Silhouette (22 page)

‘
Just
the corps for the
Nation Ballet Company
,’ drawls Izzy at the mirror.

Paige places her cool hands on my shoulders. ‘Have you thought about my idea?’

I pull away, glancing at Izzy. ‘Don’t start, Paige. It’s completely crazy.’

‘What’s going on?’ Izzy looks up, still holding her eyeliner pencil. From behind the armchair, Grant pauses, one leg in the air.

Paige seems to grow taller. ‘I have a plan … a way to get Scarlett on stage tonight. We just have to sneak her on.’

They’re all quiet, three faces staring at me. They’re really considering this. I turn it into a joke. ‘Imagine the scene if I place even my
pinkie toe
on stage.’

‘They wouldn’t have the guts to pull you off in the middle of a number,’ says Izzy slowly. ‘They’d wait until the end …’

Paige steps closer. ‘At least dance the opening … and then I’ll take over.’ She looks down, biting her lip. ‘Or the finale? You can take that!’

‘Yeah, right.’ I know why she’s doing this, but still …

More footsteps bring noise and laughter with Anka and the others. Talk of which company directors are in the foyer, discussion about an agent and whether he’s dodgy as they gather around the mirrors at the other side of the room.

In among the voices, our group is quiet. Thoughtful.

‘What about Paige’s old solo?’ asks Grant.

‘But it was cut …’

‘ … at the last minute,’ say Paige and Izzy over each other.

‘So, we’ll bring it back.’ Grant nods at me. ‘And Scarlett can dance. Just one solo.’

Three faces turn my way and I’m not sure what to think. I imagine dancing in Paige’s place. It’s always been one of my favourite moments in the show. A lone dancer, unaware that she’s being watched.

‘Do you
want
to dance tonight?’ asks Izzy.

My lips part. ‘Of course, but … how can I? I don’t have a costume. I’d need help in the sound booth.’

‘We’ll help,’ says Izzy. ‘And Anton is in the booth – he’ll look after the music.’

She makes it sound so easy. Still, I’m not sure. ‘But why? I mean … you guys are all dancing. Think of what you have to lose … Why would you help me?’

‘Because you’re one of us,’ says Grant simply.

‘How many years have we been dancing together …
dreaming
about this?’ says Izzy. ‘It’s the biggest night of our school lives.’

‘Yeah.’ I get it. More than I’m letting on. But it’s not as simple as that. ‘What if it backfires?’ I ask.

‘We’ll take the risk,’ nods Paige.

I turn from one to the other, finding nods and hopeful smiles. It’s almost too much. I’m not sure how to stand. It’s the strangest feeling, as if I’ve been searching for something … a sense of family. A place to belong. And here they are, around me. They’ve been with me all along.

TWENTY

In hushed voices, we form a plan. We decide that I should dance the solo I’ve been working on. Paige is already using hers for the lead, so a straight swap makes sense. We don’t want to risk sneaking a costume, so Izzy scouts around and comes back with a backless leo, black tights, a hint of a skirt and foot paws for smooth turning on stage. It’s the simplest outfit of all time.

There’s no time to rehearse, just enough time to call Mum.

When I tell her what’s going on, there’s silence on the other end of the phone.

‘I’m only telling you in case you want to come,’ I say. For once, she really could stop me.

But Mum’s voice comes clear and warm. ‘Thank you for letting me know.’

Anka catches me as I slip through the backstage door in full make-up. She laughs at my gasp of panic. ‘Don’t worry. We all know what’s going on.’

‘You’re not going to tell?’

‘Why would I?’ she says. ‘You think you’re so much better than the rest of us, Scarlett. But anyone can look good in a music video. If you want to go out there tonight, only half-rehearsed and looking like some kind of bald freak in front of the director of the National Ballet Company, be my guest.’

I turn away so she doesn’t see she’s hit a raw nerve. I’m less prepared for this performance than ever. There’ll be no hair stylist tonight. No production crew. Just my dancing.

Soon I’m in costume and smuggled behind a tea chest in the back corner of the wings, the place that was voted as the safest for me to hide.

Keeping warm is my only problem, but adrenaline helps, and most of the time it’s only our class back here. At one point Miss Penelope appears to check one of the sets, but Tadpole steps calmly in front of my hiding place while others keep her busy.

Soon the noise drops in the auditorium and I catch a familiar voice above the rest. It’s Jack, though I can’t make out what he’s saying. Not long after, calm voices drift through from the main part of the theatre, the dull clunk each time a seat is pushed open to sit. A cough every now and then.

Bodies move like ghosts in front of me, hidden in the shadows of the wings. Their energy is so strong that I feel it against my skin. A couple of them drift close and whisper
break a leg
. Izzy does a gawky thumbs up and funny face.

Then the atmosphere shifts as the curtains open. Music starts up. The shadows that were with me disappear into the light.

In my head, I chart out the program. Five more numbers … four. The closer we come, the harder it is to stay still.

That’s it. I can’t stand it anymore. I slip out from behind my tea chest, my heart pounding. I stretch as much as I dare, with an eye on the backstage door.

No-one comes, and soon I’m watching the number just before mine, circling my ankles and shaking nerves from my hands.

Through the twirling white tutus I see Paige move off and into the wings on the opposite side from me, stripping for the fastest costume changes of all time. In another universe, that would have been me …

But I don’t want to think about that now.

It’s nearly time. I take a breath, adrenaline rising, and reconnect with steps that yesterday I thought I’d never perform. After so many years of sweat and bleeding blisters, it’s down to a single solo.

In the quiet of the blackout I step onstage, my back to the audience but keenly aware of their presence.

The lights come up and I lift my leg, knee first, before unfolding it in a high
developpé
that finishes with my leg behind my shoulder.

There’s a murmur from the audience.

I swivel on my toes and for the first time face the front. I’m bald, slim and dressed in black. All they would see is the outline of my body lit from behind, none of my features, just a silhouette. This is all that I am.

The opening bars play out and for an awful second, I hesitate. Go blank. It’s been so long since I last rehearsed this piece. A lifetime ago. Before I was suspended. Before my whole world crumbled. So much has been stripped away that I’m not sure what’s left.

To one side I can see Paige, standing in character. Watching. Just slightly her head dips, urging me on.

I take a single breath. In the tense hush of a full house, I step forwards. The music is all around me, breathing life into my body. The steps come to me naturally and I find myself mixing and blending them with the ones from last night when I was improvising in the studio alone.
This
is what happened, and
this
is how it felt.

I reach the chorus and I fall smoothly into the next sequence, allowing the shadows and sharp edges to reach up and out through my limbs. I’m light, on the balls of my feet, cool air on my scalp. There’s no question of missing any of these steps; they are mine like no others.

As I dance, I’m aware of eyes tracking my moves, minds concentrating on the shapes of my body. I pull the audience closer with each moment, feeling calmness around me, a kind of stillness reaching through the space.

Too soon, we come to the final beats. I’ve given it everything and I’m out the other side.

Then all is quiet. For a moment I don’t move.

Slowly, I pull out of the hold. A sprinkling of clapping begins, growing in volume and urgency. I take a single curtsey, and pad offstage as the applause peaks, continuing for four seconds, five …

Piano notes for the next piece begin as Grant pulls me into a hug. Someone pats me on the bum – Izzy, of course – before she disappears back onstage.

And here I am again, anonymous, in the shadows, still buzzing from the spotlight.

For a while I watch the others, transported, not wanting it to be over. They move through the number from
Cats
, then the
pas de deux
with Tadpole and Paige. The audience falls even more quiet tonight. We’re into the finale when a new shape appears beside me, taking up more space than the others.

Jack.

In the dimness of the wings, he taps me on the shoulder, motioning for me to follow.

He leads me down the stairs and into the warm-up area. The music from the performance becomes faint and tinny above us.

We stop walking and Jack faces me, shoulders broad and square. I breathe in. ‘I know what you’re going to say, and I’m sorry, but this is just something I had to do.’

‘It’s okay, Scarlett. Your mum warned me.’ There’s a smile in his voice.

‘You knew?’

Jack’s eyes meet mine as he nods. ‘We had a long talk. She told me a lot of things, actually.’

‘So I’m not in trouble?’

‘Well, I don’t know about that. Oscar’s in the audience.’

I shrug. ‘It’s not like he can do much more to wreck everything.’

Jack’s eyes flicker up to my bald head, then back to my face. ‘I wish you’d come to me about all this. I might have been able to help.’

The tone in his voice makes my cheeks flush. I would’ve spoken to him if I’d known what to say.

‘No matter how bad it seems, you can always find help, Scarlett. If not me, then someone else. I promise you, it’s never as bad as you think.’

I meet his gaze and nod. I hear more applause from above. In some ways it is that bad. More questions than ever hang over my chance at a career. But tonight, I danced for myself. No matter what happens, I’ll always have that. ‘Did you see me up there?’

‘Yeah it was … something.’

‘Good?’

Jack’s eyes crinkle as he nods. ‘Worth the trouble.’

I’m smiling when the door clunks and footsteps patter down the stairs. Beaming faces in black and red burst into the space. Jack is surrounded by bodies and energy.

‘Did you see the last number?’

‘It went off!’

‘It’s over … omigosh, I can’t believe it’s over!’

Drink bottles are tipped and gulped. There’s a smell of sweat and foundation in the air.

Izzy bounces in front of me. ‘We should have pulled you up for the curtain call! I didn’t think of it until now.’

‘Nah, it’s okay,’ I smile. ‘I got just what I wanted.’

She wraps an arm around my neck. ‘You were amazing up there. I can’t believe we got away with it.’

When she pulls back I find Paige standing to the side of us. No words, just her cool steady gaze.

‘Get ready and then come up to the foyer, yeah?’ asks Izzy before slipping away.

Paige steps forwards – tall, elegant, somehow older. ‘Your solo,’ she says quietly. ‘It was … beautiful. I didn’t know you’d been working on new steps.’

‘Thanks, Paige.’ For a moment I wonder what she must be feeling about next year. Relief? Or the weight of expectation?

‘Come up to the foyer with me?’ she asks. ‘I can introduce you to people from the NBC. We can explain what happened.’

For some reason it makes my heart sink. ‘No … thanks but, I don’t think –’

‘No, I mean it.’ Cool hands press on my shoulders. ‘I’ve been thinking about this. I’ll be competing with other dancers for the rest of my life.’ Her narrow face leans close to mine, her voice lowered. ‘I’d rather it was you than anyone else.’

For a moment I don’t answer. It’s hard to explain. ‘It’s just … I don’t think the NBC is the right place for me anymore.’

‘Then what are you going to do?’ Paige asks.

‘I don’t know,’ I say, smoothing a hand over my head.

‘But … do you think
we’ll
be okay?’

This time, I’m ready to answer. ‘Paige, we’ll be fine.’ I pull her into a hug.

‘Everyone changed and up, ASAP!’ calls Jack. ‘You never know who you might meet out there!’

With the others around me, I peel off my leotard and tights, and wipe away the bulk of the make-up. I’m not even meant to be here, so I don’t plan to go up to the foyer. But Paige jerks her head asking me if I’ll come up, and I think of Mum. Maybe Natasha is here. I don’t have much to wear, just jeans and a shirt. What you see is what you get, at least.

Together with Paige and Izzy I tip-tap up to the foyer. High heels all round, except for me. Perfume and deodorant f loat about us.

It’s buzzing up here, so many voices talking at once. Evening gowns and suits are here in among more casual clothes. Waiters in white shirts move between the groups, holding out tall bubbling glasses. I easily pick out the dancers. There’s a relaxed poise in the way they stand that could only come from years of working with their bodies.

Beside me, Paige squeaks before disappearing into her dad’s arms.

‘There you are!’ Izzy’s mum sidles close. Two teenage sons trail after her, both wearing suits and frowns. ‘Congratulations, honey,’ she says to Izzy.

I can just make out Mum at the far side of the room, laughing with Natasha.

‘Scarlett! I almost didn’t recognise you!’ Izzy’s mum pats my head. ‘So soft!’ Her hand slides to my cheek. ‘Where have you been these past months? We haven’t seen you for so long.’

‘Ma … we’ve been busy!’ moans Izzy.

‘Well, you have to come round as soon as exams are over. I’ll make
my lasagne
…’ Her tone is exactly the same as when we were twelve.

It makes me smile. ‘That would be great.’

I motion to Izzy, letting her know I’m going to find Mum, then chart a roundabout path between the groups. A couple of people turn my way as I pass, but I keep my focus away from curious eyes. It’s easy to pick Mr Winchester from behind, so I give him a wide berth. Not that he’d make a scene in here; these are the people who intimidate him most.