Page 59 of Dancing Fools and All That Jazz
‘Sheila, do you think they’ll let us dance after what happened?’
‘They’d bloody better had, Bridget. We didn’t come all this way not to compete. Besides, we have to beat those stuck-up bitches in Clarissa’s la-di-da group.’
I glare at the door. Sheila knows full well we’re here. She was in Clarissa’s dance group at the same time as me for a couple of years before she left. She’s what my mother would call common. The sort of woman who loves confrontation and only has two volumes, loud and deafening.
I begin to say, ‘We can hear you, Sheila,’ but the toilets flushing drown me out and Asha puts a hand on myarm and pulls me out through the door. Instead of turning towards our dressing room she leads me in the opposite direction down the corridor.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Monica, I need to have a word.’ The corridor widens, and she pulls me into an alcove away from the bustle of competitors going to and fro.
‘We have to get to the finals.’
‘Yes, that’d be amazing…’ I begin to say.
‘But, Monica, I have noticed… that is we have all noticed the terrible tension between you and Ruby and… well there is no easy way to say this, so I will just come right out with it. It is spoiling the dynamics. I have to be honest when I say neither of you is dancing your best. You, in particular, have always been the best dancer in the group. We need you to be on top form. So, you and Ruby have to put aside your differences. For the sake of the competition.’
I glaze over and say nothing. Asha has no idea.
‘I mean, seriously, Monica, what can Ruby have done that is so bad you won’t even look at her?’
Ruby suddenly appears behind Asha and before I can start past them, Ruby holds one hand in the air to stop me and stands the other side of Asha. She addresses Asha while staring at me.
‘I’ll tell you what I’ve done, Asha. I made a silly, stupid mistake. I sent Monica a voice message in error. One meant for Max. I would never deliberately hurt Monica’s feelings, not for the world, but she heard my stupid jokes, and she’s taken what I’d said to Max to heart. She’s decided to turn her back on our six years of friendship without even a chance for me to apologise, and Idowant to apologise. Monica, I’m so, so sorry.’
Ruby looks at me hopefully, her hands spread out.
Asha eagerly turns to me, nods, and awaits my response.
For a minute I’m dumbfounded and before I can open my mouth, Asha adds – with a degree of irritation – ‘See. Ruby is sorry. Whatever misunderstanding has happened, you can now put it behind you. We all make mistakes.’
‘Mistake?’ I clench my fists barely realising I’m shouting straight into Asha’s surprised face.
‘Misunderstanding? Forgive Ruby? You have no idea. What Ruby has done is unforgivable. I wonder if you’d forgive her if you’d found out she’d slept with your fiancé? Quite deliberately and without a care in the world. Not even a modicum of guilt. How would that make you feel? Except Ruby hasn’t slept with your fiancé. She’s slept with Vince. She’s committed adultery with my husband and has no doubt been gloating over the fact I hadn’t the slightest idea…’
My words ring out down the corridors, and I’m vaguely aware of other dancers stopping to listen beyond Ruby’s gaping face.
Asha flounders, her mouth open and frozen.
‘So, no, Asha. I cannot forgive Ruby. She’s the worstkind of person. I cannot put anything behind me because she’s already stabbed me right there – in the back. And she can just… just go to hell.’
Pushing past them both, I head down the passages leading to the exit at the front of the theatre.
*
Out in the open air, a barrage of traffic noise from the busy French road hits me. I set off in any direction just to be clear of the building. Breathing deeply, I walk to slow my heart rate and replay snatches of my past friendship with Ruby.
How could she have carried on as if nothing had happened? How could she be so blatant? I really didn’t know her at all…
When I think about it, her entire life has been based on deceit. She even lied to her son about who his father was, pretending she used a sperm bank. When she told me this a few years ago, I told her she should tell Will the truth, but I’m not sure Ruby would recognise the truth if it came up and punched her in the face. Will is such a decent kid too.
*
After ten minutes of walking, my mind is easing. I leave the main roads and find myself in a beautiful part of Paris. I check the name:Place des Vosges. A wide, tree-filled park spreads out before me. It’s bordered by elegant talltownhouses. I take a deep breath of fresh air and wander around the boxed hedges and fountains before finding my way to the arcaded cafés that line the perimeter. Hanging baskets overflow with flowers as I pass boutique cafés and tiny bars where people are seated outside under the arches, drinking coffee or wine, and eating an assortment of French fare.
The smell of fresh bread fills the air and I pass aboulangeriedisplaying a wonderful assortment of savoury delicacies. My stomach rumbles and I realise I’m hungry, having barely touched the awful breakfast at the café near our hotel.
The shop front of a patisserie stops me in my tracks. Beautiful multicoloured cakes, mille-feuilles, éclairs and macaroons fill the window. The shop is rammed with customers ordering cakes by the box full. I catch fragments of their French, ‘Puis-je commander une douzaine de macarons…’, ‘Très bon…’, ‘Deux éclairs s’il vous plaît…’, ‘Délicieux, merci.’
