the way. I'd watched the ballet on video lots of times and knew the story and what each dance was about – I'd even pretended to dance some of them myself, in front of the TV, when no one else was home.

‘I'll dance what I can,' I said, ‘and maybe you follow me. But a lot of the real ballet is on pointe, which I can't do.'

He nodded and waited, watching me position myself at the side of the room. I felt so stupid, trying to be a ballerina in
Swan Lake,
of all things! But Ricky was totally serious about giving it a go, and I remembered what Ms Ellergren had said. It didn't matter if the steps were the same as I'd seen – all I had to do was let the music take me. After a few minutes, I watched him and realised that's what he was doing. He'd given up copying, and was just dancing whatever he felt like. There wasn't much ballet in it, but his rhythm and grace left me gobsmacked. If I could capture some of that, Ms Ellergren would be smiling, for sure.

Ricky stopped at the end of the room. ‘Aren't we supposed to dance together?' he said, puffing. ‘You know, you do those turn things and I hold your arm and stuff?'

‘A lot of it is the male and female together, only there are two different girls in it. It takes a long time to learn to dance together like that.' I sat down to rest, too, for a few moments. ‘You usually have a choreographer, who shows you what the steps are and how to put it all together.'

‘Why are there two different girls?'

‘Do you know the story?' He shook his head. ‘Odette is the main ballerina. In the story, she's got a curse on her, so in the daytime she's a swan and at night she turns back into a woman again. This prince comes along and falls in love with her, but he can't break the curse until he declares his love and the sorcerer stops him. Then the sorcerer makes up a fake Odette called Odille, and sends her along to trick the prince.'

‘Whoa, I can see this is not going to end happily.'

‘You're right – it doesn't. The prince announces his marriage to the wrong one, Odille, and then because the curse can't be broken, the prince and Odette both drown themselves in the lake.' I laughed at his expression. ‘Don't be too sad. It's a beautiful ballet, my favourite.'

‘The music is all orchestra – doesn't anyone ever sing?'

‘No. There are some really good bits, though.' Just then, the music changed to the next part and I leapt up. ‘This is the “Dance of the Little Swans”. It's really famous.'

‘Because?'

‘Watch.' I got into position and started dancing along to the familiar music. I kept my feet moving and my hands crossed as if I were dancing in a quartet. ‘This is four cygnets dancing together, with their hands joined, but there's only one of me.' After a couple of minutes, my feet couldn't keep up and I stopped.

‘That is a seriously weird dance,' said Ricky.

I folded my arms. ‘You really should come to dance class with me, you know.'

‘Nah, don't be silly. I'm just having a bit of fun, that's all.' He pointed at his watch. ‘Time's up. I've got to go and shoot some hoops, get my eye in for tomorrow night.'

‘You're really excited about the team, aren't you?'

‘Yeah, but don't tell anyone.' He pulled at his ear. ‘And I'll still come and help you with the tables, don't worry.'

‘What about the dancing?' I tried to keep my face blank, like I didn't care either way, but I could feel my mouth drooping.

‘That, too. This
bell-ay
stuff is helping me get fit to play.'

He waved his arms around, to pretend he was kidding, but I knew he was at least a little bit hooked on dancing! Maybe one day I could convince him to take a class or two.

When I arrived home after practice at the youth hall, Mum was on the phone, pacing up and down the hallway, waving her free arm around. ‘Yes, not a problem. We'll see. Could be two or three, could be swamped. Okay, thanks. Thanks a million. Bye.'

She pressed the
Off
button and shouted, ‘Woohoooo!' Then she grabbed my shoulder and laughed. ‘I'm doing it, Brynnie. Coaching the team. How good's that?' She sobered up. ‘Of course, I need a team to coach. I mightn't get enough turning up. But I'm sure we could advertise.'

‘Well, you'll have one very keen player, that's for sure,' I said. ‘Ricky's busting to play. He'll be the whole team if you want.'

‘This is your friend who's at the youth hall?'

‘Yep. He's a great player.'

‘Really?' Mum peered at me. ‘Or are you just saying that because he's your friend?'

‘No way. You'll see.'

‘Excellent. One down; eight or nine to go.' She strode into the kitchen, left the phone on the table and checked the pots on the stove, then paced into the lounge and back again. ‘I'll need to keep up my exercises, maybe see the physio about some harder ones. I want to make sure my leg's a hundred per cent.'

I hated to break into her excitement, but it was important. ‘Mum, can I – can we –' I swallowed hard. ‘Mum, I need new ballet shoes. I'm sorry it'll cost more money, but with the extra classes, and the audition getting close –'

She stopped pacing immediately. ‘It's all right; it wasn't your fault. I've already squeezed the budget and your dad got some overtime tonight.' She kissed the top of my head. ‘You can go tomorrow on your own, can't you? To buy them?'

Now I was happy enough to dance a jig, maybe even try some of Ricky's rap. No, on second thoughts, I'd prefer the cygnets' dance! ‘Absolutely,' I said.

The rest of the school holidays went in a whirl of practice with Ricky, classes, running with Mum and Orrin, and watching Mum become as mad about basketball as I was about ballet.

I tried hard not to think about the NBS audition too much, because whenever I did, my heart sped up and my hands got sweaty and I'd find I was gritting my teeth. One practice session at a time, I kept telling myself. Make this one count, make it your best ever. But then I'd lie in bed at night and the steps and positions would flick through my mind like a crazy movie until I wanted to bang my head against the wall.

Every night at the dinner table, Mum either babbled on and on about ‘her team' or sat staring into space. She said she was running through plays in her head. Dad and Orrin and I learnt to ignore her, but we'd all promised to go to the first game, the day after my audition. All she said to me about Ricky was, ‘Talented, but undisciplined.' I wasn't sure whether she meant he had real potential or not.

Ricky still came to the youth hall and helped me with the tables, but then he started saying, ‘I have to train, sorry. Need to work on my ball skills, or Coach will put me on the bench.' And he'd climb back out of the window and race off to the basketball court. Once I nearly said to him, ‘You know, your coach is my mum.' But somehow the words never made it out of my mouth. Mum would treat him exactly like the other players, because she didn't believe in favourites and Ricky didn't really need to know.

But I missed dancing with him. On the days when he left me to practise alone, it seemed so much harder to stick to my routine, let alone feel inspired and flowing when I danced. With one week to go before the big day, my legs and arms were heavy logs, my posture stiff, and even
Swan Lake
couldn't lift my spirits.

The audition was going to be a huge disaster, I just knew it. I decided I had to tell Mum that I'd pull out and not waste everyone's time, but she was buzzing around, drawing plays on an old whiteboard in the lounge, humming to herself. I didn't want to bother her. And no one else would have understood. I sure couldn't talk to Ms Ellergren about it – she'd think I was a total failure!

At each class, Stephanie and Danielle acted like I had the plague and smirked whenever Ms Ellergren reprimanded me. Even David, Antoinette and Kate hardly talked to me, although I thought that was because they were feeling like me – overwhelmed and depressed. I was the only one who had a Friday audition; everyone else's was on Thursday, and nobody mentioned them, as if it might cause a jinx.

It was a relief when school started again. Lucy had been away during the holidays and missed Saturday classes and when she saw me, she said, ‘Hey, why the long face? Did you miss me?'

I nearly burst into tears and bit the inside of my mouth so hard I could taste blood. I bent down quickly and pretended to be looking for something in my bag until I felt able to talk without my voice wobbling. ‘Where did you go for your holiday?' I asked.

‘The Gold Coast. The theme parks were awesome,' she said, bouncing up and down. ‘You should see my photos of the tigers and me and Mum on the roller-coaster. I screamed so much, I nearly died.'

I forced a big smile. ‘Sounds fantastic. I can't imagine my mum on a roller-coaster.'

‘Mum said she wanted to cheer me up.' She shrugged. ‘To be honest, I'd rather have been in class with you.'

‘Not with Stephanie and Danielle, though,' I said. ‘They've been hideous.'

‘Hassling you? Or worse?'

I told her about my shoes. ‘What?' Her mouth dropped open. ‘Did you tell Ms Ellergren?'

‘No, Mum yelled at Stephanie's mother and Stephanie hasn't done anything else. Except give me the usual nasty comments and looks.'

Jade loomed up behind Lucy. ‘Hey, girlfriend, where's your tan?'

‘Girlfriend'? What TV show was she watching now? Within a couple of minutes, Jade was trying to drag Lucy away, leaving me on my own, but for once Lucy resisted. We walked into class together and I began to feel a bit more cheerful. I mightn't be able to explain to Lucy about how depressed I was about the audition, but at least I could tell her about Stephanie and have a laugh.

For the first time, when I got to the youth hall at four, Ricky wasn't at the window. I waited for more than ten minutes and then I had to ask one of the boys watching TV to help me with the tables. Why now? I fumed, tying my ribbons and pulling my sweatshirt off with jerky hands. Why would he let me down this week? I went through the barre and centre exercises like a robot, and then realised that with Ricky not there, I had no music. Give up, a little voice nagged me. Give up, what's the use?

‘No, I won't give up,' I said aloud. ‘I won't be a quitter, even if everyone else is!'

I went to the side of the room and stood for a few moments, eyes closed, breathing, trying to quell the churning and twisting inside of me. I visualised rough waves at the beach, a sunny day, the waves calming down, smoothing out, while I breathed and tried to relax the tensed-up muscles in my shoulders and neck. I could do it. I could be a swan, gliding across the water.

When my body finally felt almost normal again, instead of made of fractured rocks, I opened my eyes. Pirouettes. There was a silver cord, lifting me up, a shining line from head to toe. Away I went – one, two, three, four, five. And again. Five more and back again. Not one wobble, one falter, one misstep. Quiet happiness bloomed inside me and I smiled the whole time I was changing shoes and getting help with the tables – I even smiled the whole way home, knowing I'd sleep that night with perfect pirouettes in my dreams.