Page 51 of Dancing Fools and All That Jazz
‘There’s even an iron and ironing board in the corner. Better get my stuff pressed.’ Bonnie switches on the iron.
I cannot move for a minute; I just stand there taking it all in.
‘What’re you thinking, Ingrida?’ Ruby, she ask me with a smile.
‘That we are here in actual professional theatre.’
‘Amazing, isn’t it? Look they’ve put bottles of water and a box of tissues at every place.’
‘Very nice.’ Asha takes the chair nearest the door, and we all claim a chair each – Monica quickly putting her bag on the chair between Bonnie and me.
‘This is extremely luxurious.’ Fay points to a television fixed high up on the wall. It is showing the full theatre stage where a handful of people are setting up. One person is climbing a tall stepladder to adjust lights.
‘What a wonderful touch to have a linked screen to the theatre. We will be able to see what is happening on stage throughout. It is a pity there is no sound but at least we can see all the other dances.’
‘Oh look,’ – Asha points – ‘there is a programme and timetable stuck to the mirror here.’
‘I feel like a proper film star.’ Cath sinks into her chair.
‘Do the lights have to be this bright?’ Bonnie asks, bending to look at herself.
Cath sings something about being blinded by light, and Bonnie says, ‘It is blinding. Look, I can see wrinkles.’She put her hands either side of her cheeks and pulls the skin taut. ‘I can’t iron these out.’
‘Wrinkles, never. Those are smile lines and they’re evidence you’ve had a happy life.’
‘Less of thehad, my dear Catherine,’ Bonnie retorted with a mock insult in her voice.
‘These lights, they are very bright,’ I say, thinking my skin, it look very pale in the mirror.
‘Well, Ingrida, we need to ensure we have adequate make-up for under the stage lighting…’
Fay, she sounds like a teacher, and I do not like to say I work in Latvian theatre and know this already.
‘It can completely wash out your complexion. That’s why we accentuate the eyes and mouth, so we are not blanked out. I used to do the stage make-up for the girls’ ballet shows…’
Fay pauses, shakes her head and smiles before saying, ‘Anyway, I have to agree. This is a lovely dressing room. You are right, Asha, far better than the last one at that Manchester venue.’
I remember this horrible room in Manchester, when we competed in the North West heats and when I make a bad mistake in the dance number. It did not look like a dressing room at all. It was very small and to me it look more like Neil’s attic room – which I only see briefly –cluttered and messy. I think to myself one day he will let me tidy up in there, but he say it is what he call his manhole, and I am not to go in. English men are funny.
We use the very nice ladies’ toilets close to our room and we all fresh ourselves up. The corridor is busy, and we hear people speaking many different languages.
‘Ooh, this is exciting.’ Bonnie claps her hands together. ‘There are Spanish dancers in the next dressing room. Their costumes are all neon colours.’
‘I heard someone speak in Russian tongue,’ I add.
‘You speak Russian too, Ingrida? Is there no end to your talents?’ Cath smiles as we return to our room.
‘Latvian, Russian and French, they are the languages I know best, but I am getting better at English.’
‘Respect, Ingrida.’ Ruby bows her head to me. ‘With all those languages, you should be a translator.’
‘Let us go and explore.’ Asha grabs her handbag.
‘Clarissa told me she would see us in the dressing room. Where’s she got to? Let me text her.’ Monica gets out her phone and it remind me; I must call Neil soon.
Asha looks at the schedule on the mirror. ‘Hey, the programme gives a brief description of our dances. Our Adele number is described as contemporary jazz. And “Dancin’ Fool” – which, by the way, is very close to the first number – as an “upbeat jazz fusion”. I like that.’
‘Jazz fusion. Sounds excellent.’ Bonnie puts a thumb up in the air. ‘How about our last dance?’
