Название | The Dance in the Dark |
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Автор произведения | Sophie Cleverly |
Жанр | Детская проза |
Серия | |
Издательство | Детская проза |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007589234 |
“What’s the matter?” I asked. She was looking at the stairway as if it were about to bite her, her walking stick clutched under one arm.
“Nothing, really,” she said. “Don’t worry. I just find the stairs a bit … difficult at the moment. I’ll be all right.”
Her brave face wasn’t fooling me. “I’ll go ahead,” I told her, “and Ivy will be right behind you. Just in case …”
She smiled gratefully. “Thank you, girls.”
I took the gaslit steps down into the basement, careful not to go too fast. It was still cold down there, as it had always been.
I reached the bottom and turned to watch our teacher take the last step. She grinned, though her face was pale and I could hear her breathing heavily. “Made it,” she said triumphantly. “Go on. Since you’re early, you can start your warm-up. I’ll be grateful for my piano stool today.”
Ivy and I went over to the barre and started our stretches. The rest of the class weren’t far behind.
Penny and Nadia walked in together, arm in arm. Penny looked annoyingly smug, and I fought the urge to make a cutting remark.
I was working through my pliés in each position, when I saw that Penny was smirking.
I looked down at my feet. Was I doing something wrong? No. I shook myself. It was a simple warm-up exercise, and one I had done a thousand times before, at that. I had to get Penny out of my head.
When we moved to centre work, I didn’t have to look at her, as we all faced forwards. That was fine, until we got to the Allegro portion of the class, where we did the faster steps.
Miss Finch was instructing us from the piano, since she didn’t feel up to demonstrating. I’d heard some of the other girls whispering, saying that she shouldn’t teach a ballet class if she couldn’t always dance. I thought she did a fine job, and I’d always tell them to shut up.
“We really need to work on our pirouettes, girls,” she called. “They need to be polished for Sleeping Beauty, especially for whoever wins the role of Aurora.”
We lined up in rows of three to practise, and, as luck would have it, I ended up with Ivy … and Penny. Ivy looked horrified, but I wasn’t going to let it bother me. Easy, I thought. I can do pirouettes in my sleep.
I kept my eyes fixed and held my body tight. I lifted my back foot, held my arms out and turned quickly, whipping my head around …
And I spun.
But I was off. Just a little. The realisation that I was going to stumble hit me the minutest moment before it happened. I fell forwards, my foot landing heavily on the wooden floor with a thunk.
My nightmare came flashing back. Tumbling from the stage into the darkness.
Penny laughed.
I stood up straight, fists clenched. I didn’t know who I was more furious with, myself or the freckled witch cackling next to me.
“Penny,” Miss Finch chastised, “we don’t laugh at others. Concentrate on yourself, please.”
“Oh, but Miss,” Penny giggled. “Scarlet’s definitely the best ballerina here. She told me so herself!”
And just to rub it in, Penny demonstrated a perfect pirouette right there and then.
Miss Finch still looked cross. “Ballet is about elegance and respect as much as it is about dancing. You’re showing neither.”
Penny bit her lip.
“Sorry, Miss,” said Penny. “I’ll stop it, I promise.”
Ha. I gave her my stealthiest death glare. I knew she was thinking exactly the same as me: trouble in front of teachers would mean no lead role.
Things went from bad to worse. The mistake had completely thrown me off, and I just couldn’t seem to get any of the steps. Ivy kept asking me if I was okay, and I wished she would shut up. I needed to be perfect, and I wasn’t even close.
My turnout wasn’t right. My toes weren’t pointing as much as I wanted them to. My spins were wonky.
And all the while, Penny was smirking silently.
By the time we were curtseying to Miss Finch in reverence, I felt like screaming. What was wrong with me? I knew these moves off by heart. Why wasn’t my body cooperating?
I must really be out of practice, I thought, feeling deeply, horribly embarrassed. The thought of getting it wrong on stage, of all those blank faces hissing at me …
That was when I had the idea.
“Ivy,” I said, as we sat and unlaced our shoes. “Can you go on without me? I want to talk to Miss Finch.”
Ivy looked a little baffled. “Why?”
“Oh well … I’m worried about her, and her leg, and all that.” Which was the truth, just not the whole truth. “I thought I’d stay behind and see if she needs any help.”
“I can help too,” my twin said.
Drat.
“Well, I just … I’d just like to do something for her myself. You know, I still haven’t made it up to her after the piano-smashing thing.”
Ivy twisted her mouth, and I wasn’t sure whether she was seeing through my excuses, or just thinking how stupid I’d been. In the first form, I’d taken a mallet to Miss Finch’s grand piano, then framed Penny for it. It hadn’t been my finest hour.
“All right,” said Ivy eventually, though she still looked unsure. “I’ll see you later.” I watched as she followed the rest of the girls out of the studio, and then wandered over to our teacher.
“Need any help, Miss?” I asked.
Miss Finch smiled at me. “I’ll be all right, Scarlet, but thank you.”
“Oh.” I shuffled my feet.
“Did you want something, perhaps?” There was a twinkle in her eye. Hmmph. She’d seen right through me. I leant back against her new piano and folded my arms.
“I …” I swallowed. The words didn’t want to come out. “I think I need extra help.” I felt my face heating up.
“You’re just a little out of practice, that’s all,” she replied brightly. “You’ll get it back again soon enough. It’s just an off day. We all have those.”
“But you could help me, couldn’t you, Miss? Maybe just … some extra tuition, in the evenings?”
Her brow knitted. “I’m not sure about that. Wouldn’t it be unfair to the other students? If this is about the recital … I’m one of the judges, you know. I can’t be seen to be favouring anyone.”
I racked my brains for a way to convince her. And then it hit me. “But … the reason I’m out of practice … is because of what happened, isn’t it? Miss Fox – your mother – she had me locked up. That’s got to be special circumstances. I’ve not had the same chance to learn as everyone else.”
Miss Finch’s face crumpled a little.
“Scarlet, I’m … I’m so sorry. I would have got you out sooner, if only I’d had any idea. You know that, don’t you?”
I nodded, and chewed the corner of my lip.
She sighed. “Come back on Monday evening, after dinner. We’ll see what I can do.”